Annie, Get Your Guy & Messing Around with Max

by Lori Foster

  He turned around so quickly he almost fell off his crutches. Dan hurried to open the office door for him. “I’d welcome you to the family,” Dan said, restraining Guy with a hand on his arm, “but I’ve always thought of you as a son.”

  Guy softened in the midst of his turmoil. “Thanks, Dan.”

  A shaky smile in place, Dan said, “Go convince my daughter. And Guy, I’d lose that evil look in your eyes first.”

  ANNIE WAS JUST handing Perry the book on bird-watching that he’d ordered from her shop when the office door flew open and bounced against the wall. Startled, she jerked around to see Guy filling the doorway. Heaving.

  He hadn’t shaved yet.

  The stubble on his chin was now almost as long as the hair on his head. Combined with his dark eyes and the grim set to his mouth, he looked enraged.

  Gorgeous and sexy, but enraged.

  “Guy.” She turned to stare at him. “What in the world are you doing up and about?”

  Even as Annie said it, she thanked her lucky stars that she’d thought to wear sunglasses. The last thing she wanted was for Guy to see that she’d been crying. She knew he’d feel responsible and start more of his brotherly nonsense. At the moment, she didn’t think she could take it.

  Perry took his book from her numb hand and backed up three steps until he was behind his desk.

  Guy stared at Perry as he growled, “You ran out on me this morning.”

  Annie forced a shrug, but her heart was in her throat, choking her. How dare he force her to relive this now. “Melissa was there.”

  “I didn’t want Melissa there.” He glanced at her briefly, and that one quick look carried the impact of a heated embrace. “I wanted you there.”

  “Really?” But she wouldn’t get suckered in again. He probably meant as a little sister. He probably wanted her there so he could lecture her some more on propriety and explain to her that what had happened couldn’t ever happen again.

  She made a face and looked at him over the rim of her sunglasses. “Why?”

  “I had…questions, for you.”

  He was still staring at Perry and that infuriated her. She stepped into his line of vision. “Stop trying to intimidate my friend.”

  Oozing menace, Guy asked, “Is Perry a friend?”

  Perry edged out from behind his desk and held up the book. With more bravery than she’d ever given him credit for, he frowned and said, “She brought me this. That’s all. Annie told me weeks ago that she didn’t want to be more than friends, and I’ve respected that decision.”

  Just that quickly, Guy deflated. “Weeks ago?”

  “Yes. And since it’s obvious the two of you have things to discuss, I think I’ll give you some privacy.”

  Annie didn’t try to change his mind, and Guy said only, “Close the door on your way out, Perry.”

  Giving Guy a wide berth, Perry made a hasty and not too dignified exit.

  Once they were alone, Annie asked, “So what questions did you have for me?”

  “Do you think I’m a pig?”

  “What?” That wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting.

  Guy shrugged, then limped toward her and put his crutches against the desk. “I did fall asleep,” he explained while gently lifting her sunglasses away. He looked at her red-rimmed eyes and sighed. “You’ve been crying. Why?”

  Annie folded her arms across her middle and fought the new rush of tears. “I don’t think you’re a pig. I told you, the books say that a lot of men fall asleep—”

  “I’m not a lot of men,” Guy interrupted to say.

  “And if I hadn’t just been run over, there’s no way in hell I would have left you like that.”

  She searched his face. His eyes were darker than usual, hot. “You wouldn’t have?”

  “No.” Very, very gently, he kissed the bridge of her nose. “So why were you crying?”

  No longer so certain of herself, Annie looked down at her feet and lied, “I just felt foolish, that’s all.”

  There was a heavy moment of silence, then: “Making love to me makes you feel foolish?”

  Her face heated. “No, I didn’t mean that.”

  Guy cupped her cheeks. “I love you, Annie.”

  Smiling wistfully, she met his gaze. “I know. I love you, too.”

  Guy paused, then shook his head. “No, I mean I love you, and I love making love with you, and I want to continue making love to you, only after I’m able to get around without the crutches.”

  Her pulse started racing. She wasn’t a coward, but she was terrified of believing him, of having her heart ripped out again. “Why the sudden change?”

  “It’s not sudden.”

  Annie licked her lips. “Right…right afterward, you told me it was a mistake, that it shouldn’t happen again.”

  His thumbs smoothed the corners of her mouth before he bent and kissed her. Against her lips, he said, “Have you ever seen Daniel looking for his glasses, and they’re right there on top of his head? Or in his pocket?”

  “Yes. So?”

  “They’re so familiar to him, so much a part of him, that he overlooks their presence sometimes. That’s what I did with you.”

  “I’ve never sat on top of your head.”

  “No, but you’ve been curled up in my heart for a long, long time. So long that I’ve just gotten used to you being there. I like having you there. Losing you would leave me with an empty heart.”

  The tears trickled down without her consent. “Then why did you keep pushing me away?”

  Guy closed his eyes and rested his forehead on hers. “Please don’t cry. I’d rather be run over again than see you cry.”

  She sniffed, and managed to get her tears slightly under control.

  “Annie, I was so afraid of changing things, of messing up, of maybe losing you and your family.”

  “You can’t lose family, Guy, unless you walk away.”

  He smiled. “I know that now.” He kissed her again, this time with more intensity. “So what do you say, sweetheart? Will you put me out of my misery?”

  Annie gulped down a laugh. It felt like happiness exploded inside her, making even her fingertips tingle. Shyly, she circled her arms around him and rested his palms on her hard backside. “Do…do we really have to wait until the crutches are gone?”

  Guy stared at her, them slowly broke out in an enormous smile. “I’d like to take care of you next time.”

  “I didn’t mind.” Annie nuzzled against his chest. “Even getting rid of the condom was educational.”

  He groaned. “Damn, I hadn’t even thought of that.”

  “Will you marry me, Guy?”

  Laughing out loud, he asked, “Will you ever let me be the aggressor?”

  Annie cuddled herself up to him, carefully hugging him close and laying her cheek against his hard chest. “That sounds like chapter four in my newest book. We’ll need some ties, only you never wear any, so I don’t know—”

  Guy tipped up her chin and kissed her. “Yes, I’ll marry you,” he whispered against her lips, and in his mind, he made a mental note to be wearing a tie the next time he saw her.

  Messing Around With Max

  “Why chase me?” Max asked

  Maddie took another step closer to him. “Because you’re not just any man, Max. You’re a man of experience, a man with an awesome reputation. I’ve been good all my life and all it got me was a guy who preferred kinky feathers to me!”

  “I hate to break it to you, but feathers aren’t really all that kinky.”

  “You didn’t see where she was tickling him!”

  Max coughed. “So, you want to use me to notch your bedpost?”

  She bobbed her head, her look endearingly sincere.

  Max was offended. “All because your idiot fiancé fooled around on you?”

  “It was so humiliating, I wish I’d just left him tied there forever.”

  Her grumbling tone made Max smile. “What did you do?”


  She cleared her throat. “I went out to dinner. And a movie,” she added with a wince.

  To Barbara O’Neill, an awesome online comrade.

  Thank you for always sharing your thoughts on my books, especially the wonderful Amazon reviews!

  I appreciate it more than I can say.

  Messing Around With Max

  Lori Foster

  1

  RAIN AND HAIL hitting the door was one thing. A woman was another.

  She ran into it at full speed, and Max stared, seeing long blond hair stick wetly to the glass panel, a small nose smooshed up hard, red and looking miserably cold. The rain came down in a curtain, muffling her grunt but not obliterating it entirely.

  Cleo took an instant dislike to the intruder.

  Hurrying around the counter of his sister’s bookstore, Max opened the door. The small feminine bundle tumbled limply inside. At first Max thought she’d been shot or bludgeoned on the back of the head. In a fury he stepped over her and peered through the downpour, looking for another body, for any type of threat. There wasn’t anyone there. Just the miserable rain.

  Cleo continued to complain and snarl and as Max knelt down by the felled body, which now moaned loudly, he said, “Pipe down, you mean-tempered bitch.”

  The woman on the floor gasped, rolled over onto her back, and started to open her eyes. She moaned again instead.

  “I’m wounded,” she snarled, every bit as ferocious as Cleo. “I could certainly do without your abuse!”

  “I wasn’t…” Max stopped when she got one eye peeped open. It was a startling, dark blue eye, fringed by dark brown lashes. It was just the one eye, not even both, but he felt the impact of her gaze like a kick.

  Cleo snuffled closer, poking her wet nose against the woman’s face while emitting a low growl.

  “Where are you wounded,” Max asked, still not sure why she’d thrown herself against the door, or why she was still on the floor.

  “All over.” That one eye regarded him steadily. “Even my teeth are rattled, so the least you can do is not insult me while I’m still down.”

  Max wondered if that meant he could insult her when she got up. If she got up. She didn’t seem to be in any rush to do so.

  “Cleo,” he explained, more quietly this time, “is my dog. And she is mean-tempered, but not really ferocious. She won’t hurt you.”

  “I’m not afraid of dogs.” Even in her less than auspicious position, she managed to appear affronted by the very idea, then she turned her disgruntled one-eyed frown on Cleo, who whimpered in surprise. “I just don’t want snout tracks on my cheek.”

  Max hid a grin. “C’mere, Cleo. Leave the lady alone.” Cleo obeyed—a first as far as Max could recall. She came immediately to his side, but continued to grumble out of one side of her mouth, making her doggy lips vibrate, while keeping her watchful attention on the downed female.

  A puddle had formed around the woman and since she continued to recline there on the tile floor, apparently at her leisure, Max looked for injuries. He found instead a rather attractive if petite bosom covered in a white T-shirt that read I Give Good Peach.

  His brows rose. What the hell did that mean?

  The shirt, now soaked through, was practically transparent and put on display a lacy pink bra beneath. Not that he was looking. Nope. He’d made a deal with Cleo, and he intended to keep to his word. He stroked his fingers through Cleo’s ruff, just to reassure her.

  The damn dog looked beyond dubious.

  Maybe she knew him better than he knew himself.

  “Are you okay?” Max asked the woman, in lieu of what he was really thinking, which had to do generally with her wet shirt and specifically with what it was molded to. He would distract himself. But it’d be easier if she’d just get up.

  With what appeared to be a lot of undue effort, she got both eyes opened and stared at him. “I’m seeing two of you,” she muttered in surprise, “and surely that’s a fantasy, not reality.”

  “A fantasy, huh?” Maybe she was delirious. Maybe she was drunk.

  Maybe she was fodder for his next advice column. No sooner than he thought it, Max discarded the idea. It was just a tad too far-fetched to be believed. Even for his eclectic audience, who so far seemed to believe anything he told them.

  One small hand lifted to flap in his face, the gesture making Cleo positively livid. The female human ignored the female dog.

  “Well, you know what you look like, I assume. Two of you would be…never mind.” As if just realizing what she’d said, she cleared her throat.

  “Yes, I think I’m okay.”

  Max had never met a woman like her, and that was saying something since he’d known a lot of women. He was so knowledgeable on the subject of females, in fact, that his column was a rousing success—written anonymously, of course. Even his family had no idea that he wrote it.

  They all thought he was jobless.

  This woman was most definitely different. She was flirting, then withdrawing—all while stretched out in sodden disarray on the tile floor. “You’re sure?”

  “My pride is permanently damaged,” she admitted, “but beyond that I believe I’ll live.” She pushed herself into a sitting position, long legs stretched out before her. Cleo again tried to sniff her, but when the woman turned that blue-eyed stare on her, Cleo whimpered, backed away, and from a safe distance, started snarling again.

  Max could understand that. Her eyes were incredible. Not the color, the shape or the size. But the intensity.

  “Where’s Annie?” the woman asked, looking around the bookstore with an air of familiarity.

  “You know my sister?”

  “I’ve bought tons of books here,” she explained, “to use in my work. Annie and I’ve gotten to know each other pretty well over the past year. Now we’re friends.” Then she asked, “Why was the door latched?”

  Cleo, suddenly acting brave, inched one paw closer and the woman absently petted her. Outraged, Cleo yapped and howled, and the woman ignored her bluster while continuing to stroke the dog’s too-small head.

  Amazed, Max could do no more than stare. No one other than he had ever ignored Cleo’s hostile swagger to give her affection. Max looked the woman over again, this time with a different type of interest. His heart beat just a little too fast.

  He was on a bride hunt, and since his bride absolutely had to get along with his dog—he was marrying for the dog, after all, to give Cleo a stable home and the love and acceptance she’d never had—he couldn’t help taking note of the somewhat tenuous friendship forming right before his eyes. It amazed him.

  It warmed his cynical heart.

  In a way, it even made him horny. But then, the rain had made him horny, too. Hell, he’d been so long without, a smack in the head would have turned him on. The only action he’d seen lately had been in the damn newspaper column, and that sure as hell wasn’t enough to appease a man of his appetites.

  The woman snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Where’d you go, big guy?”

  Max laughed. “Sorry. My mind wandered.”

  “I could see that.” She looked him over slowly, brazenly, then asked, “Why are you in here with the door latched?”

  Max remembered that his sister had the habit of leaving the door cocked open, something both he and Daniel had grumbled about endlessly, which was probably why Annie continued to do it. She lived to irritate her brothers.

  “Annie isn’t here, and the storm kept whistling through the door, so I closed it. I hadn’t figured on many people shopping today anyway. And of course, I hadn’t counted on a woman throwing herself against it.” More softly, because she had that effect on him, he said, “That must have hurt.”

  She sluiced water off her arms, and wrung out her hair. “I nearly knocked myself silly, but I’ll survive.”

  Cleo, still looking ferocious so no one would realize her real intent, nudged the female’s hand for another pet. Max nearly gawked. “What are you doing out in th
is storm?”

  “I needed a book. I was running to keep from getting soaked, but obviously I hadn’t planned on hitting a closed door.” Suddenly she grinned, and it made her face go crooked, made her eyes squinch up. She looked adorable, even with her smeared makeup and rain dripping from the end of her red nose.

  And she was still petting his dog.

  And Cleo was still allowing it.

  Max settled himself more comfortably on the floor, where it appeared their conversation would take place. The woman showed no signs of rising any time soon.

  Doing his best to ignore her clinging T-shirt and the equally enticing long legs displayed by her tight rain-soaked jeans, Max asked, “Do you need a doctor?”

  “Oh, no. Really, I’m fine.” She continued to grin, then added, “I’m Maddie Montgomery.” To Cleo’s dismay, she stuck out a slim wet hand, now slightly coated with dog hair.

  Max took it, felt how cold her fingers were and held on. “Max Sawyers. You’re freezing.”

  “And you’re Annie’s most disreputable brother.”

  “Her brother, yes, the rest is debatable.” Especially lately, Max added to himself. His life as a monk was not an acceptable one.

  Maddie pulled her hand away and struggled to her feet. “You know, I’ve heard tales about you that could curl a woman’s hair. You look different from how I’d imagined.”

  She’d imagined him? Max walked toward the back room where he could find a towel, deliberately removing himself from temptation. Sexual excitement, the thrill of the chase, the discovery, had already begun a heady beat in his heart. After so many years of indulging his basic nature, his actions were often instinctual. He’d find himself seducing a woman without even realizing it, as if he went on automatic pilot or something.

  A woman commenting on his reputation just naturally left herself open to a firsthand display of that reputation. Only now he needed a bride, not merely a temporary bedmate. Which meant he had to move slower than he preferred.