Cherishing Her: A Protector Office Romance Page 9

  We might not have been intimate but that didn’t mean he wasn’t declaring to the world at large that I was his.

  A thought process that never failed to heat me up from the inside out.

  Releasing another breath, this one shuddery, I tried to quench the way that fire in my core had started to flicker out of control.

  “This is true,” he told me, pursing his lips in recognition of the truth in my words. “What if I’d had a meeting?”

  My lips twitched. “Then I could have asked on the way home.”

  He insisted Mackenzie took me back to my place, and considering I lived where I did? Yeah, I wasn’t going to turn that offer down even if it was excessive.

  Over these past few months, I’d come to learn what it was to feel safe again. He made me feel that way, and I would always be grateful to him for that.

  So, so grateful.

  “Okay, I’ll let you off the hook.”

  I grinned up at him, but the truth was, I knew I’d have ended up asking him to go with me, but I’d been putting it off. It was going to be embarrassing as hell, but at the same time, I wanted to endure it with him at my side.

  Not fair for him, not exactly. But he didn’t seem to mind.

  “I’m glad. I really didn’t mean to hurt you; I was just…” I shrugged. “Putting it to the back of my mind, I guess.”

  “Why don’t you get on with your folks?”

  “They don’t understand me anymore.” I flicked Derek a look, then stared up at Max, trying to tell him, wordlessly, why that was.

  From the immediate scowl that lined his brow, I knew the message had hit home. He rubbed his chin, then jerked it upward. “Come into my office a second.”

  I sighed. “No. It’s okay, Max. I’ll tell you later. I have work to do.”

  “Oh, the irony. The assistant telling the boss she has to work,” Derek grumbled. “Because, the boss also needs to be reminded that he has a to-do list the size of Everest.”

  Max didn’t look at him, just flipped him the bird. I laughed and shot Derek an amused smile. He didn’t return it, but I saw the twinkle in his eye before he reverted his attention to his computer.

  Derek didn’t particularly like me.

  I wasn’t entirely sure why, but he hadn’t softened in all these months even though I knew, point blank, that I made Max happy. I thought Derek knew that too, but it didn’t make him cut me some slack. He was Max’s PA but he was also one of Max’s closest friends. They’d met, from what I’d managed to discern, because Alex, another of Max’s friends, had been on the same team at college. They’d grown close, close enough that Max had stayed at Alex’s house during summer vacation and spring break and the like, and as a result, had grown close to Derek who was only a year younger than both men.

  Why he was still being a douche with me, even if that level of doucheness was softcore in comparison to the pricks I’ve handled in my lifetime, I wasn’t sure.

  Did he think I was going to hurt Max?

  Did he think I was taking advantage of him?

  I really hoped not; because taking advantage of Max wasn’t something I’d ever want to do. Aside from in the bedroom, that is.

  I was totally going to take advantage of him there.

  Sucking down air in the vain hope it would quench the wildfire going on in my panties, I shot Max a strained look which had his eyes narrowing on me. “We’ll talk later,” I repeated. “Now, go on. Shoo. I have things to do.”

  That narrow-eyed look was replaced with an amused smirk—he liked that I didn’t kowtow to him. Found it amusing that after my initial wariness around him, my brassy, ballsy self had returned, flickering to life like that whole episode with Nida had happened.

  Because that was something else I was loving about being with Max. I was the old Jessica again. Or at least, a damn good carbon copy.

  It was like being handed the best gift on a platter. Even better than the Cirque tickets I shoved in my desk drawer.

  Around him, I wasn’t scared or vulnerable or timid.

  I was strong, fierce.

  He made me that, made me feel invincible again. I didn’t know why, but I’d kiss his damn feet for making me feel like this once more.

  With a cocky grin, Max got to his feet, and surprised me by leaning over the desk and pressing a kiss to my lips.

  I froze, not out of fear, but in shock.

  He’d never done that before.

  Never.

  And if I’d expected him to do it, I would never have expected him to do it in front of Derek who immediately cleared his throat.

  But I ignored the faint noise, focused instead on the tenderness of his lips as he coaxed mine apart and I felt his tongue meet mine. I released a shaky breath, one that seemed to take the starch from my bones and had me sagging a little even as I tilted my head to accept more of his kiss.

  I was used to the very brief kisses we’d shared and to the feel of his lips rubbing against my cheek, my forehead. He’d even kissed my closed eyelids once when he’d thought I was awake but was just dozing. He rubbed his chin over my jaw, would even touch his nose to mine. I was used to holding his hand, or to having one of his hands somewhere on my body; constantly connecting the pair of us.

  But this?

  An extended kiss?

  That he initiated, rather than me?

  Yeah, the fire down below turned into a conflagration.

  I had to fight back the urge to moan, but only because Derek was there. A silent but very aware witness.

  Instead, I reached up, letting my fingers splay across the back of Max’s neck. I let them trace through the silky black hair that I’d grown used to brushing off his brow these past few months, and it was only then that I realized how intimate we’d been without ever taking it X-rated.

  I was used to his touch.

  So accustomed to it that it was as easy as breathing now.

  Just like I was well at ease with touching him in return. I knew the feel of his stubble against my fingers on a morning, and his hair, the onyx locks, I knew the tickle of it against my forehead. I’d squeezed his biceps more times than I could count, sometimes to tease him about how damn big he was, but mostly, out of excitement, out of a need to share my glee over something. I felt no compunction about grabbing his hand out of the blue, squeezing his fingers with mine.

  It shouldn’t have been a revelation, but it was, and it had me pressing down on the back of his neck to make sure he didn’t move. When he speared his tongue against my own, I knew he’d received the message.

  Loud and clear.

  He fluttered his carefully along my own, and I let him. I’d been so long out of this game that I was a little unsure of myself, and was grateful he was willing to take pointe on this. He tilted his head for better access and this time, I did moan when he began to sup from me, dragging up feelings I’d thought were dead and buried for life.

  “For crying out loud, why don’t you two just get a room?”

  My eyes flared wide at that and I pulled back at Derek’s snark. My cheeks burned a hot pink, but Max, though he let me go, didn’t really react. His eyes were heavy lidded, and I saw, in those crystalline depths, the promise of more.

  More.

  I wanted so much more.

  I wanted everything that promise offered me. From him though, only him.

  “Stop being a prick, Derek,” he told one of his best friends and PA, his tone gravelly but without much heat.

  “Don’t ask too much from him,” I said, my voice just as hoarse. “It’s too hard to go totally against the grain, Max.”

  For a second, silence fell, then Max barked out a laugh and his head whipped around to pin Derek with a stare. “She’s got you there, bud.”

  I was surprised when Derek just snorted, but I could see he was amused.

  My cheeks burned a little hotter, but this was something else Max had uncovered.

  My snarky sense of humor.

  It had been buried for so long,
I’d almost forgotten it had existed. But around him, hidden facets of my character were stirring once more.

  I know the feminists would say that a woman didn’t need anything from a man. And while I agreed to a certain extent, I would have tempered that belief with; a woman didn’t need anything from a man unless he was willing to need her too.

  And Max did need me.

  Just as he unearthed aspects of my nature, I did the same with him.

  I knew that.

  Knew it because Mackenzie would smile at me in a way that was almost fatherly when I had Max laughing so hard he was almost choking on his guffaws—the old man was pleased to see Max so relaxed and happy.

  I knew from how Alex’s eyes, and Derek’s too, would sparkle when I teased Max, or when I’d call him on his bullshit.

  If he brought something to my life, then I did the same for him.

  It was equal. Fair.

  I watched as Max clambered to his feet. While he was suave and debonair, especially in his tailored suits, he was so big, that sometimes, it was like watching a bear move around. Especially when he did things that weren’t so suave. When I’d seen him on horseback? Shit, I’d wondered how the horse would take his weight. And when Mackenzie had scrummaged around for some old footage of Max playing? Jeez, he’d been even bigger!

  Before he headed to his office, he bent down and pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. I tilted my face up to smile at him, loving when he winked at me before heading over to Derek’s desk.

  “Come on, Grumpy, let’s get some of that to-do list halved. I have a date tonight.”

  The satisfaction in his tone had my heart squeezing. If I was head over heels for this man, then I knew he was in over his head with me too.

  The day passed surprisingly quickly

  But maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise considering when you wanted time to slip between your fingers, it never did, and when you wanted something to never happen, then it usually knocked on your doors hours before you expected it.

  The last place I wanted to go tonight was home, and yet, I found myself tucked beside Max in his car as Mackenzie drove us to the suburbs where my parents lived.

  “Want to know something weird?” he asked, his arm around my shoulder.

  I nestled deeper into his side, trying to get as close as I could. Maybe because I wanted the support before I came face to face with my mom again, or maybe because being this close wasn’t close enough.

  “What?” I murmured, my eyes on the red lights ahead of us. Traffic was back to back and we were going to be late getting to the house.

  Great, just something else for my mother to whine about.

  “I thought your folks were dead.”

  That had me stiffening. “Huh?” I peered up at him. “Why?”

  “You never talk about them. Ever.” He shrugged, looked down at me even though I knew he wouldn’t be able to see anything with my features cast in the shadows of night. “I just thought it was a touchy subject so they’d passed or something.”

  Guilt throbbed through me.

  Did I really talk about them so little?

  A thought occurred to me. “You know you can ask me anything you want, right?”

  That had him blinking. “What like?” he asked, cautiously.

  “Anything except his name,” I told him drily, finding myself amused when his features darkened. Somehow, knowing he was my champion when I’d never had one before, made things so much better. Made the load half the size. “Aside from that, yeah, I’m an open book to you.”

  “Thank you. I think.”

  “Why the ‘I think’?” I asked, still amused.

  “Because I thought you were anyway.” He shrugged. “If I want to ask you something, you always answer.”

  I sighed; he could be so literal sometimes. “I didn’t mean if you asked me if I want a glass of wine and I said yes.”

  “Oh.” He pondered that a second. “I see.”

  “Do you?” I wondered. This man was so damn smart sometimes; he seriously made the most boring things so funny because he saw the world differently. I liked how skewed it was, even if I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate knowing that.

  “I think I do.” He cleared his throat. “What should I expect tonight? The third degree?”

  “Probably,” I admitted with a grimace. “I’ve never brought anyone back to meet them before.”

  He stilled at that. “Before or after?”

  “That’s usually what ‘never’ means,” I replied wryly.

  “Why don’t you get on with them?”

  “We used to be close, then after, things changed.”

  “Why?”

  “Mom didn’t… She believed me, don’t get me wrong. She just expected me to get on with things, like nothing had happened at all. She couldn’t understand why I was depressed and distraught. And when I used to flinch, she said it put her on edge and made it so she couldn’t relax.” I pursed my lips at the memory of that conversation. Yeah, it hadn’t been a barrel of laughs. “I moved out in the end.”

  “You were still living at home?”

  “Uhhuh. Hence the new digs.”

  He wrinkled his nose, and I had to stifle a laugh. He’d made it known that he didn’t like my apartment building.

  “I’d have preferred for you to stay with your folks; even if it did put you an hour’s commute away.”

  My lips twitched. “Well, I couldn’t stand it in the end. I had to get out. It was liberating in itself just to be able to be sad without her judging me.”

  “Did she just expect you to be happy after what had happened?”

  “I don’t know. I think, in her mind, she thought I needed to get over it for my own sake. ‘There’s no point crying over spilled milk’, has to be one of her favorite mottos. She wanted me to move on, and I couldn’t. A part of me was stuck on that night, like a broken record, I guess.”

  He made a low sound in his throat, but it was Mackenzie who mumbled, “That stinks.”

  I blinked, but didn’t refute his comment.

  “I mean, I don’t know what happened on ‘this night’ you’re talking about, but it stinks that she wasn’t willing to support you. I’m sorry, Jessica.”

  “You don’t have to be, Mackenzie. But thank you.” I leaned forward, even though it meant moving away from Max’s delicious embrace, and patted him on the shoulder.

  “I’m really not looking forward to meeting them now.”

  Max’s low grumble had me snorting. “You’ll like my dad. He loves football. Especially college football. He says it’s where they sort the wheat from the chaff.”

  “Isn’t that what the NFL draught is about?” he retorted, amused.

  I shrugged. “It’s just what he always says.”

  “Was he like your mom?”

  “No, but we’ve never been that close. In his defense, he works a lot. My mom doesn’t, so he’s the breadwinner. I never really got a chance to be close to him.”

  He nodded, but I knew he was feigning understanding. Even though Max’s view of the world was skewed, certain things had priorities. Things like family. Even if he worked twenty hours a day, I knew he’d make time for his children. He was like that.

  So absent minded in some ways, and yet, so aware and smart in others.

  “Is that why you have the debts? They couldn’t afford to help you pay?”

  I whistled out a breath. “They’re huge debts. His legal team was lavish, they cost him a lot, and ultimately the costs got put on me since he won.”

  I’d probably still be paying them until I was near retirement; that and my student loans. Great.

  “Bastard.”

  He falls into a silence that I knew I’d be wise to maintain. He hasn’t pressured me about Nida’s name, but I’m aware that with each passing day, and the closer we become, a part of him gets angrier about my treatment at Nida’s hands.

  That was probably another reason why I hadn’t been psyched about inviti
ng him over to my parents’ place. I knew there would be some conversations that wouldn’t exactly be comfortable.

  When we pull off the freeway, finally getting out of the gridlock that was traffic—there must have been an accident for there to have been so much of it at this time of night—I saw the entrance to the suburb and slinked down in my seat.

  I really didn’t want to come here tonight. I’d have preferred to go to a restaurant somewhere in the city with Max. But this was tradition, and my mom would have hounded me if I hadn’t come.

  She calls me twice a week, and I know she would like me to visit more but I just don’t have it in me to come around more often.

  I go once a month and on special occasions. It’s enough for me, but not for her.

  I get that though. We were close before, and she wants that back but my trust in her has been destroyed, I guess. We’ll never be close again because I just can’t forgive her for expecting me to get on with life, for not allowing me to mourn and to react after what had happened to me.

  Two years on, only Max has done what therapy couldn’t.

  I finally felt like I was moving on. Because of him.

  When we pull up outside my parents four bedroom house, I hide a smile at how cookie cutter the place is. Each house is almost identical to the next one, and the only differences can be found in the cars outside the properties and the furniture in the yard. From a swing set to a bench, they’re the only identifying markers.

  I hate my building, don’t get me wrong, but a part of me would die if I had to live here for the rest of my life. This was my childhood home but I was grateful it wouldn’t be my adult home anymore.

  When Max and I walk toward the front door, I wince when it opens and we’re still twenty feet away.

  She was waiting on us.

  The excitement on her face wasn’t there just because she’s psyched to see me either. It’s because Max was there too.

  “Jessica! Happy Birthday, darling!” she cries, stepping out into the cold, wintry night in nothing more than a pair of slacks and a thin sweater.

  She shivers even as she hugs me, and I hug her back. Even if she hadn’t been there for me when I needed her most, I love her.