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Last Minute (Timeless Series Book 3)

Page 8

by Mayra Statham


  “Thank you, Sir,” I said roughly.

  “You got the ring?” he asked, and I nodded, taking it out of my pocket and handing him the small white box, then and watched Gerardo Montenegro’s face dissolve into genuine joy before meeting my gaze. “She’s is going to love that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Welcome to the family, son,” he said, standing, and I stood, meeting him halfway for a man hug.

  Leti

  “Max! Hurry up! We’re going to be late!” I shouted from the living room as I looked into my backpack, triple-checking we had everything we needed to catch our flight to Orlando, and from there we were going to fly to the Bahamas.

  He was in our bedroom, a little quieter than usual, but he got like that when it came to his shop. I had assumed it was due to the fact this was the longest amount of time he would be gone since he had opened it.

  “You know Logan won’t let anything happen to the shop,” I called over my shoulder, trying to be as supportive as I could. His best friend, Logan, the groom who had been left at the altar, was going to be taking care of the office part of the shop, and his other two buddies and mechanics would be taking care of all the scheduled cars and drive-ins.

  Maybe two weeks away was too much? Maybe we could cut our trip to seven days.

  “I’m not worried,” he said as he walked into the living room.

  “You look nice.” I smiled. He was in a black tee that clung to his muscular torso. I couldn’t wait to see him in nothing but swim trunks.

  “You do too, baby,” he said, lifting my bag and his in one hand and leaning in to kiss my neck. “Ready?”

  “Always.”

  We arrived at the airport with more than enough time, and he checked us in. We went to the airport bar and finally got on our flight. The couple of days leading to our trip had been exhausting. What with packing, Max’ weird mood, and my graduation. It felt like I sat down, rested my head on Max’ shoulder, and knocked out.

  “We will be arriving in Las Vegas shortly. It is a warm eighty-three degrees,” the pilot said in the loud speaker just as I woke up.

  “Vegas?” My eyes popped open and my heart tweaked in my chest. Vegas! What the hell? I looked at Max, but he didn’t look surprised. He was calm and cool.

  “Max! We’re in Vegas.”

  “I know. Don’t worry about it.” He shrugged like the mistake wasn’t huge. Like we weren’t in a whole other state.

  “Don’t worry about it? We’re supposed to be on our way to Florida, Max.”

  “We will be. Trust me.” He winked like he didn’t have a care in the world, and I was confused. Utterly baffled. I was the easygoing one when plans changed last minute. Not him!

  We got off the plane, and with our carry-ons in one arm and my hand in another, Max led us towards the front of the airport.

  “Max, where are we going? We need to get on another flight. We need to figure out what happened,” I said, stopping in my tracks, and he looked at me and licked his lips.

  “Trust me?”

  “You know I do—”

  “Good,” he cut me off. “Come on!” He pulled my arm, and I followed him. I mean, who was I kidding? I would follow Max anywhere.

  We got in a town car, and it took us to the Strip. The casinos were bright, and the streets filled with people walking up and down the streets. He was quiet, and I wasn’t asking questions; I was going to ride this out, and whatever was going to happen would.

  The car stopped and the driver slipped out and opened the door. Max slipped out, and when I slid down the seat, he was waiting for me with an arm out for me.

  “Ready?”

  “For?”

  “Last-minute change of plans.” He winked, and I took his hand trying to process his words. He hated last-minute changes. He pointed up at the hotel, and I laughed, loud, and covered my mouth. “It’s the hotel!”

  In all the time we had been together, we had been back to Vegas once but stayed off the Strip. Now we were back at the hotel where our paths had crossed.

  “Come on,” he said, and I followed, Hand in hand he rushed us through the casino and to the very spot where he got rid of the drunk creep. It wasn’t the same slot machine anymore, but it was the same spot of the casino floor.

  “You were right here,” he said, so much love shining through his eyes, and I couldn’t believe what he was doing. “I saw you before you saw me, and I wanted to figure out a way to get close and talk to you,” he shared, and I was rendered speechless. I opened and closed my mouth, trying to find something, anything, to say.

  “You did?” I asked.

  We had talked about so much through the years we’d been together, but this was the first time he had shared this with me. I knew something monumental was happening.

  “Oh yeah.” He grinned. “Then that guy came up to you and I lost my mind. I didn’t stop or think I should keep my cool, or anything. It was like a whole other side of me came alive,” he said, and a tear trickled out. “Everything seemed brighter. Better. And I lost my head and went at the guy. It was like something was pulling me right to you.”

  I smiled, and my nose stung as I sniffled.

  “Come on.” He tilted his head, and we walked towards the tables. We moved around the crowds, zig-zagging through, but he never let go of my hand. He stopped us and dropped our bags on the ground when we reached the table where I’d won big. The place I had first called him my last-minute good luck charm.

  “This is where you sparked me up to life,” he said, his voice grave and serious, almost nervous. “I saw how you were. You were like a live wire, and I wanted to live in that force field. I felt so damn alive with you, I felt like everything before that moment had been lived in muted grays.”

  “Max,” I whispered, and he held my hands with his as he looked at me.

  “We were tipsy and high on adrenaline, but fuck me, Leti, I think I fell in love with you right then and there.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, then the rest of the night was just as great, and when I woke up the next day and you were gone… I swear I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.”

  “But our paths crossed anyways.”

  “Thank fuck,” he said with so much relief in his voice I felt it.

  One of his hands left mine, and it moved to the back of my neck. His thumb grazing a sensitive spot, and it clicked. I knew what he was doing. He’d done it before. He was rubbing the spot he’d marked.

  “I left a hickey on you that night,” he whispered low enough I knew it was for my ears only. “I liked that I left it there. I know it sounds barbaric, but I liked knowing I’d somehow claimed you.”

  “Perv,” I teased with a small smile.

  “I think it’s time I mark you again.”

  “You do, huh?” I flirted, wagging my brows. “I wouldn’t mind a hickey.”

  “Hmm, I was thinking something a little more… permanent?”

  “A tattoo?” I guessed, and he laughed, dropping his hand as he pulled me in and hid his face in the crook of my neck.

  “I love how after all this time I still don’t know what you’re going to say.” I stilled. “Don’t go there. You know I love that about you. How because of you I get to have a lifetime full of surprises.”

  “Max,” I sighed and smiled.

  There were so many sides to Max, but one of my top favorites was ultra-romantic Max. He didn’t show up a lot, usually because Max didn’t need to. His actions spoke for him and how he felt. Never in the time we had been together had I wondered where I stood with him. Never did I question if I was a priority to him. But when ultra-romantic Max popped up, it was so big, you didn’t know how you hadn’t read it in a book yet.

  “I know you were worried you were too all over the place when we first started out, but did you know I was scared too?”

  “Of what?”

  Of fucking shit up between us. Being too rigid and boring. Somehow accidently dimming your light and your nee
d for adventure,” he confessed, and I pulled away, my own hands reaching up to meet his face.

  “Baby.” I searched his eyes, and he shrugged.

  “I know it sounds stupid, but I worried.”

  “But you drive a motorcycle any chance you get,” I blurted out and felt his body shake with laughter.

  “That doesn’t mean I’m as adventurous as you.”

  “I always just thought of us as two different types of… adventure seekers.”

  “Come again?”

  “You know I would be scared shitless trying to drive a bike, but I can ride with you. Just like you would hate jumping out of a plane with me, but you’re behind me when we’ve gone ziplining.”

  “Jesus, babe,” he exhaled, and it looked like a heavy weight had been removed from his shoulders. “Leti, that’s why this took so long. I wanted you to be ready.”

  “Why what took so long? And ready for what?” I asked, and my mouth dropped to the floor when he stepped back and kneeled in front of me. “Shut up!” I cried, covering my mouth and jumping up and down. “Are you serious!”

  “This is where it all started,” he pointed out, and he became slightly blurry.

  “Oh my god!” I said too loudly, but he didn’t seem to care.

  Everyone around us seemed to stop and watch what was unfolding, but I didn’t see them. I saw the man of my dreams, the man I loved with every part of my being kneeling in front of me, a small black ring box in his hand.

  “You didn’t just bring me to life, Spark Plug.” His deep voice was steady, and the happy tears started to roll down my face. “You are my life, Leti Montenegro. Say you’ll be mine forever.”

  “I already am, baby.” Didn’t he know that?

  “That a yes?” His lips twitched, and I nodded my head furiously. “You going to marry me, Spark Plug?”

  “Yes!” I fell to the floor, kneeling in front of him, and hugged him. “Yes!” I said into his ear, breathing in the man who got me. Understood me in a way I never thought would happen. The man who showed me how much he loved me every day in a way that made it seem easy. Seamless.

  I couldn’t believe how life took twists and turns.

  But I had to say, I loved last-minute surprises.

  Especially when they involved Max Riley.

  The End.

  Ready to fall in love at University of the Desert!

  Check out Mayra Statham’s Kappa Sweets series!

  Start off with a peek of His Smarty Pants!

  Chapter One

  Milo Clark

  I KNOCKED ON the door and sighed.

  She was going to have a shit fit when she saw me, no doubt about that. But there was no other choice. The Smarty Pants who lived in the giant pale blue house was my only hope.

  “Coming!” someone called out, and despite being on the other side of the heavy door of a house filled with dozens of girls, I knew it was her. I had to bite back a smartass retort about how I probably could make her come. She hated me for a reason. I had, and I quote, ‘the maturity of a dumb twelve-year-old.’ But she always smirked when I said stupid shit, so she wasn’t above enjoying my humor.

  She just didn’t like me knowing it.

  “I didn’t expect you guys to deliver so quick—“ The words died on her tongue the moment her eyes met mine. Whatever warm enthusiasm she had for whoever she thought it could be melted away and froze up at the sight of me. “What do you want?” she bit off, slight disgust in her tone. Oh yeah. Cora Meadows was definitely not happy about seeing me.

  “Your help,” I said quickly. I knew from experience it was better to go to the quick with Cora.

  “I don’t think so.” She rolled her eyes, about to shut the door on my face, but I put my hand on the cool wood.

  “Cora, please.”

  “Seriously, I don’t have time for… shenanigans.” Shenanigans. Fuck, she was funny. “So—”

  “I’m serious. Look, you’re my only hope.”

  “Only hope? Okay, Princess Leia, calm your tits and spit it out.” Fuck me double time. Only Cora Meadows would Star Wars me. I hated how cute I thought she was. Standing before me was the one girl on campus I couldn’t seem to charm. Or re-charm, as the case might be.

  Petite with a great rack I wished I didn’t notice, Cora was gorgeous. Amazing, thick, dirty blonde hair that lightened in the summer and darkened in the winter. Eyes the color of the sweetest caramel. Jesus. I needed to get my head checked. Cora was the one girl who busted my chops. I didn’t need to be waxing poetics about her.

  We’d met freshman year, here at U of D, or University of the Desert, in Southern California. The girl hated me. Loathed, to be exact. Though, if you asked her, she would probably tell you I didn’t know what loathe meant. To her, I was just some dumb jock on Greek row. Something about me rubbed her the wrong way. Too bad all I could seem to think about was figuring out the right way to rub her.

  “Milo, did you come here for a reason or—”

  “I need your help.”

  “Oh, this is going to be good.” She opened the door wider and stepped out of the house, making the scent of her perfume waft toward me. It made me very aware of her and her feminine wiles. “Wait. Let me guess.” She placed a finger on her face, drawing my attention to her pretty lips, and I fought my body from reacting. Cora had a great set of lips. Naturally pink. Not light pink but a tint you would get after drinking fruit punch, almost red. “What sorority sister of mine do you wanna help me hook you up with? And if you say one of the new pledges, you’re seriously sick. They’re way too young for you.”

  “Sorority sister?” I shook my head, the disgust clear in my voice. “No. I don’t need you to hook me up with anyone.” I hadn’t been with anyone in months.

  “So, what the hell do you need help with?” She cocked her hip out, attitude clear in her stance, and I sighed. Like a Band-Aid, I reminded myself.

  “Greek mythology.”

  “Greek… Do I look like a tutor to you?”

  “Cor—“ I stopped and took a breath. Begging wasn’t going to get me anywhere. “I know I’m not your favorite person on campus, but—”

  “Pfft. It’s not like you like me all that much either.”

  “That’s not true,” I clipped, and her eyes widened for a split second before she erased it, turning her face to stone.

  “Whatever. Why me? Why can’t you just go to the library and request—”

  “I could get benched,” I admitted. My stomach twisted at the idea of not playing.

  I was the goalie for our school’s soccer team. We were a division one school, nothing to shrug your nose at, and as my senior year, this was my year. My year to get seen one last time and maybe, god, just maybe, get picked up by a scout from any team in the MLS, Major League Soccer. “If Coach sees I hired a tutor, it could set a whole thing in motion and fuck me over. All I need is someone to help me. We have the same class, and you’re rocking it in there,” I explained.

  “You just need help?” she asked suspiciously.

  “That’s all. What else would it be?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe some kind of frat prank.” She crossed her arms across her chest, and I felt a pang of guilt about our stupid, stupid past and my even stupider mistake.

  “I apologized about freshman year,” I said as sincerely as I could tell her. Maybe she did have a reason to hate me, but I had been a dumb kid. A dumb kid who had been ordered to kiss two girls at the same party, all to get in a frat. Pledge week had been a bitch, and that had been the last thing on the list. “I’ve apologized over and over about that.”

  “Whatever. Why didn’t you think about asking Gemma for help?” she asked, and the tone in her voice made me want to smile if it weren’t for the fact of who she was talking about. Cora almost sounded jealous. If she only knew.

  Gemma Livingston.

  A living, walking pain in the ass and jock bunny.

  She was also the bane of my existence and the major reason Cora thou
ght I was scum. Gemma had been the hot brunette I had kissed first at that party. She might have been eye candy, but in reality, she’d tasted of cigarettes and beer. The lip gloss on her lips had felt like a gross coat of Vaseline. That kiss had been the worst.

  “There is nothing going on with Gemma and me. There never was.”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes, but I could see it.

  The flicker of interest. It had been there that night too.

  We’d met over warm beer and a stale bowl of pretzels. I’d been trying to get the taste out of my mouth and off my lips when she’d walked in. Shy and hesitant, asking for a beer from the tap. She’d taken my breath away. We had spent the night talking and laughing. Then, when I’d gone in to kiss her, the pledge requirement far from my mind, her lips had been soft, her taste sweet. If I closed my eyes, even after all this time, I could still hear the soft moan she made when I’d gripped her silky strands in my hand before deepening the kiss.

  It’d been great.

  Perfect first kiss.

  Until it wasn’t.

  One of the upper classmen snapped a pic and then yelled out how I’d done my due diligence. She’d asked what they meant, and the upperclassmen informed her before I could explain. She’d looked wounded and confused for all of two point five seconds. She stood up, threw the little beer she had left in her cup all over me, and walked out.

  Rightfully so.

  She never let me explain. Not once. And I didn’t blame her. She had no idea how much that kiss had been more than a stupid order. She’d let me apologize, and that had been it. Though that hadn’t been the only times our paths had crossed. The campus was huge, but we were closely tied with our fraternity and sorority. Sigma O’s and Kappa Sweets were tight. We held events together. But that was for another day. I had to focus and get her to agree.

  “Please, Cor, I need help. I can’t go through other channels. If I do and Coach catches wind of it, that could be it for me. My starting position would be gone, and after my injury last year, I doubt any scouts would bother to see me. This is the last chance for me to go pro.”

  “Milo…”

 

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