Taming Mad Max (7 page)

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Authors: Theresa Ragan

BOOK: Taming Mad Max
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He obediently cracked all three eggs into the bowl. After throwing away the shells, he used a spoon to scoop out two of the yolks. “Are you ever going to tell me where we met?” Max asked as he rinsed the spoon in the sink.

“I already told you I mistook you for someone else. Are you ever going to let it go?”

“Not unless you agree to have dinner with me this Sunday. It’s your day off.”

“I can’t.”

“No fraternizing with your clients?”

“That...and Lindsay and I are going bowling.”

He lifted a curious brow.

“Birthday party for my daughter.”

“I see. I’m not going to give up easily, you know.”

“You’re wasting your time, Max.”

He busied himself with rinsing a bowl in the sink. After a moment he said, “My mother and sisters will be arriving next week. Still planning on sticking around?”

“It’s my job. I don’t have a choice. That is, unless you fire me.”

“And let you off the hook that easily? I don’t think so.”

For the next five minutes, they worked quietly side by side. She stirred the spinach while he stirred the noodles.

“Who picks your daughter up from school every day?”

“Usually one of Lindsay’s daycare assistants picks Molly up from school.”

“Molly,” he said. “Nice name.”

“Thanks.” She couldn’t look at him. A part of her wanted to tell him, but another part of her couldn’t do it. Max had his chance to be a part of his daughter’s life and he’d blown it.

“So,” he said, “you spend all day with all of your clients?”

“Most.”

“Men clients?”

She set the lid on the pan and turned up the heat. “Yes. I’ve worked side by side, just as we’re doing now, with many of my male clients.”

“I don’t think I like that.”

Exasperated, she went to the pantry to look for a colander.

“Why are you playing so hard to get?”

She turned about, surprised to find him so close. The man was like a cat on the prowl, sneaking up on his prey.

“I’m not playing anything, Max.”

“But you think I’m playing games...and you think this thing happening between me and you is just a game to me?”

“There isn’t anything happening between us.”

“But you do think my pursuit of you is all a game?”

“Yes.”

He dazzled her with a smile right before he cupped her face between his palms and covered her mouth with his.

She hadn’t seen it coming. If she had, she would have stopped him. And she was going to stop him...soon...very soon. The kiss was tender and lovely. Warm and intoxicating. Tears gathered, mostly because she realized she couldn’t stop him. She knew it. And now he knew it.

For a few glorious seconds, she couldn’t remember why she’d fought her attraction to him. She could hardly think. The only thing she felt was the warmth of his lips as he deepened the kiss and wrapped his strong arms around her, his chest a safe, warm cocoon.

Images of a time long ago crept into her mind; a time when Max held her as he was doing now.

You’re stronger now, Kari. You’re older and wiser. You can stop him.

 

She willed her hands to his chest and gently pushed him away. Stepping back, she wiped her eyes and tried to catch her breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was out of line. You do something to me, Kari. I felt it the instant I saw you in Dr. Stone’s examining room.”

She headed for the stove.

“The fact that I asked you out and then was discovered with another woman last night makes you think I’m a player, doesn’t it?”

Kari needed a moment to regroup. Her hands were shaking. But Max continued the conversation as if he hadn’t just turned her world upside down with a single kiss. “Honestly, Max. Seeing you last night with a woman whose name you couldn’t remember did little to change my original opinion of you.”

“And your original opinion of me was based on what? Magazine articles and tabloids?”

“Pretty much.” She turned back to the stir the ingredients on the stove, unwilling to let him see that a mere kiss had such a debilitating affect on her.

“I don’t think you’re being fair-minded,” he said.

Her heart raced as she wondered why he was being so persistent, so determined to make her want him. Why the hell did he have to come back into her life now? She’d read enough about Max Dutton over the years to know that he enjoyed a challenge, nothing more. Annoyed with herself for being so easily enamored, she turned to face him. “I don’t care what you think, Max. I’m not your girlfriend. I’m not even sure I’m your friend. For the next few weeks, I’m your nutritionist...and I’ll never be anything more than that.”

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 6

 

 

It was eleven a.m. on Sunday morning when Kari pulled her jeep into the crowded parking lot. Lindsay sat in the passenger seat, fixing her hair and complaining about her split-ends.

“Mom,” Molly said from the backseat. “I’m a little old for a bowling party, don’t you think?”

“Don’t be silly. It’ll be fun. Remember when you used to beg me every single day to bring you to the bowling alley?”

“I was six—maybe seven...” Molly looked out the window. “Oh my God! That’s Grant Parker. What’s he doing here?”

“I invited him,” Kari said, pulling into the first available parking space. “I thought you liked him.” Kari looked to Lindsay for help, but didn’t get any. “I thought she liked him,” she said again.

Molly slinked low into the back seat. “I’m not getting out. Tell Grant and everyone else that the party has been canceled. Tell them I died.”

Kari put the car in park, opened the door, and climbed out. “Get your butt out of the car right now or you will die of embarrassment when I roll down this window and tell Grant to come over here so he can see what a baby you’re being.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“She would,” Lindsay warned as she flipped shut the mirror on the visor.

“I thought you were my friend,” Molly said to Lindsay. “How could you let her do this to me?”

“I had no idea she invited Grant,” Lindsay admitted with a shrug. “And who would have thought she would plan a bowling party for a thirteen-year old?”

Lindsay shook her head at Kari. “I must admit that I’m impressed though. Your mother does not like the idea of her baby girl turning thirteen, let alone talking to boys, but because she loves you, she invited the hottest boy in town to your party.”

“Thanks,” Kari said to Lindsay before she turned to her daughter. “So, what’s it going to be? Should I go get Grant?”

“I’m coming,” Molly muttered as she uncrossed her arms and sat up. “But I want you to know that you could very well be ruining not only my life, but my reputation as a semi-cool girl on campus.”

“Okay. I get it. No more surprises,” Kari agreed. “Now let’s party!”

Molly rolled her eyes and mumbled a string of sentences with the words “lame” and “stupid” sprinkled throughout.

Two hours later, Kari wondered if Molly might be right. The poor girl had the lamest mother in town. What was she thinking planning a bowling party for a semi-cool thirteen year old? Every kid looked bored to tears, except Maggie Jones who had brought her own bowling ball and was now playing a third game all by herself.

The problem was, Kari realized, she’d been preoccupied all week and therefore hadn’t thought the whole party thing out. Max Dutton appeared to be bound and determined to make her want him, and in the process, ruin her life...again. God, she sounded just like her thirteen-year-old daughter. But it was true. All week her every thought had been focused on Max, resisting him while he piled on the charm. For a week he’d listened to her lectures on nutrition without so much as a yawn; that alone had impressed her beyond reason. To make matters worse, he’d cooked for her on Wednesday—a delicious shrimp and pineapple stir fry—serving it to her poolside. On Thursday, he’d made an excellent spicy vegetarian chili. He was a quick learner and every day spent with him was one more day of him chipping away at her resolve. Not only had Max cooked for her, he’d taken advantage of her close proximity at nearly every turn—touching her hand or brushing flour from her face. Every touch and every smile had been branded into her mind, until Max was all she thought of anymore.

Yesterday they walked for ten miles, picking pomegranates, which they ate when they returned to his house. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun—it had to stop.

“I thought you said you didn’t like him,” Lindsay whispered into Kari’s ear.
“Who?”

“Max Dutton.”

“I don’t like him. I loathe him,” she lied.

“Then why did you invite him to Molly’s party?”

“What are you talking about?” Kari followed the direction of Lindsay’s gaze. Max Dutton and Cole Fletcher stood near the counter where patrons paid for bowling shoes. The two men made quite a pair. Two Greek Gods in a bowling alley...they were hard to miss. “No way,” she said under her breath.

“Way,” Lindsay said. “But did you have to invite his friend, too? I can’t stand that guy.”

“I didn’t invite either of them. I have no idea why they’re here. I do know that I’ve got to get rid of him before Molly sees—”

“Too late,” Lindsay said as she gestured toward the kids.

Sure enough, Molly had grabbed Grant’s hand and was already in the process of ushering him over to meet Max as if she’d met the man a million times before. Molly shot a quick look at Kari and mouthed the words “I love you.”

“She’s going to be your best friend now,” Lindsay said.

They watched Cole shake hands with the boys and girls as if he wasn’t three feet taller than the majority of them. The kids were too old to have him kneel down and he knew it. Cole Fletcher took a seat and began signing napkins and whatever else the kids handed him. Cole looked their way and caught Lindsay looking at him. He winked.

Lindsay forced a smile.

Kari elbowed her friend. “So the big guy isn’t so bad after all.”

“He’s okay, just not my type.”

Molly rushed over to where she and Lindsay stood and said, “Look what Mad Max gave me for my birthday.” She held up five tickets before handing one ticket and a purple card to Lindsay.

Lindsay wrinkled her nose. “What’s this?”

“Cole told me to give you those.” Molly said with a grin. “I told him you wanted to go into the locker room with Grant after the game. He said, ‘No problemo. Anything for the redhead.’”

Lindsay’s cheeks turned as red as her hair.

Molly grabbed Kari’s arm. “I can’t believe this, Mom. I’m so sorry I was such a brat earlier. According to Grant, I am now officially the coolest girl ever.”

“Well, phew. I’m glad because I was really getting worried.”

Oblivious to her sarcasm, Molly added, “I told Mad Max and Cole that they could eat pizza and cake with us.”

“Of course, you did,” Kari said, her insides churning. “Are we ready to eat?”

“Not yet. Mad Max and Cole said they would bowl with us first. They’re getting their shoes.” Molly put her arms around Kari’s waist and squeezed her tight. “Thank you, Mom. This is the best party ever.”

 

#

 

 

“Nice shoes,” Lindsay told Cole when he came to stand beside her after he finished signing autographs for the kids.

“Thanks,” he said, his eyes shifting downward. “Nice shirt.”

She glanced down at her SpongeBob SquarePants T-shirt, the one with SpongeBob giving the thumbs up. “The kids like it.”

“It says ‘I’m Ready’,” he said, pointing at her bosom. “Ready for what?”

“For anything,” she said over her shoulder as she headed for the bowling lanes.

He followed her. “Is that right?” He found a ball and tried stuffing his large fingers into the holes, but it was no use. He tried every ball but it was no use, the holes were all too small.

“If you’re ready for anything,” he asked her, “then why don’t we make a real game of this. If I win, you go out with me tomorrow night. If I lose, I have to massage your feet and give you a pedicure.”

She laughed. “Not a chance.”

“Not that good of a bowler, huh?”

“I’m a great bowler.” She plunked a hand on her hip, making her ponytail sway a little. “I just don’t want to go out with you. And besides, I just had a pedicure.”

“I don’t bite.”

“I don’t date jocks.”

“Well maybe I’ll just have to change your mind.”

“Not gonna happen. Here,” she said, handing him a bright pink bowling ball.

He took the ball, surprised when his fingers fit the holes perfectly. “Let’s up the stakes,” he said, ignoring her smirk. “If I win by more than twenty points with this pansy pink ball you picked out for me, you’ll agree to go out with me tomorrow night.”

“And if you lose?”

“I’ll be your daycare assistant for a day.”

She crossed her arms. “So, I guess Kari told you I ran a daycare. What else did she tell you about me?”

“Not much. Just that you get a little high-strung after a long week with the kids and that you don’t get out much. She said something about daylilies and Butterfingers, but nothing about SpongeBob.”

“I didn’t realize my friend talked so much.”

His smile revealed straight white teeth. “Are we on?”

“I don’t know. How are you with kids?”

“I’m number one out of eight. All my siblings have two or more children, and I can’t remember the last time I visited a sibling without having to babysit and change at least one diaper.”

She laughed again as she took in his large frame. She’d always been considered tall at five-foot-nine, but at six-six, Cole easily towered over her. His neck had to be nineteen or twenty inches in diameter and his arms were big and strong. His hair was cut too short around his ears. If he ever expected her to go out with him, which was not going to happen, he’d have to grow his hair out. And that tight ribbed knit shirt he wore like a second skin would have to be replaced with something more casual like a vintage T-shirt. The man needed work, but she had to admit, he seemed like a nice enough guy. He had some potential. At least for a football jock who obviously thought he was “all that.”

His eyes flickered. “So what’s it going to be?”

“I guess being the oldest of eight qualifies you as a daycare assistant. It so happens that the teenager who usually helps me will be gone next week, so I really could use some help. But if I win,” Lindsay said, “you’ll have to be my assistant for the entire week.”

She examined her nails. “I’ll expect you at the house at seven o’clock sharp first thing Monday morning. If you’re late, just turn around and go back where you came from. I run a tight ship. Just because you’ve been on a few covers of
Sports Illustrated
doesn’t mean you get special privileges.”

“You’re talkin’ as if you’re going to win.”

“That’s because I am.”

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