A Hot Mess

by Brandi Evans

  "He, no doubt, punished her once he found out, and considering the man killed her and tried to kill you, I can't imagine his type of punishment fell into the realm of consensual Dom/sub play. And she snapped. She sent the info to the media to get back at the person she blamed. Me."

  "I can buy that, and I can totally buy that Théo was probably an abusive asshole. I just don't understand why he killed her. She was the designer. Without her, what does he have?"

  "The rights to every share of the company she owned. He'd be the sole recipient of every penny from the launch of Giselle's newest line of bedroom and evening wear, which is set to launch next week. They were set to make millions, even without me releasing my portion of the company—except then Giselle leaked your past to the media, and I had my lawyers draw up papers to dissolve the company."

  "And if you were embroiled in a murder investigation against Dubois Fashions' lead designer after trying to dissolve her company, then all your assets in the company would likely become frozen and entangled in the investigation."

  "And Giselle's poor, heartbroken lover is left to benefit from all the publicity. You know what they say. There's no such thing as bad press."

  Calling Théo Roux a monster was an insult to monsters. "I shouldn't have stopped choking him until his heart stopped beating. Assuming he actually has a heart."

  "No." Index finger to my chin, Max turned my face toward him and pressed his lips to mine. "I know what a killer looks like, and you, my sweet, are no killer."

  Before I could respond, a knock sounded against my hospital door as it opened, and a man and woman I'd know anywhere stepped into my room.

  Recognition made me smile. The man was Max's evil twin. At least that was what I'd called the pair since that night. The man was dark, dangerous, and sporting tattoo sleeves that disappeared beneath his gray t-shirt. His raven-black hair had been tied at his nape, accentuating rich, chocolate-brown eyes.

  The woman beside him was the yin to his yang. Seeing her always made me think of 1950s screen goddesses. Blonde hair hung in loose curls over bare shoulders. A light purple cotton off-the-shoulder top dress clung to her curves. The outfit was casual, perfect for travel, but her classic beauty elevated it about twelve levels. If I didn't love her so much, I'd be incredibly jealous.

  Max pushed to his feet, surprise etched in his features. "Garrett, Karen, what are you doing here?"

  "We came as soon as we heard," Karen answered as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. When she reached the bed, she took my hand and pulled it to her chest. "We were positively terrified, and I'm pissed you didn't call us, Maxwell Penn!"

  "And that's putting it mildly," Garrett said, "and we will have words about it soon." Garrett's expression softened as he turned to me and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. "How are you holding up, love?"

  "Honestly," I began, "I'm still trying to get a handle on that, but I'm so glad to see you both."

  And I very much was.

  "We're not going anywhere, darling. Nowhere at all." Karen kissed the back of my hand. "Garrett and I have both cleared our schedules for the next week, but we're here for as long as you both need. Anything at all, we're here."

  I wanted to cry. My sweet, strange little family together in the same room. I hated that Théo's attack had been the catalyst to bring us together again, but seeing them made everything almost worth it.

  I cuddled deeper into my lover's embrace, Tabby content in the crook of my right leg. Max's oversized king bed was so much more comfortable than my hospital bed. Plus, it had the added benefit of being able to comfortably fit us both—Karen and Garrett, too, before they'd returned home to Britain. Before they'd left, they'd made us promise to come for a visit as soon as I was able. I'd quickly agreed. I missed them already!

  I'd been out of the hospital over a week now and was pleasantly surprised by the number of visitors I'd had. Chad and Aimée, of course, had stopped by. Even Viv and Brock had stopped by for a visit. My mom had ended up staying for almost two weeks before she'd made the return trip home, but only after Max had assured her, repeatedly, I'd be in excellent hands.

  The man himself hadn't been back to the office since my attack. He'd worked entirely from home—more precisely, he'd worked pretty much at my bedside. He'd turned his pleasantly distressed-looking end tables and dresser into makeshift work stations. He'd taken complete and total care of me, even though, after I'd been released from the hospital, I hadn't needed such around-the-clock assistance. Despite the fact I didn't need him to wait on me, he couldn't be pried away. The only exception had been a forty-minute trip into town the day before.

  I was adjusting to life with my new one-kidney status, and I had to admit, I couldn't tell much difference. So far anyway. The doctors had assured me the one kidney I had left was more than capable of keeping me healthy, especially if I took good care of myself. The worst part of my recovery process was the fact Théo was still on the loose. Max had surmised the man must have had some sort of exit strategy in place in case things went sideways, and given the extent of the other man's resources, I didn't doubt that, and it fucking terrified me.

  I had been having nightmares about Théo coming back to finish the job he'd started, and even with the increased security patrolling the perimeters and the alarms on the doors that were set twenty-four/seven, I was still scared, and I was afraid I always would be. Even if he was caught.

  When, that little voice inside corrected. Yes, when he was caught.

  The bedroom door whispered open, and Tricia bustled in carrying a tray of food. "Hello, dearie," she said in her usually cheerful voice. "How're you feeling this morning?"

  "Oh, not too bad," I answered.

  "Good, good." She held out the tray of food. "I made you a little something special for breakfast this morning. Multi-grain pancakes with mounds of fresh fruit. Now, I know how dedicated you are to eating healthy, but I brought syrup anyway because, sometimes, a girl just needs sugar."

  I chuckled. God, I loved this woman.

  "You know, you didn't have to do this," I said as I pushed into a better position so she could place the tray over me. "Everything looks so wonderful."

  She hadn't exaggerated the mounds of fresh fruit. I'd be eating just that for days. Cute little off-white ramekins sat to the side of the main dish. One had syrup and the other butter; both were offset with what appeared to be hand-tied bows of the softest shade of pink. Bows of the same color were tied around the silverware, around the bases of the stemmed glasses filled with orange juice, around the coffee mugs, and around the pink rose in the corner. The flower sat nestled in its homemade "vase" of burlap; it was simple but stunning.

  Next to the rose sat a "gift box" made from that pliable cake sheet icing Tricia used when she tried tempting me with sugary goodness.

  I reached a hand toward Max's longtime housekeeper, and when she took it, I said, "This is gorgeous. You've gone above and beyond."

  "It's no less than you deserve. Max told me what you did and—" Her voice cracked. "Just be prepared to be pampered every day from here on out."

  Max must have told her what I'd said about my determination to keep the fight away from them.

  She pulled her hand away and hurried from the room.

  Somehow, I managed to avoid whatever dessert Tricia had made for all of seven minutes before swapping the pancake plate for the dessert plate. She was continually joking—well, mostly joking—about me needing to put some meat on my bones, and if she kept feeding me like this while I was recovering, I was afraid she would succeed.

  "I hope it's the lemon cake she made a couple weeks back. Then again, seeing that I can't go to the gym for a while, it'd probably be better if it was those coconut bars you love. At least then, I'd be able to say no." While I liked fresh coconut, I couldn't stand the shredded stuff, which those bars were loaded with.

  Index finger hooked beneath my chin, he tilted my face toward him and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "You could balloon up
to three hundred pounds, and I'd still love you."

  I kissed him back and then grinned. "In that case, bring on the dessert, handsome!" I dug my fork into the cake, but the tines connected with something hard and unyielding. That couldn't be a good sign.

  I scraped the icing aside and found black mold. No, not black. Blue. And it wasn't mold. It was—

  Holy fuck, was that a ring box?

  "Max…" Hands suddenly trembling, I dropped the fork. "Is this what I think it is?"

  "Yes and no."

  "This is no time for word games!" I felt as if my head would explode.

  Forgoing silverware, Max dug the box from the pastry and held it open, revealing an enormous princess cut diamond engagement ring. I said enormous because I wasn't sure just how many carats this thing was.

  "Max…" My heart was doing the samba.

  "I know what you said about doing things in the right order this time. I respect that, and part of me knows you're right. But I almost lost you, Bree. I promised I'd always keep you safe, and I failed. Théo might have wielded the knife, but I played a vital role. Or should I say, my past did. And when I dropped down beside you that night, your blood literally on my hands, that realization hit me like a freight train." His voice wobbled but didn't break. "You were right, sweetheart. If we're going to move forward, we have to do it with our eyes open and with no secrets."

  After wiping his hands clean, he removed the ring and placed it on my right ring finger.

  "I love you, Bree. I hope that, even after all my fuck-ups, you know that. There's no one I've ever wanted to spend my life with the way I want to with you. But there are things from my past I haven't told you. Things I need to tell you. So, before I feel like I can ask you to be my wife, I need to tell you everything. You deserve nothing less. Only then, do I feel like you can make an informed decision."

  "Okay, Max, you're scaring me." What could be so horrible about his past, he thought it'd weigh so heavily into my decision to marry him?

  "That wasn't my intention." He pulled my hands to his lips, first one and then the other. "I simply love you too much to let you do something you may regret."

  Strike that, terrifying didn't begin to describe what was creeping through my veins right now.

  "When your doctor releases you to fly," he continued, "I want to take you home to Britain, to the small seaside town where I grew up. I want to take you to the house where my life fell apart. I'm going to start from the beginning, and I'm going to tell you everything. And then, when everything is out in the open, if you still want to marry me, I want you to move the ring to the other hand. If you'd rather walk away, then you can consider this a parting gift to do with as you please."

  He was tearing me apart. He'd told me he'd barely lived through his childhood, and I was finally beginning to understand the breadths of that confession. He was as broken as he was beautiful. I'd come to that conclusion already, but he was far more broken than I'd ever realized. The sturdy, robust exterior he showed the world was little more than a gorgeous facade around a fractured soul.

  Our relationship was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

  The End

  (Be sure to read the final chapter of Bree and Max's saga in All Maxed Out.)

  Brandi Evans

  Brandi Evans was raised by a caravan of traveling Gypsies. She spent her days learning the ways of her people and her nights lost in legends as old as time. Okay, not really, but that's way more interesting than the truth!

  In reality, Brandi grew up the oldest child of an ordinary family. Grade school, middle school, high school. Nothing extraordinary happened until she left the nest. She joined the military, went to college, got married, and became a mom. And somewhere along the way, she discovered she liked to read—and write!—stories hot enough to melt eReaders.

  Visit her website here:

  http://www.brandievansauthor.com/

  Visit her blog here:

  http://www.brandievansauthor.blogspot.com/

  Don’t miss these exciting titles by Brandi Evans and Blushing Books!

  Red Light Fantasies

  His for the Taking, Book 1

  A Hot Mess, Book 2

  Restrained Fantasies Series

  His Forbidden Submissive - Book 1

  Reading His Submissive - Book 2

  Blushing Books

  Blushing Books is one of the oldest eBook publishers on the web. We've been running websites that publish spanking and BDSM related romance and erotica since 1999, and we have been selling eBooks since 2003. We hope you'll check out our hundreds of offerings at http://www.blushingbooks.com.

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