by K. A Knight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Maximus
I slap Scarlett’s ass softly, knowing it must be sore. “Go get washed and dressed, I’ll answer the door,” I offer, kissing her again as Nadia and Milo have an argument through the door.
Waking up with her in my arms, with her kissing me and telling me she loves me, feels like a dream. One too good to be true, I always thought I wasn’t good enough to deserve these things, to even hope for a life like this, and now that I have it, I’m never giving it back—even if I’m not good enough.
She nods before slipping from the bed and padding naked to the bathroom, her swinging hips making me groan. That woman is too fucking sexy to be real, even without meaning to be, but when she reaches the door and winks back at me, I know she knows what she’s doing.
That fucking minx, next time I’ll spank her harder.
“Don’t forget to put on pants!” she calls, before she closes the door.
Forcing myself from the bed, I quickly make it then slip back into my clothes and head to the front door. Unengaging the security system and locks, I swing it open to see an angry-looking Nadia who doesn’t even glance at me.
“Thank fuck, what were you doing? Do you know how heavy—” She stops then, her eyes widening on my chest as it runs up my body to meet my eyes. “You’re not Scarlett,” she blurts.
“True.” I grin, leaning against the doorframe. “You were saying something about being heavy? Need a hand?”
“Scarlett! He hasn’t murdered you, has he?” she hollers, pushing past me. Milo bounds to her, wagging his tail, and she stops, her eyes going wide as she drops to the floor.
“Hi, buddy, oh my God, look how cute you got, yes you did,” she whispers, kissing his face and making him wiggle in happiness.
“Well, if I did, it seems my secret weapon would distract you long enough,” I deadpan, shutting the door and moving to the kitchen. I put on the kettle, knowing Scarlett will want a coffee. “Coffee?” I offer Nadia.
“Please, so where’s Scar?” she inquires, kissing Milo once more before forcing herself to her feet.
“Bathroom, she won’t be long,” I answer, busying myself with making the drinks. I was right. Before the kettle is boiled, Scarlett steps into the room, grinning at Nadia before she comes and drops a kiss on my cheek, grabbing the coffee I hold out to her.
“Erm, someone want to catch me up?” Nadia says, and Scarlett winks at me before joining her friend in the living room. I can hear them whispering, so I stay in here for a bit, letting them catch each other up before I grab the coffees and step into the room. Scarlett smiles over at me, but Nadia looks concerned. I pass her the coffee and she nods as I sit next to Scarlett, my arm going around the back of the sofa and pulling her into my side as she sips at her coffee. Nadia watches it with a silent expression.
“I brought breakfast,” she finally says, and passes the bags over. “Good thing I brought extra bagels,” she mutters.
“Nads,” Scarlett warns, and her friend quiets, but throws me another look.
Seems she has something to say, but I don’t have to wait long. Scarlett asks me to bring the cream cheese so I get to my feet, drop a kiss on her head, and head to the kitchen with Nadia on my heels, throwing Scarlett an excuse about needing more sugar for her coffee.
Once in the kitchen, the tiny woman corners me, her dark eyes locking on mine, her face stern. She looks like an angry kitten, but I don’t dare tell her that. “Listen up, buddy, you hurt my girl again in any way and I will hunt you down and kill you. I don’t care if you’ve got skills, I’ve watched Taken, I can handle it. You understand me?” she snaps.
“You’ve watched Taken, got it,” I taunt, unable to help myself, and her eyes flash and her lips thin.
“I love that girl, she’s my fucking sister from another mister, she’s been through hell, and I want her safe and happy. You make her that, but you ever fuck up, you bet your big, lumberjack-looking motherfucking ass that I’ll rip you limb from limb and go all Vlad the Impaler on you, got it?”
“Er—I don’t think anyone got what you just said,” I reply, laughing, but then turn serious. “I got it, but Nadia, you should know, I love her and I’m never leaving her again. You’re her best friend, her sister from another mister,” I repeat painfully, “so I want us to get along, to be friends.”
She huffs, her eyes brightening. “Fine, but you have to teach me to shoot. I think it’d be cool as fuck.”
“Deal,” I tell her, as Scarlett pokes her head around the door, her eyebrows rising.
“Oh God, what chaos are you both causing?” she exclaims, and makes both Nadia and me laugh.
Nadia steps past me, patting Scarlett as she goes. “Just reminding him how vulnerable a man’s genitals are, sweetie. How do you like ball ornaments?”
We have breakfast together and Nadia is happier after threatening me, so she goes up in my opinion, since she’s clearly protective of Scarlett, which is good. I let them talk, joining in now and again, and I actually find myself enjoying Nadia’s company. She’s slightly crazy, foul-mouthed with no filter, but she’s funny.
“So, what are you love birds doing today besides making this place smell like a sex den?” Nadia asks out of the blue. She’s sitting on the floor now, playing tug of war with Milo.
Scarlett snorts out a laugh and I join in before turning serious. “Well, I was hoping Scarlett didn’t have to work today so she would come somewhere with me,” I hedge, before looking at Scarlett as nerves claw at my insides.
She seems confused but nods with a smile on her lips, and Nadia replies, “Ooo mysterious, cool. If you’re both going out on some weird sex trip, can I steal your dog for the day?” she asks, making us both laugh again.
“Sure, just don’t blame me when he starts sneaking through your window at night,” I tease.
“Awesome, stalker dog,” she grins, kissing Milo.
“Where are we going?” Scarlett inquires, and I wink at her.
“Secret, once you both finish, get your beautiful self washed and dressed. I’ll go shower so you can have girl time,” I tell her, kissing her as I get to my feet and head to the bathroom.
“You were right, he does have a nice ass,” I hear Nadia comment, making me shake my head. Who knew this is where my life would lead me?
I shower and get dressed in the bathroom, glad I brought my toothbrush and comb. When I’m just combing my beard, Scarlett opens the door.
“Nads left with Milo. I think she’s going to steal your dog,” she says and laughs.
“Ours,” I correct automatically, and she grins as she steps inside and strips, heading to the shower.
“Well, I don’t know about you, Mr. Hunt, but I’m feeling dirty. Want to wash me?” she offers, grinning at me over her shoulder as she steps into the cubicle, the glass showing me everything as the spray hits her chest and races down her body like a lover’s touch.
Fuck, am I jealous of water?
When your girl asks you to help wash her, you can damn sure bet you get your ass in that shower in under three seconds flat.
When we have washed, again, I get dressed and lie on her bed, watching as she searches through her clothes, having a mini meltdown.
“But, Max, what do I wear? Warm, dressy, semi-dressy?” she whines, and I laugh. Who knew women’s clothes where that complicated?
“Whatever you’re comfortable in,” I suggest.
“So not fancy, maybe jeans, no, dress,” she mutters to herself, and I find myself happy just to watch as she selects a long maxi dress, which is white with black diagonal stripes. It hugs her chest, showing off her amazing breasts, then it cinches in at the waist before flaring out to her feet. It moves as she walks, showing leg, making me almost bite my knuckles because she looks that fuckable and bloody delicious. When she adds some low black flats and looks at me, I jump from the bed, grab her waist, and dip her, kissing her hard.
“If we didn’t have to get going, you would be back
in that bed right now with my cock in your pussy,” I warn her, grinning as she smiles at me breathlessly.
She pats my chest. “Save that thought for later. I’m ready to go.”
Chapter Forty
Scarlett
Max refuses to tell me where we’re going, no, instead he led me to his car and buckled me in. We stopped for a cup of tea and some snacks before he drove onto the motorway. He plays with the radio, putting on a rock station, and sits back and drives, drumming his fingers against the wheel along with the music.
“Maaaaaax, tell me,” I beg, giving him puppy dog eyes. I’m really curious.
He grins over at me, reaching across and grabbing my hand before bringing it to his mouth and kissing my knuckles. Then he looks up at me over our hands, his dark eyes alight. “No,” he states, and drops my hand to grab the wheel again.
Huffing, I try to hide my smile as I sip my tea. It’s nice to see him this excited, this happy and mischievous…almost playful, so I let him have this secret. Instead, I grab my new phone—yes, I bought a new one. The old one was cracked and honestly, I had no intention of using it again. I have a new message from Nadia, and I open it to see it’s a picture of her and Milo sharing an ice cream, their faces pushed together.
I can’t help but laugh, and when I show Max, he laughs too. “You might be right about her stealing him,” he admits.
“Nah, at least we always have a babysitter though,” I reply as I text back, before putting my phone away and just concentrate on being here with him.
So many people fill the silence with social media and phones now, not paying attention to one another and the people they’re with. They don’t see the way it affects friendships and relationships, and I refuse to be that person.
We drive for a couple of hours when the sign proudly declares, “Trent.” The village is the type with only a few shops, pubs, and one post office. The kind where everyone knows each other and grew up here. The houses range from bungalows to big three stories with sprawling acres.
It’s cute, suburban, and very homey, not the type of place I would expect Max to visit. So why are we here?
I refrain from asking him once again, and when I spot him white knuckling the steering wheel, I realise he’s nervous.
Because of where we are or me?
I don’t know, instead, I take his mind off of it by talking, but his replies are clipped and distracted, so I soon stop.
When we pull up outside a suburban, semi-detached, two-story house with a long, paved driveway, apple trees in the front garden, and butterfly lights strung up along the flower bed, a sudden realisation hits me.
Max idles in the driveway, just staring at the house as I watch him. “This is where Milo’s family lives, isn’t it?”
Before he can answer, the white panelled front door opens, framing a middle-aged, slightly plump, friendly-looking woman with blonde hair cut into a bob with full fringe, in a long, black skirt and flowery blouse. It’s the eyes and smile though, I’ve seen them before. In the picture of Milo and Max.
This must be Milo’s mum, and suddenly I’m nervous. Very nervous. This woman loves Max, nearly raised him, and he loves her. What if she doesn’t like me? But when Max doesn’t move, despite her grinning and waving at him, I realise I need to push my own worries and insecurities to the side, because right now, he needs me. He needs me to be strong. This will be hard for him, and he brought me to the people he still thinks of as family.
“I’m right here, I’m here with you, Max, always. You can do this, and if you feel like you can’t, just look at me. Remember, no matter what, you always have me, Milo and me, your family,” I tell him, reaching across to grab his hand and twining our fingers together.
He glances at them before looking at me, searching my face, seeming to take strength from my touch. He blows out a breath and nods. “I can do this,” he whispers, before kissing my hand and letting go. He gets out of the car and I follow after him. He meets me around the front of the bonnet, takes my hand, and leads me up the drive to the waiting woman with the kind smile.
I resist the urge to fidget under her evaluating gaze, or pull at my dress nervously, instead, I clutch on to Max the way he’s tightly holding on to me. My rock, his rock, together. Always facing down whatever lies ahead with my hand in his, my strength his whenever he needs it.
We stop in front of her and she takes us in, her eyes dropping to our joined hands, and a strange smile curls up her lips before she looks at Max. “I’m so glad you came, sweetie. What? No hug?” she offers, her voice kind and her face smiling…are those tears in her eyes?
I push him forward and he embraces her, hard, as she wraps her arms around him, rubbing his back. “Don’t you blame yourself, sweetie, we never did. Now, why don’t you come inside for a drink and some biscuits?” She pulls back and looks at him, and he nods wordlessly. “Good, oh, and don’t stay away as long next time, young man,” she chides.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies with a smile, stepping back to my side. “Lydia, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Scarlett. Scarlett, this is Lydia, Milo’s mum.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I greet her, calmly holding out my hand, but inside I’m screaming.
Girlfriend?
Is that what I am? I guess it is. The thought makes me inexplicably happy. Lydia knocks my hand away. “In this family we hug,” she tells me, and grips me in a tight embrace, which is strong despite her stature. I hesitate before returning it. I’ve only ever really hugged Nadia. When she pulls back, she meets my gaze. “Welcome to the family,” she says, and I smile, loving this woman already.
“Thank you, tea and biscuits sound amazing,” I reply, and she grins again.
“Good, come in, come in, it’s cold out today,” she comments, bustling inside.
Max and I share an understanding smile, both of us not used to hugging, but in that look we explain we know how different it was for us. He grabs my hand again and leads me inside, shutting the door behind me as he kicks off his boots. I slip my shoes off and place them next to his on the wooden shoe rack hidden behind the front door.
The door leads to a small entryway with a shelf opposite the front door below an opaque glass window that looks into the living room. To the right is a doorway, with the door removed, and next to the window is a staircase leading upward.
Blue, striped carpet lines the floor, the walls are a pale grey, and a chandelier hangs down. It’s nice, a mix of modern and traditional. I feel comfortable already. As we head through the door, the carpet changes to hardwood flooring.
A big bay window is to the right with a comfy-looking, grey cushioned sofa under the window, and a large TV behind that playing a music channel. To the left is another large grey sofa, and on the back wall is a modern fireplace with a yellow rug underneath it, matching the yellow cushions thrown on the couch.
The room is long, with an archway in the middle, leading to an open-planned dining room with a big grey and wood table—shabby chic, I think it’s called—with at least eight chairs. Beyond that are two glass doors leading to what I can guess is a conservatory. To the left of the dining room is a kitchen, also long, clearly extended, and modern as hell, where Lydia is moving around making tea and plating biscuits for us.
A chirp of a bird has me jumping, and my eyes go to the two cages hidden in the corner of the dining room I didn’t spot before. My eyes go wide at having missed them. One is an African grey parrot. I remember seeing one in the pet shop when I bought Milo some new toys. Its steady eyes are locked on us as it swings in its cage. Next to it is a yellow bird, also watching us, and chirping away.
Birds freak me out, so I quickly look away, my eyes focusing on the large canvas prints hanging above the sofas. I step closer, smiling at the collage of pictures there. Lydia is in some, posing with other family members and friends. There’s the one of Max and Milo, but there are a few others as well. One at Christmas with Lydia, Max, Milo, and others all sitting around a table, wearing stup
id paper Christmas hats on their heads with their feet spread across the table.
There’s one of Max and Milo playing with a little girl, all laughing, and another of them hugging Lydia, with her in the middle, smiling brightly at the camera, and love shining in her eyes.
This is home for Max, I don’t think he even realised it. Lydia adopted him and she considers him a son, I bet it hurt when he left.
“I’ll go help her, get comfortable, baby, I won’t be more than a minute.” He kisses my head and then he’s gone.
I perch on the edge of the sofa, looking around once again. I wonder if she will accept me.
Chapter Forty-One
Maximus
I steal a biscuit off the plate Lydia’s filling, and grin when she smacks my hand away, eating it in the kitchen while Scarlett waits in the living room.
I forgot how much I love this place, the feeling here. I’d thought Milo’s ghost would be everywhere, but instead all I remember are the happy times. Christmases, birthdays, the BBQs, family get-togethers, and everything else, and I’m happy.
I’m glad Scarlett told me to come and I regret not visiting sooner.
“She’s lovely and so pretty,” Lydia whispers, and I grin at her.
“I know,” I reply, and then move closer, leaning against the counter. “I’m glad you like her.” She looks up then in question and I blow out a breath. “Because I’m going to marry that girl.”
Her mouth drops open as she sputters, and I sneak some biscuits and laugh as I back out of the room.
“Max!” she finally protests, but a smile breaks out over her face as I duck out of the kitchen, heading to George, the parrot, in the corner, and pass him some of the biscuit I stole through the bars of his cage.
“Don’t you be feeding him any biscuits, Maximus!” she hollers from the kitchen, and I laugh, winking at the bird as he grabs it with his talons and brings it to his mouth.