Knock, knock!
Who’s there?
Ivana.
Ivana who?
Ivana hump your brains out!
Grace snorted.
I wish you could. But you’re not here. For now, I guess, I’ll have to pleasure myself.
The three small gray dots on her cell screen flickered and then disappeared, as though he was typing then deleting repeatedly, before his reply finally came through: Damn. Are you really?
She laughed while typing: No. No time, although I may do that later. I have to get ready for my girls’ night. Bet you wish you’d taken my panties now, don’t you?
“Wow, Max, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Everything all right?”
Max looked up from his cell phone to Josh, who was sitting across the table of the burger and grill place the team had chosen to eat. There were twelve of them at a long table in the center of the place, all of them talking and ravenous from the day’s labor. Max ached in places he’d forgotten about since his gym sessions in rehab. It was no wonder he hurt, considering all the lifting and lugging he’d done over the past few days.
“What’s up?” Josh asked, looking at the phone in Max’s hand.
Max shoved his cell into the pocket of his jeans, which were a little snug thanks to Grace’s message. Shit. He’d created a monster. “Just a text from Grace.”
Josh raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I can tell what kind of text, too. Ruby is a nightmare for that when I’m away and can’t do anything about it.”
Max grimaced. “Dude, that’s my cousin.”
“And my daughter,” Vince called from three places down above the noise.
Josh sat forward, ignoring his father-in-law. “So, you and Grace, huh?”
“What about me and Grace?”
Josh shrugged nonchalantly, avoiding Max’s pointed stare, smiling down at his pot of ranch dressing. “I just heard you guys had fun at Whiskey’s the other night.”
“Everyone heard,” Rob added from next to Max, nudging him playfully. The other guys nearest to them smirked. They’d obviously heard about Max and Grace’s cellar activities, too.
Max grinned despite himself. He knew the banter would come eventually and, truthfully, he didn’t mind. It wasn’t like he was embarrassed. Hell no.
Seeing the deputy’s eyes fire up when he emerged from the cellar with the smell of Grace all over him?
That shit was golden. He’d all but sauntered past the prick with a smirk front and center. Besides, he knew Grace hadn’t been too uncomfortable that they’d been heard. She’d known it was a possibility and, Christ, she’d practically begged him for it. He exhaled and picked up his fork, recollecting that shit-hot look she’d given him over her shoulder. It was filled with a dare, a want, and all the things that made Max want to do dastardly things to her wherever and whenever they could. Woman was dangerous without even trying.
He paused, and played with the food on his plate. He knew deep down he should have felt unsettled, but he couldn’t find it in himself—beneath the unfamiliar sensation of contentment that had snuck in since Grace arrived on the scene—to care. Grace was fun to fuck. She was gorgeous, and witty, and he liked being around her. He liked her. He liked what they were doing and for the first time in a while, he liked what it felt like. Their arrangement worked and he was enjoying himself. Plus, he was eight months clean and sober. With no worries, no strings, and with the heavy weight of his addiction gradually becoming lighter and easier to bear as each day passed, life felt pretty damn awesome.
“You’re a lucky son of a bitch,” Rob muttered under his breath. “She’s smoking hot.”
“Aren’t you married?” another guy, whose name Max couldn’t recall, and who had cornrows and sparkling white teeth, asked from Rob’s other side.
“Please,” Rob countered with a shrug. “Just ’cause I’m eatin’, don’t mean I can’t look at the menu.”
Max picked up his cheeseburger and took a mammoth bite, not even the least bit guilty for enjoying the sliver of smugness that wrapped around his chest.
“So are you guys, like, exclusive?” Josh asked, sipping from his beer bottle.
Max shook his head. “We’re not a couple or anything, it’s casual, but we don’t sleep with anyone else.”
“Damn. There goes my shot,” Josh’s friend Aiden drawled, snapping his fingers. He looked at Max with attentive gray eyes, his blond eyebrows furrowing playfully. “Wait. How long you stayin’ in Preston County? When do you go back to New York?”
The table laughed again at Aiden’s suggestion, but for some reason, Max struggled to join in. He smiled faintly at Josh as he shook his head good-naturedly at his friend, and picked up his drink, rubbing the heel of his hand against a sudden heat burning deep in the center of his chest. He eyed his burger distrustfully.