“Sometimes very bad.”
“You think I’m gonna cheat on you, lie to you, beat you?”
“I don’t know.”
That shadow darkened and his eyes again narrowed just as his arms grew tight.
“You don’t know?” he asked.
“I didn’t know with them either.”
“Jesus, Nina, I give you any indication I’d fuckin’ do that to you, to anyone?”
Actually, he hadn’t.
Of course, there was the small matter of his dead wife that he still hadn’t shared with me. Along with a lot of his life. Whereas I’d shared a good deal of mine. Or it had walked in his front door, spilled out in phone conversations he was privy to or came out when I was in a snit.
To explain this concept, I told him, “I don’t even know how old you are.”
“Yeah, that’s because you haven’t fuckin’ asked. I don’t know how old you are either but I’ve actually fuckin’ asked.”
Unfortunately, I had to admit, he had me there.
“What’s your point?” he asked when I fell silent.
“Sorry?”
“What’s my age got to do with it?”
“I’m just pointing out we barely know each other and, further, you’re not exactly forthcoming.”
“Not hidin’ anything, Duchess, unlike you who’s secretive as hell and when you aren’t, you’re guarded.”
I felt my own eyes narrow and I snapped, “I am not,” even though I knew I kind of was.
“Yeah, how old are you?”
“Thirty-six,” I replied immediately and his face suddenly cleared.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m thirty-six years old.”
“Jesus,” he muttered, that shadow drifting back.
“What?”
“You’re not thirty-six.”
I stared at him for a second speechless, in shock not only at his words but the firm, knowing way he said them.
“I am,” I told him.
“You think that’ll turn me off, you tellin’ me you’re thirty-six?”
What did he mean by that?
“I am thirty-six!” I snapped somewhat loudly.
He scowled at me, his eyes moving over my face as he did it then he asked, “Seriously?”
“Yes!” I snapped again and then pushed at his chest to get away.
His arms got tighter. “Nina.”
I stopped pushing and glared at him. “Obviously, since my age is such a turn off, right about now I should be leaving.”
His arms got even tighter but his head tipped back, his eyes rolled up and he looked at the ceiling of the sauna.
“Grant me patience,” he muttered his prayer to the ceiling and I started pushing again so he looked back at me. “Stop pushin’, Duchess.”
“Let me go.”
“Nope.”
“Let me go!” I shouted, Max gave me another shake but I kept pushing.
“You don’t look thirty-six,” he told me.
“Let me go.”
“Thirty, at a push.”
“Max. Let. Me. Go!”
“I was surprised, surprised enough not to believe you.”
“Let me go!”
“You wanna know how old I am?”
I gave up pushing since I wasn’t getting anywhere and it appeared Max was determined to have this conversation. If I’d learned nothing in the last week, I learned that when Max was determined to do something, he did it.
Instead of pushing, I glared at him again and said, “Not particularly.”
He ignored me and stated, “Thirty-seven.”
He was older than me. That was good. Not that it mattered if he was younger, really. Actually, not that it mattered at all since I didn’t care.
“Birthday’s May eighth,” he continued, breaking into my thoughts.
“Fascinating,” I drawled sarcastically even though it was because he wasn’t a year older than me, he was a year and a half and his birthday was only a month away.
Max went on, “Dad died when I was twenty-nine, took me six years to build this house.”
That was fascinating too. Six years was a long time. He must have been determined to do that as well.
Even so, I kept my mouth shut.
“He died of cancer, had it since I was sixteen, fought it back for thirteen years before it got him.”
That was also fascinating but in a sad yet inspiring way.
Still, I demanded, “Stop talking,” but he ignored that too.
“Don’t know why Kami’s such a bitch. Pretty much has been since I could remember. Mom, she fucked up, getting shot of Dad since she always loved him. They fought, fuck, you wouldn’t believe it. Even when they were divorced. But she always loved him. Told me that after his funeral. His death broke her. She was so goddamned stubborn, so fuckin’ proud, she let her life just slip away. Lived in the same town as the man she loved the length of it but only with him for eight years. Now, she’s bitter for it.”
Unwilling to let Max’s sharing breach my defenses, I latched onto something he said and called him on it. “Are you insinuating I’m proud and stubborn?”
“Don’t think you’re proud, babe, but you’re stubborn as hell.”
“I am not.”
“You sure as fuck are.”