“Take your time.”
Gigi quickly retreated into her bedroom. In her closet, she found a suitcase large enough to fit all her books and the clothes she was going to take with her. She had everything packed in less than twenty minutes, but spent the better part of ten trying to close it. She had sworn at the damn thing more times than she could count.
“Is everything all right in there?” Max asked through the door.
Her head jerked in the direction of his voice. She didn’t want him to come in her room. It was embarrassing enough that she was such a nerd, but if he saw her room, he would never see her as anything more. She had post-it notes stuck everywhere with little titbits of information meant to help her to recall the larger piece of text they’d come from. Add to that the myriad of books, notebooks and loose leaves of paper; she was a geek’s wet dream.
“Don’t come in here!” she yelled.
There was a pause. “Excuse me?” His tone was hard, like he wasn’t told ‘no’ very often. He probably wasn’t.
“I mean, I’ll be right out. I’m… I’m naked.”
“Naked?” he replied, the hardness in his voice replaced with something that made her skin heat.
“I’m getting changed,” she tacked on weakly. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Now that she’d said as much, Gigi found her yoga pants and a t-shirt to change into. She pulled on her runners and tried zipping up the damn suitcase again. This time, the teeth on the zip slid together perfectly. Tugging on the handle, the weight inside caused the case to crash to the floor.
“Gigi?” he called again. “What’s going on?”
“I’m coming out now,” she replied, gritting her teeth as she tugged on the handle to get it moving. When she stepped into the living room, Max’s expression stole her breath.
15
Max’s eyes slid down Gigi’s body, drinking in the way her yoga pants were clinging to her hips. The shirt she was wearing hugged her curves, drawing his attention to how narrow her waist was. She had the perfect hourglass figure, and it was just one more thing that set her apart from Chelsea.
When he’d heard the crash from behind her bedroom door, he had sat Erin on the floor and knocked, wondering if he could help in some way. But when Gigi had said she was naked, his cock had paid a little too much attention to the words, his brain following up with an image. He had no idea whether it was accurate, but now that he saw her, he knew he hadn’t been too far off.
The woman was testing his resolve, and she didn’t even know it.
All his life, women had been throwing themselves at him, beginning when he started playing JV football at school. When he’d secured the star quarterback position, trying to get a girl to suck his cock had been too easy. His friends told him he was the luckiest sonofabitch out, but he had to disagree. Having women come onto him all the time got real boring, real quick.
Even as they’d walked to Gigi’s apartment, he saw every set of female eyes on him. He’d kept his expression pissed off, deterring any of them from approaching him, although he could tell more than one had wanted to. Of course, Gigi had noticed. She’d questioned him about it. He’d denied it, but he could tell she wanted to call bullshit on him.
But Gigi was different. Right from the start, she hadn’t tried any lines on him, hadn’t attempted to touch him ‘accidently’, and when he caught her staring at him while he’d been changing that morning, he had enjoyed her attention.
“—Max?”
His eyes snapped back to her face. “What?”
She looked down at what she was wearing for a moment. “Should I change?” she asked, suddenly unsure.
Fuck, no. He was enjoying her curves too much. “No. You look fine. Let’s go.” He reached for the handle of the suitcase, pulling it free of her grip and stopping any protests with a shake of his head. “Can you get Erin strapped in and push the stroller?”
She bit her bottom lip, and he turned around so she wouldn’t see the erection tenting his pants. Sweats were a bad choice. He opened the door, but stopped when she said, “Let me leave Jen a note reminding her where I am.”
Five minutes later they were out on the sidewalk again. Jen and Gigi’s apartment wasn’t in the heart of NYU student housing; it was about five blocks away from what he could tell, reducing the number of students walking around.
“How’d you get this place?” he asked as they waited to cross the road.
“Jen’s parents know someone who owns the building.”
“Rent must be a killer for university students,” he commented absently.
“It’s heavily subsidized.”
He studied Gigi’s face as they waited for the lights to change. Her long red hair looked like it was as smooth as silk, falling in a straight sheet down to the middle of her back. The color was nothing that could be replicated from a bottle. Her neck was delicate, leading his eye to her jaw. She had high cheekbones, which made her seem regal, although he was sure she saw herself as anything but. Her lashes were a shade darker than her hair, framing the most striking set of green eyes.
“Borello,” he murmured. “That’s an Italian name.”
She turned to him. “It is. My father is Italian. My mother is Irish.”
“Huh. That explains the red hair then.”
She pushed some of that hair back behind her ear, but didn’t respond. Max looked away, realizing his mistake. She now knew he’d been looking at her, had been studying her.
“What about you?” she asked.
“What about me?”
Gigi’s green eyes boldly met his. “Your family, your background.” She paused. “You already know a lot about me, Max. I hardly know a thing about you.”
She was right, of course, but that was the way he wanted to keep it—at least, he thought he had until he started talking. “My family can trace its lineage right back to the Mayflower,” he started. “My great, great, great grandfather started his own pen company back in eighteen eighty-eight, in Wisconsin. That’s still where all my family is, except for my father. He was the black sheep of the family and left for Seattle when he was eighteen.”
“A pen company?” she asked. He nodded. “As in, ‘Parker Pens’?”
He nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “Why did your father go to Seattle?”
“A woman, would you believe… My mom.”
Her smile lit up her whole face. “That’s so romantic.”
Yeah, Max had thought that too. When he was growing up, that was all he wanted. He wanted to find his soul mate and get married, have kids, grow old together…until his parents told him they were getting a divorce. He was eighteen years old and the illusion of finding his ‘perfect match’ had been shattered. He could have believed in it again if it wasn’t for Chelsea. She had ground the shattered pieces of his fantasy under the heel of her stiletto and laughed.
“Are they still married?”
“No.” The word was heavy…sad, almost. “They got divorced about eight years ago.”
“I’m so sorry, Max.”
He looked at her. “You want to know what the funny thing is? They’re still really close. They have a better relationship now than when they were married.”
His revelation made her smile, and he realized he liked being the one to make her do it. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Three brothers—triplets if you can believe it.”
“Wow. I couldn’t imagine having triplet brothers,” she uttered. “It was just little old me growing up, so I find it hard to picture there being someone else to share a bathroom with.”
His lips flexed into a smile remembering what it was like growing up with his older brothers.
Being the youngest, he was often picked on and made fun of. That lasted until he was about sixteen. Max had started hitting the gym that year. He had bulked up so he was actually the same size—if not slightly bigger—than his brothers and he was able to stick up fo
r himself. After that, they’d left him alone.
“You’re an only child, right?” he asked.
“Yeah. It was just me and my parents.”
“Are they still together?”
She nodded. “Happily married for twenty-nine years this year.”
He wanted to ask her more about her thoughts on marriage and family, but held his tongue. He knew she didn’t have a boyfriend, and that was just the way he wanted to keep it.
“Do you think you’ll remarry?”
Her question startled him. If she’d asked him that three months ago, he would have told her hell no, but was that what he still wanted? “I’m not sure.”
“What about kids? Would you want to have more?”
Max looked down at Erin being pushed in the stroller. She deserved to have a little brother or sister—maybe even more than one. He had always wanted to have four kids. “Maybe. If I met the right girl,” he replied, watching Gig’s expression carefully.
She bit her lip and he had to fight the urge to kiss her. “What would make the right girl?” she asked quietly.
He came to a stop at a red light. The perfect girl was standing right in front of him. “Physically she could have any color hair or eyes. I find the personality and the values of a person are much more important.”
Her head bobbed up and down in agreement, her eyes on the passing traffic. “I don’t think a person’s appearance counts for a whole lot.” She looked at him. “Compatibility is far more important.”
“I know what you mean,” he said softly, staring at her intently. With the sun beating down on them, Max could see the tiny sprinkling of freckles on her nose. Gigi’s cheeks flushed with color under his close scrutiny and she looked away, clearing her throat.
“So, how many kids would you want to have?” he asked as they crossed the road together.
“A lot…four, maybe.”
“Why?”
“I was an only child. Sometimes I got kind of lonely when I was growing up. I wouldn’t want my kids to experience that.”
Christ, could this woman get any more perfect?
“What about you?” she asked. Her eyes lingered on his mouth for a moment before she looked away. Brushing some hair behind her ear, she added, “You know, just for argument’s sake.”
Max stepped a little closer to her, trying to avoid being knocked down by a motorized scooter. He heard her breath catch in her throat at his proximity, and it made him smile. “Same.”
Her eyes widened. “Four?”
“Always wanted to have four,” he replied with a shrug.
They kept talking in the same way until they reached his apartment, the time passing too quickly. Max found that he didn’t want it to end. They had a connection and there was so much more to Gigi than he thought. Just as they closed the apartment door behind them, his cell rang. Pulling it from his pocket, he pinned it between his shoulder and ear to lift Gigi’s bag onto the single bed in what would be her room.
“Hello?”
“Max, honey?”
“Oh, hi, Mom.” He walked into his bedroom. “How’s Dad doing?”
“Better. Much better. He’s actually starting to make jokes again.”
He smiled. “Well, then, I know he’s getting better.”
“How’s New York? How’s the new club?”
He toed off his shoes. “Everything is going great.”
“And how is my granddaughter?”
“She’s also great.”
“I’m planning on visiting as soon as your father has been discharged and is settled at home,” she told him. “How’s the nanny working out? Has she started yet?”
“She looked after Erin last night while I had the club opening, and she’s moving in today, actually.”
“That’s great news.” There was a muffled sound before she came back onto the line. “I have to go, Max. Your father is asking for me. All my love to you and Erin. Hopefully it won’t be too long until I see you both again.”
“Say hi to Dad for me,” he said. “Love you.”
He hung up and left his bedroom. Gigi had Erin out of the stroller and was playing with her on her bed. Watching Gigi and his daughter together made him like her that little bit more. She was great with kids whether she thought so or not, and Max knew she’d make a great mom someday.
“Hey, I need to crash out for a while before work. There’s an empty drawer in the bathroom vanity for you already. Help yourself to whatever you want, and make yourself at home.” Max yawned, exhaustion not just creeping up on him, but taking him hostage.
“Get some rest, Max,” she told him.
“Are you all right with Erin?”
She looked at the little girl and smiled. “We’ll be just fine.”
16
Tell me everything, Borello. Leave no detail out.
Gigi looked at her phone when it lit up, showing her the text from Jen. She’d obviously gotten the note. Instead of texting back and forth a million times as she knew they would, she just hit the call button and put the phone on speaker. She got up to close the door before the call could connect, though; Erin had just gone down for her nap and Max had been out for about two hours already.
“I can’t believe you just left me a note,” Jen said in lieu of a greeting.
“Hello to you, too,” Gigi shot back, putting her phone on the tallboy while she filled its drawers with her underwear and shirts.
“Seriously? That’s what you say to me? You’ve moved in with him!”
“Yes, as his nanny,” she said. “I’m just his nanny, Jen.”
Her roommate laughed. “It always starts out that way, but I can guarantee he’ll be in your pants before too long.”
Gigi didn’t want to admit it to anyone else but herself, but she did want Max to get into her pants, and anywhere else he wanted to go. The talk they’d had on the way back from her place had been so revealing. He may not have realized it, but he had exposed so much of himself to her. She loved hearing about his family and how he grew up. They’d lightly touched on his wife, and he’d skimmed over the details, as she knew he would, but everything else had been great.
“How long will you be living there? I mean, should I get your mail redirected?”
“No! I won’t be here that long—only for two weeks.”
“Why only two weeks?”
“That’s how long I said I’d work for him,” she replied. “The successful applicants for the internship will be announced shortly after that. Don’t worry about the rent. I’ll still pay my share.”
“I wasn’t worried, but now that you mention money, how much is Max paying you?” Jen asked. Gigi paused as she placed a shirt in the drawer. They’d briefly touched on the issue of pay, but what she’d demanded was ridiculously absurd. There was no way he’d willingly pay her two thousand a week.
“We haven’t discussed an exact figure yet.”
“He’d better pay you well. If he doesn’t, demand that he does.”
Gigi made a noise that was neither agreeing nor disagreeing with what Jen had said. “How was the gym?” she asked, to change the subject.
Jen heaved a heavy yet very satisfied sigh. “Amazing.”
“I take it you’re talking about Jeremy when you say that.”
“He is amazing,” she gushed. “He has a banging body. I just wish he wasn’t off-limits.”
“Wait. What?”
“Jeremy is off-limits.”
“Who told you that?”
In the background, there was the sound of the pipes knocking together. Jen must have been getting ready to take a shower. “He did.”
“And you’re going to toe the line and not do anything with him?” Gigi asked incredulously.
“Hey! Why is that so hard to believe?”
“It’s just the Jen I know wouldn’t let a silly little rule stand in her way.”
She snorted. “You’re right about that, but this is different. I like him, so I’ll play by the rules…
for a little while longer anyway.”
Gigi laughed. “Now there’s the Jen I know and love.”
“Speaking of love, I have to love you and leave you. I have a hair appointment in twenty. Talk to you later, and remember to always use protection!”
“We’re not having sex!” she yelled into the phone, but it was too late. Jen had already hung up.
“Who’s not having sex?”
Gigi spun around and faced Max who was standing in the doorway. Her cheeks instantly stained with color. Crap. “Sorry. Nobody. That was just Jen being Jen.” She cringed and closed the drawer at her back. “Sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t,” he replied. “My stomach did. I was going to make some lunch. You interested?”
“Lunch would be good,” she replied, following him out of her room. She looked at his now jean- clad ass as he walked and let out a breathy sigh.
In the kitchen, she was instructed to sit at the bench while Max threw together a Spanish omelette for them to share. She watched him chop the potato and onion, and was not afraid to say she was impressed. As he worked, she thought it would be a good chance to talk about her pay.
“Max, we need to discuss something.” Her statement drew his attention immediately. He looked at her from under his lashes, the knife in his hand stilling. She exhaled and said, “We need to talk about how much you’re going to pay me.”
“I thought we’d already decided on a figure.”
“We did, I guess, but…”
“But?” he prompted, his attention returning to the peppers he was now cutting up.
“Two thousand a week seems like too much.”
“I don’t share your point of view,” he replied, not bothering to meet her eyes.
“Max,” she said, reaching out to touch his hand that held the pepper firmly on the board. His brown eyes flipped to hers, and she felt a jolt of electricity flow between them. He put down the knife, wiped his hands on a towel and planted his palms on the stone bench. Not once did his eyes move from hers.
Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection Page 137