Revved to the Maxx

by Melanie Moreland

  Even if, as he insisted, it never happened.

  I turned, crossing my arms. “Okay. I’ll unpack later. Next.”

  His mouth tightened, and I wanted to stick out my tongue at him. He had hoped I would see where I was going to stay and want to leave. But he didn’t know how stubborn I could be—nor did he realize I had literally nowhere to go and no way to get there, even if I did. Once I paid for the bus ticket, my meal, and motel room, I had less than fifty bucks. I had to make this work.

  He brushed past me, and I tried hard not to inhale his intoxicating scent. He might be acting like a bastard, but he certainly smelled good.

  I followed him back through the garage, noting the contrast to the office. Everything was in its place, and it was meticulous. Large, with three bays, it was well-laid-out. I would have to investigate it later as I hurried to keep up with Maxx. We walked about fifty feet, him not saying anything until we got closer to a two-story house.

  “Rufus will barrel out the door. He doesn’t bite, but let him come to you,” he said, his voice warmer as he spoke about his dog, but still removed.

  “Sure.”

  I stood back and waited as he opened the door, and a large dog loped out. He pushed against Maxx, happy to see him. Maxx, in turn, stroked his great head, murmuring low to him, and the dog gazed up at him adoringly. Then he spotted me and trotted over. I remained still, holding out my hand. He sniffed me, then lifted his head and let me stroke him. He was affectionate and happy, his tail wagging. I liked him.

  “Enough,” Maxx snapped. “Rufus, heel.”

  Immediately, Rufus returned to Maxx’s side, and I heard him mutter “traitor” under his breath before pushing open the side door and letting it shut behind him. I rolled my eyes but followed, walking into a large mudroom. I stepped into the next room, taking it in. The kitchen was huge, with white cupboards, pretty trim, and well-worn butcher-block counters. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink. Otherwise, it had a neglected look to it. Dusty, unused, and needing attention. There was a dining room, with a huge farm table piled high with more boxes on top and around it, one space cleared where Maxx obviously ate. Ahead was a living room, a big fireplace in the center. It was a well-proportioned room, but sparse. There were plain white walls, no pictures or anything personal around. A TV hung on the wall, one chair in front of it, and a sofa pushed against the far wall. It needed attention.

  Maxx let me wander, not saying anything, leaning against the counter in the kitchen. Rufus kept me company as I explored. The stairs divided the house, the central hall the focal point. There was a nice bathroom off the kitchen, and opposite it, behind the living room, was a bedroom—unused and piled with more boxes. I trialed my fingers over them, noting these were of a more personal nature, labeled and stacked neatly. Looking at the fading wallpaper and the old-fashioned bed frame dismantled and resting against the wall, I had the impression this room stored Maxx’s parents’ most prized possessions. Feeling as if I were intruding, I left the room, shutting the door behind me.

  I hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. I glanced to the left, where Maxx was now leaning against the doorframe, watching me in silence. I tilted my head toward the stairs, and he pushed off the door and went ahead of me. At the head of the stairs was a set of barn doors which he bypassed and showed me the other two bedrooms. Both had a bed and dresser but were obviously unused. There was another bathroom, this one with a claw-foot tub, and I wondered if I might be allowed to use it. If, that was, I made it past my trial period.

  Maxx hesitated then opened the barn doors. I stepped inside, knowing it was his room. His scent saturated it. Manly, woodsy, and warm. He had a huge bed made from rough wood, and the oak floors were stripped and wide. Through the open doors, I could see one side of the room had a closet and the other a bathroom. It was tidy, but like the rest of the house, neglected and sterile. All the walls were white, and there was little in the way of pictures or personal touches.

  It felt as if Maxx was existing, not living.

  “Seen enough?” he asked.

  “Lots of work to be done,” I replied lightly.

  “Sort of the reason for my ad,” he responded, walking ahead of me down the stairs.

  “Easy peasy.” I sniffed. “I look forward to it.”

  In the kitchen, I opened the fridge and the cupboards, growing more confused at the empty shelves. There were some staples—sugar, peanut butter, coffee, and the fridge held a large selection of condiments, but there was little in the way of groceries, aside from some canned goods.

  I turned to look at him, aghast. “Where is your food?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t cook well. I buy enough food for a week. I usually shop on Saturday afternoons.” He smirked. “Which is now your job, Charly. Get to it.”

  I placed a hand on my hip and arched one eyebrow. I held up my phone, showing him the ad he had placed. “Huh. Would ya look at that? The ad said Saturday afternoons and Sundays are free.”

  He glowered. God, he was handsome when he did that. It really should be illegal. I shouldn’t enjoy it as much as I did, but there was a little flutter in my chest, regardless.

  “It’s either shopping today, or we both go hungry this week. Your choice.”

  “Fine.” Then I paused. “How will I pay for the food?”

  He snorted. “A, if you think I’m going to hand over the keys and a pile of cash and let you leave, you’re crazier than I think you are. I’m not that stupid, Red—” he paused, flustered, color creeping up on his neck “—I mean, Charly. I’m driving you into town, and I’ll pay for the groceries. And B, I think you lied about being able to drive my truck. I doubt you can even see over the dashboard.”

  “I can so,” I protested, even though I wondered if he was right. The thing was massive. “I’ve driven a truck before.”

  “Not this one.”

  We glared at each other, and I tried not to notice the way his eyes looked in the bright light of the kitchen. Dark and deadly, the small lines around them only emphasizing the sexiness of his stare. If only he wouldn’t ruin the image by talking. But that was impossible.

  “It’s your job to make the list, plan whatever you need, and do the cooking.” He glanced at his watch, a chunky silver one that showed off his tanned forearms. I noticed a woven leather strap above the metal and a set of smooth beads. “You have twenty minutes.”

  I looked around, spying a cup with some pens. I found an old envelope and began to write. Lists, I excelled at.

  “Bring your debit card, buddy. You need a lot of shit.”

  He strode from the room. “I have a feeling you are going to enjoy being the person to give me that shit.”

  “Gosh dang right, I am,” I called after him, scribbling furiously.

  Before we left, Maxx made me get behind the wheel of his truck. He lifted the seat as high as it would go, pushing it forward. I felt like a child behind the steering wheel, but I refused to show him my fear. “It’s fine. I can drive this.”

  He laughed, actually sounding amused instead of angry. “You can barely reach the pedals. There is no way you can work the clutch and shift.” He moved the seat back into the position he used. I could barely climb out of the truck, and he didn’t offer to help. I almost fell trying, and with a curse, he caught me, setting me on my feet and shaking his head. “Yep. Good job, Charly. You are never driving this truck.”

  I wanted to stamp my feet. “Holy moly, that isn’t fair. You haven’t even let me try. I can learn. Otherwise, I can’t do your errands, and you’ll use it as an excuse to fire me.”

  He waved his hand. “We’ll call a draw on this one. I’ll figure out an alternative.” He glanced toward a barn sitting behind the house, rubbing at his scruff, thinking.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Get in the truck,” he replied, shaking his head.

  I crossed to the other side, scrambling in.

  “Not exactly graceful there, Charly,” he mocked.
/>   “Yowsers. Running boards would help,” I muttered.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said running boards would help.” I threw up my hands in frustration. “Look, I can’t help it if I’m only five feet four. Or a girl. I know you hate it, but I’m here. I’m sorry, all right? Your truck was obviously built for a freaking giant. Stop finding things to find fault with. Save your breath. You can’t growl and bitch me out of here, so stop chapping my ass. You’re stuck with me for the next two weeks, so shut up, drive us to the store so I can get groceries and go home to start doing the job you hired me for.” I crossed my arms, staring out the window. The truck was silent, and I wondered if I had said too much. Pushed him too far. Maybe he was going to tell me to go get my suitcase and get out. But I couldn’t waver.

  There was an odd sound, almost a begrudging chuckle, then he started the truck. “Fine, Charly. Let’s go get groceries.”

  I considered that my first victory.

  In the store, Maxx followed me around like a silent shadow. More like a growly grizzly bear at times, but he didn’t say much or protest as I filled the cart, but he made some odd noises. He added a few things that I assumed he liked. I made notes to keep apples, pears, and bananas on hand. He also seemed to like fresh veggies, so the cart was loaded with lots of those. It made up for the horrid “healthy choice” meals his freezer contained. I stocked up on staples, meat, and other items—including the makings of my lemon pie. Maybe that would soften him up a little.

  He paid the bill, helped load the groceries, and even unloaded at the other end. He answered my questions as I thought of them on the drive back, keeping his replies short.

  “What hours is the shop open?”

  “Eight to four. Monday to Friday. Appointments after hours and Saturday.”

  “Do you only do restorations?”

  “No.”

  “So, you’re a full-service garage?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many mechanics?”

  His hands tightened on the wheel before he responded to that question.

  “Me.”

  I frowned. That seemed unusual.

  “I saw your website. It needs updating.” I didn’t mention the picture. That was obviously not Maxx. Maybe his dad?

  He grunted. “Hence the job, Charly. Keep up.”

  I looked out the window. “I can keep up no problem, grump. Easy peasy.”

  I felt his glower, but I didn’t look at him.

  “Anything you don’t like?”

  “We covered that at the bus stop.”

  I rolled my eyes and huffed. “Holy moly, you’re a hard nut to crack. I meant food-wise, buddy.”

  “A little late to ask since you just spent all my money on food.”

  “Yowsers, you were right there, big boy. And obviously, you have a voice that you like to use to berate me.”

  He huffed.

  “And,” I continued, “since you’re not paying me, consider that part of the payment.”

  He shocked me when he pulled the truck into his driveway and parked it.

  “You do your job, you’ll get paid, Charly.” He swung himself out of the vehicle, staring at me across the seat. “You have two weeks. Impress me.”

  He shut the door, and I had to smile. I planned on impressing him, all right. In two weeks, he’d be lost without me.

  After we got back, Maxx disappeared. I assumed he went to the shop, but I didn’t ask. I relaxed a little without him watching me. Envious, I watched Rufus out in the sun, rolling on the grass. I had no time for fun today. I got busy, quickly dusting out shelves and loading them up with groceries. The fridge was clean, and by the time I finished, full. I had no idea what to do about dinner. Did I make it and we would eat together? Leave it for Maxx to eat when he wanted? Too tired of fighting and knowing I had a lot of long days ahead of me, I made a simple dinner of baked chicken and rice, threw together a salad, then ate alone, standing at the counter. The kitchen already looked better, the counters gleaming, the cupboards full and clean. I stretched my tired muscles and left dinner in the oven, then headed to the garage. I bumped into Maxx partway across the grass. He and Rufus looked windblown and relaxed, although Rufus looked happier to see me than Maxx did.

  “How do I get to the room?” I asked. “Does the side door lock as well?”

  For the first time since I arrived, he didn’t snap at me or behave rudely. “Yes. And there is an alarm. Come, and I’ll show you.”

  I followed him, and he took me through the simple steps.

  “So, will it go off in the morning if I walk through the garage?”

  “No. Only if the windows or doors are opened. The alarm sounds inside the house, so I would hear it.” He handed me three keys. “One for the side door, one for the room, one for the house”

  I took the keys, trying to ignore the heat I felt as his fingers brushed against mine.

  “You’re sure I won’t sneak in and murder you in your sleep?”

  “Tempted, Charly?”

  “There are moments,” I replied. I swore I saw his lips quirk, but I must have imagined it. He stared at me, and I cleared my throat.

  “Okay. Your dinner is in the oven. Salad in the fridge.”

  “What about you?”

  I couldn’t resist. “Oh, the big man cares.”

  He rolled his eyes, glaring at me again. “I don’t want you dropping from hunger. I don’t have time to look after you.” He stomped to the door.

  “I ate already,” I informed him.

  “Fine.” He yanked open the door, pausing to enter the code on the alarm. “Charly,” he called over his shoulder.

  I turned, expecting another rebuke about not setting off the alarm or something. Instead, he surprised me. “You’ll be perfectly safe here.”

  He shut the door before I could respond.

  Chapter 9

  MAXX

  I walked into the house, the scent of dinner filling my head. I couldn’t recall the last time I had walked in to such a homey smell. Shannon hadn’t been a great cook and I sucked at it, so meals had been either from a box, the one pizza place in town, or the barbecue. I did a good job on the grill, when I bothered to try. Since she left, I hadn’t bothered once.

  I opened the oven and took out the casserole, inhaling. My mouth watered at the aroma, and I filled my plate, carrying it to the table, surprised to see the spot I usually sat in tidy, with a place mat and cutlery waiting.

  I tried the chicken and rice, almost moaning at the flavor. It was simple but delicious, and I was starving. As I ate, I glanced out the window, wondering what Red was doing.

  I shook my head.

  Charly. She was Charly, and I had to think of her that way.

  I had to admit, as I’d suspected, she was a feisty one. She hadn’t shrunk from me once today, no matter how much I snarled or sniped at her. In fact, she gave as good as she got, at times making me want to laugh. There were moments I had to look away in order not to do so. Her facial expressions were amusing—she would make a horrible poker player—she was far too expressive to keep her emotions hidden. In the store, she was efficient, loading the cart, muttering to herself. At times, it was as if she was checking off a recipe in her head, adding the ingredients. She used odd expressions. Gosh dang it. Easy peasy. Holy moly. Would ya look at that. Yowsers. Chap my ass. They dotted her mutterings and entered her conversation. If she didn’t annoy me so much, I might find them, and her, adorable.

  But I didn’t.

  I filled my plate again and opened the fridge to get the salad. I stopped and looked inside. It was clean, organized, and full. The counters were spotless. She had certainly been busy.

  I sat back down and polished off another plateful. If this was how she cooked, I was okay with it. I glanced out the window again, feeling somewhat guilty. Would she be okay in the garage? I had expected her to throw a fit. Inform me she wouldn’t be sleeping in a room at the back of the garage. I had to admit, I had only t
aken her there to punish her. She’d told me to treat her the way I would the kid I had been expecting to show up, so I did. I fully anticipated giving in and carrying her broken suitcase into the house and giving her one of the other bedrooms, but she refused to rise to the bait. Instead, she was calm and surveyed the room, then asked to see the house.

  It was for the best. It was hard enough, knowing she was across the yard. If she had been down the hall, I wasn’t sure I could resist her. That goddamn gorgeous hair, her expressive eyes, and her smart mouth.

  What a mouth it was. Simply thinking about what it did to me last night made me hard.

  Never mind what her scent did to me. As I followed in her wake at the grocery store, she was all I could smell. Citrusy, musky, light, and feminine. I wasn’t sure if it was entirely the fragrance she wore, or if that combined with the essence of her made it so irresistible. More than once, I wanted to take her down right there and bury my face in her neck while I fucked her. I had no idea how she had such a hold over me. I barely knew her. I didn’t want to know her.

  I wasn’t in the market for a relationship. Especially with a smart-mouthed, redheaded, little snippet who liked to try to put me in my place. And she wasn’t the type for a sexual relationship without ties. I’d figured that out last night—it was a one-off for her. Her whispered little secrets and the way she wanted to be snuggled after. I refused to admit how good she had felt in my arms, or that I had succumbed to her whispers. I had nothing left emotionally to give anyone, so we would never work.

  She was an employee. Simple as that.

  I scrubbed my face, then rested my head in my hands, knowing my words were full of shit.

  I wanted her. And I was pretty sure she wanted me.

  Which one of us, I wondered, would break first?

  The next while would, at least, prove to be interesting.

  CHARLY

  I slept surprisingly well considering I was in a new place. When I got to my room the night before, I had been shocked to discover a new lock on the door. It was a simple metal slider, but with the other lock on the door handle, it gave me a measure of safety. Obviously, Maxx had added it and simply not said anything. He must have remembered what I told him about Terry and installed it for me. Despite his gruffness, he cared.