by Aria Cole
Not her. Not Elle.
She gave me all of her. I don’t know why she trusted me. I hadn’t earned it, but I was devoted. She was the sweet oxygen that filled my chest and got me up in the morning.
I had to see her.
I turned, backtracking around the corner, thinking at the very least I could toss that train ticket she’d probably just bought from her hands, when I spied Tony pushing her into the car, his heavy palm on her shoulder as he handled her too forcefully for my liking.
“Get your fucking hands off her!” I roared as I took the remaining long strides to them, yanking his elbow behind his back in an awkward three-quarter twist. My other forearm encircled the bobble head that sat on top of his thick neck, and with my thumb pressed into the soft tube of his jugular, I threatened his air supply and pulled him away from the car.
“Get out, Elle.” I shot her a look that said now.
Luckily, she complied, and with her purse tucked meekly under her arm, she backed a few steps away until her back was flush against the rust red of the building, her body all but collapsing as she slid down the wall in fevered tremors.
Jesus, he’d hurt her.
“I’ll yank your fucking balls off and force-feed you them with a spoon if you hurt her.” I twisted my grip at his elbow, placing pressure on another tender point. The wince and grit of his jaw told me he felt it. “Don’t fuck with me, old man. You know I can do much worse.” I wrapped a palm around the base of his neck and slammed his forehead into the doorframe of his shitty old Lincoln.
“If I see you in my town again, you’ll be sinking to the bottom of that lake behind us,” I spit before shoving him into his car and slamming the door. His plump form started the engine with trembling hands and he was peeling out of the gravel before I could even turn to help Elle.
When I did, our eyes locked, and fat teardrops fell down her face. I rushed to her, gravel biting into my kneecaps as I landed on my knees in the dirt at her feet.
“My beautiful girl, are you okay? Did he hurt you?” My hands roamed her arms, her shoulders, checking for bruises or scrapes that would send me on the rampage to feed him his balls for breakfast.
Her head shook, tears running down her cheeks as she sat shaking.
“Let’s get back to the library.”
Elle’s head shook in reply, her hand reaching into her purse. “Syracuse,” she stammered, and I realized that was where she’d been headed. Running from me.
Dammit. I thrust a hand through my dark hair and realized I’d have to fess up, telling her everything if I were going to convince her to stay with me. This was all on me now. She deserved that.
Twenty-Five
Elle
My heart rattled to a halt in my chest when he’d ripped my train ticket and tossed it in the garbage can. He stalked back to me, eyes burning before he’d swooped me into his arms and carried me back to his library. Seeing Maxwell show up at just the right time, I’d wanted to break down in tears right then and thank him. Tell him I was sorry I ran out on him, tell him why I had a history of running when things got tough.
Maxwell rummaged in a drawer before he returned to me. “Drink this.” He shoved a double shot of tequila my way before taking a long slug from the bottle. He clamped his jaw tight, eyes glazing as they averted to the ceiling before he took another chug.
“I’m okay.” I swallowed, feeling the pain that’d caused my throat to ache with tears.
“Take it,” he insisted. “It’ll calm your nerves.” But apparently, it was his nerves that needed calming. His hands were nearly trembling.
“If you’re worried about Tony, he won’t be around again,” I offered.
“Not worried about that half-assed, wanna-be thug,” he grit, then took another swallow of his drink before slamming the bottle down on the counter and stepping away.
“First,” he turned, “you’ve got to tell me why you were leaving.”
I turned, my heart sinking, thinking I wasn’t going to get off the hook so quickly with that. “I’m used to running,” I offered lamely. “Bad people have haunted the shadows my entire life. We always had to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. But the way you’ve treated me ever since…” I trailed off, remembering the feel of his sweet lips tracing my skin, my hipbones, the dip at my navel before he crawled up the bed and sucked long strokes at my neck. I nearly sighed, my thighs twisting with pleasure. “After that, you treated me terribly,” I ended softly, lacking the courage to go on. It hurt. He’d hurt me; that was all he needed to know.
Maxwell’s dark eyes turned on me then, softening before he stepped across the kitchen and dropped to his knees on the polished wood floor. Nearly face to face with me, he was so tall, his hands clasped in mine, his thumbs grazing my wrists with gentle sweetness. “No, I’m so sorry. Christ, I didn’t even think about that side of it.” He glanced up and then away again. “It all just happened so fast with Tony and the money. I’m not used to having a woman in my life.”
“Wait. The money?” My brain was triggered by the memory of Tony mentioning my boyfriend paying up, but Maxwell hadn’t, had he? “Maxwell, you didn’t pay him, did you?” My hands went to his strong jawline. I cupped it, begging him to tell me he hadn’t wasted that money on my father, on me.
“I did,” he said evenly before his eyes darted away, his lips turning down in a frown.
“What did you do?” I shook my head, shocked he’d hand over that kind of cash to a stranger. Shocked that he had that kind of cash at all.
“Nothing I wouldn’t do again.” He stood and I trailed after him, unwilling to let him get away just yet. He rested his backside against the counter and crossed his arms. I placed both my palms on the counter on either side of his hips, caging him in as best as my small frame could.
His eyebrows shot up and his grin twisted up for a second, sending butterflies flitting throughout my stomach.
“Tell me.” I twisted my fingers in his own and squeezed.
“I paid him the two hundred thousand to leave. I’d do it again. He threatened you.”
“No, he wouldn’t have harmed me—”
“He ransacked your place! Stole your shit!”
“We don’t know that was him—”
“He was stuffing you in the backseat of his car when I found you an hour ago,” Maxwell bellowed, all but silencing me. I didn’t know what Tony was going to do, but it wasn’t good, I knew that. “I paid him the money, but then I wondered if maybe you sought me out. Knew of me.” His eyes pulled down to mine again. “Read the headlines.”
My gaze held his steadily, stupefied and wondering what on earth he was talking about. “I didn’t read anything. I just picked the train that left first. What headlines? What are you talking about?” He tried to pull his hands away, but I held them firmly in my own, showing him he couldn’t escape me.
“I don’t…” His eyes averted to the ceiling again. “I don’t leave the house because of what happened a few years ago…” His eyes caught mine and he paused.
“Well, that’s silly. You’ve left the house with me.”
He shook his head in slow, torturous swings. “First time in four years.” His eyes shuddered closed and I felt the pain pulling at his corded muscles.
“Well, what could possibly have happened four years ago?” I asked, shocked down to my bones about anything that could have stopped this bigger than life force of a man from stepping outside his cherished library.
“I sent my father to prison,” he said flatly, as if he was preparing to watch me run.
I scrunched my eyes, assessing the hard angle of his jaw and that violent slash of scar tissue that decorated his cheek.
“Did he do this to you?” I traced my fingertips across the pink scar. Maxwell’s eyes shuddered closed as he nodded once. I sucked in a sharp breath as I felt waves of pain radiating from his large form.
This man was broken, terrorized in a way I couldn’t fathom, and had lived to tell the tale. He was so pro
ud, so strong, smart, and sweet. And then suddenly it hit me, it all clicked into place. “That’s why you think you’ll hurt me, isn’t it?” I asked before my hands circled his neck and I stretched on my tiptoes to place a soft trail of reverent kisses across his skin.
“He was a brutal child abuser; he beat me and whipped me my entire childhood, until I was old enough to fight back.” He caught one of my palms and placed a soft kiss at my knuckles before leading me to the couch and curling me into his side.
“I started fighting back when I was sixteen. I was lifting weights. Working out became the only outlet I had and I did it constantly. After about six months, Dad tried to lay into me and I snapped,” he finished softly, his eyes heated with emotion. It hurt him to even share this story. He still carried shame. “I knocked him out, then left the house, never came back, that is, until four years ago. My mom passed from cancer, so I had to come back. That old bastard wouldn’t lift a finger to help her.” I could feel the hate coming off him in waves. “The last three months of her life I was with her every day. She helped me stock the library from her bed. It was like our last project together. But then she died, and just when I thought I was going to pack up and leave, he came back.” Maxwell seethed at the memory. “He was fighting me for everything she had.” His muscles twitched. “My mother left me an inheritance, all of it to me, expressly written in the will that he was to get none of it,” Maxwell uttered, lost in the memory. “The night they read the final judgment, that the will was incontestable and that he wouldn’t get a red cent,” he pushed one hand through his hair, “he caught me leaving the bar. I was drunk. The lawyers, her death, him; it’d all caught up with me. He tried to catch me off guard, make it look random. He was in a hood and gloves, tossed the knife as he ran, but I saw him. I’ll never forget that gleam in his eye.” The rough pad of his thumb treaded the jagged mark as if he’d done it a hundred times. A thousand.
“He did this to you over money?” I squeaked.
He nodded slowly before his grin turned up wryly at one corner in such a sexy way I felt arousal beat to life between my legs. “Pretty terrible, huh?”
“I can’t imagine anything worse…” I uttered, my eyes locked with his, feeling like I finally understood the pain he carried so close to his big heart. “I’m so sorry that happened, but Maxwell…” I trailed off. “Four years? What made you go outside after four years of staying up in here?”
“You,” he answered simply. “You did, sweetheart.” He pushed a hand through my hair and the pad of his thumb traced my lips before he placed a soft kiss across them. “You went running head first into trouble and I had to save you.” His smile lifted. “I’d do it again, but don’t make me.” He pecked me again.
“But you didn’t even know me. I was nobody to you!”
“Not true.” He laughed. “Not true at all, Elle. From the moment I saw you on my library steps, I felt something down deep in my stomach. Something pounding through my blood that told me I needed you. I want to die the day before you do, because I don’t want to live a single day on this earth without you on it.” His lips found mine and he kissed me in slow, languid kisses. His hands trailed up my torso, wrapping in the waves of my hair as my own palms traveled the hard angles of his hard body.
My man.
Twenty-Six
Maxwell
Three months later…
“Elle!” I bellowed up the stairs, my heart galloping too fast in my chest as I waited for her. I knew she was up there, and I’d drag her down over my shoulder if that was what it took to get her to me. “I’ll be right back.” I gestured to the gentleman at my side, leaving him alone in my library before taking the steps up to my and Elle’s apartment two at a time.
I reached the landing just as she turned the corner to come down.
“Elle.” My eyes trailed up her creamy lace-clad curves, from the slim silhouette gathered at her ankles to the full curve of her breasts under the beaded neckline.
She was beautiful, and she was mine.
The incessant throb of my cock pounded in my dark slacks before I pushed back the raging lust that simmered inside me whenever I was around her. Today was not the day. At least not yet anyway.
“Ready to be mine?” I took her hand in mine to escort her down the stairs. Her dad wasn’t here—she’d insisted she hadn’t wanted him present anyway—so I would walk her down the proverbial aisle, a book aisle in this case. I would be her everything. Her escort, her protector, her savior, her husband.
“I was yours the first day we met,” she purred and then placed a kiss on my nose when we reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Shall we start?” the man I’d chosen to unite us for eternity asked politely, his eyes glancing up to mine and back over to Elle’s.
I turned, her hand firmly locked with mine, thinking I’d never let it go come hell or high water. I was hers. “Ready to tie yourself to me forever?” I winked, more than eager to get on with the show and tie her to me officially.
“I already did.” Her heart-shaped face curved as one palm trailed down to the soft swell of her abdomen.
“Elle…?” My eyes darted from her chestnut gaze to her stomach and back again.
“You’re going to be a daddy, Maxwell.” She wound her hands around my neck and pushed up on her toes to plant a slow kiss on my lips, stealing my breath and taking my life with every heavy heartbeat. “I’ve been dying to tell you that.” She wiped at her brow as if she was relieved. I smiled, thinking this was exactly the reason I loved her so much. “And I can’t wait to tie myself to you,” she finished before placing a quick kiss on my chin. “You’re going to be a great daddy.” And if it was even possible, I fell in love with her a little more with every word.
My beauty.
My love.
My Elle.
Epilogue
Maxwell
I laughed at the belly giggle that erupted from Emma's lips as I tickled her sides in my lap. Her giggles were like a song on my ears, her chestnut ringlets as soft as silk, and the button of her nose my complete undoing.
Just like her momma. “Daddy, Daddy!” Emma Elizabeth Black squealed and wiggled in my heavy arms. “Tickle me again!” she cried and when I did as she asked, she laughed so hard tears leaked from the edges of her dark lashes. I'd just finished reading her Winnie the Pooh again, the same beat-up edition I'd held as a kid and the one she made me read to her every Sunday afternoon. It was her favorite story and I had a feeling she was going to grow up to be just like me.
My little girl. She'd just turned three years old at the beginning of the summer, and we'd bought her the largest stuffed pony we could find, until I could buy her the real thing, she'd said with a charming little smile. She had me wrapped around her tiny little fingers and I loved every single second of it. The truth was Elle had saved me, and fatherhood had been the cherry on the sundae.
“Almost dinner time,” the siren song to my heart called before soft rosy lips dusted across my cheekbone. I inhaled the soft scent of strawberries and my muscles went lax. Elle.
“How's Momma doin’?” My eyes crinkled in the bright sunlight as I peered up at her from my perch on the rocking chair.
“Good. Tired. This one has settled on my bladder, I think.” Elle rubbed at her massively protruding belly and it made my heart do an awkward flip-flop in my chest.
“And how's my boy?” I smiled deeply as I ghosted a palm across her abdomen, cupping my son in my hands.
“He's healthy as a horse.” Elle chuckled and traced her fingers into my longish hair, scratching her fingernails across my scalp and causing a sigh to fall from my lips in contentment.
This, right here, was everything I never knew I wanted in life. Everything I never knew was mine to have.
My family.
“How about we help Momma set the table, Em?” I heaved the squirming toddler in my arms and stood on the small steps that overlooked downtown.
We were still living above the library,
but not for long. I'd just purchased a plot of land outside of town to move our now rapidly growing family to. I was knee-deep in construction plans and planning to add a small stable on the property, home to the pony I promised to get Em for her next birthday. She was a spoiled little girl and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I'd be sad to leave the place I called home all these last years, but in truth, this man wasn't me anymore. I had so much more to live for now, and while we would still keep the apartment above the library and Elle would help out as my assistant when she could, I couldn't wait to move us into our forever home. My forever family. Without them, I didn't know what kind of man I'd be, but they made me a better one, each and every day.
“Mmm...the only thing more beautiful than your body when I met you, is your body with my baby inside you,” I hummed, dancing my hands across the swell of my wife's overly pregnant belly later that night. I mouthed the words to “Winnie the Pooh” softly against the creamy skin of her stomach, singing to my unborn son. Maxwell David Black, Max for short. I was so anxious for him to make his appearance in the world. A soft sigh escaped Elle's lips as she adjusted in our bed. “Tired, Mama?” I ended my song, a song I sang every night to the little guy, just like I'd done for his sister.
“Tired but happy.” She pushed her fingers through the locks of hair at my forehead.
“I think I have something that will make you happier.” I pulled the delicate strand from behind my back and draped the brilliant diamonds and polished ivory pearls across her beautiful belly. Long overdue, but I’d taken my time searching for the exact replica of the necklace her mother had given her and her father had pawned all those years ago.
“Maxwell.” Tears welled in her eyes as her fingers threaded through the stones. “How did you find it?” One hand went to her mouth and I knew then the years of searching had been worth it. Anything to put that look on her face was worth it.
