Page 21 of Tempting Max

I grit my teeth and stifle an eyeroll. I’ve done the not working thing, I’ve done the kept woman thing. It is not for me. I don’t bow for anyone anymore, especially this slimy, cold-blooded, sewer creature. “I actually love my job. And you need to keep your money. It will be the only thing that will make you happy when you’re all alone at night and don’t have your youth to keep you relevant.”

His eyes flicker with annoyance and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if they blinked vertically like a fucking viper. “Oh, I see, you think you’re funny.”

My patience is wearing thin and there isn’t a force on earth that could keep my hands from flying to my hips in tight fists. “Please don’t tell me what I think.”

Reptile-boy laughs and elbows his friends. “This one’s spicy. Bet she’s hot in the sack.”

“Excuse me,” I interrupt, furious that he would talk about me as if I’m an item on the auction block and not an actual human. “How dare—”

Before I can get my words out. The three bros vanish from their stool as if sucked up by a tornado.

Shocked, I take a step back. It wasn’t a tornado, but Hurricane Max, dragging all three of them by their expensive collars as if he’s dragging a couple pillow cases full of Halloween candy and not fully grown men.

“Get the fuck out of my bar and don’t come back,” I hear him shout through the door. His face is so tight, so angry that it takes my breath away.

Reptile bro scrambles to his feet like he’s going to try to fight but when he sees the angry mass of man—who has a good six inches on him—in front of him, he does the smartest thing he’s done all night. His voice is sullen when he reminds Max that he needs his credit card.

I swear I see steam come from Max’s ears and when he storms back into the bar, I hand him the credit card, which he promptly takes outside and throws in the bro’s face. “Learn how to treat women like humans, dirtbag,” he seethes, before leaving them all standing on the sidewalk like lost children on a school field trip.

My mouth is open when he comes back in. The entire brewery has stopped, as if someone hit a freeze button and everyone is staring at Max and me. All he does is glance at my direction to make sure I’m okay, adjust his shoulders, and march back into the brewhouse as if nothing happened.

A thousand emotions course through me when he disappears. But what I land on is rage.

Because he didn’t give me the chance to get rid of them on my own. I could feel New Gus coming in to the save the day and I’m pretty sure I could have laid them flat with a few insults. I would have liked a chance to try.

Nearly bubbling over with rage, I march towards the brewhouse to tell Max exactly what I think of that little display.

14

MAX

The sound of the brewhouse door being thrown open startles me and seeing Gus storm in, eyes flashing, cheeks high with color—is almost enough to finish me off then and there.

I can tell she’s pissed, and I can guess why, but the second I saw those losers giving her a hard time, I lost my ever-loving mind. I saw red. No one has made me as furious as those three fuckers, not even Sloane. They are lucky they got out with just bruised egos instead of dented foreheads.

“Max,” she says, stopping three feet away from me, her hands on her hips the way she always does when she’s angry or irritated or puzzling through a problem. Her nostrils flare a little. “You know I had that situation under control. I could have handled it. I didn’t need you storming the castle to save me from the tower.”

I swallow and lean against my desk in an effort to keep my body away from hers because all I want to do is pull her to me and kiss her until she’s not mad anymore. I cross my arms over my chest. “I know you can handle yourself, Gus. You’ve shown that you’re more than capable.”

She blinks, surprised by my answer and her hands fall from her hips. “Then why make such a scene?”

My jaw ticks a few times as I try to decide how I’m going to defend my idiot behavior. But I can’t think of anything other than burning fury. The way those assholes looked at her…

“Max,” she says again after I don’t answer. “Answer me. I’m tired of this grumpy, reclusive thing you have going on. All you do is hide. Hide from people, hide from me.”

I squeeze my eyes shut when she hits the nail directly on the head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She throws her hands up. “Of course, you don’t, because then you’d have to actually connect to another person. Are we not even going to talk about what happened during the storm? Or are you hiding from that too?”

“Gus,” I say, but I don’t know how to continue. The longer she’s in my space, the closer I am to losing my shit. I can smell her cinnamon perfume. I can feel the chemistry between our bodies reaching a boiling point and I don’t know what to do anymore to keep from doing something we’ll regret. I just want to hold her, taste her, bury myself in her gorgeous body.

“What?” She takes a step forward. “We almost kissed. It’s not that hard to acknowledge. Now I want to know, did you mean to?”

The emotion in her eyes nearly flattens me and I suddenly realize she’s been just as tortured by that moment as I have. “Mean to what?”

“Kiss me,”she half-shouts, looking like she’s had it with me and the entirety of my gender.

She spins on her heel to leave when I don’t answer and the room sways slightly. I grip the edge of my desk

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