Revved to the Maxx

by Melanie Moreland

  I knew I couldn’t spend the rest of my life living in a room in the back of a garage, but for now, it was what I needed. I hoped Maxx would keep me on so I could find my feet and save some money, then decide what I wanted to do. I wasn’t sure my future included Toronto. Growing up, I longed for the city and the lure of excitement. Living there was a different matter altogether. Maybe small-town living was more my style. But I needed time to figure it out, and I wanted to stay here.

  I pushed the bicycle forward, steering it into the empty bay at the side. It needed some work, but I wasn’t afraid of getting my hands dirty. As long as Maxx was still okay with me fixing it up and riding it. I ran a hand through my tangled hair, suddenly feeling tired.

  If Maxx wanted an employee, that was what he’d get. I was going to do my job so well he would forget about anything else. I would stay busy, out of his way, and avoid being alone with him, and, above all else, arguing with him. That seemed to cause trouble every time.

  I would treat him the way I treated my old boss, Peter. With respect and decorum. Peter always said I was invaluable to him, and I wanted to be that for Maxx as well, so I could stay.

  I tried not to think about the fact that I never wanted to feel Peter’s hands on my body or that I found Maxx utterly irresistible.

  I simply had to put aside the overwhelming roar of lust that blasted through my body every time Maxx growled or glared at me. Forget the way it felt as his body moved with mine. The way he tasted and felt. How he made me feel desired, sexy, and safe.

  I could do that. From this moment on, he was only my boss. Nothing more.

  Easy peasy.

  Maxx came into the garage the next morning, going straight to his workbench. I hadn’t gone to the house last night, figuring it was best to keep my distance. There were plenty of leftovers for him to eat, and I wasn’t hungry. I spent the night organizing my room and chatting with Kelly via text. She hated talking on the phone, so we always texted instead. I didn’t tell her much about Maxx except to say he was tough but I was enjoying my job.

  Her news was far more interesting.

  Kelly: Terry’s been arrested.

  Charly: What?

  Kelly: Another tenant complained. She found him in her apartment and screamed down the place, called the cops and the local news. He’s up on breaking and entering and harassment charges. He was fired from his job and is in jail. A few other people came forward.

  Charly: Holy moly. I sent a letter to the cops and the owner of the building before I left Toronto.

  Kelly: The news piece said they had other complaints from former tenants too. Maybe they meant you.

  Charly: Wow. He deserves it. I wonder if they will contact me.

  Kelly: I think they have lots of other people, but they might. They found a lot of little, ah, “souvenirs” he took from people’s places.

  I shook my head, staring at the screen.

  Charly: Ugh. I always thought I lost stuff. I hope he rots in prison. At least he is out of the building.

  Kelly: For sure.

  Then she went on to tell me she was off on another trip with her photographer, this time a longer one, and promised to let me know when she got home. I wondered if she would ever get tired of her nomadic lifestyle and settle down. But Kelly loved her life, and if it made her happy, then that was all that mattered. By the time we stopped texting and I checked out the articles on Terry, my mind was racing over the whole situation and not simply on Maxx’s overreaction.

  He was not the same this morning, his usual anger-driven stance missing. He moved differently, not stomping or striding quickly. His shoulders were hunched, not the ramrod straight posture I was used to seeing.

  Was he ill?

  I worried my lip as I wondered what I should do. Take him coffee? Ignore him?

  Finally, I decided normalcy was the best route. I poured him a coffee, grabbed my notebook, and went out front. He was sitting at the workbench, staring at a file folder. He didn’t notice me approaching, so I cleared my throat.

  “Morning, boss.”

  He looked up, and my breath caught in my throat. Exhaustion was etched into his face, the lines around his eyes deep.

  The urge to step forward, cradle his face in my hands, and kiss him was strong. I wanted to take him to his room, pull him down on his bed, and hold him while he slept.

  Except I couldn’t do that. He didn’t want my touch.

  I held out his coffee, and he took it, carefully avoiding touching my fingers. “Morning,” he rasped.

  “I’ve gotten in touch with everyone who had outstanding invoices. There are only a handful still waiting to pay—they’ll be coming in this week with their payments. I’m going to the bank this morning to make the deposits.”

  He sipped his coffee in silence. He focused his gaze somewhere over my shoulder.

  “If you want to leave, Charlynn, I’ll give you a month’s salary and take you to the bus. There’s one that heads to Toronto from Lomand tomorrow.”

  I stared at him.

  “I apologize for my behavior.” He scrubbed his face. “I’ll give you a reference if that helps.”

  His words surprised me, but it was the tone he used to say them. Quiet. Worried. Removed.

  He fully expected me to accept his offer and walk away. I probably should. The thousand dollars would tide me over until I found something else. Except I didn’t want to go.

  “Thanks for the offer, Maxx, but I think I’ll stay.”

  He frowned, running a hand through his hair. “Why?”

  I shrugged. “I like it here. Organizing this place is a challenge, and I like challenges. I feel safe here, and frankly, I don’t want to go back to Toronto.”

  He studied me for a moment, his shoulders losing a little of the tension. “You didn’t feel safe in Toronto? Because of your landlord?”

  I recalled Mary’s words when she told me Maxx and I had a lot in common. I leaned against the workbench, staying a safe distance from Maxx. I met his curious gaze and told him everything.

  “I came home from work one day to find out my roommate was a thief. Aside from a few things she left behind, my apartment was empty, all my money gone, my bank accounts drained, and she had disappeared. Her name, everything, had been fake.”

  His eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Then, to make matters worse, I lost my job and found out Trish had been trading sexual favors for the rent money I gave her. So, I was behind on my rent, and my ever-helpful landlord offered to let me take her place until I could find the money.”

  His eyes narrowed, and his hands clenched into fists. “He threatened you.”

  “Yes. And since I told you the story of how that went for him at the bar the other night, you know I refused.” I shivered simply at the thought. “He was vile.”

  I met his angry gaze. “I tried so hard to be brave, Maxx, but I was terrified about what he would do to me if he caught me. He was so…awful. I was equally nervous about your posting, but I was desperate.” I swallowed. “I knew you thought I was a guy, but I decided working for a curmudgeon who was angry was better than staying there. I was sure I could get you to come around and appreciate my work, not my gender.”

  He didn’t say anything, and I told him about my terror and how I didn’t relax until the bus pulled away and my sheer relief at escaping that part of my life. I explained about the wallets and the money, laying it all on the table.

  He listened, his expression intense. His brows drew down in anger at parts, his frown constant, but he never interrupted.

  I blew out a long breath. “So, basically, I figured you’d be annoyed, but I had to get away. I thought once you saw how good a job I did, you wouldn’t be annoyed anymore. I had no idea all I would do was annoy you once I got here.” I lifted my shoulder. “Or the reaction it would cause between us.”

  He lifted a brow. “Annoyance isn’t the main issue here, Charly.”

  I was quick to reassure him. “W
hat happens is mutual, Maxx. You don’t owe me an apology.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Then I accept it.”

  “I don’t want you to feel as if—” He huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to feel unsafe because of me. I am not the kind of man your landlord was. I’m not trying to take advantage of you.”

  I was touched by his words. “Oh heavens. I know that. You’re nothing like him, Maxx. What happens between us is mutual,” I assured him. “I understand you wanting to draw the line, but at no time have you ever taken advantage or made me feel unsafe.”

  “Good.” He grunted, sipping his coffee, clearly uncomfortable. “I would hate that,” he muttered so low I almost didn’t hear him.

  I told him the news that Kelly had shared about Terry.

  “Will you have to go into Toronto to give a statement?” He scowled.

  “I called the cops this morning. They said the chances were unlikely. They have a lot of complaints against him now. If I’m needed, they’ll be in touch.”

  “I’ll take you if you have to go.”

  “Oh. You don’t have to do that.”

  He grunted. “Yes, yes, I do.”

  I ignored the flutter of pleasure his insistence made me feel. I let his words go and moved back to the gist of our conversation.

  “I had no idea who you were that night in the bar,” I confessed. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

  “I know how you feel. I was pretty damned shocked myself.”

  “Don’t send me away, Maxx. I’ll do my job and leave you alone. I promise.”

  “What happened last night—” he began, but I interrupted him.

  “Won’t happen again. I get it. We’re both adults, we can figure it out.”

  “Let me finish,” he growled, and I tried not to giggle. He sounded like Maxx again.

  “I was rough and said some things I shouldn’t have said. Seeing that emblem hit me and brought up some bad memories. I’m sorry I pushed you away, and I’m sorry I yelled. But the bottom line is, we can’t keep doing this. I’m not in the market for a relationship, and you aren’t the kind of girl who sleeps with her boss with no chance of a future.” He met my eyes, his dark and serious, although I was certain I heard a trace of regret in his undertone. “Because there is zero chance, Charly. Let me be clear on that.”

  I swallowed my hurt. “I get it. I just want to do my job. Give me a chance.”

  “Fine. You have the rest of your month trial.”

  “I haven’t finished my two-week one yet,” I teased.

  “You’ve proven yourself enough,” he muttered and turned back to his workbench. “Don’t you have things you can do now?” he asked pointedly.

  “Yowsers. Bossy much?” I quipped and stalked away, trying to get him to smile.

  “You know it,” he called over his shoulder.

  I headed back to the office, sitting down heavily in the chair. I felt relief over the fact that I could stay. We had set some ground rules, which we both had to adhere to. I peeked up through the glass. Maxx was leaning on the workbench, holding his coffee but not moving. He looked oddly despondent, and I wondered how much had to do with his decision and how much had to do with the memories seeing that emblem had evoked.

  Whatever situation that emblem was attached to was a minefield. He told me he had restored an Indian Chief motorcycle, and I wondered if that had anything to do with it. Add in the Tramp and the ex-friend Mary spoke about, and I had a feeling the story was complex and deep.

  I pulled my laptop close and decided to run a few reports then finish in the storeroom. I needed to stay busy and productive. If I didn’t, I would give in and try to comfort Maxx. I knew if I did that, I’d be back on a bus, no matter what I wanted.

  And I really didn’t want to leave.

  I stuck to my word the rest of the week. I did my job, stayed clear of Maxx, and finished up the storeroom to stay busy. By the weekend, it was organized, and I had found a treasure trove of pictures and small items that would look great in the garage and the office. I even had plans for the small room in the front that sat unused and vacant. Maxx admitted it used to be a waiting room, but he had done away with it. I planned on showing him why it was needed. In the evenings, I worked on designing a new logo and website. Maxx had told me that picture I had seen was his father, although he wasn’t sure how it got on the web. I found the fact that the man who could disassemble any engine, manifold, or carburetor and piece it back together so it worked perfectly yet couldn’t grasp the workings of the internet, strangely endearing.

  Not that I would ever tell him that.

  Saturday morning, I used the car Maxx had fixed and drove to Lomand for groceries. They had a large grocery store with a bigger selection than the small general store in Littleburn. The car drove like a dream—smooth and quiet. Hardly a surprise given what I had seen of Maxx and his work. He was meticulous and cared about the work he did. Even a simple oil change was done carefully. He reminded me of my dad with his old-fashioned attitude toward customer service. No job was too small, no question stupid. I had noticed there were only a few women customers, which surprised me. If I lived here and had a car, I’ll be yanking on wires weekly just to come and see him.

  In the store, I picked up all the items on my list—and the ones Maxx had added when I told him I was going. He left the list and cash on the office desk last night before he walked out of the garage. I had watched him, feeling sad. It was hard to believe it had only been a week since I had first seen his intense gaze and felt his mouth on mine. So much had happened, it felt like a lifetime. I wanted to ask him to come to the store with me, just to spend more time with him, but I knew that was crossing the line he had set.

  As I shopped, I added a few items. I had noticed that while he ate well and took care of himself, Maxx had a bit of a sweet tooth, and his favorite was pie. He had finished the entire pie I had made, and I noticed he casually checked the cupboard I had kept it in every day, looking for more. He never said a word, though. I planned on making a few pies to put in the freezer this weekend. I was so intent on my task I never noticed the people around me until a voice spoke close to my ear.

  “Well, who have we here?”

  I looked up with a frown, meeting the frosty gaze of a familiar-looking man. He was average height, dirty-blond hair, and a permanent scowl on his face. Not the attractive, broody expression Maxx wore, but a discontented, malicious type of glare. I didn’t like the way he stared at me, and my fists tightened on the cart handle.

  “I’m sorry, have we met?” I asked.

  He sneered at me. “You gonna pretend you don’t remember meeting me in the bar last week?” He glanced around. “No bodyguard today?”

  It clicked this was the guy who had gotten in my face and Maxx had escorted from the bar. Donner, I think he called him. Wes Donner. I lifted my chin. “I don’t need a bodyguard. Nor do I need your attitude. I wasn’t interested last week, and I’m still not interested. Go away.”

  I moved past him, but his hand shot out, grabbing my cart. “You need to learn some manners.”

  “Unless you want a repeat of what happened in the bar to happen here, I suggest you move to the side, asshole,” I stated clearly. “I assume you don’t want all these people to be witness to a girl taking you down…again.”

  His glare became frostier. “Uppity little bitch,” he muttered but stepped away.

  “Have a lovely day.” I moved away fast, refusing to let him see the fact that he made me nervous. I looked over my shoulder, seeing another man join him. They looked similar, so I assumed it was his brother. Maxx had mentioned they were troublemakers in town who liked to throw their weight around.

  I turned the corner and pushed them from my mind. I refused to let them intimidate me. I didn’t see them again as I left the store. I drove back to Littleburn, enjoying the scenery, planning out meals in my head. It didn’t seem to matter what I cooked, Maxx ate it up. He liked si
mple, good food. He ate a lot of salads, vegetables, and fruit, and I had seen him go into the barn daily to work out, so I knew he took good care of himself.

  After talking to Mary last night, I had bought a lot of strawberries and blueberries at the store and planned on spending my time off at her place. We were going to bake pies, using the rhubarb she had in her garden. I would put them in the freezer, so Maxx could have a piece anytime he wanted.

  Maybe my pies would be the deciding factor for me staying. I would do anything to make sure that happened.

  Back at the house, I unloaded the groceries, then headed to the garage. Maxx was finishing off a job, and I handled the final payment, trying not to be too pleased when I saw he had collected money from everyone who had been there this morning.

  He was rolling the overhead door shut as I came from the office. I watched his muscles flex, thinking of his strength. It was evident in the way he handled equipment with ease, how he moved and shifted. He was extremely sexy, and what made it even sexier was he didn’t seem to notice—he was just Maxx.

  He wiped his hands and indicated the end bay. “I put the new tires on the bike. I got a new seat as well. The other one was in rough shape.”

  “Thank you.” I hurried over, looking at the bike. He followed, and I felt his close proximity without turning.

  “You sure you want to take this, ah, wherever you’re going?” he asked. “You can take the car.”

  “No, I want to ride the bike. It’s only to Mary’s.”

  “You’re going to Mary’s?” he queried, surprised.

  “Yes, we’re going to bake pies, and I’m going to help her weed her garden.”

  “Huh,” he muttered.