Page 19 of Embracing Us

Chapter eight

Linda

“What did you say happened to the cool box?” Susan asks as her eyes run over my dishevelled appearance. Max stands beside me holding Jackson, rocking him gently. As usual, he was sleeping soundly, and his father wanted a cuddle. He never learns. “It’s a big item to lose.” Her eyebrows rise in question. Max chuckles under his breath then looks directly at his aunt.

“We went for a swim, and someone must have picked it up. It wasn’t there when we got back to our towels,” he says. “We’ll replace it.”

“Bloody thieves,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Summer is the worst; tourists everywhere with their light fingers. If it’s not nailed down, they take it.” Her focus moves to the door where I dumped the beach bag. “Where are your towels?”

“Already in the wash,” Max responds, quickly. She shoots him a sceptical look. “Thank you for looking after Jackson,” he says, changing the subject away from our missing items. “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

“He was perfect,” she coos. “Whilst you’re all here, I’ll have him anytime. Let you both get some much-needed alone time. Are you sure you don’t want me to keep him overnight?”

“No,” I interject hastily and both of them glance at me. “Sorry, it’s just he’s still so small and…” I trail off, embarrassed by my interruption. Susan smiles kindly.

“I understand. Maybe another day,” she replies. “They grow up so quickly; you don’t want to miss a moment.”

“Thank you,” I say, sincerely. “I, we, really do appreciate you having him for this afternoon and evening. It was lovely to get some time, just the two of us.” Max flashes me a cheeky smile. He has the look in his eye he gets when he’s going to say something completely inappropriate. I scowl at him in warning.

“Yes, having Linda all to myself was extremely satisfying,” he says. “For both of us, I hope.”

“Judging by the look on her face, you won’t be getting any more satisfaction,” Susan retorts then snickers. “Anyway, I best go and make sure everything is good in the bar. I’ll see you both tomorrow. Have a nice evening.” She embraces each of us in turn then pops a kiss on Jackson’s forehead. “Good night, little prince,” she whispers. We both watch her walk from her room.

“Ready for bed?” Max asks, cocking his head to one side, his eyes holding mine. “Or are you in the mood to dance?”

“Dance?” I repeat back to him, confused. He steps towards me, Jackson still in his arms. He leans down, his lips grazing my ear.

“Horizontal dancing,” he whispers, causing my breath to catch in my throat. “I’m not finished with your punishment yet, Beautiful. I want to make those ass cheeks of yours glow, then sink myself inside you.”

“Yes, sir.” It’s the only words I can push past my lips as my mouth dries. “Do with me as you please.”

“Come on then,” he says, firmly. “You walk ahead. I want to watch that backside of yours as you climb the stairs in front of me. Because I know what it looks like underneath that scrap of a dress you’re wearing and what it will look like once I’m through with you.”

Since our reconnection after Jackson’s birth, sex has become more fulfilling for both of us. Which is surprising. In my previous marriage, once Marina was born, intimacy all but dried up except for trying for a sibling which never happened.

Max has always been conscientious as a lover. He tends to my needs before his own every time we come together. Now, not only does he make love to me like I’m the only woman on earth, but the emotions he causes me to experience are mesmerising. When I’m with him, I feel loved in every molecule of my body. As cliché as it is, he completes me.

Back in our room, Max lays out a towel on our bed then lays down Jackson. I stand, leaning against the bathroom doorframe watching him looking after his little boy. Carefully, he prepares him for bed then feeds him his final bottle.

“You’re a good daddy,” I tell him as he sits on the bed, his son in his arms sucking greedily at the milk bottle. Max glances at me and smiles softly. My stomach clenches. “Heaven help us if he grows up to look like you. I’ll be beating girls off him with a stick.”

“Is that something you do regularly for me?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Beat women away with a stick.”

“It was a figure of speech,” I tell him. “But there have been a few since we met.” I hold up my hand, closing my fingers then opening one up on each name. “Lacy, Marcy, Bex…” I pause when I see his face drop, then walk over and sit down beside him, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. He gives me a wary look. “But they don’t matter because you’re here with me. I’m sorry for being insecure before. I know you love me.” He relaxes beneath my fingers, and a small sigh escapes his lips.

“I’ve always loved you,” he says. “That day in the market when I picked you up off the floor, just looking at you gave me a hard-on, and I never thought I’d see you again.” I roll my eyes, and he grins. “As I told you, Cupid has well and truly shot me with that arrow. You’re stuck with me, Linda Butterby.” His use of my full name causes me to pause. My eyes run over his face as he looks at me. My brain snaps; what am I thinking saying marriage is off the table? I’d be insane not to spend my life with this man, and marrying him would be the ultimate gesture of forever.

On impulse, I slide down off the bed and kneel in front of him. He blinks at me, stunned by my actions. I place my hands on his knees as he holds our little boy.

“What are you doing, Beautiful?” he says, perplexed.

“I’m asking you to marry me,” I reply.

“What? Why?” he splutters. I stand, take Jackson from him and move to lay him in his cot before returning to my kneeling position in front of him.

“Max Gordon, will you marry me?” I state, firmly. “Because when I told you at Christmas time I didn’t want to get married again, it was short-sighted.”

“Why the change of heart?” he asks, I can hear the emotion catching in his throat. He wants this, I know he does.

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