Authors: Toni Blake
Hotbed Honey (26 page)
"Does it hurt?" he asked of the wound.
She nodded. "A little. But I feel … validated, you know?" Her eyes sparkled. "Like a real P.I."
He sighed. "You were already a real P.I., Kimberly."
She gazed up at him, quiet and thoughtful. "Really, Max? Do you truly feel that way?"
He nodded. "Completely, babe. And you're damn good at your job."
A small smile graced her face. "Thank you."
* * *
Kimberly lay in the hospital bed, wanting to admire the bandages on her wound, but they were beneath the white gown she wore.
"Hey."
She looked up to find Max standing in the doorway bearing a vase of bright summer flowers. She was both happy and sad to see him. After a few hours apart, the very sight of him turned her to jelly, but she knew things would change now, that they'd go their separate ways.
"Hi," she said. "Pretty flowers."
"For a pretty lady," he said, setting them on the table next to the bed.
"Even now?" she asked, thinking of the scratches and scrapes on her forehead and chin.
"Even now," he said. "I'd go so far as to say always."
The words touched her, but for some reason, she played them off as teasing. "Always, huh? That's a pretty big step to take, Tate. Sure you're ready to go that far?"
"For you, babe," he teased her back, "I'd go anywhere."
Those words tugged at her heart, too, and she wished it wasn't all just playful banter.
"So tell me," she said, changing the subject, "what was the deal with Carlo? Who did he work for?"
"Turns out Dormer and Sons is a legitimate shipping business like you thought, or at least
partially
legitimate. Apparently, old man Dormer—the boss guy we had the displeasure of meeting—has had mob connections since he was young, but he didn't tie that part of his life in with his business until a couple of years ago when he quit turning much of a profit. His mob friends thought a shipping business would be a convenient way to smuggle stolen jewelry, so Dormer decided to give it a try. Apparently, the jewelry went to
New York
, where it was sold to stores and collectors from all over the world. The bulk of glassware that leaves the warehouse, though, is just that—glassware."
partially
legitimate. Apparently, old man Dormer—the boss guy we had the displeasure of meeting—has had mob connections since he was young, but he didn't tie that part of his life in with his business until a couple of years ago when he quit turning much of a profit. His mob friends thought a shipping business would be a convenient way to smuggle stolen jewelry, so Dormer decided to give it a try. Apparently, the jewelry went to
New York
, where it was sold to stores and collectors from all over the world. The bulk of glassware that leaves the warehouse, though, is just that—glassware."
"Wow," she said. "So we nabbed a major crook."
Max smiled and gave her a short nod.
"What about Carlo in specific?" Kimberly asked. "Where does he fit in?"
"He's one of about a dozen low-level guys Dormer hired to do his dirty work. Got into the business when his father—a wealthy playboy type, also with a few mob connections—died without leaving him a penny. Carlo's mistake, though, was his fascination with tying seduction in with thievery. It made his crimes stand out from the rest. Which was where we entered the picture.
"But enough about cops and robbers for today," Max concluded. "How are you feeling?"
"Good," she said. "A little tired, but not bad under the circumstances."
"I could use some rest myself," Max replied. "But I wanted to stop by and check on you first."
That was sweet, she thought.
But sweet was not love.
She knew the longer he was there, the sadder she would be when he finally left. Because just as she'd thought the last time they'd parted three years ago, this would be for good. "Well, I'm fine," she said. "So you're … free to go."
Next to her, Max hesitated. She peered into those dark, beautiful eyes of his and saw a tiny hint of indecision, but not much. Not enough to count.
"One more thing, Brandt," he said.
"What's that?"
"I want to tell you that I meant it earlier when I said you really were a good P.I. And I want to tell you, too, that I … forgive you."
This took her aback a little. "Forgive me?"
"For the Carpenter case. For the whole job thing."
She took a deep breath and said those teasing words again, but this time she meant them. "That's a pretty big step to take, Tate. Sure you're ready to go that far?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I am."
"Well … thank you, Max. That means a lot to me."
And it truly did, but Kimberly wanted so much more than that from him now. Yet the sad truth was, it just wasn't going to happen.
"You should go sleep," she managed to say.
Max gave a slight nod, then squeezed her hand in parting before walking out the door.
As a solitary tear rolled down Kimberly's cheek while she gazed at the empty doorway, she realized in a moment of startling clarity that she'd finally learned to read Max's eyes. And they'd just told her goodbye.
She might truly be tough inside, but where Max was concerned, she was as helpless as ever.
* * *
Max walked down the crisp white hospital corridor, thinking of getting in his car and going home and climbing into bed for a week. It sounded so easy, so restful. So …
oddly empty
. Where had that thought come from?
oddly empty
. Where had that thought come from?
When he really examined it, things started looking emptier and emptier with each step he took. After all, what was waiting for him at home? An empty condo. What waited at work? A job that, at the moment, seemed almost just as empty. It
all
suddenly seemed empty …
without her
.
all
suddenly seemed empty …
without her
.
Keep walking
, he told himself as he went through the revolving door and out into the southern
California
heat toward the parking lot.
, he told himself as he went through the revolving door and out into the southern
California
heat toward the parking lot.
Why?
another part of him answered back.
another part of him answered back.
Because it's what you do, it's how you play your life.
He kept moving.
He kept moving.
But why? What are you running from?
After all, hadn't he forgiven her? Yes, he had. But this was more than that. This … was about sharing his life with somebody. Really sharing it. He wanted to, but it was still pretty scary at the same time. Being a P.I., putting yourself in constant dangerous … that was nothing compared to the real fear that haunted him now.
But if you keep walking, you'll never see her again. Never brush another strand of hair away from that pretty face. Never hear that sweet laughter. Never gaze on the seductive heat in her eyes.
"I can't live without her," he said out loud. He looked around, glad to see he was alone in the parking lot. And he turned to go back inside.
* * *
"I can't leave." He approached her bed. Was she crying?
"Why not?" she said through a sniffle. "Car won't start?"
"No, it's you, Kimberly."
"What about me?" She wiped at her eyes with a tissue.
"I love to argue with you," he said.
"What?"
"It's insane, I know, but I love it."
Kimberly simply stared at him, obviously waiting for him to say something that made sense. He wasn't doing very well so far. So much for being impetuous again, but he had to forge on because he only had one shot at making this right. "And I love to make love to you," he said.
She still looked baffled. He knew he was still doing a lousy job, but he'd never actually done this before. "So you're saying … what?" she asked.
Just tell her, he thought. "I'm saying that I love you." He shook his head, amazed at how easy that had been. "God, that felt good. To just say it. I've been afraid of the words, but suddenly I realized I've got nothing to lose … except you, if I don't tell you this. I've loved you for … a long time. It took this weekend to make me see it, accept it I've missed you, Kimberly, and I don't want to let you get away again."
"You don't?"
"No, I don't." Then he took a deep breath and blurted out the next part. "Marry me."
"Huh?"
Okay, now she was making this difficult. "You heard me, Brandt. I want to marry you. I want to feel like I feel when I'm around you all the time, for the rest of my life."
"You do?" Her voice was trembling and the way she was looking at him was suddenly making him think that maybe, just maybe, spending their lives together wasn't such a new idea to her.
"I really do," he said. "Will you? Marry me, Kimberly?"
"Oh, Max. Yes!"
And then he was on the bed with her without really planning it, taking her into his arms, kissing her soft and warm and deep, and whispering, "This feels so nice," and then, "Jeez, am I hurting you?" when he remembered her wound.
But she only shook her head, laughing, that pretty laughter he'd been afraid he'd never hear again, that pretty laughter that had drawn him back here to this perfect moment.
Kimberly almost didn't believe it. It was too wonderful to be true. "Oh, Max," she breathed, "I've loved you for so long and I never thought you'd love me back."
"I always have, babe. I was just too stubborn to see it. But you made me see it this weekend."
She smiled, still enraptured, still partly in disbelief, as he looked into her eyes.
"You were so hot, so sexy, and so soft and smart and tough. You're every woman, Kimberly," he said, laughing. "What guy could want more than that?"
Kimberly sighed with joy, glad the tough part of her was for real, glad the soft part of her was still intact, and glad he loved all of her. She twined her arms around his neck and pulled him into another long, languid kiss as Max smoothly ran his hands up under her hospital gown.
"You don't have any panties on, Brandt."
She bit her lip coquettishly. "My partner ripped them off when we were having hot sex last night."
He raised his eyebrows at the reminder. "Any chance you're up for a repeat performance?"
Kimberly laughed. "I thought you were tired."
But Max was already off the bed and closing the door, then sliding the visitor's chair in front of it. Returning to the bed, he flashed a devilish grin. "Not
that
tired, babe."
that
tired, babe."
Epilogue
"
I
need a woman."
I
need a woman."
"You've got a beautiful one right there."
Frank pointed across his living room toward Kimberly in her bridal gown. He'd given her away at the ceremony and was now hosting the wedding reception.
Max smiled and took a moment to study her himself. After all, they'd only have one wedding day and she looked lovely in her flowing ivory dress.
That was why he hated to muddy the day with business. But just before he'd left for the church he'd gotten an urgent call from a client who needed some undercover work done. The job could wait until he and Kimberly returned from their honeymoon to
Hawaii
in two weeks, but he'd have to at least start making the arrangements before they left.
Hawaii
in two weeks, but he'd have to at least start making the arrangements before they left.
"It's for a job," Max said.
"What are the parameters?"
"The usual," Max replied. "Smart, good instincts, good acting abilities. And she needs to be attractive, too."
"Like I said, Max, you've got a beautiful woman right there."
Max watched Kimberly once again—she was dancing to a Leon Redbone song with Max's father. The sight brought a smile to his face, but he let it fade as he turned to Frank. "It's a dangerous job."
"She's a capable woman."
"The job calls for a guy, too," Max said.
"You're a capable guy."
"But I'm getting out of the field, remember?"
"What's going on over here?" Apparently, the dance with his dad had ended because Kimberly had just come up the steps to the foyer where the two men stood. She planted her hands on her hips. "You look way too worried for your wedding day, Max."
Other books
Sharky's Machine by William Diehl
Silk Stalkings by Diane Vallere
One Special Christmas & Home for the Holidays by Irene Hannon
Ralph Compton Whiskey River by Compton, Ralph
The School of Flirting by S. B. Sheeran
Of the Knowledge of Good and Evil by Micah Persell
Fox Play by Robin Roseau
Tameable (Warrior Masters) by Kingsley, Arabella
Money to Burn by Ricardo Piglia
CANCER'S CAUSE, CANCER'S CURE by Morton Walker, DPM