Night and Day Page 10
* * * *
After Lola had tricked his sister into thinking she was married to her now-husband, Laura had said something about their grandmother being a witch. Like the magic kind, not the Wicca kind. Max hadn’t believed her at the time, but sitting on the patio at Glass and Vine, he was inclined to change his assessment.
She must be intent on torturing him because she had Letty completely enthralled with her stories about living in Cuba under Castro. All Max wanted to do was find out why Letty had run out on him, but his grandmother was indoctrinating the poor woman into the family lore, as though it was a foregone conclusion that she’d be sticking around.
It was a good thing the food was excellent, and he loved watching Letty eat. When the way she swirled a French fry through ketchup turned him on, he knew he was done for. And the knowing looks that Lola tossed at him every few minutes told him that she knew it, too.
And Letty was acting like this was all normal. She might not want to sleep with him again, but she was acting like a girl who was trying to impress a guy’s family.
He needed time to talk to her alone. And he didn’t even know what he would say to her—that he wanted to fuck again? That wasn’t enough for him anymore, even though any more would be too much. Without selling out the show he had in two weeks, he shouldn’t even be thinking about starting a relationship with anyone.
But, if he did sell out the show, he would be able to prove to Letty that he was worth something. Somehow, in the time that he’d known her, that had become even more important to him than proving his worth to his father. Only now, that didn’t really matter to him anymore.
Lola took a sip of her second glass of wine and gasped. She put a bony hand on Letty’s arm. “You know, I feel bad for the way I deceived you.”
“It’s okay.” Letty looked at him for the first time since leaving her apartment. “I think things ended for the best.”
If Max had his way, things wouldn’t be ending at all. He just needed time to prove to Letty that he wasn’t the same bad bet that her ex-motherfucker had been.
“Well, I know you’re just starting this business, which I think is just brilliant.” His grandmother winked at him as she paused, which terrified him. “And I think I need your help.”
“I’m still working for Max this week.”
Lola ignored Letty’s protest and pushed on. “I was hoping that you could pick up a piece of art my husband bought from an artist in Key West.”
“Don’t they have delivery services for that?” Letty clearly knew what Lola was up to, that she’d set a not-particularly-clever trap, but the force of Lola’s personality would not be deterred.
“Well, I can’t trust just anyone, and I am paying her.” Lola’s words and the look on her face leveled him and made his lunch swish around in his belly. The fact that he wasn’t successful enough for someone who came from Letty’s background hit him—not for the first time. “And Max will go with you to do the heavy lifting.”
His grandmother might think she was clever in forcing them together, but Letty was too sharp to not see right through her scheming. Max held his breath waiting to see if she’d comply with the obvious set up, if she wanted to give him a chance to explain himself, a chance to spend more time with her. He wanted his twenty-two days. At least.
When she smiled at Lola, not him, he knew he’d won this round, but not on his own merits. To her credit, she didn’t even roll her eyes while Lola gave detailed instructions on how to care for the painting.
Chapter 11
Less than an hour later, Letty sat next to Max in his SUV, frozen on Highway 1 in Friday rush-hour traffic. “Your grandmother just sent us on a sex date, didn’t she?”
Max grumbled something she couldn’t quite make-out, then clear as day asked a dumb-ass question. “Why did you leave yesterday?”
The gall of this man to blow her off and then ask questions about why she would leave. She crossed her arms over her chest again and leaned as close to the window as she could get, as far away from Max as the confined space of the car would allow.
They had a three-and-a-half-hour-long trip, and she could stay silent the whole time. Her stubbornness was unparalleled, even when going head to head with a champion bull like Max.
“You’re not going to answer me?”
She pointed a look at him, which was a mistake. His eyes were on the road, and he looked sexy driving the big beast of a vehicle. She would have gone on her own, but Lola had assured her that she would need help and the space of Max’s car. Except, right now, there wouldn’t be enough space between her and Max if the interior stretched to the moon and back.
Regardless of the fact that he’d practically pushed her out the door after they’d had sex, she couldn’t help but notice how his proximity made her feel. Just a glance at his arm, corded with muscle and twitching slightly as it worked to keep the car between the guiding lines had her practically in rapture. Sweaty, lusty, and empty even though she still ached where he’d driven into her body the day before. After they got back, she was going to have a very strongly worded conversation with her vagina. It had acquired absolutely zero wisdom from the last time it led them both astray.
It was all a set-up, of course. By the time Lola had explained the job, she’d paid the lunch check and had an Uber on the way to the restaurant. Letty didn’t even know if Max wanted her to be there.
Not knowing was the only reason she responded. “I thought you wanted me to leave.”
“I didn’t want you to leave.”
“Then, why did you just toss out the condom and pick up the sketch book?” She shouldn’t have asked a question she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to, but they were going to be in the car forever, and she needed to know the answer.
“I thought I’d finish the drawing. I didn’t want to forget the way your face looked.”
In other words, Letty had jumped to the conclusion that most went with her experience—that he hadn’t wanted her there, and that they’d just been scratching the itch. Her skin got clammy, and she didn’t know why she couldn’t breathe.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to have them. To look at you.” He looked down. “And I still want you to see yourself the way I see you.”
The hot burn of tears pricked the back of her eyes, and she squeezed them shut. For a taciturn jerk, he really had a knack for saying romantic shit. When he did stuff like that, it was almost impossible to stay angry at him. “Why didn’t you say that?”
He glanced at her and then looked back toward the road. “I’m not used to this.”
“You seemed pretty used to having sex yesterday.”
She glanced over at him, and just caught the hint of a grin gracing the corner of his mouth.
“It’s not the sex that I’m not used to.” He paused, as though chewing on his next words. “I’m not used to relationship stuff.”
“Is what we’re doing a relationship?” Yet another dumb question, but it seemed she couldn’t help it at this point. Her stomach twisted at his potential answers, all of which were bad. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to be in a relationship with Max. Yes, the sex was awesome, but they needed to be able to talk to each other. And between the way he intimidated her with his surliness and his hotness, and the way he didn’t like talking, they probably weren’t compatible.
And they still hadn’t been on an actual date. She was still—because she’d insisted—his dirty little secret if she was anything to him at all. Thinking about going out with him in public made her almost as uneasy as thinking about having another secret affair with Max. She didn’t know if she could stand the looks that they’d get at restaurants and gallery shows. People would talk about them behind their backs, like why would someone as rich and sexy as Max Delgado date someone like her?
It wouldn’t matter that he didn’t think that way. That’s just
the way the world worked.
And then there was his silence now. She thought it would last the rest of the trip until he said, “My parents are getting divorced.”
She didn’t know what this had to do with the two of them, but she certainly wasn’t in the position to not give him the opportunity to get to the point. “I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m not.” His voice was gravelly, and raw with emotion. It made her want to reach out and grab the forearm closest to her. Or his thigh. Just to give him some comfort. “They should never have gotten married in the first place.”
“Why not?” Even though she was pissed or hurt or something by Max right now, she couldn’t imagine a world without him in it—didn’t want to.
“My dad’s a prick.”
“Not exactly a revolutionary concept.” Letty’s dad wasn’t overtly malicious, but he wasn’t going to win any parenting awards, either.
“No, like a criminal-level asshole.”
“He hurt your mom?”
His angry bark of laughter sent chills down her spine. “He hurt all of us.”
“I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t help it then, and she grabbed onto his leg. The muscle flexed underneath her touch, but he clapped his palm over her hand, keeping her there. Her mother hadn’t been the most supportive or the kindest about Letty being overweight, but she knew her family loved her. Her mother really just thought Letty would be happier if she were thin. “And they’re just getting divorced now?”
Anger rose up in Letty’s throat, closing it up and clouding her vision. The idea that a mother—any parent—would stay with someone who abused their children kicked every instinct she had in the balls. The idea of Max as a little boy getting hit tore at her insides.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “My mom left him after she got clean.”
Abusive father. Addict mother. No wonder Max had no idea how to do relationships. “Have you had therapy about this?”
Letty couldn’t imagine holding all that awfulness inside for over three decades.
“Not in a long time.”
“Don’t you think that it would be a good idea to go back?”
He pushed her hand off his leg, gently, but she still felt bereft. She wasn’t going to force him to talk about this, but she wasn’t going to apologize for making the suggestion. “I don’t think it would help.”
“You don’t know that, Max.” They’d been able to pick up a bit of speed after the first toll, and Letty looked out the window at the ocean whizzing by.
“What would a therapist tell me that I don’t already know?”
“What do you already know?”
“That I’m just like him.” The hairs on the back of Letty’s neck stood straight up. He thought he was just like his father? Who, frankly, sounded like a monster? No wonder he kept himself separate from people most of the time.
She knew that lashing out at him with all the anger she felt toward his father would be the wrong move right now. “What makes you think you’re like your father?”
“I get angry.”
Keep him talking. “Everyone gets angry.”
“But most people can control their anger.”
The sliver of unease that had wormed its way into her when this conversation started turned into a branch. “Have you ever hit anyone out of anger?”
“Sort of?”
Jesus. “Leaving way too much room for interpretation, here.”
“I get angry and I box.”
“That’s actually a constructive way to channel anger.” Relief washed over Letty like the white caps on waves surrounding them. “You have permission to hit someone when you’re in the ring.”
“I’m still no good in relationships.”
“You seem to be doing pretty well, right now.”
“You’re terrified of me.” He gritted his teeth, and his knuckles went white on the steering wheel. “I can see it all over your face.”
“No. I’m not.” For one thing, if Max were really like his father, he wouldn’t be afraid he was like his father. “I’m angry on your behalf and scared that you’re going to push me away.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t.”
“How do I stop myself?” He’d given her an opening to tell him exactly what she wanted. But did she know what she wanted with Max in light of everything he’d told her? Did she have the courage to ask him for what her heart and body craved every time she was in the same room as him?
What would she ask him for if she had all the confidence in the world? What could she ask for if she didn’t think that this thing between them wasn’t an illicit, secret affair, doomed to end terribly?
“Your grandmother got us a room at a B&B, didn’t she?”
“So, you want to talk about my grandmother now?”
“Not really, but maybe—” She hesitated, not sure if he would laugh at her. What she wanted from him right now was so small, yet it felt huge to her. “Maybe we could just pretend we’re a regular couple this weekend? See if it fits.”
“I’m not sure I can do regular couple.”
“You’ve been on a date before?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’ve had hotel sex?”
She wasn’t fooling herself into thinking that she could cure him of his complex about his father by going on a date and some vigorous sexual healing. But maybe if he pretended that he wasn’t a monster, he would realize he wasn’t one. Eventually.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had hotel sex.”
“I haven’t, either.” Even after the heavy conversation, she felt a well of tenderness for Max that threatened to overflow and swamp her good sense, and her heart. And her desire for him, especially knowing that he thought he had to work so hard to be a good man, didn’t fade, it grew.
She was probably fooling herself, and this would probably end terribly, but she would blame herself more for taking a chance.
Chapter 12
Max loved Key West. As soon as he and Joaquin were old enough, Grandpa Rogelio had brought them out fishing on the coast. The quiet of the waves and knowing that his grandfather had been looking out for him had given him respite from the horrors of living with his parents.
The fact that Letty hadn’t opened the door and rolled out of his moving car to get away from him had surprised him. Part of the reason he’d never been in a long-term relationship was that he could never tell a woman he was with to be careful not to jostle his mother, she was high and might fall over or lash out. He could never quite articulate how his father’s words could cut. Mostly, he was just embarrassed.
With Letty, forcing himself to risk shame and rejection had been freeing. She knew the worst thing about him, and she still wanted to be with him. She was kind of like a miracle right now.
It was a good thing she was still speaking with him, because Lola had booked them a room at a decidedly romantic bed and breakfast. And she’d definitely given them no choice but to stay together because the B&B was completely booked. The nature of Max’s interactions with women hadn’t lent themselves to getaway weekends or hotel sex, and a big part of him was nervous about doing this with Letty.
He almost wished he’d practiced more—that he’d had some experience having a real girlfriend who he could see have a future with. But he was here now, and he wasn’t going to squander this opportunity.
His grandmother had set them up on a sex date, that’s how low he’d fallen. “Want to go to dinner?”
The kind of surprised and delighted look on her face made it all worth it.
* * * *
Letty was pretty sure she’d gotten super powers during dinner. Having the power of ultra-sensitive skin all over her body was the only way to explain how every touch from Max sizzled its way through her nerves and seared her brain.
When they
got back to the hotel room, he had his hand on her lower back. This slow and leisurely seduction wasn’t what she was used to. Before Max, she’d felt like an afterthought. After everything he’d told her today, she’d expected him to retreat, and start treating her like he had when she’d shown up the first day. But he hadn’t.
Maybe Key West was magic. Everything seemed slower here than it did in the city. And, while Letty loved the fast pace of Miami and New York, the ocean breezes and slow walking of the Keys was nice, too. But maybe it was only nice because she was here with Max.
The way he’d touched her and talked to her throughout dinner and after, as they walked back to the B&B made it feel like he was really trying and that maybe things would work out between the two of them. Part of her knew it was crazy to hope, but she couldn’t help it.
As soon as the door to the hotel room shut, his mouth was on hers, spreading light and heat through her body. His hands grasped her back, and he moved them both through the room until they were standing next to the bed. When his mouth shifted from her mouth to her neck, one hand in her hair, she noticed the lights still on in their hotel room and the way someone walking on the beach could maybe see them if they squinted in just the right way and walked right up to the shutters.
It wasn’t like fucking on stage at a sex club or anything, but it was downright risqué for her.
“Max.”
He straightened up and looked in her eyes; his hands never stopped sifting through her hair at a drugging, slow pace. “Yes, precious girl?”
“Someone could see.”
He looked over at the window then back at her. “Not unless they’re really determined.”
“What if they’re really determined?”
She knew that he didn’t have the same complex about people seeing his body. Why would he? Every muscle was defined as he made his way to the hurricane shutters and made sure they were firmly closed.
Stalking back to her, he looked like a predator, but he had her in his thrall, and she didn’t want to move away. When her hands went to the hem of her blouse, he stopped her with a held-up hand.