Chapter 3
Three months later
“Lucy! Over here!”
Lucy waved at Carrie and Rita before weaving past the tables of the busy restaurant. She plopped down in her seat and tucked her purse under her chair before leaning over and kissing Rita on the cheek.
“Hi, Rita.”
“Hi, honey. How are you?”
“Good, thanks. How are you?”
“I can’t complain – I’m having lunch with my girls, aren’t I?”
Lucy smiled at her. It had taken maybe – maybe – a month for her to fall in love with Jason’s mom. The woman was sweet and kind and had welcomed her into their family with open arms. She liked Harvey as well, he was very similar to Jason in both his looks and manners, but Rita had won her over almost immediately.
“Jason was fine with you giving up part of your Saturday to have lunch with his mom and sister?” Rita asked.
“They see each other every day at work, mom,” Carrie said. “I’m sure it’s nice for both of them to have a break from each other.”
Lucy smiled hesitantly at her. She liked Carrie but she wasn’t so certain that Jason’s older sister liked her. She was almost positive that Carrie disapproved of their relationship but whether it was because Jason was her superior or just a general dislike for her, Lucy wasn’t sure.
It doesn’t matter if Carrie approves or doesn’t like you. Jason loves you – that’s what counts.
Very true and she’d never been one to care what others thought but she couldn’t deny that she wanted Carrie to like her. She supposed it was only natural to want the family of the man she loved to like and accept her.
“He was just heading out for an afternoon of surfing,” Lucy said. “He told me to tell you both ‘hello’.”
“Are you still coming over tomorrow night for dinner?” Rita asked. “Harvey’s got a new salmon recipe he’s dying to try out on us.”
“We’ll be there,” Lucy promised. “How’s work going, Carrie?”
“Oh, fine,” Carrie said. “Busy as hell right now – I’m actually heading to the office after lunch.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lucy said. “I had to work a few hours last weekend, but that’s pretty unusual.”
Carrie shrugged. “I probably wouldn’t mind working on a Saturday if my boyfriend was in the office next to me.”
It was just an innocent comment, Lucy told herself. She didn’t mean anything by it – stop reading into everything she says for God’s sake.
“What are you having for lunch?” Rita perused the menu in front of her, banishing the small moment of awkwardness.
* * *
“I have a life-altering question to ask, Luce.”
Max dropped into the spare chair in her office and gave her a serious look.
“One sec.” Lucy studied the screen in front of her, making a few changes to the document before saving the file and leaning back in her chair. “Hit me.”
“Should I ask the lady who wins the ‘who fucks Max first’ bet going around the office to take me with her to Heaven’s Gate Spa, or just keep pretending like I don’t know the bet exists?”
“Hmm,” Lucy placed her finger on her chin and stared at the ceiling of her office. “Depends on who wins the bet, I suppose. Who has the best chance?”
Max leaned forward. “Well, Eileen brought me a coffee from Starbucks this morning ‘just because’, so that automatically put her in the top three, but Alex upped the ante by leaning over and flashing me her boobs at lunch.”
Lucy burst into laughter. “You do know that Eileen is in a relationship right?”
Max blinked at her. “She is? Then why the hell is she participating in the bet?”
“Maybe she really was just being nice in bringing you a coffee,” Lucy said.
“If that was the case, why did she let her ass brush against my arm when she turned to leave?” Max asked.
Lucy laughed again. “Stay away from Eileen, Max. Her boyfriend is a biker.”
“Thanks for the tip. I guess that leaves just Alex.”
He grinned at the look on Lucy’s face. “I see you like her as much as she likes you. She’s the one who started the bet, isn’t she?”
“Yes. She started the same bet for Jason when he first arrived.”
“What?” Max gave her a fake look of hurt. “I’m not the only guy in the office you sicko ladies have plotted to try and bed?”
“Um…sure you are?” Lucy said innocently.
Max laughed and sat back in his chair. “So is that how your relationship started with Jason? You were determined to win a free trip to a spa?”
“Oh God, no,” Lucy said. “I don’t participate in the office betting pool. How did you find out about the bet, by the way?”
“I have my ways,” Max said mysteriously. “How’s the world of copy editing going?”
“Exciting as always. How’s the world of numbers?”
“More titillating then you could ever imagine,” Max said solemnly.
She grinned at him as he ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “Hey, do you know of a good hairdresser?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Lucy said. “My best friend, Amanda, is a stylist and really good. Want me to text her and set up an appointment for you?”
“Sure. I’m available any night this week,” Max said as Jason stepped into her office.
“Hello, Jason.”
“Hello, Max. Lucy, can I talk to you privately for a moment?” Jason said.
Max stood and grinned at Lucy. “Text me later, alright?”
Lucy nodded as a scowl crossed Jason’s face. He smoothed it out almost immediately as Max clapped him on the back and left the room.
Jason shut the door behind him and stared at Lucy. “What are you – “
He stopped and took a deep breath before smiling at her. “Sorry, none of my business. Have you had a chance to look at the document I sent you?”
“I have. I just want to take one more look through it. Do you need it right away?”
“No, after lunch is fine. Paul’s sending you two more documents that are a bit of a rush, though.”
“I’ll start them right away,” she replied.
“Okay, thanks. Still on for lunch?”
“Yep.”
“Good.”
He hesitated and then opened the door. She hurried across the room and shut the door with a soft thud before wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and kissing him firmly on the mouth.
He cupped her ass and returned the kiss, darting his tongue into her mouth and sliding it across hers in a sensual caress that made her shudder with desire. She moaned and squeezed him tightly before pulling her head back.
“What was that for?” He asked.
“Just a reminder of what you’re getting tonight,” she said.
He grinned wickedly. “I should warn you that I’m in the mood for restraints tonight.”
“Sure,” she said sweetly. “I’m perfectly fine with chaining you to the bed, Mr. Young.”
He growled and squeezed her ass again before nipping at her bottom lip. “Being cheeky gets you extra spankings, Ms. Reid.”
She laughed and rested her forehead on his. “Are you having a good day?”
“Yes, how about you?”
“I am.”
“Good. I’d better get back to it.”
She caught his hand before he could leave. “I’m texting Max with an appointment for a haircut with Amanda.”
A brief look of relief crossed his face before he leaned forward and kissed her again. “I’ll see you at lunch, little Lucy.”
* * *
Amanda groaned softly and pressed her hand against her stomach before continuing to sweep around her station. She had her period and, like always, she had horrible cramps. She glanced at her watch before sighing. She had one more appointment before she could close the salon and go home to a hot bath and a large glass of wine. A rather dismal way to spend her Friday evening, she supposed, but at this moment it sounded positively delightful.
The bell over the door chimed and she forced a smile on her face before turning around. “Hi, be right…”
She trailed off, her mouth dropping open, as a giant of a man, ducking to get through the doorway, stepped into the salon. He smiled at her and she closed her mouth with a snap.
“Hi there. I have an appointment with Amanda.”
She stared at him blankly as he took a few steps toward her. The smile on his face faltered and he glanced around the salon. “My appointment was at seven thirty. Lucy Reid set it up?”
She continued to stare at him and he cleared his throat. “Maybe I have the wrong salon?”
Say something, idiot!
“Of course, I’m sorry,” she said. She leaned the broom against her chair and held her hand out. “I’m Amanda. You must be Max.”
Her hand was swallowed by his large one and she twitched at the feel of his hard calluses. Lucy had said he was an accountant but he definitely didn’t have the hands of an accountant.
Or the body.
She ignored both her inner voice and her urge to look over his large body again. Christ, he was big. She was 5’7”, not exactly a waif-like height for a woman, and she was absolutely dwarfed by him. He smelled delicious and she leaned a little closer, inhaling deeply. She realized with embarrassment that she was still holding his hand and she dropped it hurriedly, smiling weakly at him again.
“Sorry, it’s been a long day and I’m a little off my game.”
“No problem.”
His voice was like warm velvet, washing over her and making her forget how badly her stomach ached. A new throb began in her pelvis and she took a deep breath.
Get a hold of yourself, Amanda. You are not being turned on by a damn voice and if you are, you seriously need to get laid.
“It’s nice to meet you, Max. Why don’t you come to the back and I’ll wash your hair.”
He followed her to the back of the salon, she wondered briefly if he was checking out her ass in her tight skirt, and she pointed to the closest chair. “Have a seat.”
He sat down and she tucked a cape around his chest, struggling to fasten it around his thick neck. His neck was roughly the size of her thigh and she gave him a quick look. “Is it too tight?”
He shook his head and she watched with some amusement as he tried to scoot his large body down so he could rest his head in the sink. His legs stretched out almost to the wall and she gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry, the chair’s a bit small.”
He grinned at her with the perfect white teeth of a model and she unconsciously ran her tongue over her crooked eye-tooth as he said, “Thanks for trying to make me feel better but I’m perfectly aware that I’m the problem – not the chair.”
She smiled, keeping her lips closed to hide her crooked tooth. “You must have fun finding clothes that fit.”
“I special order a lot of stuff. Shoes are the real problem.”
She glanced down at his plain black loafers, her eyes widening a little at the size of them.
You know what they say, Amanda. Big feet, big –
Shut it!
Clearing her throat roughly, she reached over him and turned the water on, checking the temperature before using the sprayer to wet his thick, blond hair. She squeezed shampoo into her hand and massaged it into his scalp. He closed his eyes as she rubbed and massaged, and she used the opportunity to study his face. He was tanned with broad cheekbones and a broad nose that should have been too big but fit perfectly on him. Normally she didn’t care for beards but she liked the way his looked. A scar slashed across his left eyebrow and, without thinking about it, she leaned closer to get a better look at it. Her breasts pressed against his wide shoulder and his eyes opened. Their faces were kissing distance apart, and she flushed bright red before snapping her head back.
“Sorry. I was just, um, I mean, I saw your scar and…”
She trailed off and scrubbed his scalp a little harder as he said solemnly, “Bar fight.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I got the scar in a bar fight.”
“Oh,” she hesitated, “really?”
“No, not really. I’m an accountant, we tend to avoid bar fights.”
She blushed again and he grinned. “I just say that to improve my street cred. In reality, it was back in university. My then-girlfriend and I decided to celebrate the end of mid-terms with some champagne. I’d never opened a bottle of champagne before but didn’t want to appear less than manly in front of her, so I manhandled it open. Unfortunately I was a little too rough with it and when the cork flew off, it shattered the top of the bottle and I was nicked with a small piece of flying glass.”
She glanced at the scar again. “A small piece of glass gave you that big of a scar?”
“Nah, it just nicked me. I got the scar when I saw the drop of blood fall from my face to the floor, fainted, and slammed my face against the corner of the coffee table.”
She laughed. “You fainted?”
“Yep. I see even the smallest amount of my own blood and I’m down.”
She laughed again. “I’m sorry, it’s rude of me to laugh. It’s just, you’re so big and tough looking.”
“I know, right? It’s really embarrassing. Promise you won’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” she said. “So you had to go to the hospital for stitches?”
“Yes. My girlfriend freaked out when I fainted and called 9-1-1. Of course, my face was covered in blood – you’d be amazed at how much your face bleeds when you smash face-first into a coffee table - so I can’t really blame her. She broke up with me about a week later. She swore it wasn’t because of the fainting but between you and me – I’m pretty certain she was lying. No one wants to date the guy who faints at the sight of blood. It’s probably why I’m still single.”
She bit back her sudden urge to tell him she was single too. Mostly because she didn’t really know if she was or not. She sighed softly. She really needed to talk to Lucy about what was happening but she knew what Lucy would say and she guessed that she really didn’t want to hear it. She was being an idiot, she knew she was, but you couldn’t help who you fell in love with. Even if he could be the biggest asshole on the planet occasionally.
Occasionally? It’s more than occasionally and you know it. Just because he’s acting different right now doesn’t mean shit. Sooner or later the real –
She shut down her inner voice again, a grimace crossing her face, as Max gave her a curious look. “You okay?”
She nodded and he studied her for a moment longer as her period reminded her of its existence and sent another throbbing cramp through her lower belly. She tried not to wince and must have succeeded because he closed his eyes again and relaxed in the chair. She rinsed his hair quickly before using a towel to blot it dry.
“All done. Sit up for me, please.”
He sat straight and she scrubbed the towel over his head again before indicating for him to follow her to her station.
Max studied Amanda’s ass as she led him to her salon chair. The woman was downright gorgeous with her long blonde hair and slender body. When he had opened his eyes and seen her face so close to his, her hazel eyes studying him carefully and her soft breasts pressed against his shoulder, he had damn near gotten an erection. Christ, did she smell good. Something flowery and light that made him think of warm summer days.
She moved the broom and shook the cape out. “Did you want to take off your suit jacket? If hairs get into the collar, it’ll be super itchy.”
He unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged out of it, setting it on the chair next to hers. Her low voice did things to his insides, delicious things that brought forth images of silk sheets, naked flesh and her crying his name.
His dick stirred and his eyes dropped to her chest. She was wearing a plain white t-shirt with a V-neck and he could see just a hint of her cleavage. She wasn’t overflowing in the chest department but they would probably be the perfect handful in his large mitt.
“Uh, have a seat,” she said quietly.
He realized he had been caught staring at her tits and he cursed inwardly at his lack of self-control before sitting down. The chair creaked alarmingly but held his weight and she draped the cape over his chest.
“You have a tattoo.” Her hands had paused in fastening the cape around his neck and she briefly touched the back of his left shoulder through his white dress shirt.
He nodded. “Another university first.”
“But how? If you’re afraid of blood, how did you get a tattoo?” She asked curiously.
“I couldn’t see the blood so I was fine,” he replied.
“What is it?” She was leaning down, squinting at the tattoo and the scent of her shampoo drifted to him.
“It’s a lion.”
“Nice. Any particular reason for getting a lion?” She asked as she straightened and finished fastening the cape.
“It’s my spirit animal,” he said solemnly.
Her hands, which were running through his hair, faltered and she stared at him in the mirror. “Spirit animal?”
He laughed and she smiled, her lip catching on that delightfully crooked eye-tooth before she ran the tip of her tongue over it. He wanted to run his tongue over that tooth, wanted to hear the soft moan she would make when he slid his tongue past it and into the warmth of her mouth.
“Tell the truth, please.”
“Honestly, I can’t remember why I got the lion tattoo but in my defense I was super high at the time.”
She laughed. “I didn’t take you for a weed-smoking hippie.”
“Technically I was a brownie-eating hippie,” he said.
She laughed again and he curled his hands into fists to stop from reaching out and brushing his fingers across her cheek. God but did her skin look soft.
“So, how much do you want taken off?” Her hands were still threading through his hair and it felt amazing.
“I like it fairly short,” he said.
“Sounds good.” She smiled at him and reached for the scissors.
* * *
“Well, what do you think?” Amanda stared a bit apprehensively at Max.
“I love it.” He gave her a broad grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and warmth infused her belly.
“Good. You have great hair, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
She unfastened the cape and shook it out as he stood. She helped him into his suit jacket, resisting the urge to smooth her hands over that impossibly broad back and smiled cheerfully at him when he followed her to the reception desk. She rang it through the cash register, he gave her a generous tip, and walked him to the door.
He studied the empty salon. “Are you here all alone?”
She nodded. “You were my last appointment for the day and I sent our receptionist home earlier.”
A small frown crossed his face before he checked his watch. “It’s pretty late.”
“It’s fine. I’m not parked that far away and it won’t take me long to close up.”
“I’ll wait and walk you to your car.” He sat down in the armchair in the waiting area and smiled at her.
“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” she protested. “I’m sure you want to get home and – “
“I don’t mind,” he interrupted.
She hesitated before nodding. “Alright, well, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Entirely too conscious of his gaze, she hurried through the closing duties before snagging her jacket from the back room. She took a moment to stare at her reflection in the mirror in the washroom. She looked a bit pale and washed out - her stomach was still cramping like a bitch – and she pinched her cheeks to bring a bit of colour to them before stepping out into the salon.
Max was still sitting patiently in the waiting area and she snagged her purse from under the reception desk. “I’m ready to go.”
He stepped into the cool night air and she punched in the alarm code before joining him outside. She locked the door and dropped the keys into her purse. “I’m just parked over there.”
He held out his arm and after a moment’s hesitation she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. It brought warmth and a peculiar feeling of security to walk next to him and she smiled up at him.
“Thank you again for waiting. That’s very nice of you.”
“You’re welcome, Amanda.”
They were already at her car, for a brief moment she wished that she had parked at the far end of the lot, and she unlocked the door. “Okay, well, goodnight then.”
“Amanda?” His hand caught her arm before she could slide into her car.
“Yes?”
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
She blinked at his straight-forwardness. “Oh, um, I…”
“I’m a nice guy.” He smiled at her. “You can ask Lucy. She’ll vouch for me.”
Say yes! Her mind screamed at her.
Shut it! Have you forgotten about Jamie?
Screw Jamie! Better yet – screw Max! Pretty please?
“Amanda?” Max’s hand touched her arm and she cleared her throat.
“I’m sorry, Max. I’d better not.”
“Why not?” He asked.
She stared at him and he gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’m pretty blunt. I just – I thought maybe we had a connection.”
“We don’t. I’m sorry,” she said.
A look of disappointment flickered across his face before he smiled at her. “Fair enough. It was nice to meet you, Amanda.”
“Nice to meet you too, Max. Thanks again for waiting and walking me to my car.”
“You’re welcome.”
He waited until she had climbed into her car and locked the doors before walking briskly across the parking lot to his own vehicle.
You suck, her mind said sulkily.
She sighed and drove toward home. She had done the right thing. There was no point in going for dinner with Max when her heart belonged to Jamie.
* * *
She was soaking in the tub when his text arrived. She had brought her cell phone with her solely because of that possibility and, her heart thumping loudly, Amanda scanned his text eagerly.
Hey hottie, what u up to?
Smiling happily, she returned his text eagerly.
Soaking in a hot bath. How is New York?
She waited, her smile fading when he didn’t text back immediately. God, what was she doing? Jamie was like a drug that she couldn’t fucking kick. The man had moved to New York four months ago after dumping her and breaking her heart, but here she was – waiting like a pathetic teenage girl for a text. She should never have –
Her phone dinged and a little rush of happiness flooded through her.
Send me a pic. I wanna see those luscious tits.
She bit indecisively at her bottom lip as he texted her again.
C’mon baby – I need to see yur tits. I miss them.
She lay back in the tub, angled the phone over her chest and snapped a picture. She studied it carefully, cropping out the bit of her lower face that was visible and adding a filter.
You know, the small part of her that didn’t seem to be controlled by her love for Jamie, spoke up quietly, Max wouldn’t ask you for a tit pic to add to his spank bank collection.
She ignored it grimly and sent the picture. She waited for his response, growing more and more nervous when there was no reply. Being nervous was ridiculous, Jamie had seen her boobs hundreds of times but she could feel it seeping through her anyway.
After half an hour, the bath water cooling and her unease growing, she texted him.
Jamie? Are you still there?
While she waited for his reply, she climbed out of the tub and dried off her shivering body before finishing the last of her wine and sliding into bed. She stared fixedly at her phone, sighing with relief when the text came.
Sorry baby. I’m still here. Send me more pics.
Not tonight. Already in bed.
Wish I was there with u. Miss u.
Relief washed over her.
I miss you too. Why don’t you call me and we’ll chat for a bit?
She waited, holding her cell phone in a tense grip, for his reply. Her eyes widened, the hopeful smile disappearing when the picture arrived. Her hands turned to ice and she bit back her soft moan of dismay.
The picture was a selfie of Jamie. He was in bed with a woman, his mouth sucking obscenely at one large breast as the woman arched her back and smiled into the camera.
U need to come by, baby. Here’s a pic of last night to remind u of what yur missing.
Her hands shaking so violently she could barely type, she texted him back.
Wrong number, asshole.
She tossed her phone on the bed as hot tears leaked down her face. Her phone rang and, biting back her bitter sobs, she hit the answer button and waited silently.
“Amanda? Baby?”
“You asshole, Jamie,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “Baby, it was an accident and – “
“Fucking another woman was an accident or sending me proof was an accident?” She asked.
“Baby, you know it’s you that I love,” Jamie said pleadingly. “I just – I was feeling lonely last night and that girl, she took advantage of it. I miss you so much.”
She laughed bitterly. “Right. You miss me so much you just had to ask her to come back for another round tonight.”
“Your picture got me all revved up, baby. I just needed to release a little tension. She doesn’t mean anything to me. Come to New York and I’ll show you how much I love you. Please, Amanda. I want a second chance.”
“Have you gone insane?” She asked. “You honestly think I’m going to hop on a flight to New York after what you just sent me?”
“I told you – she doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“Oh my God, I am such an idiot. I really thought you had changed, you know that?” Tears were flowing freely now and she swiped them away angrily. “I thought that you were actually sorry for what you had done and that you wanted to make it work this time.”
“I do! Amanda, I swear I do. I just – I have needs, baby. You know I need a lot of sex. Being so far away from you is really difficult,” Jamie said.
“Unfucking believable,” she said. “You really are the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.”
“I’m an asshole?” Anger was starting to creep into his voice. “Fine, maybe I’m an asshole but at least I’m not a controlling little bitch who can’t tell the difference between loving someone and smothering them.”
She winced, feeling ridiculously guilty, as Jamie continued. “I thought you had changed, Amanda. I thought you understood that I’m not the type of guy who’s going to sit back and let their woman dictate how they’re going to run their life. I only cheated on you because you were so goddamn smothering I couldn’t take it anymore. If you had given me some fucking breathing room, just trusted that I would be faithful and stopped being so goddamn clingy, I wouldn’t have cheated. You think I’m the one with the problem but you’re wrong. You’re way more fucked up than I’ll ever be, sweetheart. You know why you’re nearly thirty and still single? Because you have no fucking idea how to be in a relationship. Expecting a guy to be at your beck and call 24/7 is seriously fucked up. You need fucking therapy.”
Nausea was rolling through her stomach now. Jamie knew her so well, knew every fear and worry that plagued her, and she hated that he could use it so easily against her.
“Fuck you, Jamie. Don’t call me again.”
“Fine by me, sweetheart. I don’t need you or your fucking neuroses in my life. You’re not pretty or smart enough to make it worth my – “
She hung up on him, her entire body shaking and her stomach throbbing, before setting her phone carefully on the nightstand. She stared silently at it for a moment before curling up in her cold bed and sobbing bitterly.