"I'm an American now. Of course I play pool." Max winked at Taylor, who wrinkled her brows and shook her head.
Max turned around and walked through an open archway. "This is where I cook and eat. I'm not a chef, but I can make blinchiki."
Kam's stomach growled at the memory of the blinchiki Max had made him the night they met.
"What's blinchiki?" Taylor looked between the two.
"Kind of like a crepe, but the Russian version," Kam explained. "I promise you won't be able to stop eating them."
Max chuckled. "I thought you were going to eat all of my food the first time I made it for you. Come, I will show you where you will stay."
Max led them down a hallway. He stopped at the first door. "This is where we will work." He pushed open the door to reveal a room with a large table in the middle and several computer screens displayed in an arch around a comfortable-looking office chair.
Max tipped his head toward the end of the hall. "There are two bedrooms that you each can take on the left. At the end of the hall is the storage where you can find any weapon you might need."
Kam's eyes snapped to Max. "I thought you didn't do weapons."
Max put both of his hands up. "I do not, but I had a feeling that one day you'd need it."
Kam knew how much Max detested violence. After what happened to his family in Russia, he swore off weapons that could kill people. Some people would have turned to revenge and the death of the ones who took everything from them, but not Max. Instead, he made it his lifelong commitment to fight with a computer and his tech skills.
Kam clamped Max's shoulder. "Thanks, brother."
Max kept his lips in a thin line and nodded. He turned and went into the room with the massive computer set up.
Kam and Taylor walked down the hall in silence. He could see the tension in her shoulders. She wanted to ask him so many questions. Ones that he was going to have to answer. Eventually.
He opened the first door. "You can take this one."
She walked past him and set her bag on the lower bunk. There wasn't much else to the room besides the small desk and single dresser. He took a step towards the door.
"Are you going to tell me who Max is to you?"
"Taylor, there are things that…"
"Save it, Kam. I can't stop falling for you all over again, but I need to trust you. I want to trust you. Will you give me a chance?"
Kam's heart started to race. She was falling for him again. The desire to tell her everything swelled inside of him. Her memory kept him going through the darkest of days when he couldn't see an ending to the nightmare he was trapped in.
"Okay," was all he could croak out.
"Okay, what?" Taylor put a hand on her hip.
"I'll tell you what you want to know about Max. About the last three years." If she still wanted to be around him after that, then he'd never let her go. If she chose to walk away, then he'd stay a ghost.
Taylor's eyes softened, and the guard she had up fell away. He took a chance and stepped toward her. He was drawn to her like he was the first day they met. There was something about her that tied a line directly to his heart. He cupped her face with his hand.
The dimly lit room made her eyes look like dark pools. He leaned toward her as she lifted her lips to meet his. His memories of their kisses did not compare to this. He pressed his hand to her back, and she melted into him. He was gone. Their lips moved in tandem like they hadn't missed a moment. The give and take pulled him under, and he let himself fall. For the first time in years, there was a light that burned brighter than the darkness.
She tilted her head to deepen the kisses, which unlocked something deep inside of him. His hands roamed over everycurve, searing in his memory the feel of her. He lifted her to bring her closer to his level, and she wrapped her legs around him. Setting her on the desk, he trailed kisses down her jaw. A small giggle slipped from her when he kissed her right behind her ear. He smiled against her skin before pulling back. He needed to tell her before they continued with this reconnection.
She kept both of her hands behind his neck, keeping them close together, which was fine by him. He could stay here kissing her forever, but he needed to answer her question. He kissed her nose, then took a step back.
"I think I need to stop." Taylor studied him closely, as if trying to decipher both his intentions and his character. "Trust me, I want to keep going, but we need to get your name cleared. Then we can see where this"— he pointed between them— "goes."
She hopped off the desk and, without a word, went to her bag that she had tossed on the bed. Taylor pulled a small bag out of the pocket and dumped something into her hand.
She faced him. "I usually keep this on under my shirt, but I took it off to go undercover. Can you help me put it on?"
