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Chapter 9
Billy stood by the door in Maxi’s office at SPC. The only sound in the room was the click, click, clicking of her fingers on the keyboard. Out of his peripheral vision he watched her sitting behind her desk, her back straight, staring at her computer with her dark hair falling in waves around her face.
“I know you’re mad,” she repeated, her eyes still glued to her screen.
Again? Did they really have to do this again? In the last twenty-four hours they’d had this same exact conversation at least a dozen times. Verbatim.
“I’m not mad, I’m worki—”
“You’re working,” Maxi cut in as she looked up. “Bullshit.”
That was new.“Excuse me?”
Maxi lifted her arms in obvious frustration. “If you have something to say, you should just say it.”
He remained silent. There was nothing else to say. He’d said his piece, she didn’t agree. End of story.
“I don’t have time for this.” She stood from behind her desk and walked around it. “The meet and greet is in thirty minutes and Ricco’s still adding people to the guest list, which I’m having to clear with personnel. The caterer just called and both of the vans carrying the food were in a four-car pileup. And one of Ricco’s boys was detained at the airport for mouthing off to a security guard.”
Since they’d arrived at SPC at nine a.m. Maxi had been putting out one fire after another. For eight hours she’d gone nonstop. The woman standing in front of him took multitasking to a whole new level. When he’d asked her if it was always like this she’d explained that Mondays were hectic, like it was no big deal. He’d always known that she was an intelligent, capable woman but seeing her in action had caused him to have a whole new respect for her.
“Sounds like you have better things to do than yell at me.” Billy knew his statement would irritate her, but he just couldn’t help himself. She was so damn cute when she was mad and there were very few times that he could put her in that state and not be at fault. This was one of those times.
“I can’t do my job with you standing there,” her arms waved up and down, “being mad. I just…I can’t…I need to know that we’re okay.”
Even though he was enjoying watching her get frustrated, especially since he was confident that he was standing firmly on solid ground, the last thing he’d ever want to do is truly upset her.
“I’m not mad.” Billy hoped his sincerity was evident. “I do think Charlie should know what’s going on, but it’s not my call.”
Yesterday morning Charlie had texted both he and Maxi to let them know that he wouldn’t be home that night for Sunday dinner because he was extending his fishing trip through the week. He said that he would be back Friday night. Billy wanted to drive up to Whisper Lake and tell him what was going on. Maxi didn’t.
She’d argued that there was nothing her dad could do other than worry. That he needed the vacation because he’d seemed really tired lately. And as much as Billy thought that Charlie needed to know what was going on with his daughter, he had to admit that Maxi made a legitimate point. Charlie had seemed tired lately and even if he knew, there was nothing he could do. Still, it just felt wrong to keep him in the dark.
But that wasn’t why he’d been so quiet. His lack of conversation had more to do with the fact that he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Billy had been accused, more than once, of having no filter. Of saying whatever came into his head. That wasn’t completely true, but there was definitely a kernel of truth in that. So this weekend had been an hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute marathon of keeping what he was thinking to himself.
After Jana left Saturday evening, he and Maxi had dinner and watched TV before she excused herself to go to bed. Disappointment had flooded him that she hadn’t fallen asleep against him. He’d wanted to suggest that they stay out in the front room together again. He’d even considered telling her it would be safer. But that was ridiculous. The security system that Seth had installed was top notch and there was twenty-four hour surveillance on all the entry points of her condo.
So instead of protesting, he’d taken the guest room. He’d spent the last two nights tossing and turning. It was more than just restlessness, or being on the job. His fitfulness was due to feeling like something, or more accurately someone was missing.
Several times he’d gone in to check on her, justifying his behavior by telling himself that he was just doing his job. Each time he’d found her in bed sleeping peacefully, her room illuminated by a night light. She obviously wasn’t suffering from the same edginess and turmoil that was afflicting him.
But she had to sense that there had been a shift in the tectonic plates of their relationship, right?
Over the past forty-eight hours he’d been so tempted to ask her, but how could he? Her life was in upheaval. Someone was harassing her. She had to have round the clock security. Not to mention this was one of the most important weeks in her professional life. How could he explain to her that one night, one innocent night with her had changed him? Changed them. He didn’t even understand it himself.
So, he’d remained silent. Whatever was or was not going on between them wasn’t important. Her safety. Her well-being. Her happiness. That was all that mattered.
Still interpreting his silence incorrectly, she lifted her hands in mock-surrender. “Okay, fine. Say we tell him. What would interrupting his vacation do?” Maxi shook her head slightly as she stepped forward, closing the distance between them to only a couple of inches. “What purpose would him knowing serve? He would get upset. He would demand I go stay with him. He wouldn’t let me be alone for a minute. You’re already taking care of all that.”
Billy flexed his hands at his sides. Saying the wrong thing wasn’t the only thing he was fighting. The intense attraction that he’d felt for years for the dark haired beauty in front of him had now reached new levels. The desire, the need to reach out and touch her, to feel her soft skin, to kiss her full lips was so overwhelming it was unbearable.
Oblivious to his torment she continued, “He needs this time. He needs the rest. I know you don’t agree with me, and he wouldn’t either, but I’m right. You just have to trust me.”
Reaching out she placed her hand on his forearm and the sensation of her fingertips brushing his skin sent a ripple of arousal and awareness spreading through him like a wildfire.
His heart slammed in his chest as he looked into her pleading eyes. The fragile vulnerability that he saw there was making it a thousand times harder not to pull her into his arms.
Somehow managing to keep his arms, lips, and hands to himself, he assured her, “I trust you.”
