The Hero and the Fat Girl (New Hampshire Bears #3)

by Mary Smith

  “I understand. I hope…” he trails off with a deeply saddened expression.

  “What? What is it?”

  “I hope you know you can trust me. I’m a great listener. I would never tell anyone.”

  Deep down, I know he’s telling the truth. Remington isn’t a bad guy. I wouldn’t be here if I thought he was, but telling him my past is something I can’t handle right now. Just knowing Rickie has a private investigator has put me on edge enough.

  “Someday,” is the only response I can give him. Well, I could say a lot more, but I refuse to.

  Caryn’s eyes are wide. I just spilled out everything that has happened since our last session. Jackson. My breakdown. Remington’s lie. Rickie. The private investigator. All of it. I’m surprisingly calm as I tell her my decision to stay with Remington, even though he’d lied.

  “Maxima, of all my clients, you would have been the last one I thought would stay. He lied—because he wants to date you. It’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard a lot of things, too.”

  “For some reason, and I can’t explain it, I feel safe with him.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “I can’t love him.” I shake my head. “He will leave me if I ever tell him about my past. No matter what he says, he won’t want my baggage. It’ll be too much for him and he needs to focus on his daughter.”

  “But you do love him,” she matter-of-factly states. “You may not want to admit it right now, but you do.”

  I stand and pace the room. “Caryn, I’ve never doubted anything you’ve ever said or made me do, but this time you’re wrong.”

  As I continue my walk around the room, I truly analyze my emotions and feelings. Remington is a hot looking guy. I’m not blind to the fact. Nor is any other woman in a hundred mile radius. However, looks aren’t everything.

  Remington is a caring and loving person. These two go hand-in-hand. Again, I’ve seen firsthand how he treats his daughter, his mother, and even me. He held me without a second thought as I sobbed on his chest. It’s dear, how kind and sweet he really is.

  Remington said he loved me. But this is just a mix-up on his part. He’s confusing gratitude for my gesture with love. It also could be because of the time we’ve spent together. Maybe he loves me as a friend? It can be easy to confuse the two. Maybe he loves me in a motherly-type way because of my relationship with Arabella. Again, very easy to confuse the two. He’s obviously looking for a mother for his daughter.

  A sudden pain stabs my heart. I love Arabella. It’s true. There’s no way I can deny that nor do I even want to. Do I care for Remington? No doubt in my mind, I do. I truly wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing now if I didn’t care for him.

  Could I love him?

  Could is such a big word for me at this point. I’ve never truly loved anyone. I hated and loathed him and her. There isn’t even a minute ounce of anything but hatred for them.

  But here is this guy.

  A guy who makes me smile, laugh, and even feel pretty. Strangely enough, he wants to date me. However, he doesn’t scare me. He’s just more.

  So much more.

  When I leave Caryn’s office, I go to my house. I love my house. It’s small, but it’s mine. A small ranch style, two bedrooms, one bath, and a simple yard. I thought one day I’d get a dog or cat, but not yet.

  The house smells clean when I walk in. I love the smell of a clean house. A simple hint of lavender and bleach. To some, it’s weird, but it’s calming to me. Her house smelled like vodka and puke. It’s a smell I hate, and it can easily bring on a panic attack.

  I check around the house, and everything seems to be fine. I curl up in my bed and stare up at the ceiling. I always thought my bed comfortable. It’s a full-size bed. Just for me. Nonetheless, I’m sitting here noticing the pillows don’t have Remington’s scent or the fluffiness of his king-size pillow-top bed.

  For a split second, this doesn’t feel like home to me. I’m missing the sounds of the Rosin’s home. My home.

  My home?

  I close my eyes and take several deep breaths as my heart begins to race and my palms sweat. My mind has been racing all day, and I need to focus and clear my head.

  Long ago, Caryn told me about meditation, to which I laughed, but from time-to-time, I do it. I roll onto my back, aligning my body straight. I take a deep breath, calming my mind of the random thoughts first. I release that breath and relax my body. I continue this process until I only hear the sounds of my breathing.

  Somehow, I fell asleep, and when I wake, I almost pause, thinking it’d all been a dream, but when I pick up my phone, I know it’s real.

  Twenty-two missed text messages.

  Ten missed phone calls.

  All from Remington.

  I’ve been asleep for several hours. I get out of my bed, smooth the wrinkles from the covers, grab my purse and keys, and head home.

  When I walk into the house, my eyes land on Remington, who’s resting his elbows on his knees, hunched over with his head in his hands. My stomach drops. Something must be wrong with Arabella.

  “Remington?”

  He pops his head up, and it’s clear from his bloodshot eyes, he’s been crying. In a flash, he jumps up and races over to me. He wraps his big arms around me and holds me tight, burying his head in my hair. He pulls back, cups my face, and before I can blink, his lips are on mine.

  This is where I want to be.

  I hold tightly to his biceps as his tongues sweeps into my mouth. Our soft moans mix in perfect harmony.

  “Max,” Arabella’s cry from the bottom of the stairs causes Remington and I to jump apart, just in time for me to catch her in my arms.

  “Dad said you left, and he didn’t know when you were coming back. Is it because of me? Have I been bad?”

  Talk about having your heart ripped out. “Honey, no, no, no you’ve never been bad. I had to do something today, and I didn’t tell him what time I’d be back.” Yes, it’s a lie, but I definitely can’t tell her I was at my therapist and then had to go off and analyze my feeling for the rest of the day.

  “You’re not leaving us?”

  “No.” I hug her to my body. “I’m not leaving. I’m right here.” My eyes connect with Remington. The weariness is gone, and he looks happy.

  The rest of the night was our usual routine, even though I didn’t eat dinner. I wasn’t hungry. Remington didn’t say much since our kiss, but I really want him to do it again.

  This morning, I wake up before anyone. I plan on going to the office early and catching up on the work I missed. I leave a note for Remington and Arabella letting them know I went to work and would be working late.

  I spend the next ten hours getting intimately reacquainted with my voicemail and emails. No one seems upset for my days off, and there is nothing too pressing, just a lot of answering questions and drafting contracts. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  I check the time and see a text from Harlow and Meadow. They want to have drinks. I text them back telling them I’m leaving the office now.

  “Maxima.”

  As I gather my stuff, I glance up to see Jackson coming into my office and shutting the door. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to speak to you all day.”

  “About what?” I try to remain calm.

  “I talked to everyone upstairs.” He means the heads of the firm.

  “And…” I wait for him to continue.

  “You’re fired.”

  Those two words are not what I expected him to say. “What?”

  “You’re constantly calling off or leaving early. You’re not committed to this firm or this job anymore.”

  I’m not sure what to say. I’m committed. I’ve been with this firm for nine years.

  “However,” Jackson comes closer, and all the air leaves me. “Maybe we can work something out.”

  My stomach drops. No, this isn’t happening.


  “You have to know how much I’ve wanted you, Maxie.”

  The bile rises up from my stomach. He called me Maxie when he wasn’t calling me his special girl.

  “I know you like me as well. You started dressing sexier for me.”

  No, it’s for Remington.

  “Let’s start off with a kiss and see how it goes from there.”

  “Like hell.” I find my voice. “I’m leaving.” I try to sound brave, but I sound small, almost child-like.

  “Maxie.”

  A strength I didn’t know I had surges through me, and I shove Jackson as I hard as I can, and I bolt for the door and out to my car.

  I barely remember driving to the bar to meet the girls. I should go home because Remington can help take away the dirtiness I feel. Instead, I go into the bar and drink.

  Chapter Eight

  Remington

  I get Arabella to bed without any trouble tonight. I think it helps that Maxima left a note for her letting her know she’d be back late, but she will be back. I know Maxima has missed a lot of work lately, and it’ll only get worse when hockey season starts. I’ll need to figure out what to do with Arabella if Maxima leaves.

  I’m doing my best to remain hopeful she will stay with me. She’s taken everything so well, thus far, but I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. My life has been a roller coaster since Valentine’s Day.

  I spoke to my attorney today, and we have an appointment to meet this week. If Rickie has a private investigator, then I need to make sure all our ducks are in a row. Damn, I’m a metaphor junkie tonight.

  Suddenly, the doorbell rings and rips me from my thoughts. Not sure who would be here, I go and find out. Shock and dismay fill me when Harlow and Meadow are on the other side holding up…Maxima.

  “She’s very drunk,” Harlow informs me.

  “Maxima?” I never seen her drink more than two glasses of wine.

  “There’s my Remington.” She slightly slurs and falls…yes, falls…into my arms. “You’re great.”

  I grunt, and I’m able to adjust her body so she doesn’t fall out of my grasp.

  “I drove her car.” Meadow adds and hands me her purse and keys. “Her cell phone is in her purse.”

  “What the hell happened?” I ask them.

  “Bad day,” Maxima answers with a hiccup.

  “She’ll tell you all about it tomorrow,” Harlow says. “We’ll be leaving now. Have fun, Maxima.”

  Maxima hums against my neck as I shut the door and then toss her things on the couch.

  “Let’s get you upstairs.” I pick her up in my arms and carry her to the bedroom. She holds tightly onto my neck.

  I sit her on the edge of the bed, and she kicks her heels off. I figured I’d leave her in her clothes, but after I pick up her heels and toss them in her closet, I see her struggling out of her shirt.

  “Help, baby. Help me.” She called me baby? She’s never called me anything but Remington.

  “Baby,” she says with more force, and it snaps me to attention, and I rush over to help her.

  “Here.” I’m able to get her out of the shirt, and she giggles.

  I knew her tits would be fantastic. I try my best not to stare, but they’re right in front of me swathed in lace.

  Stop looking, asshole.

  “Baby, my pants.” She falls back on the bed.

  I groan. “Maxima, let’s leave them on.”

  “No,” she whines and wiggles her legs. “Take ‘em off, baby.”

  “Damn,” I mutter. “Let me get you a t-shirt.”

  “No,” she whimpers this time. “I’m so hot. Help me.”

  I don’t want her to wake Arabella, so I quickly give in and get her pants off. This isn’t how I wanted to see her naked for the first time. Well, practically naked anyway.

  She’s so much hotter than my imagination.

  Her long legs are toned and thick. God, I want them wrapped around me badly.

  “Come on, Maxima; let’s get you under the covers.” I finally get her and her alluring curves under the covers and away from temptation.

  “Thank you, baby,” she coos.

  “You’re welcome.” I kiss her forehead.

  I turn and pick up her clothes and then run downstairs to get her some cool water and aspirin. I wonder why she drank so much. I’m sure the stress I’m putting her under isn’t helping, not to mention her job, which is very demanding on her. I shouldn’t be as shocked.

  I put everything on the night stand and crawl on my side of the bed, making sure the bathroom light is on. I don’t want her waking up scared. I smooth her hair out of her face as she softly snores.

  She’s the most beautiful women ever.

  This time, I brush my lips against her cheek and then roll over, pulling the cover up to my chin.

  The smell of lavender fills me. It’s not choking; just a hint in the air. Maxima smells like lavender. I take a deep breath and imagine her naked body: Her full breasts, thick curves, and delicious legs.

  I want to lick her entire body.

  I know I’m hard as a rock, but it’s okay, because in this dream, Maxima is jerking me off. Not rough. Gently.

  Up and down.

  Up and down.

  “Does it feel good, baby?”

  Her voice is angelic in my ears. I moan as she continues to stroke me.

  “I want to fuck you.”

  Yep, I’m dreaming. Maxima doesn’t say fuck. I’ve barely heard her say damn.

  “Okay,” I answer dream Maxima.

  “Baby, you have to let me be on top. Being on the bottom scares me.”

  “Okay.”

  Wait…what?

  “And don’t call me special girl.”

  Something’s wrong. I mean, her stroking me feels great, but what kind of shit is she saying?

  “I’m so wet. Do you know how badly I want you?”

  “I want you.” I answer her back.

  Almost instantaneously, reality hits me via Maxima riding my dick. My eyes fly open, expecting to wake up being wrong, but I’m not.

  The light from the bathroom gives me a very crystal clear picture of Maxima on top of me. She still has a bra on, but her panties are gone.

  Where the hell did my shorts go?

  Did she take them off?

  “Maxima, stop.” I grab her biceps and sit up.

  She rides me harder, causing my brain and dick to battle for control. I’ve wanted nothing more than to bury in Maxima, but not like this. This is wrong.

  “Baby, I need to get off. I need to get off on you. You feel so good.” She rocks against me.

  She feels amazing on me. She belongs right here on top of me.

  “No,” I say both to myself and out loud.

  “Yes, baby, yes.” The entire bed is rocking, and I need to stop this. “Oh, God, baby I’m about to cum.”

  “Fuck.” Those words from her lips trigger my balls, dick, and hormones all at once.

  He pussy tightens around me like a vise grip. It’s almost virginal, but I’m sure Maxima has had boyfriends or lovers in the past. She just doesn’t talk about them.

  “I’m cumming.” Like before, the two words send me into a tailspin. My brain and conscience shut down, and I think with one head. Only one head.

  My dick.

  Maxima has soaked my dick and balls, but continues to rock on me.

  “Fuck.” I lay back, grab her hips, and pound up into her. Within seconds, I’m cumming deep in her. She collapses on my chest, breathing just as hard as I am.

  “You’re the best, baby.”

  “No, Maxima, I’m a fucking worthless human being.”

  But she’s passed out again, and I roll her onto her side of the bed. I’m able to pull myself out of her, and I softly curse again.

  No fucking condom.

  Seriously, I’m a worthless human being.

  I get up and hit the shower. No, I don’t want to wash her smell away. I want to wash away the dirtiest I’ve ever
felt. Fuck, I’m a true idiot. And now I’ve put myself in a real predicament, because when Maxima wakes up, she really will leave. I took advantage of a very drunk woman.

  I need to talk to her the moment she gets up, and Arabella can’t be around when this fight, well, discussion happens.

  As I finish my shower and change. I finally notice the time. It’s later than I thought. I grab my phone and head downstairs. I want to be right next to Maxima the second she opens her eyes. I call Vance. The kid is so predictable and sticks tight to his schedule.

  “Hey, Rosin.” The thick Irish accent answers after one ring.

  “Hey, Leprechaun, is Dacey available to talk?”

  “Why?”

  “I need a huge favor.”

  “Hang on.”

  I hear some shuffling around, and a few seconds later Dacey comes to the line.

  “Hi, Remington.” Her accent isn’t as thick as Vance’s.

  “Hi, Dacey, listen I was wondering if you could take Arabella to school? I know it’s short notice—”

  “It’s no problem. What time?”

  I tell her the time, and the name of the school. She says she’ll be here. When I end the call, I go up to Arabella’s room and get her ready.

  Of course, she’s worried about Maxima, but I tell her she’s not feeling well. I have no clue how I’ll be able to explain this situation when Maxima leaves us. Arabella is going to lose it and be mad at me. She has every right to be. Hell, Maxima should kick my ass for sure. I once deemed myself a smart man, and now, I’m seriously questioning what the hell I was thinking.

  Dacey comes to get Arabella, who seems to be over the moon that Dacey is taking her to school. I wave as I watch them pull away before I go back into the house, trying to figure out this shit storm I’m in.

  I whipped up some breakfast for Maxima, along with coffee and more aspirin. When I checked on her earlier, she drank some of the water and took the pills. Now it’s early afternoon and we had to talk, especially, before Arabella gets home.

  I sit the tray of food down on the nightstand and look at Maxima. She can stop the world with her look and her curves.