Bedding The Bad Boy (Dalton Brothers Novels)

by Virna DePaul

  Maybe Max would know where his brother was.

  She pulled her phone out and found his number. The naughty texts from yesterday were still there, but she ignored them. Max didn’t answer either, but she left a detailed message, letting him know Melina was in the hospital and that she couldn’t get ahold of his brother.

  Moments later, Melina’s doctor arrived and explained she was going to administer meds to stop Melina’s contractions. She also said not to worry. That Melina and the babies were doing fine and weren’t in danger.

  It was almost an hour before her cell rang. She cast a quick glance at the caller ID: Max.

  When she answered the call, he didn’t wait for her to speak. “Rhys there?”

  “We haven’t been able to reach him.”

  “I have no clue where he is. How’s Melina?” His voice was tight and rough. Throaty, as though full of emotion.

  “She’s fine. The doctor put her on medication to stop the contractions.”

  “The babies?”

  Grace blew out a puff of air. “The babies are fine, too. Heart rates are normal, and everything looked good on the ultrasound. They’re sleepin’ through the whole thing. Where are you?”

  “I was in a meeting with our landlord. Jeremy spent half the time asking questions about Elizabeth and our photos in the paper. He was leaning towards letting us renew our lease… ”

  “Well go back then.”

  “’Fuck that. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  His vehemence caught her off-guard. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Screw what’s necessary. You focus on Melina and I’ll keep trying to get ahold of my brother on my way over.”

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. Still early afternoon. He said he’d almost convinced Jeremy to renew the lease, and she knew how important that was to everyone involved in the show.

  “Max, we’re fine on our own. You don’t have to come. Don’t jeopardize your career for somethin’ we don’t even know is serious or not.”

  “Dixie, the last thing I give a fuck about right now is my career. I’m certainly not going to be MIA when Melina’s in the hospital and pregnant with my future nieces or nephews. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”

  Max clicked out of the call, leaving Grace to stare blankly at the phone. Max rushing over to the hospital wasn’t what she’d anticipated. She’d thought he’d make a couple of calls, put out a couple of texts, not walk away from the negotiating table.

  Again, it proved how little she knew about Max and how much she’d underestimated him.

  She turned to Melina. “Max doesn’t know where Rhys is, but he’s goin’ to find him. He’ll be here soon.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Max’s Magic Rule #13:

  If you get stage fright, lock onto one person in the audience.

  Max punched the button in the hospital elevator, his thoughts split between worry for Melina and anger at Grace. Since Grace assured him Melina was going to be fine, anger was winning out. He’d do anything for his family. Why didn’t Grace see that? How could she doubt for even a second that he’d drop everything the minute he heard Melina was in the hospital?

  The fact she could think that made him even more determined to end things with her. He’d given her what she wanted so why risk exposing himself to yet more evidence of her low opinion of him?

  Quickly, he found Melina’s room. When he saw her, his heart slowed. She was pale and had a limp arm wrapped around her belly, but she and Grace were smiling. She smiled even harder when she saw him, holding out her arms.

  Grace smiled, too, but her smile faded when Max didn’t reciprocate. She stood, giving up her spot next to Melina on the bed.

  Max hugged Melina, pulled back then kissed her forehead.

  “Thank God you’re okay.” Gently, he laid his palm on the bulge of Melina’s stomach through her hospital gown and bed sheet. “Hey, babies.”

  Melina covered his hand with hers. "Max, you didn't need to come. The doctor has already given me somethin’ to stop the contractions."

  "You’re my sister now," Max said with a frown, acutely aware of how rough his voice had grown. "Even if you weren’t, you’re my friend. You know I’d be here.”

  Grace sucked in a breath. When he glanced up, her expression was stiff. Hurt.

  Max sighed and shook his head slightly in apology. In case she didn’t get the message, he said, “Hi Grace. Thanks for watching over Melina.”

  “No need to thank me,” she said. “She’s my best friend.”

  Melina flashed Grace another smile before turning back to Max. “Grace said you were in the middle of meeting with Jeremy. I’d hate for you to lose the theater because of me."

  “That’s not going to happen.” He pulled out his cell phone. Saw an unplayed message and several missed calls from Rhys. “Rhys—”

  “He called a few minutes ago and is on his way,” Melina said.

  “Where was—?”

  “Melina!”

  His brother’s voice sounded behind him.

  Max spun around to see Rhys rushing through the doorway, his face pale and haggard, eyes frantic. "Ladybug," he whispered, his gaze fixed on the face of his wife.

  "I'm okay, sweetie. And the babies are okay, too."

  Now it was Max who stood, making room for Rhys to sit on the bed.

  Just as Max had done, Rhys placed his hand on Melina’s protruding stomach and gently caressed it. After leaning forward and giving her a soft kiss on the lips, he cast a glance around the room, taking in the beeping monitors and the IV in Melina’s arm. “You said on the phone the doctor gave you meds to stop the contractions. You haven’t had any more pain?”

  “Absolutely none.”

  Max felt the air go in and out of his lungs more easily and he noticed Rhys’s shoulders relax. Still, the fact he hadn’t been able to reach his brother during a medical emergency pissed him off. "Where the hell were you, Rhys? Why weren't you with Melina?"

  His brother frowned. “I was out looking for another theater for the show, so we wouldn’t have to deal with Jeremy’s bullshit any longer.”

  "You picked now to go hunting for a new venue? Yesterday you said Melina wasn’t feeling well.”

  “Max—” Melina said.

  “Your wife was probably in preterm labor, you dickhead.”

  “You can’t think I would’ve left if I thought there was a chance in hell of her—”

  “Rhys, Max didn’t mean to imply that,” Grace said quietly. She moved next to Max. “He knows how much you love Melina.” Although she didn’t take Max’s hand, she stood close enough that he could feel her pressing against his side. She was taking his back, he realized. “He was just frantic when he couldn’t reach you. We all were.”

  Rhys took a deep breath and turned to his wife. "Baby, I thought I was just a phone call away. I wasn't that far—just about two miles, in the Pixie Dust Hotel. The manager called earlier this morning to tell me their headliner was going on tour in Europe and we could have the venue if conditions were met. I was there, looking at the stage and backstage area." He swore quietly, then dipped his head to kiss Melina’s lips then her belly. "I didn't realize there was no cell service in the theater. I should have checked to make sure. I am so, so sorry.”

  Melina laughed, the sound light and sweet. She stroked her husband’s cheek. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters. Besides, Grace was with me. She knew exactly what to do. I was in excellent hands."

  Max didn’t hesitate. He reached down and took Grace’s hand.

  He hoped the gesture conveyed everything he wanted it to, including that he was sorry. That he admired her for being such a sweet and loyal friend to Melina. That he thought she was an incredible woman, and would be an amazing mother—he just wanted her to wait until the time and the man was right.

  She looked at him with uncertainty then smiled and leaned in closer. Relief made him slightly dizzy.

  When he looked up, both
Rhys and Melina were staring at their joined hands.

  Remembering his promise to keep their arrangement a secret, Max let go and took several steps away from her.

  “The Pixie Dust Theater is gorgeous,” Melina said. “What happened?”

  "Unfortunately, even after all this, the venue won't work—not enough room under the stage for some of our tricks. For now, Jeremy’s still got us on the hook.” He looked at Max. "I really wanted the new venue to work," he said quietly. "You shouldn't have to play the media on a constant basis just to keep the lease agreement in place. That sucks for you."

  Surprise shut down any response Max could have made. He’d always thought Rhys and his parents believed playing the charming playboy was easy for him. Rhys going out on his own and trying to find a new venue spoke volumes.

  “How’d the meeting with Jeremy go today?" Rhys asked.

  Max shook his head. "Let’s talk about that later.” Rhys wouldn’t give a shit that Max left Jeremy hanging in the wind to race over here, even if that meant losing their lease as of yesterday, but the last thing he wanted was to add more to his brother’s worries. Max wanted all of Rhys’s focus where it belonged—on Melina and their babies, not on him or the show.

  Grace said something to Melina and he looked at her again.

  All day he’d planned what he’d say to her. How he’d tell her they were over. The thought of doing so had seemed difficult before. It seemed almost impossible now.

  A rush of emotion swirled through him as he gazed at her. Awareness. Attraction. Respect. Longing.

  That was a complication he didn’t like. He’d started to care far too much about what Grace thought of him, and he wasn’t big on being disappointed. In her eyes, he’d never be a man worthy enough to build a life with.

  A bustling sounded at the doorway and he turned to see a doctor in a white coat, stethoscope around her neck and a chart in her hands, entering Melina’s room.

  After introducing herself to Melina and Rhys and getting their permission to speak in front of Max and Grace, the doctor flipped through the chart.

  “You were definitely in preterm labor, Mrs. Dalton,” Dr. Ellis said.

  “Meaning?” Rhys asked.

  “Melina’s body thinks it’s ready to have the babies. We’ve put her on medication but I’m going to recommend she stays in the hospital for the next few days while we get her stabilized.”

  ***

  After the doctor left, Grace breathed in deeply, the scent of cleanser reminding her where she was, as though the beeping monitors weren’t proof enough. Thank God she’d been there to help Melina get to the hospital. And thank God Rhys showed up. Even though she’d been handling things and trying to hold it together beforehand, Melina had seemed to relax substantially once her husband appeared in the doorway.

  It wasn’t lost on Grace that she’d been hiding her own anxiety and stress, but felt immeasurably better after Max stormed into the room, even with his brooding expression and fisted hands, and the way he initially ignored her.

  Now Max and Rhys spoke quietly, making arrangements for Melina’s stay in the hospital. Watching them, she remembered her conversation with Max about whether she’d want two men to pleasure her. She doubted she’d ever actually do it, but the fantasy was hot as hell. The only thing hotter than imagining being taken by two men was imagining being taken by Max and his identical twin.

  There’d be two pairs of hazel eyes to gaze into. Two sets of strong hands. Two muscled chests to caress and mouths to kiss. Two…

  Max glanced up and cocked a questioning brow at her. Flushing, Grace looked away.

  Mortification swept through her. What was wrong with her? Melina was in the hospital and here she was fantasizing about her friend’s husband doing her right along with Max.

  She was a horrible, horrible person.

  With her friend’s pregnancy at risk, her quest for an orgasm, even if it had been partially achieved, seemed all the more ridiculous.

  More than ever, the scare they’d all had tonight proved what mattered most was family. It was also a reminder that she’d wronged Max by doubting he could be more than a good lover.

  Time and again, she’d told herself he was the man the media presented to the world—the man he presented to the media.

  A playboy.

  A bad boy.

  Hell, he’d even called himself those things.

  But those monikers weren’t accurate. No, Max may have dated numerous women, and may have used the media’s attention to pump up his own reputation, but deep down, his family came first. He cared deeply—about his mother, his father, his brother, and now his sister-in-law and soon-to-be-born nieces or nephews.

  She watched Max reach out and stroke a strand of hair behind Melina’s ears. Melina was right. If the way he treated his parents, Rhys and Melina, and yes, Grace, was any indication, Max was going to make a wonderful husband and father someday.

  It just sucked that it wouldn’t be with her.

  That meant she needed to stop wasting their time. She needed to push forward with her plan. When the time was right, she’d tell Max. Let him know he was off the hook.

  “What can we do, Grace and I?” Max asked Rhys.

  Grace started. That Max included her in his question surprised her. He’d referred to them as a “we,” reinforcing the conclusion Rhys and Melina would have jumped to when he’d reached out and held her hand.

  They weren’t a “we.” Not an “us.” And yet when she glanced at him, she realized he was staring at her as if the word “we” was on purpose.

  She cleared her throat. “Yes… What do you need done? I’m happy to help.”

  Rhys ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t think of anything.”

  Melina jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow. “Uh… hello? Nursery. Cribs. Disaster zone?”

  Rhys flashed her a grin, then turned to Max. “I started the project yesterday, but I was distracted by my beautiful wife. The pieces are still all over the nursery. Do you think you and Grace could put cribs together?”

  Max looked at Grace. “Do you know how to use those weird hex screwdriver things?”

  She couldn’t help it—she giggled. “I think between the two of us, we can figure out how to put together a couple of cribs. After all, neither of us has a beautiful wife to distract us.”

  Something dark flashed in Max’s eyes, then was gone. “We’ll do it,” he said to Rhys. “Need anything else?”

  “We need bedding for the babies, too,” Melina said. “I have a bunch of clothes and diapers, but other than the quilts, no sheets or blankets.”

  “We’ll take care of that once we’re done with the cribs.” He bent to give Melina a light kiss on the cheek. “And we’ll be back later tonight to check on you.”

  Another use of the word “we,” Grace noted. An odd tingle shot up her tummy and into her chest. In past relationships, the use of the word “we” had signaled a turning point—a moment when the relationship deepened from dating to a full-on connection. Was Max even aware of what he was saying or how it could be construed?

  She gave herself a mental head-shake. She was reading way too much into a casual use of a pronoun. She may have finally admitted Max Dalton had much more depth than she’d originally given him credit for, but that didn’t change anything. He’d offered to give her orgasms in a variety of ways. He seemed to like her and enjoy her company. But he’d liked and enjoyed the company of many, many women over the years, and he’d continue to do so.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Max’s Magic Rule #14:

  For good or bad, an audience can turn on you at any time.

  The house was quiet—too quiet, Grace thought as she and Max walked into Melina and Rhys’s place. The ticking of a clock in the kitchen was the only sound. Eerie, given that hours earlier her and Melina’s laughter had filled the small home.

  “I’ll probably need your help,” Max said, bumping into her as she came to a stop in the doorway of
the nursery.

  The room was a disaster. Crumpled instructions were scattered on the floor, as were slats, boards, screws and nuts. She nudged a board with her foot. “No problem, I’m happy to help. Looks like Rhys left us a bit of a mess,” she said. “I imagine it would be hard to put a crib together with just one person.”

  Max barked out a quick laugh. “Yeah, especially when that one person is me.”

  She glanced at him and was surprised to see his face lined with tension instead of humor, the way she’d anticipated. “What do you mean?”

  Max shrugged. “Rhys is the one that designs the props we need for the show. When it comes to inanimate objects, I’m great with my hands once something’s built, but…” He shrugged. “Good thing I’m just the looks of the two of us or we’d be stuck with just cards and scarves rather than the intricate stuff Rhys creates.”

  “Max,” she said quietly. “You’re not just a sexy and good-lookin’ guy. You’re every bit as talented as Rhys. I’m ashamed if I ever implied otherwise…”

  He stiffened and his eyes widened before his expression went blank. “Thanks. Now, how do we get started?” He focused on the crib parts, picking up a piece at random.

  He’s insecure and afraid, she realized. Just as insecure and afraid as I am. How is that possible?

  “Max—” She stopped when he shook his head.

  “Grace,” he said. “I think, despite what you said the other day, you know we’re friends. So given we’re friends, let’s just focus on the cribs, yeah?”

  She wanted to shout no. She wanted to insist they talk about him and her and how much she liked him and how, if she thought it was really possible, she’d want to be more than his friend. Much, much more. Instead, she picked up the crib assembly instructions. “Here, take this and see what you can puzzle out. I’ll gather up the hardware.”

  “Hardware?”

  “Nuts. Bolts. Those hex screwdrivah things you mentioned.”

  “Gotcha. I get the wood and you get to screw.”