The Millionaire Tempted Fate (A Novella) (Sweet and Savory Romances) (7 page)

That made him picture Angie naked. Soapy. Naked and soapy, and with him. His libido roared to life, and all he wanted right now was to run to her apartment, strip off the suit he’d just put on and offer to scrub her back. And do a hell of a lot more.

"You want to play hooky this morning?" she asked him, as if she was reading his mind.

"I think I can be persuaded." Hell, his mind hadn’t been on work for days. Why even pretend it was?

"Good. Meet me at my apartment. I’ve got…something to show you."

"Oh really? And what might that be?"

She laughed. "It’s a surprise. I know how you love surprises—"

"I hate surprises."

She laughed. "That’s why I’m not telling you what it is. Just get here. As soon as you can."

*~*~*

Nine minutes later, Max was knocking on Angie’s door. Had to be a record. She’d never known him to get from his place to hers that fast. A whisper of hope, that he’d rushed here because he couldn’t wait to see her, rose in Angie’s chest. "What’d you do?" she asked him. "Take the Bat Plane?"

His gaze swept over her and the grin she knew so well flashed across his features. "Well, I heard the shower running and thought you might have soap in some uncomfortable places."

That thought caused a rush of heat to run through her, chased by the urge to kiss him, to do so much more that involved a horizontal surface. "So you’re here to rescue me from too many suds?"

"At your service, ma’am." He gave her a mock salute. Then the tease dropped from his voice, and he was back to being just Max, not a flirt. For a second there, she’d almost thought he really did want to hop in the shower with her.

A feeling she knew well. Because she’d pictured him naked and soapy about a billion times. She swallowed back her disappointment. Did he really not see her as desirable? Or was he trying to stay true to Becky?

"Well, I’m glad you’re here because I need help." She stepped back and waved him into the apartment, and back to her real reason for having Max over. Step six in her plan to win his heart—show him her softer side. "Meet my new best friend."

There was a yip, and then a bundle of golden fur bounded out of the oversized cushioned bed set in the corner. When she’d had this plan late last night, she’d thought it was brilliant. Show Max that she could be a nurturing, caring woman. Not the tough-as-nails friend he knew, the woman who had beat him at the Ruckus Race last year. The woman who didn’t shriek when she saw a spider, or when a sweaty, bloody boxer tumbled into her lap.

The Cocker Spaniel puppy had been an impulse buy, but even though he’d kept her up half the night and had her outside three times to teach him all about the joys of doggie toilet training, she already loved him. He’d melted her heart in ways she hadn’t expected, and she couldn’t imagine a day without the dog.

"You got…a dog?" Max said. He bent down and rubbed the puppy’s head. The dog returned the favor with a furious tongue licking of his hand.

"Yup. And I named him Chewie."

Max lifted his gaze to hers. Recognition dawned in his deep blue eyes. "You did?"

Angie lowered herself to the space between Max and the dog, and gave Max a smile. "We agreed a long time ago that there was no better name for a dog."

Emotions washed over Max’s face. Surprise, joy, then a tenderness she rarely saw in strong, Type-A Max. His blue eyes became as soft as clouds, and a smile wavered on his face. The gesture, so vulnerable, so open, warmed her. "Angie, you’re amazing. I can’t believe you remember that I said that."

"It was fifth grade. We were sitting on the swings and talking about what we wanted to be when we grew up. You said you were going to be a firefighter—"

He laughed. "Yeah, I’m pretty far from that."

"—and you were going to have a dog and name him Chewie. I said I wanted a dog too and that Chewie was a cool name."

Max gave the puppy a tender pat and his gaze went somewhere far away, somewhere he rarely went, rarely talked about. "My dad never wanted us to have a dog. Said they were too much work, too much of a mess. I vowed when I grew up, the first thing I’d buy is a dog. But I never did. Why?"

"I don’t know, Max." She truly didn’t. They’d been friends forever, but the subject of his childhood was one they left in the past. She knew it hurt him, but tough guy Max allowed few peeks behind that strong façade. And she never pushed because she, of all the people in his life, understood about childhood disappointments and empty spaces in your heart.

"Because I got too busy with my job. My life became…" he let out a long breath, "my father’s, except without the vodka punctuation mark. And when I’d think about getting a dog every once in a while, I’d think about the mess and the work involved, and tell myself later. There’d be time
later
."

Oh how she could relate to that. How many things had she put off, because she convinced herself there’d be time, when really, it wasn’t about procrastination, it was about fear. She and Max were such similar creatures, deep down inside.

"Later is now, Max. Stop waiting for what you really want." She covered his hand with hers, a hand she knew as well as her own, the hand she had held when his father kicked him out for the tenth time, the hand she’d held when her mother announced yet another move, the hand she’d clasped when she got nervous before her first job interview. It was strong and warm and dependable.

Whether or not her plan worked out, she knew she could never walk away from Max. He was more than her best friend—he was the rock she stood on. And she hoped she did the same for him.

"Chewie here’s for rent," Angie said, holding tight, just as he had done for her a thousand times. "Anytime you need a dog fix, you can have him. I figure we can share him. The best of both worlds for everyone."

"Share him?"

"Yup. It’s a baby step into commitment. For both of us."

"That sounds like the best way we could do this," Max said. "Thank you, Angie. For…everything. I’ll be taking you up on that," he said. The puppy scampered away, tugging a chew toy out from under the sofa. Max grinned, then turned to Angie. "You know me so well. And yet, you still manage to surprise me and push me out of my stodgy old comfort zone from time to time."

"Gotta keep you on your toes," Angie said, her voice light and flirty, covering for the lump in her throat and the racing beat of her heart. If she could have, she would have bought a hundred dogs, if only to see Max smile like this. To know she’d brought him joy.

Oh, hell. This being in love thing was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Sometimes she wanted to run and other times she wanted to stay right where she was.

"Keeping you on your toes is one thing a puppy will definitely do," he said, laughing as Chewie tried to wrestle Max’s shoe off his foot. Max gave the dog an ear rub, then turned to Angie. "What made you get a dog now?"

She shrugged. "I guess I was just feeling lonely." She dropped her gaze to the golden fur before her, and avoided Max’s eyes. Yeah, look who could give advice about going after what you wanted—and not take it herself.

"Lonely? We’ve been spending almost every day together."

"Yeah, but soon we won’t. When you marry Becky, you’ll be with her all the time and we won’t see each other very often."

"That’s not true, Angie. I—"

"She’ll be your wife," Angie said, even though the word scraped her throat raw, "and because of that, she’ll be entitled to, and expect, your attention whenever you aren’t working. Friends take a backseat to that."

"The same thing will happen when you fall in love, you know. Maybe with that Michael guy."

"That was…a short-term thing." She wanted to say she’d already fallen in love, but then the dog climbed onto her lap and licked at her cheek, her ear and she defaulted to her safety zone. "Besides, I already have a lifetime companion right here."

"Letting a dog into your heart isn’t the same as letting a man into your heart," Max said, his voice quiet.

"I know."

"Do you?" Max waited until her gaze met his. "When was the last time you fell in love?"

Here was her moment, her chance to tell him. No more waiting, putting it off. She took a deep breath and this time, didn’t look away. "Right now."

He chuckled. "I meant with a man, not a dog."

Damn. Max had totally misread her. That’s what she got for letting Chewie be a part of the conversation.

"Let me guess," Max said before she could correct him. He thought a second, then held up a finger. "I got it. Sixth grade. Eric Kennedy. Your first and only love."

"I can’t believe you remember that." She shook her head. "That kid was always lugging a camera around everywhere he went."

"Didn’t he grow up to work for
The Globe
?"

"Yup. I fell for him because he made me feel pretty. He always wanted to take my picture. Of course, I found out later that’s because he thought I was ‘quirky looking,’ but at least back then it made me feel good." Angie shrugged.

"That’s what makes you unique," Max said.

"Yeah, and
that’s
a trait that men are always looking for in women. Oh, she’s unique and quirky." Angie laughed. "Those are code for the opposite of pretty."

Max reached up, and cupped her jaw. Her heart stopped, her breath caught, and her gaze held his. Hot, strong, tight. "You
are
beautiful, you know. Absolutely beautiful. Stunning. Unforgettable. And any man who doesn’t see that is a fool."

"The kind of beautiful that men fall in love with?" she asked, the words almost a whisper.
Men like you?

"Any man could fall in love with you," Max said, his thumb running along her cheek for a moment before he lowered his hand and disappointment flooded her. "If you would stop being so afraid of being in love."

"I’m not afraid of that."

Max arched a brow. "Then take a risk and do what I’m doing. Get married, settle down."

Anger and frustration bubbled up inside of her. How could he not see that she’d been trying her damndest to take a risk this entire week? And he was doing the opposite, not to mention, missing every clue she tried to give him. "Don’t talk to me about taking risks, Max, when you’re proposing to a woman just because she fits your checklist of the perfect wife."

Max got to his feet. Chewie propped his paws on Max’s pant leg, but he only gave the dog an absentminded pat. "At least I’m taking that risk, Angie. You’re…" he looked down at the dog, then at her, "you’re just pretending to."

"You don’t know that." She shook her head. "You don’t know anything about me."

"I know everything about you."

"No," she said softly, "you don’t."

"I know the first time you got kissed." His thumb traced over her lips. "I remember that day very well."

She opened her mouth, took a breath. "It was a terrible kiss."

A smile curved up one side of his face. "I was inexperienced. I’m better now."

"Are you?" She grinned.

"Much."

"Oh really? I wouldn’t know." She gave him a teasing smile. She felt comfortable on this ground, joking with Max, treating him like a friend and date at the same time.

He reflected her grin with one of his own, a smile that made her heart flip. "Maybe we should try again."

"Ooh, I don’t know. That could be risky."

"You think us kissing is risky?"

She affected a nonchalant pose, as if his words a moment ago hadn’t struck a nerve. As if she didn’t care what he said or did. As if she hadn’t thought about kissing him a million times, and didn’t feel this growing wave of desire blooming inside her. "If you kiss me,
really
kiss me, you might throw that checklist out the window."

"Maybe. Maybe not." He watched her face for a long second, then the smile curved deeper into his cheeks, and he cupped her jaw, closing the distance between them. She caught the dark notes of his cologne, felt the warm pulse in his touch. "Only one way to know."

The puppy, maybe sensing the tension between Max and Angie, had gone off to the corner to chew on a toy. The air stilled, Angie’s breath held, and then, Max’s lips met hers and the world disappeared.

He took his time kissing her, a long, sweet, tender kiss, the kind she had dreamed of all her life. His hands cradled her face, so gentle, she almost cried. The kiss touched her, deep, deep inside, and if there was any doubt about how she felt, those hesitations evaporated in that moment.

Too soon, Max drew back, then pressed his forehead to hers. "Oh, Angie, what are we doing?"

"Taking a risk. Something we should have done a long time ago." She grinned at him. "Since the invention of the kiss there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one..." she sighed, "was even better than all of them."

He returned her smile. "
The Princess Bride
. With your own twist."

"How many times have we seen that movie? A dozen? It’s still my favorite."

"Inconceivable, Buttercup."

She chuckled. "Nothing’s inconceivable if you believe hard enough, Miracle Max." She’d dubbed him that years ago, after the sarcastic medicine man played by Billy Crystal. It had become their code, for holding on against impossible odds, whether they be chemistry tests or business launches.

Or falling for your best friend.

He met her gaze, and for a second, she was sure he was going to agree. Then he shook his head and got to his feet. "What we already have means too much to me to let this," he waved between them, "ruin it with sex. We’re friends, Ang. Anything more would be a mistake."

Then Max was gone, leaving her sitting on the floor, broken hearted. Chewie scrambled to his feet, pounced on Angie’s legs and tried his best to make his new mistress smile again. The trouble was, everything that embodied the happy ending she wanted—

Had just walked out the door.