Josie’s speech was beautiful.

She had bared her soul.

But he understood why she kept it to herself. Though she might not admit it out loud, her speech spoke of her father’s neglect. And Max knew she already felt a lot of guilt for yelling at him after her mother had died. It was a side of her he had never seen before. She had exploded. But he was sure she was unleashing fourteen years of rage as she told her father she hated him and to get out. She had accused him of never loving her mother and to go back to Germany to his real family. To Max’s surprise, Jeff had handled it well when he told Josie that he loved her and didn’t believe she meant her words. Then he had left and given Josie space.

That had been almost eight days ago.

Max removed the hand that covered hers on her mother’s casket and took the paper from her. She was shaking. He felt it and saw it. “Josephine,” he whispered.

She blinked her tears free and then lifted her chin, so those beautiful sad eyes were on him. “I can’t say all that, Max.”

“I know. That’s why I should say it on your behalf.”

Her eyes widened. “Max, I said some stuff about my dad that I don’t want people to know. He doesn’t even know about my real feelings at that time. I just wrote it so I had an outlet for my grief.”

“I just want to say the last parts if that’s okay? They need to know those wonderful things about your mother.”

She lowered her chin as she mulled it over. Finally, just as the man in charge of the service walked into the church, she said, “I’d like it if you spoke on my behalf.”

Max nodded.

“Ah, excuse me, Miss Faulkner?” Mr Shames interrupted.

Max stepped back just as Josie spun around. Mr Shames made his way down the aisle to them, and a tight smile spread across his lips once he reached them.

“Yes, Mr Shames?”

“We’re ready when you are.”

Josie nodded. “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” Mr Shames said as he pushed his jet-black hair behind his ears and adjusted his black tie. He wore a suit with his white business shirt. Max wondered if he wore the same suit to every funeral service. “I’ll step outside and start letting everyone in. Miss Weller already has those you wanted most lining up. I’ll let you both take your seat.”

“Thank you,” Josie said and then made her way back to the pew. Max took her in. She wore a tight but modest long-sleeve dress with black stockings. She had been wearing a jacket that he had helped her put on earlier this morning, but it was too hot in the church to keep it on.

Max joined her and sat down on the wooden bench. He folded Josie’s speech and slid it into the pocket of his black dress pants. Unlike Mr Shames, Max wore a black button-down long-sleeve shirt and a slim black satin tie. On his chest was the pink rose enamel pin that Stella had given him and Josie to wear in the memory of Emily.

Josie’s fingers met the back of his hand. They grazed until she let out a slow exhale, and Max turned his hand so she could thread her fingers with his.

With her hand encased in his, he knew she would be okay.

That someday, they would be okay, too.

The service was beautiful.

They had pictures and videos of Emily with her friends, her parents, her ex-husband—everyone but Josie. But he knew that was for the end. The final slideshow that would play “La Vie en Rose” as pictures of Emily and her daughter were projected onto the screen. Josie had tears stream down her face as her best friend, Stella, spoke about how Emily was like a second mother to her. Spoke of how much she missed her and commended Emily on her brave fight against cancer. When Stella ended her speech, she climbed off the podium, went to the casket, and pressed her palm against the wood. Then she returned to her seat next to Josie. After Stella, Emily’s employee, Viviane, spoke about what a wonderful boss and friend Emily was. That she could never be half the person Josie’s mother was. A few other people spoke about their favourite memories before Jeff was called up to the podium.

Josie tightened her grip on Max’s hand as Jeff got up from his seat next to Max and made his way to the podium. Max held his breath as he waited for the ambassador to say his speech. Jeff hadn’t confirmed whether he would speak at Emily’s funeral until last night. Josie had been worried he might say something she didn’t want to hear, but Max assured her that her father wouldn’t do anything like that. One, the ambassador loved his ex-wife. And two, he was an ambassador—he had an image to uphold.

Jeff cleared his throat, and his eyes scanned the church once before landing on his daughter. His face visibly saddened. “Hello, everyone. My name’s Jeff Faulkner. Some of you may know me as an Australian Ambassador. But for nine years of my life, I was Emily’s husband. I wasn’t perfect. And Emily, she was perfection. When I first met Emily, we were in school. I fell in love so quickly it was crazy. I had to beg her to date me. I had to beg her to stop being my friend and let me treat her the way she always deserved to be treated. The first time I told Emily I loved her, she told me shut up because I wasn’t being fair. I was stunned. She told me that I wasn’t being fair because she wanted to be the one to say it first since I had asked her out.

“I had many years with Emily. Many years when she was my friend, my girlfriend, my fiancée, my beautiful wife, and then the mother of my daughter, Josephine. Our marriage was beautiful until I became obsessed with having the perfect life. Which meant taking the perfect job. I had always wanted to work in foreign affairs, and when I was offered the job as the Australian Ambassador to Germany, I took it without even consulting her. What was worse was she wanted me to achieve my dreams even though it meant leaving behind a family. So I did a terrible thing and threw away the love of my family for my career. I was a terrible husband but an even worse father. Because every time I let our daughter down, I let Emily down.

“Emily was a patient woman who I broke more times than I can count. I still love her. We have memories no one could ever replace. We have a beautiful daughter together—who looks just like her. I might have been a terrible parent, but Emily was the best. She was life and love and everything beautiful. And when I heard she had cancer, a part of me died inside. Because a part of me still loved her and was remorseful for a life we could never have. As I look at this church full of her friends and the people she loved the most, I know that Emily left this world with more love than she had entered it with. I wish you eternal peace, Em. I will love you fondly and forever. Thank you for loving the man you always saw good in. And I promise you that I will never stop trying to be a part of our daughter’s life.”

Max glanced over to find tears rolling down Josie’s cheeks. Her grip on his hand hadn’t loosened. In fact, it had tightened.

“And I would like to welcome Max Sheridan to the podium to speak on Josie’s behalf,” Mr Shames announced over the microphone.

Josie’s turned in her seat as her teary gaze met his. “You don’t have to,” she said in a small voice.

With his free hand, he cupped the back of her head and brought her forehead to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on her skin. Then he glanced down at her and whispered, “I would do everything and anything for you.” Then Max got up, and Josie let go of his hand. He climbed the few steps and made his way to the wooden podium and stepped behind it. Max adjusted the microphone and gazed out at all the mourners. He noticed his best friends in the third row. They all wore black to show their support for Josie. He would have to thank them for their support after the service.

Reaching into his pocket, Max pulled out Josie’s speech. He unfolded it and held it between his fingers as his eyes focused on Josie. There was a vacant spot next to her. Her father hadn’t slid across the bench to comfort her. Instead, Stella reached over and grasped her hand.

He smiled at her, and his heart went wild when she returned his smile with her own.

“Hello, everyone,” he said into the microphone. “My name’s Max Sheridan, and I’m Josephine’s—” He paused and watched Josie’s eyes widened. They didn’t have a label. They had nothing to classify them. He didn’t want to pressure her into putting them into a definition that would terrify her, so he backtracked. “Josephine is the love my life. And I have seen her strength through this hard time. Strength I know her mother would be so proud of. But today, she needs to mourn just like you all do. So for Josephine, I’ll speak on her behalf the beautiful words she wrote to her mother.”

Max glanced down at the paper because he needed a minute. He knew he’d have to cut out the part that involved her father. He couldn’t read that after the emotional speech Jeff had made where he admitted he was a terrible father. So Max took a deep breath and hoped he’d make Josie proud as he read the beautiful words she had written for her mother.

“My name’s Josephine Faulkner, and I happen to be blessed with having Emily Faulkner as my mother. My mother sacrificed so much for me, and for many years, I never appreciated her love enough. She continuously told me how much she loved me. Continuously supported me. She raised me when I was problematic and selfish. She was there when I gave up dreams. She was there to pick me up and tell me never to be discouraged because someday I’ll have the world and the stars and all the moons. I just had to experience the very worst in order to appreciate the very best. I had the best mother who took the blame when I was alone and didn’t have anyone else’s love.

“My mother fought hard. Loved even harder. Forgave when many didn’t deserve it. My mother had hope and so much wisdom. She once told me that I deserved more love in my life than just her love, and I found that. I found love that makes my heart full.” Max paused.

She found love with him. The love her mother had always wanted her to find. Then he lifted his chin to find the smile on her face had stretched wider as her tears continued to fall. He saw the love in her eyes. It was amazing to hear her say it earlier. But to actually read those words made him feel content. As if he had found his home with her. Home was Josephine. He wanted it so badly. Needed it so badly. Then Max’s gaze fell back to her speech, and he continued.

“And I think her knowing that I have found that makes her proud of me. My mother loved life. She loved the rain the most. Her favourite song was ‘La Vie en Rose,’ and she shared it with me so that it could be our song. Then I shared it with the man I love, and he made it his song, too. It bonded him with my mother, and he gave her the best goodbye anyone could ever imagine. I’m gonna tell you all a few more things about my mother that she would probably want you to remember her by than her cancer.

“My mother was afraid of sharks but loved the sharks from Finding Nemo. She was relieved when I told her that I had no intentions of playing sports when I was in primary school because she hated sports. Her favourite number was twenty-one. Her favourite movie was Sabrina. Her favourite city in the world was Paris. She once ate sixteen chocolate chip cookies because my old boss, Danny, refused outside food in his store. Her dream trip was to see as much of France as possible while collecting postcards from every French town she visited.

“And finally, she once told me that the proudest moment of her life was the life she had with me after I was born. That being a mother meant more than trips to France. Meant more than postcards. Being a mother was her having the world, and the stars, and the moons because she could never be discouraged. Because she had experienced the worst and had the very best by having a daughter. By having me. By choosing me. By loving me. My mother was the first person to ever put me first and I will never stop loving her. You all have your stories, your wonderful memories with Emily Faulkner. And I ask that you hold them close to you and remember her. Because that’s what she deserves. Just remember her.”

Max slowly folded the piece of paper. Returning it to his pocket, he added, “I never knew Emily. I wish I had because looking at all the people just inside this church alone, it’s clear she was a wonderful, loving woman. And I’m honoured to be the one who gets to love her daughter and hear the wonderful stories and memories of her from Josephine.”

Max nodded at Mr Shames and then walked away from the podium. He went down the short steps and back to his spot next to Josephine. The moment he was comfortable, she reached out and grasped his hand. He turned his head slightly to see her looking at him.

“Thank you, Maxwell,” she whispered before returning her focus to Mr Shames as he gave a speech about death and living. He spoke of Emily as if he knew her and then finally, “La Vie en Rose” began to play as images of Josephine and her mother were shown on the screen.

They were beautiful.

The very first had been of Emily holding Josie as a newborn.

It was like a time capsule.

Pictures of Josie and her mother through the years.

Her mother holding her hand with a sign that read, “My first tutu!”

Then her mother hugging a small Josephine in a school dress.

In the early pictures, her father was nearby or holding her hand.

After what Max presumed was when he had left for Berlin, it was just Josie and her mother. The pictures continued through Josie’s teenage years, and her mother had barely aged.

Emily Faulkner was beautiful.

Even in the last picture.

The picture Stella had told him was the last picture they had taken together. It was when Emily was cleared to leave the hospital. Two weeks before her death. It was a picture of Emily, Josie, Stella, and West in a backyard, smiling.

Max squeezed her hand, ensuring that she knew she would never be alone.

She had him.

She had Stella and West.

She had his friends.

She even had her father.

She would survive her grief.

He was sure it.

Mr Shames thanked everyone for attending the funeral service and announced that the reception would be held at the hotel across the road, but Max remained seated with Josie on the pew. As people began to approach them, Josie got up and hugged and thanked those who gave her their condolences. Max stood by her side and also thanked them for attending the service.

And when the man in the tailored black suit approached them, Max froze.

“Dad,” he breathed, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for Josephine,” he stated as he gave Josie a tight smile and then leant over and hugged her. When he pulled back, he said, “Your mother was beautiful, Josephine. I’m so sorry you lost her so early.”

“Thank you, Mr Sheridan,” she said in a small voice.

He nodded. “Do you mind if I speak to my son really quickly?”

“No. Not at all.”

Max gazed down at her. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll be here,” she answered.

“All right,” Max said as he gestured for his father to lead him away from Josie. They made it to the side door of the church, away from the groups of people who began to encroach on Josie.

His father set his hands on Max’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I’m so proud of you, Maxwell.”

Max stilled. His father had never once expressed any ounce of being proud of him before. Never really saw it on his face until now. “You are?”

“I am. Up there, I saw a man I wish I could be. I knew you used to be in love with that Sarah girl, and I worried you’d never move on from her. But as you read Josephine’s speech, I heard the love in your voice. Saw it on your face when you paused. You made me a proud father today because you stood there and supported the woman you love who is grieving. I just wanted to say how proud I am of you. Since she came into your life, you’ve matured and seem so much happier.”

“I can’t disagree with you on that. She’s made my life better, Dad,” he agreed.

“I have to head back to the office. Don’t come back to work. I’ve had Ruby send your clients to me. I want you to look after her, and when she’s ready, tell her that I still want her to do her placement at our firm. She deserved that spot, and I have no plans to hire anyone else. When someone turns down a placement at Gordon Sheridan, they leave an impression, and she sure left one the day I met her. As I’m sure she did with you. Now, take care of her. Don’t rush back to work. Support her, Maxwell.”

“Josie went to you for a placement?”

He nodded. “You remember Jason? He’s her tutor. He recommended her.”

“Why didn’t she take it?”

“I think it was because I’m your father and you were leaving for Boston.”

His heart dipped at the mention of Boston. “I made such a mistake when I thought leaving her was what I had to do.”

“I know, Maxwell. But you came back, and she needs you more than ever. I love you, son.”

The heaviness in his chest lightened as he stepped forward and hugged his father tightly. Emily’s death made him realise just how quickly life could change. Even though he’d held resentment against his father for some time, Max loved him. “I love you, too, Dad.”

 

 

Somehow, accepting condolences became easier after a while. So many of her mother’s friends and employees expressed their grief and spoke of how wonderful her mother was. It was happiness and torture the moment they began to tell her their favourite memories of her mother. She was glad they thought of her so fondly. She was relieved they had good memories rather than the ones Josie had of seeing her mother so sick.

“Thank you,” Josie said to a man named Andy who delivered her mother’s products to her store.

“Your mother was a wonderful woman,” Andy said before he stepped away and Clara, Stevie, and Ally approached her.

“You guys came,” Josie said in awe. She hadn’t expected to see them. Max had told Noel that her mother had passed away, so she assumed he would tell Clara. Her mother’s death was in the paper and had made the rounds on social media. That was how her ex-boss, Danny, had found out and called her. Josie had thanked him but told him to stay in California. Her mother wouldn’t want him to travel all that way. But he had sent her flowers and a box of chocolate chip cookies.

“Of course, we came. We’re so sorry, Josie,” Ally, her boss at the bakery, said as she wrapped her arms around her. Then Stevie and Clara hugged her.

It was heart-warming to have friends who cared so much.

She adored them.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you,” Josie said as she swallowed her sob, not allowing this one to come out.

The girls stepped away, and Clara shook her head. “We understand. I loved your mother, Josie. I still have that picture of her from the bakery when she helped that day we had all those firefighters come in and beg us to donate cupcakes for their open house. We didn’t have enough hands, and she helped bake for free.”

Josie laughed as the memory came to her. “Is it the photo of us on either side of the fireman holding her?”

“Yeah. I’ll send it to you.”

“Oh,” Stevie said as she pulled something out from her handbag. “It’s from Julian. He wanted me to give you this.”

Josie took it from her. “What is it?”

Stevie sighed. “It’s lyrics to ‘Josie and the Pussycats.’ He wrote them out and changed some of the words for you. Even tried to draw you, but he stuffed up. So that’s why there’s a giant cross on the corner of the page.”

To her surprise, she let out a laugh as she unfolded the page. Then she laughed harder as she read some of the lyrics Julian had written. She folded the paper and glanced over at Stevie. “Where is he? I need to tell him that I think he’s an idiot.”

Stevie chuckled. “He went to find Max with the boys.”

“Right. Max.” Josie breathed.

“Max was amazing up there, Josie,” Ally stated.

Josie didn’t need to be told twice.

Her love for him seemed to double, if not triple, the sets of beats her heart made. She loved him. She would never be able to express just how thankful she was for him.

“Yeah,” Josie agreed.

“You really do love him,” Clara stated rather than asked.

Josie nodded. “I do. He’s—”

“Excuse me,” her father said, interrupting her. “I’m sorry, but could I speak to Josephine for a moment?”

“Ah, sure,” Clara said, and her father glanced to his right and flinched.

“Clara Lawrence, it’s been a while.”

Clara smiled, to be polite no doubt. She was one of the rare few who knew about her relationship with her father. “It has, Ambassador Faulkner. It’s actually Parker now. I got married earlier in the year.”

“That’s right, you did. And Josephine was one of your bridesmaids.”

Josie was surprised her father remembered. It was one of the things she had slipped in during their phone call to reach the mandatory five minutes she promised him.

“She was,” Clara confirmed with a smile.

“Is everything okay?” Josie asked.

“Yeah. I’d like to speak to you, though, if that’s okay?”

“Sure. I’ll be back,” Josie promised her friends, and her father led her down the aisle and out into the foyer. She smiled at those who attended her mother’s funeral, and her father walked her to an empty corner. When he spun around, she began to say, “Dad, about—”

“You were grieving,” he said as he stepped forward and clutched her shoulders with his hands, holding her still. “Josephine, I’d like for you to come back to Berlin with me.”

She stilled. “What?”

“I leave tomorrow night.”

“You want me to go to Berlin with you?”

He nodded. “I’d like for you to meet your sisters and Johanna. I want you to be part of our family.”

Josie was too stunned for words to leave her mouth.

“We have an apartment in another wing of the manor we live in. There’s plenty of room. The girls want to meet you. I’d like a chance to be a proper father to you, Josephine. I’d like to really get to know you. Seeing those images of you and your mother and the times I have missed gives me this emptiness. I don’t want any more regrets. I don’t want to lose you as my daughter, Josephine. Please come to Germany.” Tears rolled down his face.

Josie’s lips seemed to dry as she parted them. “I-I … You want me to go to Berlin with you?”

He nodded. “Please? Give me a chance. Let me be your family again.”

“Josie, I just saw Clara—oh, hey, Mr Faulkner,” Stella said, unknowingly saving Josie from answering her father.

“We’ll talk later,” her father said and then sidestepped her. “You did a wonderful job with the funeral, Stella.”

“Thanks, but it was all Max. I just did the photos,” her best friend downplayed.

Josie spun around and watched her father make his way back into the church.

“Josie, you’re pale. Are you okay?” Stella asked, concern boomed in her voice.

Josie nodded. “He leaves for Berlin tomorrow night, Stella.”

“Oh.”

“He wants me to go with him.”

“Ooooh.”

“He pleaded for me to go. He wants us to be a family,” she added.

Stella’s green eyes flashed. “But your family is here,” she said, sounding hurt. “With me and West. We’re your family, Josie.”

“Stella, I just lost my mother. As much as he’s let me down, he’s my dad. And I made a promise to her that I would try with him.”

“But I’m your family, Josie,” she cried as tears consumed her eyes. “I’m your family.”

Josie’s heart broke as she realised she had disappointed the one person in her life who she had never wanted to. She quickly wrapped her arms around her best friend. “I’ll think it over, okay? I’m sorry, Stella. What was I thinking? I have you. I have West. I have Max. You’re my family. Always have been. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Stella held her tighter. “If you have to go, I’ll be waiting for you to come home. But I don’t want you to go to Berlin. I’m going to miss you if you do.”

It was as if Stella already knew Josie’s choice.

Watching her mother’s casket lower into the ground was one of the hardest things Josie had to witness. There was nothing she could do but watch. Her mother hadn’t wanted to be cremated. Besides there not being many flowers at her funeral, she had explicitly expressed her desire to be buried. And it was a wish she had fulfilled for her mother.

After the final shovel of dirt covered her mother’s grave, Josie let out that breath burning her lungs. Pain was strange. She knew it hurt her, but it made her feel. Made the numbness dwindle. Josie had stayed at the reception for an hour before she decided to leave. Stella and West had stayed behind to play hosts for her. And on her way out, she told her father that she would think about Berlin. She had to talk to Max. They weren’t in a relationship, but she felt like they were. She loved him. And she couldn’t bear to go without him.

Max held the door open as she stepped inside her apartment. She heard Max set her bag on the hallway table and then close the door. It felt so natural to have him do so. Felt so natural to have him stay with her. The only time he went home was to pick up fresh clothes every morning. She loved having him with her. But it was selfish, too. Max had his own apartment. His own career. His own life. And the thought had her swaying towards going to Germany with her father. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be gone. University was over for her. She had already failed two units with her exam no-shows. Her mother was dead, and her father was her only blood relative left.

She had also made a promise to her mother that she would try with her father.

And she wanted to get to know Heidi and Angelika.

She wanted to get to know Johanna.

She wanted to be a part of a family again.

“Josephine,” Max whispered behind her. He set his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. Then she spun around and linked her arms around his neck. Her eyes roamed every feature on his face as reasons to stay collided with her reasons to go.

“I love you,” she breathed.

“I love you,” he said in that breathless tone she loved.

“Thank you for today. For the past nine days. I know I haven’t really said much, but I really appreciate you standing up there for me. You gave my speech the soul it was missing.”

Max’s eyes watered. It was the first time she had seen him with tears in his eyes since her mother had died. “I did nothing but read the words you wrote.”

“You made them sound beautiful.”

“Can I ask you something?”

She nodded. “Of course, you can.”

“I know this isn’t the best time to discuss us. You lost your mother just over a week ago, and it makes me feel selfish asking you this, but being up there, I realised … I want to …”

Josie’s arms untangled as she palmed the nape of his neck.

She knew what he wanted to ask.

Her heart craved it.

Needed it.

“Maxwell, please just ask me.”

His hands latched onto her wrists as he let out a shaky breath. “Can I be more to you?”

“You already are more, Max.”

He shook his head. “No. I want the title. I want to be yours, Josephine. I know you love me. I know I’ve fucked up before. I made a mistake that I could never forget. I let you down when you needed me the most. I don’t want to take advantage of you, but I just need to know. When you’re ready, can I be your boyfriend? Can I someday have a key to your apartment? Can I finally imagine the rest of my life with you?”

Oh, God.

Pain.

So much pain entered her chest.

Maxwell Sheridan wanted commitment with her.

But Berlin.

“I-I,” she stuttered. “Max …”

Despair consumed his light brown eyes. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” she said as she brought her hands up to settle on his cheeks. “I want to be with you. I want to be your girlfriend. I want you to have a key to my apartment—even though West isn’t allowed one because Stella likes opening the door for him. I want you to feel at home with us. I love that you imagine the rest of your life with me. Because I want that, too. But …”

“There’s a ‘but’?” he whispered in pain as his hands left her wrists and fell to the sides of his body.

“There’s a ‘but,’” she confirmed.

The agony that consumed his face had her closing her eyes. She felt him press his forehead against hers and urged, “Tell me.”

Josie opened her eyes and looked in his. “My dad wants me to go to Berlin with him. He wants me to meet his wife and his daughters. He wants me to be a part of his family, Max.”

He instantly pulled away from her. He seemed at a loss. She didn’t blame him if he stormed out. He had put his heart on the line, and she had destroyed his desire for commitment with the idea of her being in Germany with her father.

“And you want—”

God, what have I done?

“No,” she blurted out, making her final decision. “I want to be with you. I want to finally be with you.”

He seemed to be in disbelief with her answer. His eyes wide as he shook his head. “But you want to meet them, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And you want a relationship with your father?”

“I want us to get along.”

“But—”

She shook her head. “No, Maxwell. I was stupid for even considering going to Berlin. My life needs to be with yours right now. I love you so much, and I am so sorry that I even thought about leaving.”

Max stepped forward, grasped her by the shoulders, and crashed his lips to hers. Josie clutched his shirt between her fingers as she kissed him back.

In the nine days since her mother had died, he had been gentle when he kissed her.

Soft pecks as if touching her would break her.

But this kiss was filled with so much love and passion that she was almost dizzy. This was what she needed to feel.

His love.

This was life again.

He didn’t stop.

It was as if she were his air and he was breathing her in.

Josie’s fingers relaxed, and she slid them up his chest to find the knot of his tie. She loosened it just as Max began to walk them towards her bedroom. With a little work, she managed to unknot his tie, and she pulled it away from his neck to fall on the hallway floor. Then he helped her remove his shirt, and it also made it to the floor in her lounge room as did her Mary Jane flats.

“Josephine,” he moaned into her mouth as her hands left his naked chest. She bent down, reaching for the hem of her dress. When she reached it, Max pulled away from her. The indecision in his eyes had her pausing. “What are we doing?”

Her fingers lost their grip, and she let go of her dress. “I thought—”

Max covered his face with his palms and let out a grunt. Then he lowered his hands and licked his lips. “Josephine, you’re still grieving, and I don’t think you’ve thought Berlin over properly. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Josie reached behind her and grasped her bedroom door handle. She let out a breath of air as she twisted it and pushed the door just a smidge open. “I am still grieving my mother. I don’t think I’ll be okay with her being gone for a long time. But I know deep down that she’s gone, Max. I want to feel again. I want to feel what we had before that Sunday. I thought Berlin through, and I don’t want to go without you. And you’re not taking advantage me. I want you. I need you. Please don’t take this away from me. I love you and want to be with you. I choose you, Maxwell Sheridan. You hear me? I choose you.”

“Josephine.”

“I didn’t have any other choice.” She bent her knees and grasped the end of her black dress again. Seconds later, she lifted it up and over her head. She let it fall to the floor, standing in only her black lace bra and underwear, and black stockings. The only colour that had been on her had been the pink rose pin that Stella had her wear. Max had one pinned to his shirt, but that had found its way to the floor earlier.

Max’s eyes remained on hers. He seemed torn. And yes, maybe she was being selfish, but she needed him. Needed the pain to go away. She wanted that pressure in her chest gone. She wanted his love to finally be hers. Josie slipped her fingers into the tops of his black pants and tugged him closer until his chest pressed to hers and her right hand curled around the back of his head, edging his lips closer to hers.

“Please,” she breathed. Her heart hammered in her chest as Max’s eyes drifted to her lips.

His hands found her hips as he whispered, “I love you, Josephine.”

Her heart clenched at his declaration. She wasn’t sure what it was about this I love you from him, but it was far more desperate. Filled with more pain and honesty. But before she could even think further about it, Max’s lips crashed to hers, and he walked her back into her room and kicked the door shut.

They became a mess of hurried fingers as they removed the remaining articles of clothing in their way.

Max had peeled Josie’s black stockings away ever so slowly.

Her bra and panties, gone seconds later.

When she was completely naked, she sat at the foot of the bed and watched him step out of his shoes, pull off his socks, and unbuckle his belt. He pulled it swiftly out of the loops of his pants. His eyes had met hers as he unfastened his black pants. He had pulled them down along with his underwear until he was naked. Josie’s eyes drifted down, taking in every ounce of perfection on his body. Max stepped closer, bent down, and cupped her face in his hands.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Are you sure you want this between us?”

Josie nodded. “I do. I need you, Maxwell. I need you like I miss you when you’re with me.”

His eye flashed with understanding, and he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her slowly and gently. Josie lifted her hand and wrapped her fingers around his hard length, pumping him in the speed of their kiss. Slow and full of need. As she tightened her grip to add more pressure, Max let out a groan, and it gave her the chance to slip her tongue past his lips to glide against his, taking them to another level.

“Josephine,” Max moaned as he turned away from her kiss, lost in the pleasure she gave him. “Fuck … fuck …”

Josie tightened her grip. Stroked his hard length faster. Then her lips found his in chaste kisses. Over and over as she watched him close his eyes and let out soft groans.

Then his hand shot down and wrapped around her wrist, stopping her hand’s strokes. “No, this isn’t about me,” he said as he opened his eyes.

“Max.” He shook his head and pulled her hand away from him. Then he stood and walked over to pick up his pants when she said, “No.”

“No?” He looked at her confused.

“I don’t want anything between us.”

Max’s lips parted as he returned to her, bending his knees so his eyes were level with hers. “I’m clean. You’re the only woman I’ve been with for almost a year.”

Josie reached out and set her palm on his jaw as her other hand combed his brown hair back. “I’ve never made love to a man without a condom. I’m clean, too. I’m also on birth control.”

His eyes widened. “But I haven’t seen you take—”

She shook her head with a smile. “I’m on the shot,” she corrected as she watched the muscles in his neck strain with the hard swallow he had just made.

“Josephine, I have to ask …”

“Yes?”

Max pressed his forehead to hers. “You won’t regret this once we’re finished? I think it might kill me if you do. I’d rather walk away now than be your regret. I don’t think I could stomach that. I don’t think I could live with myself if I ended up taking advantage of your current state.”

“No,” she breathed as pulled away from him and made her way to the middle of her bed. “No regrets, Max. I’m done living a life of regrets.”

He stared at her for a long moment before climbing on the bed. He covered her body with his, settling perfectly between her legs. She felt him hard against her core. She needed more than just contact. She needed relief. She needed him inside her. She needed to feel him this way.

Josie’s hand skimmed the side of his body until she grasped his bottom cheek and squeezed, urging him to take her. She bent her knees and tilted her hips, causing her to rub against him perfectly. The pleasure was so small but enough to leave her wanting and desperately needing more.

“Maxwell, I need more,” she pleaded.

He dipped his head, and his lips found hers, kissing her as if it were the first and last time. It was hard and soft. Tender and devilish. It was everything a kiss with passion and need should have.

Max’s hips flexed as he slid his hardness against her slit. She could feel how much she desired him. How much she wanted and needed him.

“Please,” she moaned desperately.

He was torturing her and loving her.

He was killing her and cherishing her.

His lips pressed against her chin and along her neck as he promised to make her happy.

Promised to make her feel loved as his face dipped lower to her chest, and he swirled his tongue over her peaked nipple. Over and over again. He licked and sucked and gently bit her. Then he moved over to her other breast and did just the same.

The ache in her was growing out of control as she began to meet the slide of his erection against her to further increase the pressure. The pleasure. Then he quickened his strokes. To get her to that high he was slowly building.

As if he knew she couldn’t take anymore, Max slid a hand between them, fisting himself, and aligned himself at her entrance. He propped himself up on one hand as he lovingly gazed down at her.

He was panting. His chest rose and fell heavily. “I’ll make you happy, Josephine. I’ll make you so happy.”

“I know you will,” she agreed as she felt him slowly enter. It was difficult for her to keep her eyes open as he flexed his hips and inched farther and farther into her until he reached the hilt. They both let out relieved groans.

Max pressed his other hand by her head on the mattress as he held himself still. She knew he was letting her adjust. He was by far larger and thicker than any other man she had been with. But soon that burn began to fade into flutters of pleasure.

“Come back to me,” she whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised as he dipped his head, and his lips found hers, kissing her the way she felt like she deserved to be kissed all her life. Her nails dug into his flesh as her left hand threaded through his hair.

It seemed like they were breathing each other in.

They were each other’s air as he kissed her deeply.

So deeply that she moaned, wanting so much more.

As if he sensed her need for more, Max slowly pulled out of her. It was so different having him bare. It felt more intimate. She felt more of him. Felt him throb against her.

It was raw.

It was love.

This was making love.

Max flexed his hips and entered her once again.

Josie tilted her head back and curled her toes, loving just how much he stretched her and filled her.

“Max,” she sighed.

It was too good.

Too much.

But not enough.

“Please make love to me. Please,” she said once she opened her eyes to find his on her.

He nodded. “Faster?”

“Please.”

His rhythm sped up.

But his thrusts weren’t animalistic.

They were perfect.

Again and again, he entered her.

His thrusts were long and hard and calculated.

His thrusts added to her pleasure as she continued to moan and cry out his name.

He knew how to love her right.

How to please her.

And satisfy her.

“Oh, God, Max,” she breathed. “Oh, God …”

Max got on his elbows and pressed into her again and again as he kissed her lips, her chin, and her jaw over and over.

“Fuck, Josephine!” he cursed as he increased his pace to reach euphoria.

“Max, Max, Max,” she said in pleas as she tilted her hips and met his thrusts, finding the perfect rhythm between them. “I can’t … Oh, God, I can’t. Oh, oh, right there. Yes, yes, yes!”

“Come for me, Josephine,” he urged once he moved his lips to her ear. His whispers had her closing her eyes, falling into pleasure without a care. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Her orgasm was on the fringe of taking her over.

It was there.

His hips surged into her as his pubic bone brushed against the top of her core, adding to the pressure that was building and needed to explode.

“Max, God, I love you,” she moaned as her fingers dug into him. “I love you. I love you. I …”

“I love you,” he groaned. “Always will.”

“Yes … Yes … Oh, my God, Max. I’m gonna … come … Oh, God!”

“My La Vie En Rose.”

He had whispered the words to send her to euphoria as she reached her high.

Her orgasm completely swept through her as she withered against him and gasped for air. She was still coming when she felt Max throb inside her and he became harder. His muscles tensed, and she knew he was about to come.

“Oh, fuck, Josephine!” he groaned into her neck as he jerked, and she felt him release inside her. It was the first time a man had ever come inside her without a condom.

It felt so intimate.

And it felt so right with Max.