The Gamble
Page 130
I tilted my head back to look at him and tried to yank my h*ps from his hands but failed at this when his arms locked around me. One hand sifted up into my hair and cupped the back of my head.
“Take your hands off me, Max,” I hissed quietly.
“Shut it, Duchess,” Max whispered back and then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss was hard, long and closed-mouthed, communicating something I didn’t get. I pressed against his hold and his shoulders while he kissed me but didn’t succeed in getting away or yanking my mouth from his.
He lifted his head and I stopped struggling in order to glare at him. His eyes moved over my face. Then his arm at my waist drifted down to become a hand on my behind then it slid up, taking the thermal with it.
Before I could protest what his hand was doing, he whispered, “You were right, honey.”
With my history with men, most specifically Niles who never listened to me, I found I was unable to process his words.
“Sorry?”
His fingers slid out of my hair and his hand went down, also under the shirt, and both of his hands were now travelling soothingly along my back.
“You were right, I was wrong.”
My mouth dropped open.
Did he just say that? Did Macho Mountain Man Max straight out admit he was wrong?
I felt the anger flood out of me as the hope pushed back in and my body relaxed in his arms.
“Sorry?” I whispered.
He bent his head and his lips touched my forehead where he muttered, “We’ll talk about it later.”
He kissed me sweet then suddenly the thermal was pulled up, my arms going up with it and it was over my head.
I stood in nothing but my undies watching Max walk away pulling the thermal I just had on over his head. Then he disappeared. And I continued to stand there, staring at where I last saw him.
He’d just admitted he was wrong. He’d pulled me in his arms, gave me a hard kiss as his Max-style apology and admitted he was wrong. And he’d done it last night too, admitted he was wrong, told me straight out he’d “fucked up”.
I continued to stare at where I last saw him, letting this penetrate and thinking that the most macho mountain man thing he’d ever done was have the guts to look me in the eye and admit he was wrong.
That was when I stood there, staring at where I last saw him but I did it smiling.
Then the murmuring of voices invaded and my mind flew to the fact that Max’s Mom was downstairs having heard us fighting and so, for some insane reason, were the dreaded Kami and Shauna.
I snatched one of Max’s shirts off the hanger without even looking at it, shrugged it on and grabbed my cords. Then I flew into the bedroom, pulled underwear from the drawer and, seeing the checked flannel of Max’s that I was wearing (it was checked in gold, brown and navy, perfect to go with my cords) I grabbed a cream camisole and hit the bathroom.
After I’d done my routine, dressed (including Max’s flannel, which was huge but also warm, old and soft from a million washings) and pulled my hair up in a ponytail at the back of my crown. With no other choice but to go makeup free, I rushed out of the bathroom and across the loft.
I slowed my progress on the stairs, deep breathing to calm myself and repeating in my head, don’t have a go at either Kami or Shauna in front of Max’s Mom.
I was in possession of my faculties and hopefully in control of my mouth when I hit the bottom and turned toward the kitchen.
Linda was in it, bustling around in what appeared to be Mom Mode. Both Kami and Shauna were on stools. They all looked at me when I approached. I couldn’t see Max until I got closer for he was standing in the recess, h*ps against the sink.
“Coffee’s poured, Duchess,” Max told me when I hit the mouth of the U of kitchen and I saw his head dip to a mug that was steaming on the counter beside him.
“Thanks,” I muttered, walked to the coffee and picked it up, feeling all eyes on me and that feeling, needless to say, was uncomfortable.
“I remember that shirt,” Shauna announced and my eyes went to her over the rim of my mug then I nearly choked on my sip when she went on, “it was a favorite of mine too.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Linda’s head jerk and right in front of me I saw both Shauna and Kami smile delightedly.
“It’s good with your coloring,” I heard Linda say, luckily before I could utter a word or any of the twenty-five of them in my head and I looked at her.
“Sorry?” I asked, noting vaguely she had a bowl out and flour, milk, eggs, maple syrup and measuring cups.
“Your coloring. That shirt. Looks good on you,” she told me and my mind focused, moving from Shauna’s catty comment to the look on Linda’s face.
She was making a point, a quiet one, but it was a point nonetheless.
Moments before I had the irrational desire to shrug off Max’s shirt, take it outside and burn it. At the present moment I remembered it was Max’s, it was old, warm and soft and it was mine to claim when I wanted, not Shauna’s, never again Shauna’s.
And that was the point Linda was making, not only to me, but to Shauna.
“Thanks,” I whispered, my meaning deeper than the whispered word.
“Hope you don’t mind, I’m making pancakes. Is that okay with you?” Linda asked and I blinked.
Why was she asking me?
“Um… yes?” I answered.
She nodded and turned back to the bowl.
“Mom makes great pancakes, babe,” Max told me, his finger going into my back belt loop and tugging me closer. “You’ll love ‘em.”
I looked up at him and said, “Okay.”
He grinned at me then he winked. It was the wink that got me. Max had never winked at me. I didn’t think he was the kind of man to wink. But, like all things Wonder Max, he did it great.
Using my belt loop, he positioned my still-coping-with-his-wink body close to his side by the sink.
“Max, I like that sugar bowl and creamer, saw it in town, almost picked them up for myself,” Linda noted.
“Nina bought ‘em,” Max told her over his mug then he took a sip.
“Good taste,” Linda mumbled, looked at me and said firmly, “Domestication.”
“Sorry?” I asked.
“Cupboards full. Creamer and sugar bowl. You’re domesticating Max.” That twinkle hit her eye again, I caught it again but she extinguished it before she finished, “This’ll be entertaining.”
Oh my God. She liked me!
I couldn’t help it, I smiled to myself and relaxed into Max’s side. When I did, his arm slid along my shoulders, his hand dangling casually over the left one.
“Take your hands off me, Max,” I hissed quietly.
“Shut it, Duchess,” Max whispered back and then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss was hard, long and closed-mouthed, communicating something I didn’t get. I pressed against his hold and his shoulders while he kissed me but didn’t succeed in getting away or yanking my mouth from his.
He lifted his head and I stopped struggling in order to glare at him. His eyes moved over my face. Then his arm at my waist drifted down to become a hand on my behind then it slid up, taking the thermal with it.
Before I could protest what his hand was doing, he whispered, “You were right, honey.”
With my history with men, most specifically Niles who never listened to me, I found I was unable to process his words.
“Sorry?”
His fingers slid out of my hair and his hand went down, also under the shirt, and both of his hands were now travelling soothingly along my back.
“You were right, I was wrong.”
My mouth dropped open.
Did he just say that? Did Macho Mountain Man Max straight out admit he was wrong?
I felt the anger flood out of me as the hope pushed back in and my body relaxed in his arms.
“Sorry?” I whispered.
He bent his head and his lips touched my forehead where he muttered, “We’ll talk about it later.”
He kissed me sweet then suddenly the thermal was pulled up, my arms going up with it and it was over my head.
I stood in nothing but my undies watching Max walk away pulling the thermal I just had on over his head. Then he disappeared. And I continued to stand there, staring at where I last saw him.
He’d just admitted he was wrong. He’d pulled me in his arms, gave me a hard kiss as his Max-style apology and admitted he was wrong. And he’d done it last night too, admitted he was wrong, told me straight out he’d “fucked up”.
I continued to stare at where I last saw him, letting this penetrate and thinking that the most macho mountain man thing he’d ever done was have the guts to look me in the eye and admit he was wrong.
That was when I stood there, staring at where I last saw him but I did it smiling.
Then the murmuring of voices invaded and my mind flew to the fact that Max’s Mom was downstairs having heard us fighting and so, for some insane reason, were the dreaded Kami and Shauna.
I snatched one of Max’s shirts off the hanger without even looking at it, shrugged it on and grabbed my cords. Then I flew into the bedroom, pulled underwear from the drawer and, seeing the checked flannel of Max’s that I was wearing (it was checked in gold, brown and navy, perfect to go with my cords) I grabbed a cream camisole and hit the bathroom.
After I’d done my routine, dressed (including Max’s flannel, which was huge but also warm, old and soft from a million washings) and pulled my hair up in a ponytail at the back of my crown. With no other choice but to go makeup free, I rushed out of the bathroom and across the loft.
I slowed my progress on the stairs, deep breathing to calm myself and repeating in my head, don’t have a go at either Kami or Shauna in front of Max’s Mom.
I was in possession of my faculties and hopefully in control of my mouth when I hit the bottom and turned toward the kitchen.
Linda was in it, bustling around in what appeared to be Mom Mode. Both Kami and Shauna were on stools. They all looked at me when I approached. I couldn’t see Max until I got closer for he was standing in the recess, h*ps against the sink.
“Coffee’s poured, Duchess,” Max told me when I hit the mouth of the U of kitchen and I saw his head dip to a mug that was steaming on the counter beside him.
“Thanks,” I muttered, walked to the coffee and picked it up, feeling all eyes on me and that feeling, needless to say, was uncomfortable.
“I remember that shirt,” Shauna announced and my eyes went to her over the rim of my mug then I nearly choked on my sip when she went on, “it was a favorite of mine too.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Linda’s head jerk and right in front of me I saw both Shauna and Kami smile delightedly.
“It’s good with your coloring,” I heard Linda say, luckily before I could utter a word or any of the twenty-five of them in my head and I looked at her.
“Sorry?” I asked, noting vaguely she had a bowl out and flour, milk, eggs, maple syrup and measuring cups.
“Your coloring. That shirt. Looks good on you,” she told me and my mind focused, moving from Shauna’s catty comment to the look on Linda’s face.
She was making a point, a quiet one, but it was a point nonetheless.
Moments before I had the irrational desire to shrug off Max’s shirt, take it outside and burn it. At the present moment I remembered it was Max’s, it was old, warm and soft and it was mine to claim when I wanted, not Shauna’s, never again Shauna’s.
And that was the point Linda was making, not only to me, but to Shauna.
“Thanks,” I whispered, my meaning deeper than the whispered word.
“Hope you don’t mind, I’m making pancakes. Is that okay with you?” Linda asked and I blinked.
Why was she asking me?
“Um… yes?” I answered.
She nodded and turned back to the bowl.
“Mom makes great pancakes, babe,” Max told me, his finger going into my back belt loop and tugging me closer. “You’ll love ‘em.”
I looked up at him and said, “Okay.”
He grinned at me then he winked. It was the wink that got me. Max had never winked at me. I didn’t think he was the kind of man to wink. But, like all things Wonder Max, he did it great.
Using my belt loop, he positioned my still-coping-with-his-wink body close to his side by the sink.
“Max, I like that sugar bowl and creamer, saw it in town, almost picked them up for myself,” Linda noted.
“Nina bought ‘em,” Max told her over his mug then he took a sip.
“Good taste,” Linda mumbled, looked at me and said firmly, “Domestication.”
“Sorry?” I asked.
“Cupboards full. Creamer and sugar bowl. You’re domesticating Max.” That twinkle hit her eye again, I caught it again but she extinguished it before she finished, “This’ll be entertaining.”
Oh my God. She liked me!
I couldn’t help it, I smiled to myself and relaxed into Max’s side. When I did, his arm slid along my shoulders, his hand dangling casually over the left one.
