CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Max arrived on Allie’s doorstep with a bouquet of flowers and a tiramisu from the local baker, hoping she’d still let him in after the way they’d left things today. He’d replayed the earlier exchange a million times in his head, and it looked worse to him with every review. Hindsight helped him recognize the subtle change in her tone and slight rigidity of her posture, in ways he hadn’t been able to comprehend in the moment. He’d known he’d come off as abrupt but hadn’t fully understood that he’d hurt her until she was gone.
Now he could only hope the flowers and dessert were enough to get him through the door. From there, he had a lot of explaining to do. He knocked lightly, a few minutes early. If she hadn’t changed her mind about making him dinner, maybe she’d let him help with the work.
The door swept open, and Allie stared out, a surprised expression on her face and Max Jr. on one hip. “You came,” she said, hazel eyes widening. “I was sure you’d be working all night.” She pressed her lips into a pale, thin line, and he realized she was being polite.
She’d assumed he’d blow her off again. Choose work over her, the way he had when they were married.
He stepped inside as she made room for him to pass. “I’ve been looking forward to this,” he said. “Nothing was going to keep me away. Here, I’ll trade you,” he suggested. “Flowers and dessert for one pint-size little man?”
“Is that tiramisu?” she asked, a hint of delight dancing in her eyes.
“Yes, ma’am.” Max smiled, making the trade for his sweet baby boy. He took in Allie’s appearance as they made the swap. The familiar tilt of her head and set of her jaw. That soft green sweater and those perfectly fitting black pants. Allie had always been in great shape when they were married, a result of long morning jogs. She was thin and willowy, but she was different now, stronger-looking, with obvious definition in her limbs and shoulders. And try as he might to be a gentleman, he couldn’t help imagining what those changes would look like under the clothes.
“Tiramisu is my favorite,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, and it’s the least I can do after you offered to make dinner again.” Max buried his nose in Max Jr.’s fluffy curls and inhaled deeply, savoring the perfect scent of his son. “Man, I’ve missed you, little guy.”
“I can’t believe you remembered,” Allie said, still apparently baffled by the simple dessert. “The bouquet is lovely, too. I should put it in water.”
The shock in her tone was a kick to Max’s gut. She really hadn’t thought he’d remember the things she loved? Or show up tonight? How far wrong had he gone in their marriage that she didn’t think he knew her at least this well? Far enough that she divorced me, he reminded himself. So, way too far.
“How are you?” she asked, heading for the kitchen.
“I’ve been better,” he admitted. “A lot of things went wrong today. I’m hoping to see improvement moving forward.”
Allie set the tiramisu in her refrigerator, then turned a curious look on Max. “You stopped a bomb. Saved dozens of people. I’d say at least a few things went right.”
He followed her to the kitchen, bouncing his son gently in his arms and debating how to begin all the things he wanted to say.
“I made a pot roast,” she said, retrieving a vase from the cabinet below the sink, then filling it with water for the bouquet. “Carrots and potatoes with rosemary as a side. And I have French bread.”
“Everything smells amazing.” Max set his son in his high chair, then kissed his forehead and turned to Allie, rubbing eager palms together. “How can I help?”
She smiled, dutifully arranging the flowers in the vase. “Set the table?”
Max put out the plates and silverware while Allie pulled the bread from the oven and set it on a rack to cool. “I was surprised to see you today,” he said. “I’m sorry I pulled back like I did.”
Allie glanced over her shoulder at him, her smile strikingly more distant than it had seemed before. “You were working. I was out of line.”
“No. You weren’t. I was, and I want to explain.” He shook the tension from his hands, struggling for words. Talking about his feelings wasn’t easy. His instincts for the preservation of his pride demanded he change the subject. But Max had chosen his comfort over Allie’s needs too many times, and it was his turn to start making real sacrifices for her. Pride be damned.
She turned away to remove the pan of roast and vegetables from her oven, then set it on the stovetop. “I saw what was happening on the news, and I panicked,” she said, apology thick in her tone. “You were in a building with a possible bomb, and I couldn’t just sit here, watching the screen for updates like everyone else. I’m not everyone else.”
“You’re not,” he said softly. “I’m glad you were there. I mean that, and I need you to hear me.”
Her shoulders slumped, and she deflated, resting her backside against the counter. She stripped off her oven mitts and stared. “I’ve never been that scared in my life.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it to his marrow.
“I wasn’t trying to intrude. I acted without thinking. It was an emotional response to my fear.” She lifted and dropped her palms in defeat.
Max took a step closer. “When I was trying to shut that bomb down, all I could think of was you and Max Jr. I was terrified I’d never see you again, and I hadn’t made things right between us. Then I walked outside, you were there, and I thought, This is my chance. I can do the right thing.”
She crossed her arms and chewed her lip.
He recognized the defensive posture and pressed on before she shut him down. “I pulled away from you today because I realized that if the bomber sent that text, then he knew I was there, and that I’d stopped his attack. Whether he was in the crowd, or watching from another location, I couldn’t be sure, but if he had eyes on the scene and saw you with me…” Max trailed off, unable to voice the unthinkable truth.
Allie’s expression softened, and her arms fell loose at her sides. “He might’ve seen you holding me.”
“I didn’t want him to see you anywhere near me.” Max groaned. He leaned a hip against the counter and scrubbed a heavy hand over his face, the scruff of his beard grinding against his palm. “The realization that my feelings for you could put you in danger—” he swallowed hard, forcing the words through a tightening jaw “—was a hell of a lot scarier than any bomb.”
A fresh blush washed over Allie’s cheeks, and she turned away to slice the bread. “You were protecting me,” she said shyly. “I’m not sure how I misinterpreted that. I guess it’s what you do.”
Max moved into the space behind her and set a tentative hand on her lower back. “I also have a bad habit of hurting you, and I wish I could take that pain back. I gave you the impression my work was more important than my family, and it’s just not true.”
Allie stilled her knife against the bread. Her body tensed.
“Dada!” Max Jr. called. He smacked his high-chair tray and squealed. “Dada! Dada!” He released a long round of raspberries with his tongue, and Allie laughed.
Max moved away from Allie. “I’ve got this.” He opened the cupboard and collected one of Max Jr.’s plastic plates, then a baby spoon and fork from the rack. “I think he’s trying to tell us how delicious this meal smells, and how much he’d like some. Right now.”
Allie smoothly moved a few baby carrots and tiny potatoes onto the little plate beside some bits of roast.
Max sliced the food for their son, then followed Allie to the table. She set the pan with her roast and vegetables on a wooden trivet, then took a seat beside Max Jr.’s high chair.
“We still make a good team,” Max said, enjoying the familiar ease of working at her side.
“Teamwork was never one of our problems,” she said, serving roast and potatoes to Max, the
n portioning some for herself. “You and I were always good together.”
Something in her tone sent heat through Max’s core, and a surge of unbidden, deeply intimate memories of their early days together flooded into mind.
“Do you really think I could be in danger?” she asked.
The thought doused Max in ice.
Allie’s gaze flickered to Max Jr., then back. “Could we be in danger?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, tension returning to his muscles, gripping his back, neck and shoulders painfully. “I can’t be sure what the bomber saw today.”
“Maybe you should go back to your hotel tonight,” she said softly. “It’s not that I don’t want you to be here. I just don’t want to take the risk. What if he follows you?”
Max turned his attention to the meal before him, hoping to hide his horror at the possibility. He’d been careful, but what if he’d missed something? “I understand why you’d say that, and it makes sense on the surface,” he said.
Eventually he wiped his mouth on his napkin and refocused on the gorgeous blonde across from him.
“But,” she guessed.
His lips twitched, and he fought a small smirk. She knew him so well. Unfortunately, he’d taken a risk by coming for dinner, even if the extremely overdue apology he owed Allie seemed paramount at the time. Now that he was there, it was too late to turn back. “I’m already here,” he said. “I can’t be sure O’Lear doesn’t know that. Leaving you alone could be the opposite of helpful, if he knows this is where I came after work.”
Her shoulders sagged before squaring once more. Her expression was unreadable.
“I won’t let anything happen to you or Max Jr.,” he vowed.
“I know.” Allie pushed the food around her plate, clearly thinking, but not saying a word. Max could only imagine where her thoughts had gone. His job might’ve put her in danger. Exactly what he’d tried to avoid throughout their relationship.
“You were a real help, going to the station and working with the sketch artist,” he said, changing the subject. “I don’t think I thanked you properly for that. Knowing you saw him watch the Burger Mania blast goes a long way toward building our profile. Combined with the text he sent today, I can confidently say this guy likes to watch the explosions. He enjoys the destruction and seeing the chaos unfold. We think he takes a day between bombings to bask in the power rush.”
Allie paled. Her chewing slowed, and she turned her eyes on their baby. “Do you think there’s any chance he recognized me? From that night in the car? Then again at the scene today?”
The food turned to sawdust on Max’s tongue as the remote possibility took hold. How could he stay another minute with Allie if being there could put a target on her? And how could he leave if Fritz O’Lear already had her in his sights?
How could Max know if either was true?
* * *
ALLIE CLEANED THE kitchen after dinner, watching and listening as Max played with and cared for their son. The moments were bittersweet and nostalgic, and she didn’t want Max to go. She missed hearing his voice and laughter. She missed his comforting and protective presence. She missed his touch.
She scrubbed the table a little harder, attempting to distract herself from the growing sense of loss, knowing he had to leave again soon. She’d spent the months after her divorce the same way, trying to distract herself from the pain. She’d joined a gym, thrown herself into her work and concentrated on being the very best mother she could. But one look at Max, lying on his back on her living-room floor, with their son held above him like a tiny superhero, was ripping apart any progress she’d made.
She put on a kettle for tea and arranged a pair of mugs beside the stove. Max used to tease her for her preference for tea over coffee, but he’d learned to appreciate the drink. Like she’d learned to appreciate draft beer. He’d begun to go on morning runs with her. She’d started joining him in the weight room at his gym. She and Max had always been a perfect team of give-and-take. Teacher and student. Partners in every sense of the word. Until the TCD called, and his real team took him away for days, even weeks on end. Usually at the drop of a dime. Always to rescue or protect another family.
Until today, all those missions had been abstract. They’d felt false. Distant. Not worth letting him go at every turn. But being there today with the crowds and the team had changed that. She’d felt the suffocating tension and fear in the air, and she’d seen the faces of all those residents as they were moved to a safe location. The helpless pets loaded into crates. The elderly. The children. It had nearly torn her heart in two.
And knowing Max had saved all those people by putting their lives and safety ahead of his own had given Allie a brand-new perspective on absolutely everything. Including what she needed from Max, if he was willing to consider it.
She dried her hands on a towel and moved to the island that separated her kitchen and living room, greedy for a closer look at the two most amazing men in her life.
They were seated now, a book between them. Max Jr. yawned and rubbed his eyes.
“Aw. Hey, now,” Max said, steadying their wobbly son. “Looks like someone’s getting tired.” He set the book aside, then cuddled Max Jr. to his chest before rising gracefully to his feet.
Allie admired the long, lean muscles of Max’s body, and the fluidity with which he moved. It was so easy to forget a prosthetic limb replaced his lower left leg and foot. He’d nearly died before they met. It was unbelievable how close she’d come to never meeting him. If everything that happened after that blast hadn’t happened exactly as it did, Allie’s life would have been completely different, as well. But she chose to believe that fate had saved him for her, because from the moment they’d met, Max had been her everything. He was the reason she believed in soul mates.
“I think I might’ve worn him out,” Max said, cradling Max Jr. in his arms. “Do you mind if I do the routine tonight? Is it still a diaper, a song and a kiss?”
Her heart swelled. Max remembered that, too? She’d never thought he’d paid much attention to her bedtime routine with the baby. “Yeah,” she said. “It hasn’t changed.” It was too bad so many other things had.
Max smiled. “Then I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Allie tiptoed to the baby monitor and powered it on, listening as Max spoke softly to their son. He whispered a story as he changed his diaper. Then he began to sing.
Max Jr. cooed and gurgled, fighting sleep without crying, a definite improvement over the last few miserable nights of teething.
She drifted back to the kitchen and turned off the kettle, no longer interested in tea. Then she slipped into the bathroom to check her hair and face in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wild. Pretty much what she’d expected. She took a moment to settle her thoughts, then headed back into the hallway to wait for her ex-husband.
He’d told her he was leaving tonight, but she had something she needed to do before she let him go.
Max crept from the nursery several minutes later and pulled the door shut behind him. He narrowed his eyes when he saw her, though she doubted he hadn’t known she was there. He’d always seemed to know where she was. How she was feeling. And what was on her mind. “Can we talk before I go?”
Allie stepped forward, wetting her lips and pushing away from the wall. “We don’t have to talk,” she said. “I know your time is limited, and I don’t want to keep you, if you’re sure that leaving is for the best.”
Max stilled, his brows coming together in confusion. “What?”
“I understand how much you’re needed on this case,” she said, feeling the confession begin to flow. “I realize how selfish I was before. I couldn’t see it then, but I do now. And I’m sorry.”
Max moved closer, his eyes locked with hers. “I’m the one who owes you an apology. You and Max Jr. have always been
my priority, but I didn’t act like it.”
Allie’s attempts to keep herself from falling apart ended with his words. She closed the remaining gap between them and rose onto her toes to kiss him.
Max tensed, momentarily, as her lips grazed his, then quickly came to life under her touch. His arms curled around her back as she sank against him. His mouth met hers, press for press, and she moaned as he deepened the kiss.
Heat licked over her neck and chest, then pooled low in her core. She stepped back, fuzzy-headed and infinitely lighter, lips full from the urgency of their kiss.
Max looked equally dazed, a small smile on his slack, handsome face.
“Sorry. You said you wanted to talk?” she asked, trailing her fingertips down the hard planes of his chest. “I interrupted.”
He rubbed a palm over his face, then pierced her with a pointed stare. “I wanted to tell you I was scared today,” he said. “I had flashbacks, and the PTSD hit so hard I didn’t think I could get past it. Somehow, I pushed through. Then I found that bomb, and I had clarity about what’s important and how badly I screwed up. I knew what I’d done wrong. I understood why you left me. And I know I need to say so.”
Allie let her hands fall away, shocked and utterly unnerved at the unexpected change of subject and sudden tension between them.
Max caught her hands and pressed them against his heart, covering her fingers with his. “I thought that keeping you separate from my job would keep you safe, but not letting you in was a mistake. You deserved answers to your questions, then and now. You asked me how I was feeling when I got here, and I skipped around it. The truth is that I was nervous to see you. I was terrified that I’d ruined things for good when I pulled away without explanation this afternoon. I was hopeful that I didn’t, and I’m still finding my way through the residual panic of the bomb. The one I disarmed today, and the one that nearly killed me all those years ago. I never talk about my feelings, because I don’t like to, and I don’t talk about losing my leg because it’s hard to manage the memories. I don’t want you to think of me as weak. Because I can’t protect you if I’m weak.”
Harlequin Intrigue January 2021 - Box Set 1 of 2 Page 11
