by Max Henry
Damn it.
“It was a chance meeting one morning, that’s all.” I take my drink from where Mom set it on the low table and occupy myself with a small sip from the glass.
“Come on, baby,” Boe coos.
I flick a heated glare his way.
“Don’t downplay it.”
“It looks as though you better fill us in on all the best bits,” Mom urges.
“When is dinner due?” I interject.
“In about”—Mom checks her watch—“ten minutes. Why?”
“Can you help me set the table, please?” I jerk my head toward the kitchen.
She frowns, yet takes my hint and rises from her seat. “I’ll be back. Why don’t you fill Boe in on our day, Sue?”
I refrain from dragging my mother out of earshot, instead setting a prompt pace for her to follow.
She places her glass down on the counter once we’re alone and fixes me with a raised eyebrow, hand to hip. “What on earth has gotten into you?”
“I’ve been caught off guard, is all.”
“In what way?” she presses. “Why would me meeting your latest squeeze get you in such a flap?” Her eyes narrow sharply.
I hug myself; ass leaned into the counter opposite. “What has he told you?”
“He’s between jobs, that you’ve only been together a short while, but he didn’t need a lot of time to know you were right for him.” She takes on a dreamy faraway look, hands pressed to her heart. “So beautiful, really.”
“Christ,” I mutter.
“Edith!”
The remaining wine in my glass disappears with three hearty gulps. “It’s very new, like he said,” I explain. “I don’t want to bore you with his background in case it doesn’t work out.”
She gives me a disappointed purse of her lips. “The man is smitten with you,” Mom offers in hushed tones. “Why wouldn’t it work out?”
“Perhaps he’s not as right for me as he thinks I am for him.” I shrug. “We’re still learning about one another.”
“Honey.” She crosses the kitchen and sets her hands on my upper arms. “You asked him to move in.”
“Because I thought it would highlight our differences.”
“And it hasn’t. “She rubs her hands up and down and then gently squeezes. “So what is it you fear?”
Fear. My God. I needed my damn mother to analyze me as I do my patients for me to darn well see it.
“I guess, heartache,” I supply.
She drops her hands away, eyes narrowed as she studies me. “There’s more, though. Don’t you dare hold out. Tell me why you’re so petrified of him sharing your history in front of me.”
Ugh. This is it. I tell her what his issues are and she’ll nitpick about his flaws until I drop him for my own sanity.
“He was a client,” I whisper.
The silence between us says it all. I sheepishly lift my gaze to hers, finding exactly what I expect to see: disbelief.
“You could have lost your license,” she utters. “Are you mad?”
I laugh bitterly. “The thought has crossed my mind.”
She pulls a deep breath and promptly fills her glass. “I guess I shouldn’t be shocked.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I turn away and collect the plates, figuring we should at least make an effort to be seen doing what I said we were.
“It means,” she says, gathering forks. “Considering how your father and I met, I guess it’s in the blood.”
“You both met while on summer holiday in the hills,” I say flatly. “How does that compare?”
A slight blush colors her cheeks. “I may have omitted some key points.”
The plates hit the table with a clatter. I give Boe and Sue a smile, only continuing with Mom once they restart their conversation. “You better explain right now.”
She fusses with the position of a fork with one hand, casually sipping her wine with the other. “Our families knew each other, that much is true. But I let you believe it was friendly in nature.”
I tip my head, pausing in my placement of the dinner plates. “Was it not?”
“Far from it. Your grandmother would go to ridiculous lengths to ensure we didn’t visit the Country Club at the same time as your father’s family did. Your grandfathers weren’t always so cordial toward one another. In fact, they may have been removed from an establishment on one occasion it was that severe.”
I take a seat. I can’t fathom what she tells me. My whole upbringing has shifted like a kaleidoscope finding the next pattern.
“Anyway,” she says with a sigh. “To cut a long story short, your father and I wed in secret.”
“You what?”
The conversation in the living area ceases. The buzzer announces dinner’s arrival.
Mom smiles sweetly. “I’ll get that. You stay there.”
“Everything okay?” Boe rounds the table and takes a seat beside me.
I nod, eyes glazed as I stare at my perfectly coiffed mother receive the bags of Italian. She just… she doesn’t look the same anymore.
Who is this woman?
“This smells glorious,” she announces, approaching the table.
“Mmm.” Sue takes a seat opposite me. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.”
“Dig in.” Mom places the containers on the table. “Don’t be shy.”
Everybody moves around me while I sit with my hands on either side of my plate. I’d let go of the damn thing, yet I have a feeling the tactile glaze beneath my fingertips is all that reminds me this indeed real life right now.
“Perk up,” Mom says, slapping pasta on my plate. “Everything worked out just how it should.”
If only she was referring to the food.
TWENTY-THREE
Boe
Edith sighs as I run my palms over her shoulders, gently massaging out the knots. “You’re so damn tense. Why?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She leans into my touch. “I’m fine now.”
“I can see that,” I deadpan. “But you weren’t before.” My thumbs work circles on the inside of her shoulder blades. “Tell me what upset you.”
Her chest expands with a long, deep breath. “I had a conversation with Mom, in the kitchen before we ate.”
“I know.”
She twists where she sits on the side of the bed and eyes me. “Really?”
I smile. “Do you honestly think I care that much about goddamn art? I kept Sue busy for you two.”
“Boe.” Edith turns, settling knee to knee with me. “You surprise me.”
“I try.”
Her hands cradle my face, the look in her eye nothing short of admiration. It’s the finest accolade I’ve ever earned.
“Tell me what she could have said that got under your skin,” I demand. “If you’ve got issues to deal with, then we share them. Got it?”
Water beads in her eyes. She smiles softly before her lips part to take in much-needed oxygen. “I always thought my mother was born with a damn silver spoon in her mouth.” She settles, hands roving my chest and stomach as she talks. “Always so proper, never slipping up in the slightest.”
“She’s human like you,” I remind her.
Edith nods. “I see that now.” A short laugh escapes her. “My parents wed in secret.”
“Wow.”
“Right?” She climbs on my lap, linking her ankles behind me.
I grip her waist, contemplating whether it would be deemed inappropriate to slip inside her right now, or not. We’re both naked after all…. “Is that really so upsetting?”
“I guess not.” Her hips twitch ever so slightly.
Once more and I’m going for it—to hell with manners. “She’s quite a lovely lady, you know?”
“This is my mother you’re talking about?”
“The very one.” I shift Edith so that her pussy blankets my hard cock. “I had a good chat to her myself when Sue popped outside to smoke.”
�
�Really?”
“Yuh-huh.” My palms find her ass. “We discussed a few things, one of which we agreed on emphatically.”
“I really don’t know how I feel about you discussing my mother with me during foreplay,” Edith says with a laugh.
“We can stop.” Although I’d rather we didn’t.
She shakes her head; dark locks falling over her shoulders to highlight her breasts. “Only after you’ve told me one thing.”
“What would that be?”
“What on earth you and my mother could ever agree on.”
I thought she’d never ask…. I lean forward, lips brushing her ear as I whisper, “That you should marry me.”
Her whole body goes rigid. “You did not.”
“We did.”
I’m pretty damn sure this is where the woman is supposed to gush “yes”, but whatever. Edith bites her bottom lip, eyes searching mine.
“A man could need some severe therapy after this kind of rejection,” I tease.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“About everything that involves you.” I place a chaste kiss to her lips. “So what do you say? Is it a yes, or do I need to find myself another shrink?”
Her hand connects with my shoulder, hard. It does nothing to lessen the raging erection begging to celebrate the decision, whatever it is.
“Yes! I can’t believe this is how you proposed, though,” she laughs. “But yes!”
“Baby. With you and me, it was bound to be unconventional.” I silence any complaints with my tongue, laying my new fiancé down to make this moment even more memorable.
I walked into that first appointment hell-bent on proving to what I assumed would be an arrogant woman that I didn’t need a damn thing from her.
What I got was one hell of a wake-up call.
I needed it all. Everything she could give.
Everything I was missing.
And as Edith cries out with pleasure, nails scoring her claim on my back, I don’t think she needs to ever worry about this man reoffending.
Not when I’ve got the best way to work out my frustrations right here, clamped around my goddamn dick.
Doc and I? We’re going to be very, very good for each other.
EPILOGUE
Edith
“Boe!” I call out across our apartment. “I’m about to start a video call!”
My handsome husband appears at the office door, a dishtowel tossed over one shoulder and those damn gray sweatpants hanging from his hips.
He tried to replace them a year ago—I pulled them from the trash and put them back in his drawer, washed and ready to wear.
“Come on, ratbag.” He holds both arms out, fingers curling toward him.
The smell of lunch filters down the hall.
“Dada!” Our gorgeous blue-eyed boy gives up trying to walk on unsteady legs toward Boe and crawls instead.
He scoops Deacon into his arms and then enters the room. I lean up to kiss my baby and then tilt my head to receive one from my man.
“I’ll keep your food warm for when you’re done.”
“Thank you.”
He leaves, shutting the door behind them. The faint sound of the two most cherished men in my life filters through the wall as they battle over the highchair, but it won’t be enough for my client to hear.
Six months after our wedding Boe gave up trying to find the perfect job. Three temporary placements and a spell out of work had left him unsure what it was he wanted from life.
As it turns out, being a stay at home daddy is all that he needed. He took to the role like a duck to water, barely a glimpse of the angry jaded man who first walked into my office remaining.
I tried returning to my usual practice after having Deacon, but the distance frustrated me. Especially on the days where I’d be stuck late and miss my baby’s bedtime kiss.
So I moved to digital sessions. My clients come to me from around the world, referred through word of mouth or from one of the few doctors I’ve grown a great rapport with.
I couldn’t ask for a better balance.
The FaceTime icon flashes up, signaling my eleven-thirty is ready to go. I mouse over and click to accept, a smile on my face as I greet one of my newer guys.
“Hi, Sydney.” I lift my hand in greeting. “And hi there, Frank.”
Sydney’s guard gives me a nod.
Yeah. I also treat prisoners now too. After dealing with Boe, it softened my previous apprehension about dealing with those behind bars. I’ve started soft, treating men who are incarcerated for minor offenses.
I’m not sure I could carry the emotional weight of some of the lifers, although the offer is there if I’m willing to accept.
“Did you have visitors this week?” I ask.
Tattooed on the face and with a short-shaven head, Sydney fits the stereotypical image of a prisoner.
“Yes, Ma’am. My momma came by with my baby girl. She knows her whole ABCs now.”
“Wow. That’s fantastic. You must be so proud.”
But if I’ve learned one thing the past few years, it’s that you can’t judge a book by its cover.
“I sure am.” Sydney grins. “She gave me a new picture for my wall.” He turns to Frank for help since his hands are shackled to the table before him.
Frank slips a Polaroid from Sydney’s jumpsuit and positions it so I can see the image. A gorgeous little redhead girl and her strawberry-blonde mother doubled up on a swing.
“Petra said she’s mailed something to you, too. Did you get it?”
I frown as Frank slides the image back in Sydney’s pocket and shift my attention to the pile of mail on my desk. “Hold on.” Third down in the stack is a card-sized envelope. Sure enough, the return address is Sydney’s wife. “Here it is.”
I lean back and slide a finger under the lip, opening out the sides. A note is encased inside with another Polaroid slipped between the folded halves.
“She wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, but I said you’d like it,” Sydney explains.
I shake the image out and turn it up the right way. His baby girl and Petra, seated on what appears to be their living room floor with a homemade sign propped up between them.
Thank you, Doctor Edith.
“Was it okay?” Sydney leans forward.
I wipe the tear from my cheek and nod. “Yes. Thank you. It’s perfect.”
“Without you, I wouldn’t have got early release,” he explains.
I wave him away. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“God’s honest truth, Ma’am.”
People like him? They’re the whole reason why I do what I do.
Because when you have the ability to make a difference in the world, then who am I to waste that talent?
“I’m just glad I could help.”
ALSO BY MAX
Visit Amazon here: amazon.com/author/maxhenry
STANDALONE
Malaise
Tough Love
Echoes In The Storm
DARK TIDE SERIES (Rock star)
Down Beat
TWISTED HEARTS DUET (New Adult/Age Gap)
Desire
Regret
FALLEN ACES MC SERIES
Unrequited
Unbreakable
Tormented
Existential
Misguided
BUTCHER BOYS SERIES
Devil You Know
Devil on Your Back
Devil May Care
Devil in the Detail
Devil Smoke
RED HOT READ
One More Night
Playing with the Boss
Lady Killer
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and bred in Canterbury, New Zealand, Max now resides with her family in beautiful and sunny Queensland, Australia.
Life with two young children can be hectic at times, and although she may not write as often as she would like, Max wouldn’t change a thing.
In her down time, Max ca
n be found at her local gym, brain-storming through a session with the weights. If not, she’s probably out drooling over one of many classic cars on show that she wishes she owned.
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