Use the past to fix the now . . . The woman’s words floated around in her head and it came to her that maybe this trip could be about more than just making up with her family. She could make up with Max. If he’d let her. “Max?”
“Yeah?”
“Did Cindy break up with you after I turned in the video?” she asked. “Is that why you’re mad at me?”
Max leaned forward and knocked his head against his steering wheel several times.
“Look,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. And I should’ve said that a long time ago. The video . . . it wasn’t about you—”
Head still down, he snorted.
“It wasn’t,” she insisted.
Max shook his head, straightened, and slid out of the truck.
No doubt to get away from her.
Standing there in the glare of the headlights, legs spread, feet solidly planted against the wind and snow, he looked tough as hell.
But so was she, she reminded herself.
So she got out and stood next to him.
“What are you doing?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the wind. “Get back inside.”
She couldn’t. She had to know; it was killing her. “What did I cost you, Max?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. He was watching the highway, clearly willing a car to come along that he could flag down. But there was no one but her.
“Max, please,” she said. “Just tell me.”
He inhaled deeply. “Cindy got suspended,” he said. “A hand slap, considering. They didn’t know it was me in the tape but I had to—” He shook his head. “We’d already moved on from each other but I still couldn’t not say anything . . . ”
She wasn’t going to like this story, she could tell. “You came forward,” she guessed.
He shrugged, like there’d been no other option.
How had she not seen that coming? No way would a guy like Max let a girl take all the blame for something he’d been involved in as well.
“And then I was suspended too,” he said.
“Oh, Max,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry.”
He turned to her then, his eyes hard. “It wasn’t the suspension that got me. Hell, I deserved it. I did it. I was there and I knew we shouldn’t be and I’m just lucky I wasn’t expelled. But Coach . . . he was royally pissed off and looking for blood. He cut me from the team for misconduct, which broke the verbal contract I had to go play for Michigan State. They dumped me.”
She stared at him in horror. “But you were so good,” she said. “Why didn’t someone else pick you up?”
“Most teams were already full. After I graduated, I could’ve walked on somewhere and tried out, but we couldn’t afford for me to go anywhere without a guaranteed scholarship. So I didn’t.”
She told herself it was the wind and icy cold stinging her eyes. “Max, I—”
“If you’re about to say you’re sorry, save it.”
“But—”
“Someone’s coming,” he said, eyes sharp on the road. “Get back in the truck—”
“Max—”
“Dammit, Rory, this isn’t exactly safe, okay? We’re out on the highway, fairly defenseless. I want you locked in the truck until I see who stops for us.”
Okay, she got that, but she hated the idea of him being out here on his own.
He laughed a little harshly, as if reading her thoughts. “I might not have ended up with a degree but trust me, princess, I’m qualified for this.”
“Call me princess one more time and I’ll—”
“Truck,” he said tightly.
Getting that she was a liability at the moment, she did as he’d asked and got into the truck.
Which was when she realized it was empty of one oversized Doberman. “Carl?”
Nothing.
Where the hell had he gone? Realizing he must have escaped when she’d gotten out, she whirled back around to get her eyes on Max. She watched him step closer to the approaching car but not too close, bending down a little to peek into the passenger window when it slid down only a few inches.
He looked like quite the imposing figure, tall, built, fiercely serious in the moment, and she wondered what they were talking about.
Then he turned his head and looked right at her through the windshield and she knew. They were talking about her.
Max nodded to the person in the car and then he strode through the driving snow toward her.
“Max,” she said immediately when he came around, not to the driver’s side but to her passenger side and opened the door. “Carl’s gone.”
He stood there in the vee of space between the door and the body of the truck, sheltering her from the worst of the storm. “He probably went into the woods to do his business. He’ll be right back. About the car—”
“Are they going to help?” she asked.
“It’s a guy in a big hurry to get to his wife,” he said. “She’s in labor at the hospital in Tahoe. He promised to call for a tow truck as soon as he got over the summit and got any reception.”
“Do you think he will?”
Max shrugged. “I hope so. I know him, or I know who he is. He works with my older sister at the post office. He’s a good guy, married with three other kids. He says you can hitch a ride with him so you won’t miss Christmas morning. But you have to decide right this minute. He’s out of time.”
If she went, she could get home by dawn and make amends with her family. It was perfect and she was grateful for the offer but—
Max, apparently taking her silence as a yes, reached in to take her hand.
“No,” she said, resisting but not letting go of his hand. Her heart was pounding. She knew she should take this opportunity and go. That’s what this whole thing was all about—getting home in time. Or that’s what she thought it’d been all about.
But in that moment, she knew it was about far more. Like being a better person, one who put others first.
“No?” he repeated.
“No. Thank you but no. I’m not going when you’re stranded here with Carl missing.”
“I’ll find Carl,” he said.
“You might need help,” she insisted. “I’m not leaving you.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Rory, I can handle this.”
“Maybe.” Okay, definitely. Not the point. She wasn’t walking away from a friend. And yeah, maybe at the moment they weren’t friends exactly, but they were . . . something. “I’m still not leaving you out here alone in this storm on the side of the road,” she said. “So tell him thank you and good luck to him and his wife but I’m staying with you.”
Max looked at her as if she’d lost her damn mind but he strode back to the car, said a few words, and then the car was gone, leaving them alone on top of the world in a massive blizzard.
Max whistled for Carl but the wind was so loud, the sound got swallowed up.
Rory slipped out of the truck and back into the mind numbing cold to make her way to Max. “Carl!” she yelled and nearly got blown over by the next gust of wind.
Max caught her and held her at his side. “You could’ve gotten home,” he said. “You know you’re crazy, right?” he asked.
Yes, she knew. And yeah, her whole purpose had been to show her family she’d changed but hey, there’d be plenty of time to stress about that later. “This is for Carl, not you.”
He choked out a rough laugh. “You’re still crazy,” he said but he’d kept his arm around her, holding her close. And he didn’t sound quite as mad at her anymore.
Which might have just been wishful thinking on her part.
“Carl!” Max yelled, using the hand that wasn’t holding onto her to cup around his mouth. “Carl, come!”
From out of the woods came a huge snow abomination. When it was only a few feet from them, it stopped, shook, and sent snow flying.
Carl.
Proud of himself, he sat happily at their feet and panted a smile, whil
e Rory fought with relieved tears.
What was wrong with her tonight?
Max got them all back into the truck. He dried off Carl the best he could and then turned to Rory.
She had no idea that she’d lost the battle with her emotions until Max cupped her face and swiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “Rory,” he said, voice low and concerned.
“Does Christmas always have to suck so hard?” she whispered.
He looked at her for a long beat and then slowly shook his head. “No. Not always.”
They stared at each other some more and then . . . he kissed her. Softly at first, carefully, but she didn’t need either and let him know by fisting her hands in his jacket and letting out a needy little whimper for more.
This wrenched a deep, rough male groan from him that rumbled up from his chest, and she clutched at him, trying to get closer. Before she knew it, he’d hauled her over the console and into his lap, tucking her thighs on either side of his, letting her feel exactly how his body had responded to the kiss. He was hard.
Everywhere.
Hungry for the connection, desperate to forget her problems, trembling in her boots for more of this man beneath her, she kissed him back with all the pent-up longing and need she felt. When they broke free, his eyes were heavy-lidded with lust and desire, and she had one single, devastating thought.
All these years later, she still wanted him as her own.
Chapter Six
MAX DIDN’T OFTEN act without deliberate conscious thought. In his job, his life depended on him being a clear, levelheaded thinker at all times.
But at the moment, with the wind and snow beating up his truck on the outside, the interior both dark and intimate, his tongue halfway down Rory’s throat, he couldn’t kick-start his brain or mobilize his thoughts. All he could do was feel. And, Christ, what he felt. Rory’s loose hair streaming over his shoulders and arms as she strained against him, her petite body chilled enough to sink in and concern him—which was an excuse to wrap her up even tighter in his arms.
Better.
Carl gave a happy “wuff,” and clearly thinking they were all going to wrestle, he tried to stick his big, fat head in between them.
Rory choked out a laugh and gave the dog a playful shove and then, in what might have been Max’s favorite part of the day, hell his entire year, Rory slid her fingers back into his hair and kissed him.
Yeah, that worked. Big time. He tried to keep it light but she kept responding with more than he expected, sweeping her tongue into his mouth, sliding it sensually against his, and he was a goner. With a groan, he tightened his grip on her and gave her all he had.
She whispered his name, her voice filled with such longing that it reached deep inside his chest and squeezed around his heart. She was still straddling him, her knees tucked on either side of his hips, and then she rocked against his killer hard-on and he forgot to breathe. But breathing was optional anyway as he kissed her hungrily, completely lost in her, just gone.
When she finally pulled free, she was breathless, her eyes dazed, her lips full and wet. “What was that for?” she asked softly.
He had no idea. She was driving him crazy. Since the day he’d begun working in the same building as her and he’d realized that there was a serious chemistry between them, she’d been driving him crazy. But this was a whole new level of crazy, the kind that made him want to get her naked so he could warm her up in the most basic of ways.
Not good.
None of this was good, this seeing new sides of her that he didn’t want to see. Rory sharing everything she had, Rory being sweet and kind. Resourceful. And incredibly courageous. And, Christ, but he really loved that about her. She’d been through hell and was here on the other side, stronger than ever.
The thing was, in his life, he took care of people. Clients at work. Coworkers. Carl. His friends. His family. Although . . . it hadn’t escaped him who’d been taking care of who on this trip.
“Max?”
“I don’t know what that was,” he said. “You turn me upside down.”
She let out a snort. Clearly he wasn’t the only one off his axis.
Headlights came up behind them, uncomfortably close. All he could see in the dark night was that the vehicle was large. Possibly a tow truck, hopefully a tow truck but possibly not, and he carefully nudged Rory off his lap and back to her seat. Her eyes widened when he leaned forward to grab the Maglite he’d left at his feet and his jacket raised up, clearly revealing the gun at the small of his back.
“What—”
“Wait here,” he said, and then he slid out of the truck, locking it behind him. They were on a deserted road in a damn blizzard.
Sitting ducks.
But it was a tow truck. “Got a call,” the driver said, hopping out. “Bad battery?”
“Yeah, if you can just give me a jump, I should be able to get it home and replace it.”
The guy nodded and they went to work.
“Hopefully you get all the way through,” the tow truck driver said when they had Max’s truck running again. “I heard they’re going to close the road five miles up. There’s a wreck that they might not get cleared until morning.”
Hell. “Thanks.” He got back into his truck and looked at Rory. And Carl too, since he was once again in her lap, the big baby. Max didn’t feel like smiling but that’s exactly what he did since his dog was bigger than she was. “Shouldn’t you be in his lap?”
She had her arms wrapped around Carl in a hug and they looked pretty comfy. “He wanted a snuggle.”
No shit. Any male in his right mind would want a snuggle from Rory. The thought surprised him. But it was the utter truth. “We can go back,” he said, “or we can forge forward with no guarantee. What’s your vote?”
She looked surprised. “You’re giving me a say?”
“Yes,” he said. “Merry Christmas.”
She rolled her eyes but stared at him some more, her expression going solemn and serious. Whatever her thoughts, they were deep and troubled, and he knew it was related to why she was in such a desperate hurry to get home.
“I vote forge forward,” she finally said.
He nodded. “Forward it is then.”
But three minutes later he was second-guessing their decision. The snow had gotten worse and so had the driving conditions.
“I get why you’re mad at me,” Rory said quietly. “And I know it won’t help anything, but . . . ”
“I don’t need an apology from you,” he said. He felt her gaze on him but kept his on the road. “Shit.”
“What?”
He pointed to the flashing sign ahead: Highway closed three miles ahead.
Take next exit to turn around.
She didn’t speak, but her sucked in gasp spoke volumes. They were silent as he got off at the exit. They were in a very small mountain town. Actually town might be a bit overstated. There was a gas station, a convenience store, and a tiny motel. Emphasis on tiny.
Max pulled into the lot. “I’m going to ask you one more time—go back or stay and get rooms?”
She bit her lower lip.
“It’s one in the morning,” he said. “I’m exhausted. You look exhausted.”