Page 12 of Just One More Mistletoe

He shook his head. “No poor-me look is going to sway me, now spill.” He paused, thinking of her alternatives. “Or you could always opt to speed the game along and remove an item of clothing.”

“My sweet sixteen was my worst birthday,” she said quickly, obviously making her choice.

He suppressed a laugh. “What happened?” He stepped closer, wishing she’d taken him up on his alternative offer.

“My dog ran away.”

“I’m not buying that.” He folded his arms across his chest, gratified when her eyes followed the movement. “But I am listening.”

Her arm brushed his and she didn’t break contact as she said, “Somehow, foster care was alerted and let me know that my father died suddenly, the day before I turned sixteen. My mother was nowhere to be found.”

Max breathed in deeply. A punch in the gut would have been more gentle, but it was his own fault. He’d suggested they reveal something deep and personal, and she had. She trusted him, showing it far more than if she’d removed her clothes.

“What happened?” he asked softly. Though she couldn’t have any fond memories of the man, losing a parent couldn’t be easy. “Heart attack?”

She nodded. “Apparently. And instead of grief, I felt nothing. He’d abandoned me, after all. But that left me feeling like an awful human being.” And with no one to talk to, he assumed, feeling for the young girl she’d been.

The strain in her face and the guilt in her eyes were obvious. “And here I thought my shooting first would leave you more exposed.” She shook her head and treated him to a brief smile. “Your turn.” She gestured to the cue.

Max swallowed hard. Had he really thought this would be light and easy?

“Okay.” Still shaken, he bent over the table and took in his options before lining up his shot, missing the pocket by too much.

He felt her light touch as she tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to find her in his personal space, within kissing distance. He reached for her shoulders and held on.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she whispered, calling him on his deliberately missed shot. An easier play had sat by the corner pocket but he’d chosen to forfeit instead.

“No, I didn’t. But I wanted to.” He’d had two choices. Open a vein and exchange information or watch her peel off the clingy green suit.

No matter how much he’d rather see her undress, he owed her and had to reveal a personal secret. She’d opened up to him tonight. Twice. If his goal was getting closer, he had to return the favor. Besides, he wanted to let her in. For the first time, he wanted to connect with a woman in more places than in bed. He’d proven himself adept at making selfish choices in life, Max thought, but not when it came to Brandy. She was too special.

Gratitude flickered in her eyes and she waited in silence for him to pay up. He wasn’t comfortable and hated like hell for having put himself in this position, but he supposed that spoke of Brandy’s effect on him. “My father resents me for not choosing law and I’ve never measured up to Stephan as Dad’s favorite son.” He tensed, having admitted his deepest vulnerability and laid it out there for her to see.

Her gaze softened. “Your father’s a fool,” she said, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

Her lips lingered over his and as his chest rasped against her fur-lined V-neck, he needed more than a simple kiss. He fumbled for her zipper, the one that would allow him to peel off the outfit and bare her for him to see. But she pulled back before he could get a decent grasp and he groaned.

“Your last miss didn’t count,” she said in a husky voice. “Now play pool.”

He wagged a finger in the air. “Like I said, naughty girl.”

“What fun is it if you don’t have to work for it?”

“Trust me, sweetheart, it’d be plenty fun. But if you insist, I’ll take another turn.” Having laid his soul bare, he knew it was time to turn up the heat. “But before I make this next shot…”

“You’re too confident about your gaming abilities,” she said, interrupting him.

“Aren’t you the one who said never play a game you can’t win? But if at any point you change your mind…”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have let you bring me here if I wasn’t sure.”

He let out a slow breath of air that did little to help his rapidly beating heart. “Just remember, it’s your choice.”

She looked at him in a way no one—no woman—had ever looked at him before, with just the right mixture of trust, reverence, and desire to make a man fall to his knees.

“You’re a nice guy, Max.”

He’d never been called nice before and he knew his actions tonight were as unique as she was. “You’re pretty damn special yourself.” He leaned over the table and easily made his next shot, then walked a few steps to line up the next. “But something tells me you won’t be thinking such great thoughts about me after this,” he said, sinking another ball as he spoke, then his third before shifting her way.

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