Redheaded Redemption (Redheads Book 2)

by Rebecca Royce

  When I spoke, the best I could manage was a small voice. “Okay, Max. Sounds good.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. We’re not here yet.” He tugged me to him. “I can’t do one-night stands most of the time, and I’m feeling like you can’t, either.”

  “What?” Oh fuck. I’d somehow screwed it up. “I mean…you’re right—I don’t. But I want to. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I don’t.”

  He scooted next to me, tugging me to his side. “I scared you. Casual sex is great for some people, and I’m glad for them. But I think for me, there has to be something else. There has to be the connection that says you know the other person, their limits, and that you know that they know you. We could have pushed through anyway, but why bother? At the end of the day, neither of us would have gotten what we needed tonight.”

  I wanted to cry, but I managed not to. He was right, and he didn’t even know how much so. I wasn’t doing this just because I wanted him. I needed to prove something, and maybe I wasn’t…able to do it. He’d just wanted to take off my dress, yet panic had started to set in.

  I picked up my dress from where he’d flung it. “I’ll go home.”

  “Only if you want to.” He turned my face by touching my chin until I looked at him. “I’d still like you to stay here tonight. I like having you in my space.” His smirk was fast. “I can’t believe I feel that way, but I do. Let’s…spend some time together.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Like…friends?”

  “Like friends who are half naked in a bed together. Hope, we may very well end up in bed together another time, just not tonight.”

  Oh, I doubted that very much, but it was late, and I didn’t really want to go crawling back out to my car where they were sure to know something was wrong. I hated that I even worried about it, but my life had always been about hiding the truth from prying eyes.

  “What kind of television do you watch in bed?”

  He kissed my cheek. “Whatever you want. As you know, I almost never sleep.”

  Yet another thing we had in common.

  Chapter 6

  It should have been awkward to lie in his bed and watch late night nothingness on television, but it wasn’t. Actually, it was kind of nice. I was usually alone in bed, staring at the ceiling or zoning out on the TV in the hopes that I might eventually turn off my brain and go to bed. At least here, I had company. Max was actually very nice, which only made the fact that I’d basically screwed up his life even worse. Not that I should feel better about it if he were a monster, but still. These were the sorts of thoughts that raced through my mind as we stared at someone demonstrating a product that promised to cook ribs in five minutes flat.

  He shook his head. “Where is the fun in that?”

  I could see why he’d think so, but others might not. “Maybe there’s a mother of five out there just trying to get it done. Cooking the ribs in five minutes flat could really help her.”

  Max nodded slowly. “Sure. I can see how that would help. Only I bet that tastes like hell, and they’re zapping all the nutrition right out of it.”

  He ran his finger up my arm once, then again. And then again. I loved the feeling. He didn’t seem to be doing it consciously. His eyes and attention were glued to the screen. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he leaned the side of his on top of mine. It was intimate in a way that I didn’t think sex would have been.

  Maybe tonight wasn’t a total wash for me getting over things.

  Do people ever really get over things?

  There I was with my thoughts again.

  “Why don’t you sleep well? Or much?” I watched his fingers move on my arm instead of the television. It was somewhat hypnotizing. I really shouldn’t have asked the question because he was going to ask me why too, and I didn’t really want to tell him.

  He sighed. “Combat has that effect on people sometimes. It’s better than it used to be. The years pass, and with lots of help, I am better at managing it. I still don’t sleep a lot, but that’s okay. I function well enough. I seem to be healthy. I exercise. Things could be worse. I’m lying in my bed with a beautiful insomniac right now.”

  My cheeks immediately heated up, and since we’d positioned ourselves the way we were, I couldn’t look up and see if he were laughing at me. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  He thought I was beautiful. It wasn’t that I hadn’t heard the words before. I had, and over the years, I’d come to actually hate it. Was it because I was considered so physically attractive that I’d been left open to just be…? Nope, I wasn’t going there. I’d Scarlett O’Hara syndrome it—I’d think about it tomorrow. One of my nannies loved that movie.

  Max saying I was beautiful felt different. It actually moved through me like it was something I should want. It was flattering. Yet, I still gave my answer the way I always did. “My mother was spectacularly pretty. She passed off a little bit to us, but you know what they say?”

  He was quiet, but when he answered, it was with amusement in his voice. “No, Hope. What do they say?”

  “Beauty and folly are old companions.” I said the line and was comfortable with the idea that the conversation would move past my looks. No one really knew exactly what to say when flattered, right?

  “And she quotes Benjamin Franklin.”

  Well, that is unusual. I shifted my head, separating us, and we both looked at each other instead of leaning on each other. “You know who said that.”

  “I do. I went to school.” He winked at me. “And I’m not a guy who reads fiction. I like to read biographies and autobiographies. Anything about history.” He took a strand of my hair in his hand. “Is that your way of telling me that you don’t like to be complimented about how you look?”

  I sighed. “I don’t really know what to do with it. I get all this attention for how I look, but when I stare at myself, what I see is that parts of me look like my mom, parts of me resemble my siblings. My brown eyes are all my father. And…” I sighed. “I’m afraid, if this is all I am, then soon I will be nothing at all.”

  He furrowed his brow as I spoke and then eventually nodded. “Maybe it’s what first strikes people about you, but it isn’t what I think of when I think about you anymore. I mean, sure, I do think about what you look like. I’m crazy attracted to you, sometimes despite myself. But I keep thinking of how you managed to clear all that fruit from customs.” He grinned at me. “It was insanity.”

  “So what you’re saying is it starts with the pretty, but people stick around for the way I am absolutely out of my mind?”

  He touched the end of my nose. “Totally that.”

  Somehow, what he said seemed about right. We ended up lying back down, but this time, I pressed up to his chest. His heartbeat was steady and strong against my ear.

  Time passed slowly, as it always did at night. Max tangled his hand up in my hair, rubbing the back of my scalp gently. “Why don’t you sleep?”

  There was the question. He hadn’t been put off, just delayed. Or maybe he’d been giving me time to think about it, knowing the query would be coming. I didn’t know him well enough to have that answer.

  “Would it be okay if I didn’t say? There are lots of answers, and all of them are…distasteful.”

  He nodded. “We’re all entitled to our secrets. It’s one of the few things that belong just to us. Yes, you don’t have to tell me.” He kissed my forehead. “Friends respect each other’s boundaries. Or at least we do sometimes. I don’t always, but I will this time.”

  The thing about talking when I should have been sleeping was at some point, my mind wanted to shut off, even if it couldn’t. I could get weird, rambling, and not even know what I was saying half the time. Like I was asleep and talking…but not, because I was actually awake.

  I’d learned over the years to just shut down when that happened, so I didn’t say things I would later regret. I snuggled down against him, and he shut off the
light, leaving the room dark except for the flashing of the television. He changed the channel twice, finally landing on a black and white movie that featured a man on a horse. I didn’t know what it was and I supposed I could ask, but my brain didn’t want to work anymore.

  If I were this shut down, why couldn’t I sleep? It was so…frustrating. His breathing evened out, and I looked over to see he’d shut his eyes. That was good. I was glad that Max could actually get some sleep. I stared at the screen some more, trying and failing to make sense of the movie. Finally, I picked up his remote and turned it off. He didn’t budge, which was good because sometimes, the sudden onset of silence registered as loud and disturbing to me.

  I stared into the darkness. It was nice not to be alone. His breathing was even, not disturbing, and he didn’t move around or jar me in any way. I’d never shared a bed like this. The hours passed, slowly. Some nights were fast, but this wasn’t one of them.

  Eventually, I lulled into being able to sleep, sort of. It was a funny kind of a thing on nights like this. I could sleep, but I was conscious of doing it, so it didn’t make me feel particularly rested. I drifted on a boat, but it was like I’d put myself there. I could stop at any time. It wasn’t fun, and I almost wished I hadn’t done it at all. But the not dream continued, so I hoped it would transfer into actual sleep.

  His alarm went off, interrupting my pseudo sleeping, and I lifted my head as he rolled over to turn it off. “Sorry.” He sort of grunted as he spoke. “I should have told you. I always get up early.”

  I rubbed my eyes, trying to smile. Not sleeping was hard but it wasn’t his fault, and I needed to not act like a psycho grump woman he’d rather not see again. I liked being friends with him, even if it didn’t end in the sex I’d wanted. If anything, he was really upstanding to not push it when I was clearly not ready. “That’s okay. I have things to do.”

  He tugged on the end of my hair until I looked at him. “You okay? Did I keep you up? I didn’t mean to fall asleep without you. Guess you are warm and soothing, Hope.”

  I shook my head, trying to stifle a yawn. “No one has ever called me that. Just give me one second to pull myself together, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

  He sat up, pulling me against him. “Are you under the impression that I’m kicking you out? Eat breakfast with me and come to the gym. We can say goodbye later.”

  Now he had my full attention. Well, the best I could give it before I’d caffeinated through this haze of a morning that I could already tell was going to be one of those days. “I don’t have anything to wear to workout. I’m going to exit this apartment in the dress I wore here. It is a great dress, but not conducive to the gym.”

  He laughed as he got out of bed. For all that he didn’t sleep very much, he woke up in a much better mood than me. That could be an aggravating quality, and maybe the first thing about Max that I wasn’t sure I could get behind. Of course, it might also be because my middle name might as well be grumpy this morning. Hope Grumpy Radford.

  “Okay. We’ll go back to your place, grab you some clothes, then go to the gym. All of that, though, after we eat.” He was already halfway out of the room when he said the last bit.

  “You’re big on this gym thing, aren’t you?”

  “Oh,” he called back to me. “You must go to the gym, Hope.”

  I managed to pull myself out of the bed and put on my dress, which looked a lot less pretty this morning. I did go to the gym. I hated every second, but I did it. I couldn’t love food as much as I did, wear the clothes I needed to be seen in, and not do some kind of exercise, but I hated it. Despised the gym like I was being forced to participate in torture every week.

  Layla loved to run, and as much as I couldn’t get over all the hugely positive changes that happened to her since she got together with Zeke, running was not one I could understand.

  The smell of coffee wafted into the room, and it made me move a little bit faster. I didn’t know that I was up for a whole big meal, and I really wasn’t sure on the gym thing. I might just tell him a resounding no. But I’d take the coffee. I’d never say no to that.

  He stood at the stove, and as I entered the room, a second smell overtook the coffee. He was making eggs. I loved eggs. My stomach rumbled. Maybe I’d have to reconsider the not eating bit. Max stepped away from the pan, giving me a view of his backside.

  There was no doubt he was a beautiful man, probably at least in part because he hated the gym less than me, since it was part of his morning routine.

  “Cream?” he asked over his shoulder. “Milk? Sugar? Sweet and low?”

  I’d spent the night in his bed, but neither of us knew even the most basic things about each other, not even the way we took our coffees. For some people, that might be normal, but for me it just felt…weird.

  “Just cream.” I didn’t like the way sugar tasted in my coffee. If there was the smallest amount of bitterness, I actually preferred it.

  He nodded, taking a container out of the fridge before he poured some in a cup he then passed to me. Max’s every movement seemed fraught with purpose. He didn’t squirm, didn’t seem to make a move unless he had to, almost like he was a dancer on a stage instead of a man in the kitchen.

  I shook my head. He was only making coffee. My mind on no sleep was not a pretty place to exist. I sipped the coffee. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He lifted his gaze. “I’m making eggs I think you’ll like. If you don’t, I can make them a different way the next time we eat breakfast together.”

  I took a seat at the counter across from where he was cooking. “Are we going to do this again?”

  He smirked as he stared down at the eggs, touching them for one second with his spatula. “I think we both know that we’re going to be doing this again. Last night wasn’t the end of something, it was the beginning.”

  Max turned off the eggs and poured something on them before he put the fire back on. It was a white substance. “What’s that?”

  He lifted his eyebrows but didn’t look up at me, instead stirring the eggs with his spatula. “A sauce I’ve perfected over the years.”

  “What’s in it?”

  He smirked. It was adorable. How did men do that? If I smirked, they’d call me bitchy. Well, I knew how they did it, but I was too tired to deal with all those reasons at the moment. I needed more sleep to smash the patriarchy.

  He said, “I’ll never reveal my secrets.”

  “When did you make sauce? You’ve been out here for two minutes.”

  He turned his back to put the container back in the fridge. “I make a lot of stuff on Sundays. Some for the restaurant, some for my personal use. I store it in the fridge if I don’t bring it in to work. It’s my prep day. Helps me feel very…prepared. I always have my favorite sauce on hand.”

  “And you’re not going to tell me what’s in it?” My mouth already salivated.

  He turned off the stove top and spooned the eggs onto two plates, passing me one before he got out a fork for both of us. “Try that. I’m going to make some toast too.”

  I took a bite and then closed my eyes. The moan that I released wasn’t purposeful, it just happened. “Wow, that is good.”

  When I opened my eyes, he grinned at me. “It never gets old. When people like what I cook? It never ceases to be the best part of any day.”

  “What did you put on these? Plus, they’re so light and airy!”

  As we spoke, he moved about the kitchen, taking bites of his own eggs, toasting the bread, and pouring more coffee. He never seemed to have to look at anything as he did it, as if he knew exactly where everything was without needing to check. The whole thing was impressive and ridiculously sexy. “Thank you on the eggs, and the sauce is my version of what they’d call a Greek bechamel.”

  I’d never heard of it. “How is yours different from a traditional Greek version?”

  He leaned onto the counter, smirking at me. “That is my secret.”

  I sipp
ed my coffee, suddenly feeling full and happy. Good food did that to me. There was a euphoria to eating like this. “Thank you for breakfast.”

  Max leaned farther toward me and stole a kiss. “You’re welcome. Finish your coffee.”

  I took a long drink of it. I never left coffee unfinished.

  We rode together to my apartment in my car. Max leaned back and stared at the front seat, where my security had shut themselves behind a barrier and couldn’t hear us. Or so they said. Maybe I read too many spy novels. I doubted everything these days.

  “So they just follow you around and drive you where you want to go?” He pointed at the front seat. “These two?”

  I yawned. “Mostly them, but obviously no one can be with me all of the time. They trade out with two other people, but I know them the best. They are my most constant guards.”

  “What does having that kind of security cost, just out of curiosity? I know someone who does this for a living. He works for a security firm. We served together. I know he’s earning a fortune doing it, and honestly, it’s perfect for his personality. Good fit for him as a job.”

  I shook my head. “That’s a good question. My brother-in-law pays for security for all of us. My sister Bridget, his wife, Layla, and myself. He would cover Justin too, but he’s in Russia with my father.” Thinking of him made me check my phone. Nothing from Justin. Why had he reached out if he didn’t want to start a dialogue? Why send me that one thing and nothing else? “Zeke is very generous with us. I’m not sure…” Well, truthfully, he was someone else I didn’t know how to pay back. These sorts of problems were adding up in my life.

  Max shifted in his seat. “What kind of danger does he think you’re in? Like you could get stolen off the street or gunned down in the car? Or they just want to drive you crazy until your father does whatever it is he has to do?”

  “They pulled my sister off the street and kept her for several days until Michael Li, who runs our security, got her back. I guess they feel the same could happen to me.” I rubbed my face. I hated talking about all of it. “They’re working on putting a stop to this and then the security can stop. I’m grateful for the help.”