Page 61 of Sin and Redemption

Afterward, he didn’t immediately get up. He lay on his back beside me and stared up at the ceiling, his chest heaving.

I lowered my hips after a while, hoping this fertile window would give me what I wanted. I slanted Maximus a look. His expression was unreadable, but I was fairly sure it wasn’t happy.

“Would you mind if I came to your parents’ with you today? Maybe I can help in some way that doesn’t involve handling any dogs?”

Maximus turned his head to me, surprise taking over his face. His amber eyes were even more breathtaking when they weren’t swirling with darkness. “You sure? I thought you made plans with your family?” I’d never noticed it before, but when he said “your family,” his tone definitely changed. I knew his relationship with my family was as distant as mine with his. Again, it was my fault. Well, and Flavio wasn’t fond of Maximus because of what had happened and I’d never been brave enough to talk to him about it.

“Maybe we could go to them tomorrow for dinner?”

Maximus nodded. He regarded me as if he was trying to understand me. I gave him a small smile. Something changed last night, and I really wanted to make an effort with Maximus. If I got pregnant, I wanted our child to have parents who weren’t mere strangers. I didn’t want to get my hopes up that we might be able to create a marriage like my parents had.

Maximus’s eyes sought the clock on the wall, and he grimaced. “We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

We both hurried toward our respective bathroom, and for the first time, I wondered if it wouldn’t be nice to shower together after sex.

I put on sturdy jeans and a sweater plus a pair of old leather boots. I really wanted to help Maximus and his family in the shelter today, and pretty clothes wouldn’t be practical. Maximus waited for me in front of the entrance door when I grabbed my raincoat. The weather was still quite unpredictable, and I didn’t want to risk getting a cold. That probably wouldn’t help with a possible pregnancy.

Maximus too was dressed for a day of hard manual work. He wore blue jeans, a casual, tight white T-shirt, a half-unbuttoned checkered flannel shirt, and a weathered brown-lined leather jacket. He held a cap in his hand but put his on when I reached him. “Ready?”

I wasn’t sure why I did it, but I reached for his chin, brushing over the growing beard. “This doesn’t qualify as a three-day stubble anymore. Are you growing a beard?”

I lowered my hand, embarrassed that I’d touched him like that, which didn’t really make sense, considering we had just slept with each other. But this felt more intimate in certain ways.

“I’m not sure yet. I kind of like it. I’m not sure I’m the beard type.”

“It suits you,” I said with a small smile, then quickly looked at my watch. “We’ll definitely be late.”

On our ride to the shelter, which took us roughly thirty minutes since the streets weren’t jammed, I was nervous. As with Maximus, my relationship with his parents and brother had been distant. I hadn’t really tried to see them outside of social functions or the obligatory duty visits on Christmas, Easter, and the respective birthdays. They would be surprised to see me today. Building new relationships still made me feel insecure, especially since we’d started off on the wrong foot.

Growl and Primo were already outside, building a dog hut in a small barn with the doors open. They greeted us with a brief wave when we got out.

“Mom’s inside, preparing a second breakfast since you were too late for the first,” Primo said pointedly.

I flushed. His gaze moved from me to Maximus and he cocked an eyebrow. I hoped they didn’t share any intimate details.

Maximus waved him off. “Don’t pretend you won’t be hungry for a second breakfast in no time.”

Growl tapped Primo’s shoulder. “Let’s focus on this. Stop teasing your brother.”

Maximus touched my lower back and guided me into the house. Cara was hustling in the kitchen, making sandwiches and baking muffins.

“I’m not a great baker, but I reckon I can’t do much wrong with chocolate muffins, right?” She came toward me with a warm smile and pulled me into a hug. “We’re so happy that you could join us today.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” I whispered.

She shook her head and squeezed my shoulder with an even warmer smile before she moved on to Maximus and cupped his face with a motherly look. “A beard?”

Watching Cara treat Maximus with motherly tenderness reminded me of what Isa had said: that Maximus might also be dealing with trauma. I knew I was asking a lot from him without giving him much in return, and I promised myself to pay more attention to his little signs.

He patted her hands and gently removed them. “I think your muffins are done.”

She turned around to the oven and pulled out the muffin tin. None of the tiny cakes had risen from their molds. A glance at them told me they were way too dense.

Cara sighed. “This doesn’t look good.”

“They don’t have to look good. They just have to taste good,” Maximus said, taking out a muffin despite his mother’s warning that it was hot. He took a bite, then chewed heavily before he gave his mother a grimace.

“Not good?” she asked. He shook his head and swallowed in a way that suggested the dough was as dry as desert sand.

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