by Kally Ash
“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.”
Chapter 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.
“Yes, Gigi?” he replied, his voice low and gravelly and oh, so tempting.
She sucked in a breath to settle the butterflies in her stomach. Her eyes dipped to his mouth, which had parted slightly, and she wanted to just get up and press her lips against his. She wanted to know whether he tasted as good as he smelled and looked.
“I—” she started, but stopped when Max moved around the bench and stood so close to her that she could practically feel his heartbeat. “What—”
Her words were cut off when he leaned down and kissed her. For a second, she was too stunned to do anything. It didn’t take her body long to figure it out though. Her mouth moved against his, her lips finding a rhythm she wasn’t aware she knew. She felt his tongue dart out, and she opened her mouth, letting him in, letting him take her. She was getting lost in the sensations, happily drowning in them, when Max pulled away. He had a frown on his face that Gigi couldn’t decipher, but she had a feeling it wasn’t a good thing.
“Max…”
“I’m sorry,” he said, cutting her off. “That was inappropriate.”
Inappropriate? It had been electric and spontaneous and completely unexpected, but it had not been inappropriate, at least not as far as she was concerned. He moved back around to the other side of the bench and picked up the knife again, cutting the pepper carefully and precisely.
He cleared his throat. “You were saying?”
She was speechless. She wanted to tell him that kiss had been everything she had hoped and dreamed it would be, but he clearly wanted to forget that it had ever happened. Was it her fault? Had he not enjoyed it? She could count the number of boys she had kissed before on one hand, and none of them had complained.
“Two thousand is too much,” she whispered, her fingers finding their way to her lips. He watched her touch her mouth and his knuckles turned white as he clutched the knife harder.
“I’m making some pretty hard demands on you, Gianna. Two thousand a week seems more than fair for the inconvenience.” His words were clipped, and they deflated Gigi in a way she hadn’t thought possible.
“Can you even afford it?”
He pinned her with a hard glare, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Don’t worry about that. Two thousand is what we agreed on. I plan on honoring that whether you like it or not.” He continued cutting. “Now, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Okay?”
“Okay,” she replied weakly, her compliance plunging them into silence.
When she couldn’t stand the quiet any longer, she slid from the stool to go and get one of her textbooks. She curled up on the couch, Max still in her line of sight as she pretended to read. What they’d shared was like nothing she had ever felt before. She wanted to kiss him again. Hell, she wanted to do a lot more with him, but he clearly didn’t have the same desire as she did. He’d withdrawn from her completely, his frosty demeanour hurting her a lot more than she thought it would.
He glanced up at her a few times when he thought her eyes were on the book, and the look of disdain on his face was unmistakeable. The silence was cut when he began throwing the vegetables into the frying pan. The scent of onions and peppers filled the air, making Gigi’s stomach sit up and pay attention. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him as he attended the skillet, occasionally turning things over in the pan. His broad back was being hugged by a white t-shirt, and she suddenly wished she was that stretch of cotton. Was that weird? Argh, who knew? All she and her libido knew was that they wanted more of Max. Sighing, she forced her eyes to read and her brain to store the information she needed from her textbook.
“It’s ready,” he announced suddenly, cutting through the tension. Gigi looked up from her book. He was setting two plates on to the counter, along with some cutlery and paper napkins. Sliding the book from her knee, she stood up and walked towards Max, who was watching her every step.
“Thank you,” she said as she sat down. Leaning down, she inhaled the delicious scent. He grunted a reply and sat beside her, their thighs brushing briefly. He stiffened from the contact, and she held her breath. She could practically taste her pulse in the back of her throat. She hated how tensely he held himself, like he didn’t want to accidently touch her again. “Can we talk about what just happened?” she found herself asking.
Max went still, his knife and fork poised over his omelette. “I’d rather not,” he replied.
“Please? I just want to clear the air.”
Placing down his cutlery, he looked at her. He was running his tongue along the front of his teeth, and she couldn’t tell whether it was because of anger or something else. “What happened was a mistake—a lapse in judgement and sanity. I apologize. We need to keep our relationship professional, especially since you’ll be living here.”
They were not the words Gigi had wanted to hear, but what could she do? She had to play by Max’s rules. This was his place, his child, his job to give. Even though it hurt to agree to his terms, she nodded. “Of course.” She kept her voice carefully devoid of any emotions, not wanting him to know just how much he had wounded her. It never would have worked out anyway. He was still grieving for the loss of his wife. He was also four years older than her—not that that bothered her— but perhaps it bothered him.
They finished lunch in silence. When they were done, he stood up and took her plate, placing it in the sink, and began washing up. She watched him for a moment before sliding from the stool and returning to her room.
Chapter 17
Max had watched Gigi leave the kitchen, her head hanging low and her eyes on the ground. Christ, what a fucking idiot he’d been. He wasn’t angry at himself for the kiss; that kiss was amazing. He was pissed off that he’d handled what happened after it so badly. The whole time he’d been saying the words to her, in his head, he was saying the opposite. Okay, so it may have been inappropriate considering she was now his employee, but saying it was a mistake was so far from the truth. The feel of her soft lips against his only confirmed
what he’d thought kissing her would be like.
Perfection.
When she’d reached out and touched him, a jolt of electricity surged through his body like he’d been plugged into the electrical mains. It made his blood boil, it made his cock stir. He had to see whether she would react to him, and when her eyes had dipped to his mouth, he knew. Functioning on autopilot, he’d rounded the bench and got up in her personal space. The scent of her shampoo was somehow hard-wired to his cock because his erection began to strain against the fly of his jeans. It had actually hurt, but he welcomed the pain, hoping it would calm the damn thing down.
Although he knew he shouldn’t have, he simply couldn’t stop himself. He’d leaned down and claimed what he’d wanted since pretty much the first time they’d met. She hadn’t reacted at first—she was just still—but then when he’d coaxed her mouth open with his tongue, she gave everything up to him. He was getting lost in a tactile ocean of Gigi, and that was the problem. He remembered a time when he had gotten lost in Chelsea, had given everything to her, and look where that had gotten him.
He’d broken off the kiss out of fear. Even though she felt nothing like Chelsea, looked nothing like her, she was making him feel like Chelsea had made him feel in the beginning. When he looked up from doing the dishes, Gigi was gone. Checking down the hallway, he saw that her bedroom door was shut. He guessed he should have been happy with himself. He had wanted to stop anything more from happening, and he’d achieved that by driving her away…but why did he feel like shit for doing it?
He stood there staring at her room, his hands balled into fists at his side. He wanted to go in there and tell her he was being a dick because he’d been screwed over, but before he could move a foot, his phone rang. It was his mom.
“Hi, Mom,” he said, retreating back to the kitchen and his sanity.
“Hi, Max. I’ve got some good news.”
“Is it about Dad?”
“They’ve given him the all clear to recuperate at home. I’m trying to convince him to come back to LA with me so I can keep an eye on him.”