Chapter 17

Max

Happiness came in the form of Lia grinning while wearing a white apron as she tied up garbage bags and did dishes inside a church kitchen. Happiness was also watching her and knowing she was mine.

“That’s it, Enchilada Man. Catering gig number one is done.” She winked at me, tying the last of the garbage bags as she set them by the exit. Rubbing her hand over the yellow bandanna she wore on her head, she smiled wide and moved my way.

“Enchilada Man, eh?” I grinned, yanking the last of the foil off the roll to cover the leftovers. I planned to take them to the women’s shelter near my building.

“I think I like this pet name stuff. Can I call you Burrito Hottie?” I walked around the table and wrapped my arm around her waist.

“Hmm… I think I’d like it if you called me the Tostada Princess instead. I’m filled with layers that you can peel off and eat one by one.”

“I can deal with layers.” Balls tight, knees weak, I scanned her body, appreciating the perfection of her dress and wondering at the same time what was underneath. It was yellow, maybe gold, and definitely not the type of thing I was used to seeing her in. Still, as with all the other dresses she wore, I’d kill to see it on the floor of a bedroom—hers or mine, didn’t matter which.

I yanked her closer by the waist. Screw the fact that God was probably frowning on us. I wasn’t scared of hell if it meant I got to kiss this pretty thing in my arms again. “Fuck, you’ve got beautiful lips.”

“I do, huh?”

Nodding, I leaned forward, ready to show her how much I loved them, only for a cock-blocking granny to enter the room at the same time.

“Um, excuse me?”

My brows shot up as I turned to face today’s employer with her tiny nose and wide eyes. She ogled me from behind her glasses, a flirty grin on her red-painted lips. She was the first one to hire me for a paying gig after walking by my building one night. She’d mistaken it for a flower shop. Cock-blocker or not, I owed her. Not only for today, but because I’d gotten two other jobs from her fellow quilting friends.

“Forget something, ma’am?” I asked.

She tipped her head to the side, and her grin grew even wider. “I just wanted to thank you again for everything. The food was so delicious, and everyone was very impressed with your services.” She took a step closer, nearly knocking Lia out of the way. “And I wanted to say too…if you’re ever in the market for a baker to make desserts, don’t hesitate to call me.” She bit her bottom lip, leaving a faded stain on her teeth. “I can make a mean brownie when I want to.”

Lia smothered her face against my shirtsleeve, squelching a laugh. I pinched her and she squeaked instead, but still held her knuckles against her mouth.

Once the lady finished ogling me, she took off, a little extra shake in her hips.

I turned to Lia again. “You’re insane, woman.”

She walked around to the other side of the table, owning every move she made. If sexiness could be patented, my girl would be the reigning queen.

“It’ll always be like that for you, won’t it? The parade of women, all ages, throwing themselves at you in some way or another…” She walked back around the table, grinning.

“That bother you?”

She shrugged, tossing some more garbage into the can. “Maybe. But it’s not a deal breaker.”

The memory of her calling me a man whore ran through my head. But I figured if she was really bothered by women coming on to me, she’d say something.

She zipped up the bag we’d brought along for the plates and silverware. “There.” She looked back at me, one eyebrow raised and a half smile on her lips. Those lips were purple today—bright purple like the new color she’d added to the underside of her cotton-candy-colored hair. I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

“What’re you looking at, Soldier Boy?”

“Nothing. Just like looking at you and knowing you’re mine.”

She rolled her eyes, shouldering the bag. “I’m not anybody’s.”

“Sure you are.” I lifted the rest of my stuff and cradled it in my arms as we headed toward the door. “You’re mine to kiss and touch. And I don’t plan on sharing you, unless of course you initiate it.”

She laughed but didn’t dismiss the idea. “So, a threesome is okay, then? Like, I could call Gavin and ask him to—”

“Fuck no.” I shuddered, opening the back door with my shoulder. I’d driven the Charger today, feeling like my lady needed a carriage.

“I was kidding. Relax.” She laughed, the sound so spectacular I couldn’t help but watch her. Head thrown back, eyes shut…

Stunning.

Inside the car, she turned to me as I started the engine. It rumbled and purred, making me wanna rev the thing and race it down the road.

“Don’t worry. I’m not up for threesomes either, in case you were wondering.” She winked, but I couldn’t shake the rock lodged in my chest.

What if this thing brewing between us wasn’t anything but a good time for her? Something to tide her over—maybe help her get over Travis. Jesus, this insecurity bullshit wasn’t fun.

“You’re thinking an awful lot over there.” She reached across the console and squeezed my hand. Taking it up another notch, I interlocked her fingers with mine, palm to palm, the anxiety inside me easing at her touch.

“Just…happy is all.” I blew out a heavy breath, lying, but not knowing how else to explain my feelings.

“Happy looks good on you, ya know.” She leaned her head back against the seat, eyes half-lidded.

I stroked my thumb over hers. “You’ve always been the one to make me the happiest.”

She turned toward the window. “Then it’s obvious you’ve led a pretty boring life.”

I frowned. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

I turned down her street, trying to pull in my frustration. The last thing I wanted was to fight with her. I might have kissed her lips, laid claim to her mouth, but that didn’t mean I’d laid a full-on claim over her heart yet. Love was just a word in the scheme of things.

“I give you a compliment, and you follow it up with something negative.”

She shook her head, and a chunk of her new purple hair fell out of the back of her bandanna. My finger twitched, wanting to brush the hair off her neck.

“That’s what I do, Max.” She shrugged. “Get used to it.”

“So, you don’t want me to compliment you? Because I’m not sure if I can do that.”

I turned to look at her just in time to see her frown. Her response never came though, and I didn’t push for it. The ache in my gut said not to. That something bad would happen if I did. More than anything, I wanted to stop the car right there in the middle of her street, pull her onto my lap, and tell her how stupid she was being. Because when a guy is trying to win the heart of a woman, compliments happen. It’s part of relationship building. I might not have been all that experienced with commitment, but I knew a beautiful woman deserved a compliment any chance you could give her one.

“I’m pretty tired tonight. Probably won’t be much fun.” She yawned when I pulled into a parking spot near her apartment building.

My shoulders tensed as I put my car in Park. Was she trying to push me away again? “No problem. We’ll just order some pizza instead of cooking. Maybe watch a little Netflix.”

“You want to Netflix and chill with me, Maxwell?”

She smirked, her arms folded under her tits. I looked at them, then looked at her face. “Yeah? So? I’m tired as hell too and would like nothing more than to get you naked and kiss you all over.”

“You’re… Ugh.” But I saw her grin, and those gorgeous cheeks turned pink too.

Then when she stepped out of my car and headed toward the trunk, I knew I’d won.

Inside her apartment, she flicked on the lights and tossed her bag onto the floor. “I’m going to take a quick shower. There’s alcohol in the cupboard next to the microwave and pizza menus in the top drawer.” She tried giving me a little smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Go ahead and order whatever you want.”

Nodding, I put the leftovers inside the fridge, then tugged off my shirt. It stank of old lady perfume and Mexican food—a combination I didn’t like much.

It didn’t take me long to find the menus. She had next to nothing in the drawers, except for the occasional plastic piece of silverware.

Once I’d dialed and ordered, I started snooping around. I’d only been in Lia’s place twice, and once was when she’d moved in a year or so ago. Before that, she’d been staying wherever she could crash, which always bugged me. I didn’t know why until now. She was reckless back then, didn’t seem to worry about anything. Even before I realized I was half in love with her, I hated thinking she was unsafe.

After everything she’d been through, you’d think she would have been a little more careful about what she did, where she stayed, who she lived with.

She’d started watching Chloe during the day while Collin worked, and with what he paid her, along with her job at the coffee shop, she made enough money to move into her own place. Not sure what her plan for money was now that she’d quit Jimney’s. Even if she said no, I’d pay her for the catering gigs she helped with.

Once I’d thoroughly hunted through the space, I headed back to her bedroom. A small, beat-up futon shared space with a few blankets and pillows scattered all over. Apparently that was where she slept. I frowned at the thought of her living this way, but she didn’t seem unhappy, and I wouldn’t judge.

“Jesus, Max, what’re you doing in here? You scared me.”

I turned, my body going stiff at the view. Wrapped in a towel, blue eyes wide, with her wet hair dripping down her bare shoulders, Lia stood in the doorframe, studying me.

“Nice bed.” I grinned, motioning toward the futon I was ready to toss her onto.

“Thanks…?”

Instead of running to her, wrapping my arms around her waist and kissing her ’til I lost my mind, I fell back on top of her blankets with a grunt and folded my arms behind my head. My feet hung over the edge, my elbows too.

“You’re welcome.” I motioned toward the nineteen-inch dinosaur TV. “Now, hand me the remote, please.”

When she didn’t move, I sat up higher to look at her better. She tugged the top of her towel up and bit her bottom lip. I stared at her naked legs, one eyebrow arched, waiting.

“Um…” Her cheeks went red again. For a girl with as much attitude as she had, Lia sure did blush a lot. “Do you think you think you could wait out in the living room or something?” She crossed and uncrossed her ankles.

I raised both my eyebrows this time, feeling no shame as I let my gaze wander over the exposed tats on her shoulder and neck. “Nope. Thinking I’m good right here.”

The pink-and-black tattoos reminded me of a picture I once saw at an art show in Tennessee—a Japanese tree tunnel, I think it was called. Pink flowers on the ground, pink flowers cascading over the tops in the trees…exotic, gorgeous, stunning, and just like her.

“Fine.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And then she did the opposite of what I expected her to do. She turned around and dropped the towel onto the floor, showing off the finest ass I’d ever seen in my life.