Neighborly Complications (Stories of Serendipity #1) (13 page)

He leaned against her bedpost and relaxed his posture. “I’ve got all night.”

She flushed at the implication in his words, but one look at his face told her he was serious. He really wanted to know. So she told him. After taking another drink of fortification.

“My first boyfriend after college was James. We met at a bar, and he swept me off my feet.” Her sweeping hand gestures were a little drunken, but she was proud of the fact that she seemed to have gotten a handle on her speech. “He told me I was beautiful, wined and dined me, he seemed perfect. Then, one night at a Mexican food restaurant, I asked the busboy for Salsa Verde, and James went off on the English language, and why did I have to speak Spanish if he was in our country.” The memory made her mad, and she got louder.

Max nodded, and she took it as a sign of encouragement. “When he told me he didn’t ever want to hear me speak Spanish again, I asked him why. He said that leaders of the new world regime would speak English, or its mother tongue, German.” Max’s jaw dropped and Claire nodded. “Yup, I’d been sleeping with a man who wanted to start another genocide. It was sickening.”

“Then was Mark. Shortly after we met, he was “unjustly” kicked out of his apartment, so he came to live with me. He was supposed to sleep on my couch, but that didn’t work, and we had sex like bunnies, until I realized he was using me. I paid for everything, because he didn’t have a job. The sex wasn’t good enough to support his lazy ass, so I kicked him out. The next time I saw him, he was shacking up with his new lover, a guy named Simon.” Max chuckled, and scooted down on his perch at the foot of the bed. He slipped a hand under her covers and pulled out one of her feet and rubbed it gently.

“Mmmm…that feelsh good.” Claire relaxed and took another sip of Brandy, sinking down under the covers some more. She watched his gaze darken and realized what she’d just sounded like. She kept going. “Tom was the last one.”

“The bride jilter,” Max said.

She was surprised he’d remembered. Claire had told him that the day he’d broken down and lost his man card.

Softly, she muttered, “Tonight was supposed to be the first night I spent as Mrs. Thomas O’Neal.” His hand stopped its circular motions on her toes.

“I’m so sorry. You were supposed to get married today?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I caught him sleeping with his secretary at work. Caught him slapping his balls into her ass while she moaned his name, and he had the nerve to tell me it was an accident. Then he turned it around on me and told me I was too independent…Not relationship material.”

The memory still stung. She knew she didn’t love him. Not anymore, probably not ever, but the sight of him clutching his secretary’s hips, pumping into her with his eyes closed and mouth open was ingrained forever in her memory.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back on her pillow. Silence met her from Max. Before she realized, the bed shifted and when she opened her eyes again, his face was inches away from hers, his body hovering over her.

“Your independence is an asset, Claire. Any guy could see that. And I could kill the asshole for treating you that way. You are relationship material. You’ve busted down my walls.” His eyes were focused on hers and she saw the truth in them before they started travelling all over her face.

She was afraid he would kiss her, and she would be lost. “I’m a lousy judge of character.” She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her face, examining it. He leaned away from her slightly to allow it. She could smell him; he smelled like grass and man, a heady odor that reeled her senses. If she squinted her eyes just right, she could only see the one hand. It was huge and calloused, covered with scratches and scars. She turned it over and rubbed his palm with her index finger, stroking its roughness.

“Am I wrong about you, too?”

Max leaned over more, so his face was inches from hers, again. “I’m a good guy, Claire. Not perfect. But I have a good business. I don’t live with my mom, and I respect women. I don’t know what’s happened to you in the past, but I promise you, I’m not out to hurt you.” He said it all softly, his buttery voice like a caress.

Claire leaned over and put the bottle on the floor by her bed. “I’m drunk.” She stated the obvious, a little too loudly. “You’re not going to take advantage, are you?”

He put his hand over his heart and looked at her, eyes wide with an innocence that caused a giggle to erupt. “I would never.”

“You can sleep in my bed with me tonight.” She said quietly, dropping her gaze to her feet..

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t slept in a man’s arms without any expectations in a while, and I think I need it tonight. If you keep questioning me though, I might change my mind.”

Max stood abruptly, pulling his shirt up over his head while he kicked off his boots. Undoing his belt, he looked at Claire questioningly.

She nodded, “As long as you’re wearing underwear. I’m not ready to do all that yet.”

Max grinned at her and lowered his jeans to the floor. Claire exhaled a breath that she didn’t know she’d been holding, as she openly admired Max’s nearly naked body.

The man didn’t seem to have an ounce of fat on him anywhere. His broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist that led to strong muscular legs. A fine layer of dark hair covered his chest, and the enticing trail from his navel to the waistband of his boxers made her pulse quicken. Forcing her eyes back to his face, she could see he was still smiling, albeit a little smugly.

She pulled the covers open. “Quit grinning at me like that, and get your ass in here.”

He crawled under the covers and pulled her into his arms. His limbs entwined with hers, before he settled down, pulling her body close to his.

“You feel good, Claire.”

“I’m too drunk to do anything, Max.”

“I’ve already told you I won’t take advantage. Trust me.”

The alcohol having dulled her senses, she felt an indescribably desire to feel the entire length of his body. She raised her head to look at him, and then made her decision. She began crawling on top of him as his body stiffened.

“Okay, you can trust me, but don’t tempt me.” His voice was a growl through clenched teeth that made Claire giggle.

“Human blanket.”

“What?” His arms came around her body, and Claire stretched her comparably tiny frame over his massive one, suddenly feeling as snug as a child on a stormy night.

“I’m a Claire-bear blanket.”

“O-okay.” Max sighed, but didn’t say anything else.

She admitted to herself that she was scared. Scared that whoever had done this to her house would come back. But for right now, she felt safe in Max’s arms. And that scared her too. Those were her last thoughts before the brandy took over and she sank into her much-desired oblivion.

T
he next morning, tucked into her bed snugly, memories of Claire’s hot little body stretched over him fresh on his brain. And a vision was staring at him.

Claire’s hair was sticking up in all directions, her eyes were glazed with sleep, her face lined with creases, but all in all, she was one of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

And she was actually smiling at him.

“You feeling okay this morning?”

She was still grinning at him like an idiot. “Yup.”

“What?” He felt like he was the butt of somebody else’s inside joke.

Her smile turned smug. “You drool when you sleep.”

“What? No I don’t.”

“Then why is there a wet spot on your pillow?”

Max looked at the offending spot and then turned to Claire. “That must be yours. I don’t drool.”

“Girls rule, boys drool. That’s the saying. I’m a girl; you’re a boy. Your drool.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, but memories of her body against his last night kept him from letting her out of bed that easily. He leaned over, grabbing her tiny waist with his massive grip, and flopped her back on the bed. She fought him, half-heartedly, and he grasped both of her hands in one of his and held them over her head. He reveled in his domination of her, and wondered how long it could last before she got pissed at him.

With his face inches from hers, he could feel her body beneath his. He adjusted himself so that the evidence of his morning arousal wasn’t pressing against her hip. “It’s not my drool. Admit it, or I’ll make you regret it.” He growled at her, teasing menace in his voice.

She quirked an eyebrow. “How will you do that?”

“I’ll tickle you.”

She smirked. “I’m not ticklish.”

“That figures. Then I guess I’ll just have to kiss that smirk off your face.”

Before she could respond his mouth was on hers, kissing her into oblivion. It was a sort of payback for last night. For her getting so drunk he didn’t dare try anything with her, and then climbing on top of him and passing out, leaving him helpless against her softness while he tried in vain to sleep under her. Retribution was his.

Her mouth was so soft and warm, and when she whimpered, something inside him responded hungrily. Suddenly, his hands were all over her, feeling, exploring her softness. The thin cotton of her tee shirt was a sensual barrier between them. He could feel her aroused nipples pressing against his chest as she arched into his kiss.

He plunged his tongue into her mouth, thrusting and sweeping. He could taste her sleepiness, but her sleepiness quickly turned to enthusiasm, as she wrapped her arms around his neck to draw him closer.

A loud knock at the door downstairs interrupted them. Max pulled away with a groan and reached for his jeans on the floor, turning away to put them on to hide his raging hard on. He turned to see her walking out her bedroom door in her pajamas. Was she really going to answer the door wearing boxer shorts and a tee shirt? He hurried to follow her down the stairs.

When she opened the door, he saw those two guys from the mega-hardware store, and he stepped in front of Claire. He knew it would piss her off, but he didn’t want them to see her like this.

“How can I help you?” He asked warily.

“Uh…we were dropping off a floor sander for Miss Dunlap.”

“I can get it from here. Thanks guys. Is there anything to sign?” Max reached for the sander.

“No sir. Thank you.” They turned to leave, as Max hauled the sander inside. When he turned around, he saw Claire standing with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot. That spark was in her eyes again, and Max stifled his grin.

“What was that, Max?” Her voice was tight.

“The delivery guys with your sander.”

“Not that. What was all that…standing in front of me business?”

He looked at her, waving his hand up and down at her appearance. “You’re wearing your pajamas, Claire.”

“So?”

“So, you don’t have a bra on, for Christ’s sake, and that tee shirt is completely see-through, showing off your astounding tits to the entire neighborhood.”

“Max! This is my house! This is my delivery! This is my damn neighborhood! If I want to answer the house in the nude, I will do it. I will do what I want to in my own house!” She was yelling at him, and as much as he liked it, he knew he needed to tread carefully.

“You don’t know those guys, Claire. I’m telling you, they’re bad news. I really wish you would listen to me on this.”

“You are not the boss of me, Max.” His eyebrows rose at the childishness of her epithet, and he tried not to look amused.

“Look, I know you are mad at me. But there is no way I’m going to stand inside
your
house and let those guys see you like that.”

“Go home, Max.”

Well, he saw this coming. For some reason, they couldn’t spend fifteen minutes together without fighting. Her usual response was to make him leave. He wasn’t going to argue. He started towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?”

“To get my boots.” He raised his eyebrows in question. “Mother, may I?”

“Yes. Go get your boots, and then get out.”

When he returned with his boots, pulling his shirt over his head, she was still standing by the door waiting for him to leave. He walked up to her, grabbed her shoulders, and swept a chaste kiss across her lips before flashing her a mischievous grin. “See you in a little while, Claire.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll be back.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s complicated.” He winked and was out the door.

C
laire sat at her kitchen table wondering what in the hell had gotten into her with Max this morning. She wasn’t hung-over, which she should have been, judging by the amount of Brandy missing from her emergency bottle. But his nerve at insinuating that she couldn’t answer her own door in her pajamas was so arrogant she couldn’t stop her temper from flaring.

She admitted to herself that she was pushing him away. It would be easier to leave that way. Claire still hadn’t told Max she’d decided to leave, and felt badly about it.

Claire was finishing up her cup of coffee when she heard noises outside. Going to investigate, she found Max with a tape measure and a notepad, pencil behind his ear.

“What are you doing?”

“Starting your exterior. Well, I’m just making notes for now, but I’ve got to make notes to draw up a bid for you.”

“Bid? I thought we were going to make some sort of deal?”

He nodded, all business, and Claire felt another spurt of irritation building. Did they cross some sort of line last night that she wasn’t aware of? Why was he taking charge like this?

“We are, but I need to have a bid anyway. It’s how I do things. I’ll draw up a bid for what it should cost, and we’ll agree on a payment method.” His smirk said it all, and Claire was suddenly livid.

“Payment method? I told you I could pay you some money.”

“Yes, and you offered to trade the rest. The bid is to keep things fair.”

“What do you want for trade?”

His gaze lingered on her lips before snapping up to her eyes, which she squinted at him.

“Well, there’s always the obvious, but I’m not sure you’d go for that.” Her hands sprung to her hips in indignation before she realized he was teasing. She relaxed a little. “I’ve got some stuff in my shed that I haven’t been able to get to yet, furniture and things. I thought maybe you might want to take a crack at refinishing some furniture, build up your portfolio or something like that. My flowerbeds could use some attention, too, if you’re so inclined.” He cocked his head and looked at her, eyes glinting mischievously. He knew he’d gotten her.