Thank You For Loving Me

by Lori Ryan

Any attempt at a solution was interrupted when the door burst open and Ben stepped inside, Maggie hanging over his shoulder in a hold similar to the one Max had used moments before.

  Devlin screamed, crouching down.

  Maggie screamed, popping up and straining to look over Ben’s head.

  “Oh, jeez!” Ben hollered, covering his eyes. “What the hell, Max? You knew I was coming to the bedroom.”

  Devlin snatched Max’s shirt, quickly yanking it over her head. When she stood up, his shirt hit her almost at the knees, and the result was sexy as fuck.

  Devlin tossed the bridesmaid dress over a chair in the corner and turned to Maggie. “Give the dress to Holly for me?”

  Maggie nodded, her face now red from being turned upside down, but Max saw an amused smirk on her face.

  Devlin stalked toward the window, all her pride intact despite having been caught with her dress around her knees. “Let’s go, Casanova,” she said, climbing through the open window as though she hadn’t been fighting him on it minutes before.

  Ben glanced at Max and both men shrugged.

  “Prince Charming!” Devlin yelled from below. “Get your sweet ass down here. It’s cold.”

  Ben flipped Maggie on the bed and she grinned at Max. “Good luck with that one, Max.” Maggie said.

  “Thanks, Maggie. Lord knows I’ll need it.” Max stepped through the open window knowing he’d need much more than luck to tame Devlin Darby. In a sick way, he was looking forward to the challenge.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Devlin stared out the car window at the striking house in front of them. It was Victorian style with a welcoming wrap-around porch lined with large flower pots and a wooden porch swing.

  “Where are we?” she asked, turning toward the driver’s seat, but Max was gone. Her door opened and he extended his hand.

  “My lady,” he said with a small British accent.

  “Why, thank you, kind sir,” she answered in her sappiest voice, laughing as she realized she sounded more like a bird than the feminine voice she’d been going for. She studied the woods that surrounded the house. She knew they were close to the lodge but didn’t know exactly where. “Where are we?”

  Max tucked her under his arm and closed the car door. “We’re at my parents’ bed and breakfast. They ran this before they built the lodge but now Lily lives here, and Kayleigh occasionally, when she can’t drive back into town. Several of us are staying here for the wedding weekend. The others probably won’t be home for another few hours.”

  “Oh,” Devlin said, still taking in the quaintness of the whole place. It seemed odd that such a large house could be called quaint, but that’s what it was. “It’s beautiful here, so quiet.”

  “I know, I love the B and B.”

  Devlin looked up at Max. “You do?”

  “Yes.” He led them up the three steps until they stood on the porch. “Why does that surprise you?”

  She shrugged, not really sure why the fact he loved the bed and breakfast surprised her. She supposed it was hard to picture a big football player loving what she associated this type of lodging with—soft frills, an overabundance of decorative pillows, and comforting tea or hot chocolate on a cold night.

  “Believe it or not, I like things simple.” He twisted a key in the knob and opened the door, ushering her in.

  “I hardly think life in the NFL is simple.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t most of the time, but I guess it made me appreciate a simple life all the more.”

  “A simple life,” Devlin said under her breath. Could she ever do that? She’d thought her entire life had been spent chasing a dream, but maybe Maggie was right. Maybe she’d been running from a nightmare without ever stopping to face it.

  “You okay?” Max asked.

  Devlin took in the entry way. A large staircase with a rose-colored carpet sat to the left. Ahead was a formal living room and off to the right, a sitting room with cushy couches that just begged a person to sink into them and curl their feet up with a book. Even from the entry, Devlin could see an ornate fireplace in the living room that must have once served to heat the whole house, or at least the downstairs.

  Past that, a dining room in shades of deep blue with an elaborate paneled ceiling beckoned. She moved toward it, as if drawn in to the idea of sitting with a large family to share a meal.

  “The bedrooms are on the second and third floor. There’s a small deck on top for star gazing.”

  Devlin was in awe. This was the house of her dreams, a home she hadn’t dared to dream of as a child. Her parents had moved around so much, she’d never known what roots were. But this house, this B and B, it felt like it had roots. It felt like a home.

  “I love it,” she said, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s amazing.”

  “You’re cold,” Max said, coming up behind her and rubbing her arms.

  Devlin shivered, and she wasn’t sure it was from the temperature. “I forgot how cool it can get in Colorado even in the summer time.”

  “It’s the mountains,” Max said. “We’re closer to the top here.”

  “Oh,” she said, her mind still entranced by the house.

  “Here,” he turned her toward the stairs. “My room is on the third floor, the last one at the end of the hall. I’ll grab some hot chocolate and meet you up there. I can light the fireplace and get you warmed up.”

  “Oh, don’t build a fire. It’s too much—”

  Before Devlin could put up much protest, Max gave her a gentle push toward the stairs. “We had all the fireplaces converted to gas years ago. It’s a flick of a switch, I promise.”

  Devlin could get used to this. She climbed the stairs, in awe of the décor in the hallways. The home was beautiful with its wide wood floorboards and the crown molding and details that made it stand out from any other home.

  When she got to Max’s room, she drew in a breath. Although the bedroom itself was small, it had a room off the back of it that was circular in shape with windows on three sides. Soft couches drew her in and what looked like a small wood stove sat in one corner. She flicked a switch near the stove and flames lit instantly, licking ceramic logs.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have any clothes here for you.”

  Devlin glanced up and noticed Max leaning against the doorway to the sitting room, arms crossed against his broad chest. “Although to be honest, I don’t really want you in clothes tonight.”

  Devlin smiled. Yeah, she could get used to all of this.

  Max winked and her heart skipped a beat, making her think of a sappy romance novel.

  She stared at the fire, the light dancing against the glass opening that covered the front of the stove. She felt lost and she had no idea what to do. She was pregnant. With Max’s baby.

  The only thing she was sure of in all this mess, was that she had to tell Max. Tonight.

  Max set two mugs of hot chocolate on the table in front of the couch, then came to sit next to her. He brushed a piece of hair over her shoulder and kissed her neck.

  Or maybe she could wait until tomorrow to tell him the news. No need to ruin the moment just yet. Devlin laughed.

  Max pulled back. “Did I tickle you?”

  “No,” Devlin shook her head. “I liked it. I like you.” She bit her lip, surprised the words had come out. “I mean, I like what you do to me. That’s what I like.”

  Max raised a brow but said nothing, instead pushing her onto her back. There was lust in his eyes, but something more. “I like you too, Devlin Darby.” That wicked grin spread across his flawless face. God, that mouth. She wished he’d like her with that tongue of his.

  As if reading her thoughts, Max lowered his head, nuzzling her neck before moving down toward her belly.

  She squirmed under his touch.

  “Someone’s sensitive,” he said, pushing up her shirt. “I love these.” He ran a finger along the top edge of her panties. “But I think you look better without them.” Max dipped his head, his ey
es still on her as his mouth opened and he bit down on her panties and tugged them off.

  Max sat back on his heels, taking the underwear in his hand and stuffing them into his pocket.

  She huffed out a laugh but the breathless quality of it made it sound closer to a pant. “What are you doing with my underwear? You’re taking all my clothes.”

  He ignored her, going back to her body with a flick of his tongue across one hip bone.

  “Max,” she growled, but she wasn’t sure if it was in protest or plea.

  “Devlin,” he murmured, his lips caressing the soft skin of her thighs. Oh, God, if he stayed there forever, Devlin thought she would die a happy woman.

  He made his way up her legs, skipping over the spot where she wanted that mouth the most. Instead, his fingers lifted the hem of the t-shirt he’d loaned her, pulling it up and over her head. He gazed down at her, his eyes heated.

  “God, you’re so beautiful.”

  Devlin glanced down at herself. Her breasts were bigger and she thought she could see a small rise in her belly, though given how early she was in her pregnancy she was probably only imaging it. God, she had to tell him before she turned into a Jersey cow.

  “Max,” she whispered quietly.

  He ignored her, dipping his head low and taking one beaded nipple in his mouth.

  She dug her fingers into his wavy hair. When his mouth was on her she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. He moved to the other breast, taking his time with his feast.

  “Your breasts are so amazing,” he whispered against her skin.

  “Oh,” she jerked, surprised when his teeth scraped against her.

  “You okay?” he asked, looking up to watch her carefully.

  She nodded. She was fine—super sensitive, but fine.

  Max returned to his ministrations, giving each breast ample time as she wriggled beneath him.

  Devlin’s hips lifted of their own accord.

  Max chuckled. “Someone’s eager.” Without having to ask, he worked his way south.

  She whimpered as his tongued licked a trail downward. “Oh, God.” Yep, he was there, where she wanted him the most. “God, you’re so good at that. You must practice a lot.” Even as the words slipped through her mouth, Devlin wished she could take them back. The thought of Max being intimate with other women made her stomach sick.

  Thankfully Max ignored her comment, allowing his tongue to skate across her sensitive flesh.

  She shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold.

  Max paused. “Are you still cold?”

  Hell no, she was burning up with pleasure. Pleasure, desire, and need. For him.

  Max unzipped his shorts and lowered them until he sprang free. He had a beautiful cock. That sounded horrible to say, but it was true.

  “You want this?” he asked, stroking himself.

  Devlin nearly came on the spot. “Yes,” she choked out.

  Max roared with laughter and lowered himself, his body hovering just above her, a teasing glint to his gaze that said she was in trouble. “You look so goddamn beautiful in the firelight.” He spoke with reverence. “It’s like you’re glowing from within.”

  She slid a hand around his neck, drawing him closer. “Please, Max.” She wasn’t the sort to beg, but right now she wanted Max more than her next breath.

  His chest rubbed against her nipples sending a wave of desire straight between her legs as his lips brushed against hers. “You’ll never have to beg me, sweetheart. I’ll always give you what you want.”

  His words warmed her almost as much as his body had. Devlin wasn’t used to terms of endearment or soft words. Her father had been a hard-ass growing up, treating her like one of his marines.

  “What do you want, Devlin?”

  A shiver of dark desire raced down her spine. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him toward her.

  “You,” she whispered. “All I want is you, Max.”

  He slowly slipped inside.

  Devlin moaned with relief.

  “I want you, too.” His warm breath caressed her ear. “More than you know.”

  She was too overcome with emotion and longing to ask any questions, too overwhelmed with her own feelings of wanting more from this man, more than she’d ever wanted before. Instead of talking, she clutched him tighter, praying that after she told him the truth, he’d still want her. Because if she were being honest, she would admit she was tired of running. She needed roots.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Max woke slowly, enjoying the feel of Devlin’s soft body in his arms. He liked the way she fit so perfectly against him, loved the way her warm breaths tickled his skin.

  She stirred and looked up at him, blinking away the sleep. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.” He smiled.

  She began to pull away, but he tightened his hold, stilling her. “Let’s be lazy and stay in bed for a bit,” he said. He had work to do at the barn but he wasn’t ready to let her go. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be.

  Shit, where had that thought come from.

  She paused as if contemplating his request, staring up at him with those gorgeous light brown eyes. The moment quickly passed and she returned his smile, settling back into his arms, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

  “I can’t be too lazy,” she warned. “I have wedding details to work on.”

  Max ran a hand up her arm and then slid it down to curve over her hip and backside. His body stirred. Much more of this and he wouldn’t be letting her out of bed anytime soon.

  She nuzzled closer, lifting her leg to rest on top of his. “Does that hurt you?” she asked, beginning to pull her leg away.

  He caught her before she could move far and drew her leg back over him. “Not at all. My knees definitely ache some, but you’re not heavy enough to contribute to the problem.” Even if she were, he’d never complain.

  “Do they hurt a lot?” she asked.

  Max shook his head. “Not all the time.” For some reason, her questions about his old injuries didn’t bother him the way it did with other people.

  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to decide whether or not to tell Devlin everything. For reasons he didn’t want to explore right now, he didn’t want any secrets between them. Probably because he felt like Devlin was keeping plenty of her own.

  “I didn’t leave the NFL because of my knees,” he said on a sigh. “Not exactly, anyway.” When she didn’t answer, he kept going. “I left because I was addicted to pain meds. I got hooked on them and had to go to rehab.”

  She pulled away from him.

  He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were wide with shock, but he also saw concern in their depths, and best of all, no judgment.

  “That’s why you try to manage the pain without medication now?” she said.

  He nodded and pulled her back down. It was easier to talk about this when he didn’t have to look into those eyes of her. She might be concerned now, but he didn’t know how he would handle it if that turned to disgust, or worse yet, pity as the news sank in that he was a weak son of a bitch.

  He moved his eyes to the ceiling. “I was lucky. My coach figured out what was happening and got me into a rehab without the press or anyone else finding out.”

  “Not even your family?”

  He could hear the shock in her voice. “No. I didn’t want them to know what I’d done.”

  She placed both hands on his chest and pushed up, staring down at him. She refused to let him hide, and he both hated and loved her for that.

  Her caramel-colored eyes were darker now, filled with an emotion he couldn’t decipher, and that scared the shit out of him.

  “What do you mean, ‘What you’d done?’” She stared at him. “You didn’t do anything, Max, except give your heart and soul to a sport that didn’t love you back.”

  He stared up at this fierce woman. He’d always thought he was tough, playing with pro football players, but th
e look in her eyes actually scared him more than a 300 pound defensive lineman ever did.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’re talking about this as though your family would love you less for suffering from a problem that many people struggle with every day. You didn’t start out taking the medicine for shits and giggles, did you?”

  “No, but—”

  “Uh-uh.” She held up one finger and shook her head, her long hair grazing his chest. “No buts. You were in pain. I’ve seen the way you feel some days. I can tell you’re hurting.”

  Well, hell. He thought he’d been doing a good job hiding the pain.

  “I can’t imagine how it was back when you were playing,” she continued on. “You needed those pills, at first. And you fought back against the addiction when you had to, and got off of them. Right?”

  He nodded.

  “That says a lot about your strength, about the kind of man you are. Your family wouldn’t think any less of you if you shared this with them. They’d be just as proud of you, probably even more so.”

  He studied her. She meant what she said. “I’m glad I told you. I didn’t want this secret to be between us. I don’t like keeping it from everyone.”

  She looked down at that, and he wondered if he’d pushed too much. He could almost see her putting her walls up. He didn’t want that.

  He slid a hand into her hair and tugged her close, covering her mouth with his. If he needed to keep her physically close to keep her heart close, that’s what he would do, for now.

  In minutes she was moaning against his mouth, her earlier look of fight-or-flight gone. Her beautiful eyes begged for his touch and he obliged. He wanted to dive into her sweet soft heat and pretend she wasn’t always trying to push him away. He would talk to her in the one way they both understood.

  He made love to her, slowly, gently, saying with his body what he couldn’t with words. Every kiss, every deep stroke, every caress, he whispered her name and worshiped her body. He wished she would trust him but he would take this, their physical connection, until he could have more of her than just her body.

  When they were both worn out and spent from the throes of passion, they collapsed together, falling asleep in a tangle of legs and arms. They were closer now than when he’d awoken earlier, but somehow, Devlin felt further away than ever. And he knew it wasn’t because she thought any less of him because he’s shared his story of addiction. He was getting closer to her heart, and it didn’t take a genius to see that scared the hell out of Devlin. The truth was, it scared the hell out of him too, but he was willing to take a chance on this dark-haired minx.