Max

by Sawyer Bennett

  While Stella helps me try on the dress, Stevie gets on his phone and I hear him say, "I have a hair and makeup emergency."

  Slight pause, then, "Not for me but for a dear friend."

  Another slight pause. "We'll be there in twenty minutes."

  By the time I get the dress on--which is beyond phenomenal, with a cut-out halter top with thin straps that crisscross over my upper back but leave the rest bare until you get down to my hips, where the material drapes almost indecently low while still looking elegant--Stevie's thrusting a pair of bronze-colored strappy high-heeled sandals to try on.

  Another twenty minutes go by and my dress and shoes are paid for--which I got for a steal since they were on consignment--and I'm sitting in a hair salon that is located right next door to Stella's shop.

  More air kisses, after which Stevie consults with the stylist--a plump woman named Moe--and it's decided I need an updo with lots of wavy curls.

  More air kisses with the makeup artist--a man named Antonio, with a mass of dark curly hair in disarray all around his face--and it's decided I need dark smoky eyes but coral blush and lip stain.

  After I'm primped, powdered, and otherwise glammed from my shoulders up, Stevie instructs me to take my car home and follows me in his delivery van, which is painted bright purple to match the front door of his flower shop.

  From there it's straight into my dress and strappy shoes, after which all three of the kids watch as Stevie does some last minute evaluation of my look, adjusts a curl that came loose in my hair, and shoves lip gloss at me to put a final layer on.

  When I was done, he had me twirl around for a final look-see, at which all three of the kids clapped and cheered their approval. Tina graciously agreed to stay for another hour so Stevie could spare me a cab ride and take me to the gala, which was in downtown Raleigh at the Convention Center.

  He pulled right up to the curb, and because the gala had started more than half an hour ago, there was no one outside. No long line of limos waiting to expel celebrities and no paparazzi and their flashing cameras.

  Just me--Jules turned Cinderella--stepping out of Stevie's purple van with my heart racing and my palms sweating. I turn and lean back on the passenger door briefly as Stevie grins at me.

  "Thank you," I tell him sincerely. "For not only helping me put my head on straight, but for making me feel like a princess tonight."

  Stevie shakes his head. "I just helped get you dressed. Max is the one who will make you feel like a princess."

  I take a deep breath, let it out.

  "God, I hope so," I tell him as I shut the door and turn to walk into the Convention Center.

  "These things are such a drag," Hawke says as he tugs on his bow tie, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

  "Bet you wouldn't be saying that if Vale was your date instead of me," I say with a chuckle.

  "That is absolutely true," Hawke agrees with a laugh.

  And I'm pleased to hear my friend has an easy, spirited laugh again.

  That's because while we were in between the Ottawa and Montreal games this week, Hawke paid a surprise visit to Sydney, Nova Scotia. It was under the appearance of visiting his billet family--that is, the family that housed Hawke while he was playing major junior hockey in Sydney.

  That truly may have been his intended mission, but I know damn well it was so he could check up on Vale. And the checkup proved fruitful, because they're back together again.

  Except not in the literal sense, as she's supposed to be starting a new job at The Ohio State University in a few weeks.

  "This long-distance relationship stuff sucks," Hawke grumbles, as if he were reading my mind. I'd almost agree with him, except he at least now has a solid relationship back on track, whereas I have no fucking clue what's going on with me and Jules.

  "It's only temporary," I remind him. Apparently, Vale is going to try to find a job back in the Raleigh area as soon as she can. "So suck it up."

  "Just like you're doing?" Hawke asks with a sly grin.

  "Just like me," I agree as I survey the crowd. It's a hodgepodge of sports celebrities, state level politicians, and generally rich donors who will part ways with lots of money tonight.

  Because Jules asked for space and I'm giving it to her. She texted me a few times this week, and while I responded, I kept my feelings dialed way the fuck in. So yeah...I'm sucking it up and giving her what she says she needs, with nothing but the hope that when she finally works things out in her head, she'll realize she needs me in her life.

  "You should just go see her tonight," Hawke says, and my head snaps his way.

  "Just go see her?" I ask with an arched eyebrow.

  "Yeah, why not?" Hawke asks, and before I can give him a million reasons to answer his question, he adds on, "She did say she just wanted to slow things down, right? I take that to mean she still wants to see you."

  Well, yeah...she did say that, but I'm not exactly sure it's what she meant. She insisted it wasn't a breakup and she just wanted to slow things a bit. But fuck that. I'm a guy who doesn't slow down. When I know something is good for me and I want it, I go forward with guns blazing until I get what I want.

  It's fucking killing me to not just barrel my way into Jules' apartment and physically kidnap her and the kids so I can move them into my house.

  Shaking my head, I look back around the ballroom as I mutter, "I don't think Jules would appreciate me just dropping by."

  "I think she would," Hawke counters.

  I snort. "That's just because you got your girl back and you've got all these silly ideals in your head."

  "Maybe so," Hawke says affably. "But I still think you should push a little."

  I'm shaking my head before he even gets the words all the way out. I turn to face him, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Jules isn't the type of woman you push. She likes to find her own way. She's independent and stubborn, but she's also smart and reasonable. I've got to let her figure this out on her own. It's the only way really."

  "I get that line of reasoning," Hawke continues to pester me. "But if you stay away, she might forget all about you. Absence doesn't always make the heart grow fonder."

  My stomach flips at the thought. Would she fucking forget about me now that I'm making myself scarce? Would she just move on with her life and figure that she can do things on her own, why in the hell would she ever need me?

  A panicky feeling starts to claw at my insides. "Maybe I'll go see her tomorrow."

  Hawke's eyes brighten and he nods effusively at me. "That's the spirit. So what's the first thing you'll tell her when you see her tomorrow?"

  Fuck...I'd have a million things to say, all of them important, but there is one that stands out.

  With a casual shrug I tell him, "Only thing that really matters...and that's to just simply tell her I'm madly, crazy, head over heels in love with her and I'm ready for her when she makes that same commitment."

  Hawke gets this shit-eating grin on his face and then gives a subtle nod at something over my right shoulder. "Well, now's your chance, brother."

  "What?" I ask as I turn around, and even though the ballroom is crowded, I immediately spot Jules walking in through the main double doors.

  My jaw drops as I take her in, first because I'm utterly blown away that she came, and second because she's a fucking knockout in that dress. It hugs her body and exposes her graceful shoulders, and when she walks there's a slit in the front that gives me a peek of her leg up to right above her knee.

  She doesn't see me but she's looking around, clearly on the hunt.

  Hawke claps a hand on my shoulder, but I hardly pay him notice when he gives me a tiny shove her way and says, "Go get her, tiger."

  My legs start moving, weaving my way in and out of the guests, some wanting to shake my hand and others wanting to pose for pictures. That's why we're here...to make it worthwhile for people to open their wallets for charity.

  But I brush people off with a firm but polite, "I'll be back.
There's something I need to do."

  When I'm halfway to Jules, I see her gaze focuses in on something to my left and I turn to see Allie and Cassie standing there talking. The way their heads are tilted toward each other and by the looks on their faces I can tell they're engaged in some catty gossip.

  Then I'm absolutely stunned as Jules squares her shoulders and starts to walk their way.

  Whoa, fuck!

  I turn that way too, hoping to cut her off because no way in hell am I going to let those two get into Jules' head any further.

  Unfortunately, she beats me there by just a few strides and I watch as Allie and Cassie turn their heads to Jules as she walks right up to them. Both have their lips practically curled into sneers and I feel my hands start to clench into frustrated fists of aggression.

  But just as I get to within five feet of Jules, I hear her say, "Allie...Cassie...you both look very lovely tonight."

  Both women sort of jerk in place, their eyebrows shooting upward and their mouths hanging slightly open.

  Jules then gives a little twirl in place and waves one hand down the length of her body to direct their attention to her stunning dress and comes out of her spin facing them. "And don't I look lovely tonight too? I actually feel just like Cinderella."

  They say nothing.

  "Now, if you'll excuse me, ladies, I'm off to go find my prince. Have a great night," she says and gives them a regal incline of her head.

  Princess?

  How about a queen?

  Jules turns my way and barrels straight into me, which is completely fine. She gives a gasp of surprise as my hands come to her upper arms to steady her and her eyes travel slowly up until they lock on mine.

  "There you are," she breathes out softly.

  "Your prince?" I ask.

  "The one and only," she murmurs back.

  And yeah...so I go ahead and kiss her, because what else should be said?

  Except when I pull my mouth from hers and take in her sweet sigh of contentment, I tell her what should have been my first words. "I love you, Jules. Madly. Head over heels. Crazy, crazy love."

  Her eyes seem to glow with that shade of light amber that I love, which tells me she really, really likes what I just said to her. "I love you too, Max. So much."

  She opens her mouth to say something else but then abruptly looks to her left. I do the same and see Allie and Cassie still standing there, mouths agape as they watch us. Jules turns, dislodges my hand from her arm and then tucks her arm in the crook of mine. She starts walking through the ballroom and I follow along, loving the way she feels beside me.

  Relishing the looks of appreciation she gets from some of the men.

  Secretly even loving some of the jealous looks of other women.

  When we reach the opposite side of the ballroom and find a space not occupied by people mingling and chatting, she turns to me, taking both my hands in hers. Her face tilts up and her eyes are apologetic. "I'm sorry, Max."

  I try to cut her off with a shake of my head but her hands squeeze mine, a silent indication she wants me to listen and that, more importantly, I need to listen.

  So I listen.

  "I'm sorry," she begins again. "I love you so much and I've acted like such a fool."

  "You're a cute fool though," I say, only to lighten things up because she looks so seriously disappointed in herself.

  I'm rewarded with a little bit of a smile as she continues on. "Here you were...an amazing man that came into my life and swept me off my feet. You were always bucking me up and telling me how strong I was, and I believed you. I believed every bit of faith you placed in me and that changed my life. And then...I got all up inside my head and ended up doing the exact opposite of what you believed about me."

  "You had a moment of doubt," I say softly.

  "No," she says with an almost violent shake of her head, but then gives me a sheepish smile. "Okay, yes...a little doubt. In myself, and whether or not I deserved someone like you. But never doubt in you. Not really even in us as a whole. I guess I prefer to think that I just had a moment of stupidity."

  I can't help it. I bust out laughing, and because she's so fucking adorable, I tug her into me so I can wrap my arms around her. She reciprocates, but tilts her head back so she can keep looking up at me.

  "Seriously, Max. Just plain stupidity," she insists.

  "Okay. I believe you," I tell her, only so she'll let that part go. My girl is far from stupid. Maybe silly and a little susceptible to her emotions, but never stupid.

  "I'm strong, Max," she murmurs as she looks up at me. "I'm strong and I'm not going to let anyone get me down or get in my way of being with you."

  "I hear you, baby," I tell her.

  "I am never going to be put off by what people think about me," she asserts more definitively, as if she's desperate for me to understand that she's all in. "And I'm never going to not be by your side. I'll be at every damn game that I can and I'll proudly be by your side for every charity event, or whatever else you famous people do."

  Chuckling, I give her a squeeze. "That's nice, Jules. All of what you said. Just really nice. But you're leaving out the most important thing."

  She rolls her eyes at me and leans back farther to level me with a bit of a stern look. "I was getting to the good part if you'd just have a little patience."

  I incline my head in apology. "My bad."

  She huffs out a breath of annoyance but her eyes show anything but. They're warm and vibrant and full of emotion. "I love you, Max," she says softly. "Just like you...it's madly. It's crazy, crazy. It's head over heels, tumbling further and further into it with you, but I am ready for every bit of dizziness that comes with it. I want it all, Max, but mostly I just want you."

  Yeah...that right there.

  That punch of elation hitting me square in the chest, taking hold of my heart, squeezing it almost painfully for just a moment before it starts to fill up with this feeling of joy and completeness.

  That's a feeling I can get used to.

  It's a feeling I don't ever want to do without, and now I'm hearing it straight from Jules...she doesn't want to do without it again either.

  "Sounds like we're finally on the same page, baby," I murmur as I release my hold and move my hands to her face. Her own hands come up to lock around my wrists, holding me firm as she looks at me with shimmering eyes.

  "We are so on the same page," she affirms softly, and then adds, "And Stevie's watching the kids tonight so I'm all yours until tomorrow morning."

  I shake my head with an amused smile. "Uh-uh. You're mine forever."

  She smiles at me...bright and brilliant and full of love. "My bad. I am absolutely yours forever."

  One week later. Christmas Eve...

  "We should have gone tonight," I tell Max as I burrow into his side on the couch. All the lights are off and there's nothing but the glow of the Christmas tree by which we can see. His left arm wraps around me and gives me a squeeze.

  "No way in hell we should have gone," he says. His voice is low and mellow and oh so very happy. "This is how I want to spend Christmas Eve."

  We skipped the traditional Christmas party at Brian Brannon's house, owner of the Cold Fury. It's not a mandatory party, from what Max says, and it sounds super fun, also from what Max says, but when it came right down to it...he wanted a more traditional evening.

  That included bringing me and the kids to his house, where we found the space under the Christmas tree--which we'd put up just two days ago--filled with brightly wrapped presents. The evening included a meal I'd cooked, including a ham, sweet potatoes, a corn souffle, and a tourtiere I made just for Max, using his mother's recipe. After, we watched A Christmas Story with the kids, and before they went to bed, we let them each open one gift.

  After that, Max and I waited a sufficient amount of time for the kids to settle down, and with a quick peek inside each of their rooms, where we'd put them to bed, we both went a little nuts laying out the gifts fro
m "Santa."

  We overbought, no doubt. It had everything to do with the fact it was their first Christmas without Melody. Max bought a ton of stuff and I didn't even argue with him at all about it. I also bought a ton of stuff, depleting my savings account, but...oh well. I was happy and in love and I had amazing kids. This Christmas was going to rock!

  Now as we're settled onto his couch and looking at the obscene number of toys under the tree, I'm just really glad we didn't go to Brian Brannon's party tonight, but rather celebrated privately our first Christmas together.

  "Want to make out?" Max asks seriously, his hand sliding from my arm down to my hip.

  "Of course I want to make out," I tell him as if that was the most stupid question in the world, because when don't I want to make out with Max?

  With a low chuckle he hauls me onto his lap, positions me sideways, and then his mouth is on mine.

  God, that just gets better and better.

  This kiss is deep and passionate, and later we'll let it turn into a bit more before we go to sleep. But for now it's brief and I'm satisfied even as he pulls away and rests his cheek against mine so we can both look at the tree a little bit more.

  "I can't wait for tomorrow," I murmur as I stare at the glowing lights.

  Max gives me a squeeze. "They're going to flip out when they see the presents."

  Yeah, they are.

  I can't wait.

  Three weeks later...

  "This is the last one," Hawke says as he waddles in with a monstrous box housing all of my art supplies. "Where do you want it?"

  "Sunroom," I say as I turn to point to the large glassed-in room just off the den area. My intent was to just set my stuff up in the basement somewhere but Max wouldn't hear of it. He said something about an artist needs natural light.

  I started to argue with him because I didn't want to take over the sunroom. It was a beautiful place and didn't need my paints and brushes all around. But Max wouldn't engage with my argument and sort of put his foot down.

  I kinda, sorta gave in very quickly, and let's just say...I'm learning when to be stubborn and when to let Max get a little alpha on me.

  Which is kind of hot.

  Hawke walks to the sunroom and unloads his burden, then immediately heads to the kitchen to pull a beer out of the fridge. He mutters, "Not sure how I got unloading duty."