Kate
It was cheap white wine. And it was sweet as hell. Then I woke up wrapped in Max’s scent. It was perfect and lonely as hell because he wasn’t there. My wrist ached and my head throbbed. I remembered glimpses of the night before. Me painting, pizza, wine, and Max. Then the rest dulled to life as I forced myself out of Max’s bed.
“Kate, you don’t need your insurance. Max took care of it.”
I blink once, then twice.
“Excuse me?”
“The young gentleman who came in with you paid your bill last night.”
“Okay.” I step back into the waiting room, staying for the on-call doctor to see if see my arm is ready to cast.
The room spins a bit as I absorb the news the receptionist just told me. I don’t even remember Max pulling out his wallet. I woke up in his bed, and he was gone. The wine really hit me hard. Honestly, I’m not sure it was entirely the wine that made my knees go lax and my entire body go limp. I have no doubt it was Max’s woodsy scent and body pressed up against my back.
And I’m not about to admit how my heart fluttered in disappointment to find the bed empty and yellow note on the lone pillow. He left a quick message in his blocky, masculine print, letting me know he left his truck keys for me since he had to go out of town to get a load of siding, that he’d have Cody take him to his truck later this afternoon, and to leave the keys in the toolbox. He also said he left a plate of breakfast for me in the microwave.
I was expecting Toaster Strudels or something. I couldn’t have been more off base; I opened the door and came eye to eye with a plate of bacon, hash browns, and eggs.
I have no idea how long I sit in the hospital waiting room before my name is called. Then while the doctor wraps my arm in plaster, I berate myself internally for not asking more questions about Finn and what Max is planning to do. It’s very straightforward, but then again, not a subject I’m willing to let go easily.
“Kate, you’re set to go.” Doctor Ash pats my shoulder.
His sex appeal and charm do nothing for me. Any other time in my life, I’d be all over this opportunity, especially living in a small town and being single. There’s not a very big pond and even fewer fish. It’s Max who controls my thoughts, from his mysterious parts to his good looks.
Doctor Ash begins to speak. “This goes against all kinds of ethics, but if you ever want to grab dinner, I’m available.”
He’s right. It’s not the right place. Dinner with a hot guy who is a doctor is a no-brainer. I muster up some shred of wanting, but nothing ever comes.
I push my glasses up on the bridge of my nose and slide off the table. “Thank you, but I don’t really have time to date.”
I cringe. Visibly cringe from my own string of stupid words. He said nothing about dating, but leave it up to me to make this awkward. I need coffee and a hot shower to wash away this fog that lingers over me.
He nods and steps back, raising an eyebrow. “Well, if you ever find the time, Kate Wilson-Valentukonis, you know where to find me.”
Damn, the way my name sounds being perfectly pronounced, rolling off his tongue, is damn hot even though I’m not interested. The pain in my wrist is still a dull ache. The clunky cast is already a pain in the ass on my drive home. I take a longing glance at Cody’s bar as I drive past it. I didn’t admit to Max that I live only a few blocks from him in an old farmhouse. The rent is cheap because the owner passed away, and the children didn’t want to sell a piece of their heritage. They were looking for someone to live in it and take care of it.
It’s truly not a hardship. The two-story house, which is way too much for me, is bordered by a pristine white picket fence. It’s simple elegance.
“Of course, I’d have to break my right wrist.” I blow my bangs out of my face struggling to get in the door.
I growl in frustration as it dawns on me that taking a relaxing shower isn’t going to be so damn easy. It’s moments like these I want my momma. Being the only child, I was always doted on and taken care of. My loving parents are now traveling the world and loving their lifestyle. They deserve it after having me so late in life.
After studying the shower for several minutes, I give up on the idea for now. I open the bottle of pain pills I refused to take last night and pop one in. Soon the world grows hazy and I’m sinking onto my couch, pulling my favorite quilt on top of me. It’s Max’s scent, strong jawline, and piercing eyes that fill my senses before sleep takes over.
***
This is the dumbest idea ever. I’m about to turn around when I get a glimpse of Max’s backside. He’s shirtless, heaving large, long boxes off a flatbed trailer. I stand frozen with the plate of cookies in my hands. My jaw slackens at the sight of layers of muscle rippling with each of his movements.
It’s not hot outside by any means, but I find myself heating up from head to toe underneath my leggings and baggy sweater. Sweat droplets drip down his back, but it’s when he turns to face me that I too begin to sweat.
A dazzling smile lights up his face as he strides toward me. “Nice gear.”
He nods to the lime green cast on my right hand. I shrug and extend the plate toward him, thanking God I brought them with me because it would have taken all of my will not to leap into his hard, chiseled chest.
“Here. A thank you.”
Max takes the plate of cookies wrapped in Saran Wrap. “What’s this for?” He quirks an eyebrow.
“A thank you for taking care of me last night, making me breakfast, and paying my bill.” I reach down into my pocket, tug out the bundle of money, and extend it his way.
“The hell? You push drugs too or something?” He lifts the wrap, not waiting to taste the cookies.
I snort in laughter. Not lady-like at all. “No, broke into my piggy bank.”
“I’m not taking it.” He shoves a cookie in his mouth, taking a large bite. Crumbs linger on his mouth. I bite down on my bottom lip, stifling the moan building up inside of me. What has this man done to me?
“Why not? Pretty darn sure that wasn’t a little bill and it was no fault of yours.” I take a step back as Max finishes his second cookie.
“Kate, just gonna say it one time. And as screwed up as it may sound, it’s how I feel. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever be able to pay you back.” He holds up a hand. “And before your smart mouth goes off about not needing to be paid back, listen to me. The thought of me living the rest of my life not knowing I had a son out there guts me. Not to mention the thoughts of the abuse he’s suffered at the hands of a disgusting human being more obsessed with drugs and getting her next fix.”
“But…” I try.
“You are hard-headed as hell with a stubborn streak to match, Kate. I’m not hearing any of it, and thanks for the home-baked cookies. I’m a sucker for sweets.” He nods to the porch. “Want a drink? I need a break.”
“Sure,” I squeak out, clasping my fingers together as we walk to the small porch framing the house. The fresh boards lining the floor and the railing let me know the porch must have been the first thing Max worked on.
“This is nice. I didn’t notice it last night.” I run my hand along the railing.
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” He points to one of the rocking chairs and then disappears into the house.
Rattling of glasses fills the air as I continue to run my hand down the railing and finally take a seat in a rocking chair. The screen door swings open, revealing Max holding two copper mugs while chowing down on another cookie.
“You like Moscow Mules?” He sets them both down on the table between us.
I shrug. It seems it’s the only thing I know how to do. “Never had one.”
“Then you’ll love them. It’s my specialty.” He winks.
“This porch is amazing,” I admit, picking up my mug.
“My dad said a porch makes the house, so it was the first thing I worked on.”
I bring the copper mug to my lips, taking a tiny sip. “Mmmm. That’s tasty and refreshing. Thanks.”
He rests his head back on the rocker, his neck fully exposed as he takes a drink. “You ever been afraid of something so bad that you keep it around yourself so it doesn’t haunt you?”
His deep question throws me for a loop. Silence floats between us before I internalize his question.
“Not sure what you’re talking about, Max.” I twist in my chair, tucking a leg underneath me in order to face him.
“My birth mom was an alcoholic. She drank herself to death and managed to beat the hell out of me on the way.” He pauses briefly, rubbing small scars on his chest. “The first day I saw Finn and talked to you, I went to the liquor store and bought a bottle. Planned to drink the whole son of a bitch then buy another, but it was my dad who stopped me. He grabbed the bottle and poured me a drink. We shared a few, and I knew then I was stronger than the demon I could so easily fall into.”
“I’m sorry, Max.”
He goes on, telling me everything about his past and his mother and how Jessie, his football coach, saved him and took him in. My heart aches with each word that flows from Max’s lips.
“And now I’m about to get custody of my own son, saving him from the same life I lived, and how the hell do I know I’m going to be any better than what he’s coming from?”
Without thinking, I reach over and grab his hand. “I get it now. You hold that pain close and let it go slowly. Max, I barely know you but can already tell you’re going to be one hell of a dad. So many men would’ve driven out of town and never looked back.”
He nods. “I get to meet him on Wednesday. It’s going to be supervised. My lawyer is pushing for full custody. The shitty thing is the system protects Ally’s rights as long as she’s showing progress. At the moment, she’s not, but I don’t trust her not to. I can only hope she gives up all rights to him.”
A bubble of happiness and nerves blooms inside of me. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s finally time for someone to stand up for Finn. I remain speechless for several moments not knowing what in the hell to say.
“I’m so proud of you, Max.”
“I have lots of work to do before Wednesday to get this place in shape. The visit is going to be here.”
I hop up from the rocker, my head spinning a bit from the sudden movement. “Let’s get going then.”
Max stands up, grabbing the last cookie from the plate.
“You are like a garbage disposal,” I say, taking a step closer to him.
A crooked smile lights up his face. “The Sprinkles Bakery chocolate chip cookies are my favorite. My true weakness.”
“You jerk.” I slap his chest. “How come…”
He grabs my hand, tugging me toward him. “I thought I’d let you indulge in a little white lie.”
“And he has jokes on top of his good looks and heart.” I shake my head.
Max drops his hands to my hips, tugging me to him until we are chest to chest. I splay my palms out on his chest. My fingertips sear to life with the contact.
“You think I’m cute. Is that what you’re saying?” He tilts his head, bringing a hand up to my cheek.”
“You know you are, Max,” I whisper.
He runs the pad of his thumb over my cheek. “You’re not half bad yourself.”
A shrieking voice pulls us out of our trance. We were seconds from brushing our lips together.
“Max!” I turn to see a teenage girl running our way. She halts in her tracks as soon as she puts together the scene.
And then it’s like an army of people follow her, all decked out in work clothes. Some carry coolers while others pack supplies.
“Whit.” Max jerks his chin and takes a step back, but before he does, he whispers in my ear, causing flutters to ignite low in my belly. “It’s my family. They are tough as hell when it comes to me but mean well. Hang tight. You’re about to get the full meal deal with us.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
And just like that, Max’s family, along with Cody, invade our moment of peace. Paint brushes fly, hammers swing, and we all work in unison.
“Max hates painting. I find it so soothing.” His mom peers over her shoulder with a gentle smile.
“I agree. I love painting. Guess that’s why I always wanted to teach kindergarten.”
The humor in my words fall flat. I don’t miss the side eye glares that Whit, Max’s little sister, keeps sending my way. She snorts but doesn’t say a word as she continues to run the roller on the wall.
“Whit, why don’t you go see if your dad needs help?” Jules suggests.
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes and stomps off.
“You’re a smart girl for picking a grade to teach when they’re cute and lovable compared to the hell days of puberty and teenagers.”
I drop my roller in the pan and sit down on a bucket. His dad was stand-offish while his other siblings flocked to Max. Jules has been friendly but tentative, and all of a sudden I feel like an enemy on traitor lines.
“I met Max because of Finn. That’s it.”
“Oh honey,” Jules pats my shoulder, “it’s nothing personal. We are all protective of Max. He’s been through hell, and it’s our job to protect him. I’ll admit, we may go overboard sometimes.”
“I’m not a bad person.” The words are out of my mouth before I can take them back.
Jules kneels down before me. “Then prove it to us. Max is pretty damn quiet and keeps to himself since serving his country. If I was a betting person, I’d put all my chips on the fact he likes you a lot.”
And with that she goes right back to painting and humming to herself.