• • •
Max was enjoying himself. He often ate dinner with Michael and Maggie, and many times they were joined by Alexa and Nick. Comfortable hours filled with laughter and wine and relaxing reminded him of the endless evenings he spent with the Conte family in Bergamo. Mama Conte and his mother had grown up together and were friends as young girls, so when his father took off, Mama Conte adopted him and his mother into her own family. He always felt like a cousin rather than a good friend.
An itch crept up his spine. Oddly, he had more money than Michael but never wanted a penny of it—not unless it was earned by his own blood and sweat. Like a business transaction, his rich Swiss father swooped in and seduced the local Italian girl. They married quickly, and when the baby arrived, he deposited a nice fat check in her bank account. Then left for good. Max had never met his father, but his money garnered interest over the years. With no extended relatives, his mother needed the funds to survive, but Max choked on it and couldn’t wait to earn his own way. He didn’t want anything from a man who laid eyes on his newborn son and left without a glance back. A man who humiliated his mother in an old-fashioned Catholic town and forced them to wear the stain of abandonment and divorce.
No, Max didn’t care. He just swore to never bring shame on his mother or ever run away from responsibility. The sins of the father would not carry to the son.
He’d make sure of it.
Max freshened up his glass of Chianti, grabbed a piece of bruschetta, and turned.
Holy hell.
She came down the elaborate stairway with nonchalant grace, an easy smile, and a killer body wrapped up in fiery red. He’d never seen her in red before, let alone a dress. He’d only seen her in baggy clothes and T-shirts, her natural curves always hidden from view.
Not anymore. The scoop neck emphasized the lushness of her breasts and the curve of her hips. Her dark curly hair fell around her shoulders and down her back, begging for a man’s fingers to thrust deep and disappear. Her lips were painted scarlet red, setting off the inky depth of her eyes.
She stopped in front of him, and the words of greeting died in his throat. He was so used to her looks of open longing. He realized she had a tiny crush on him years back. He’d always thought it cute, and quite flattering. Now, he held a sinking feeling she’d come into her own magical powers. Max had taken her flattering words, protectiveness, and admiring gaze for granted. Now, she treated him the same as the others. A sinking disappointment grabbed at his chest, but he firmly shook it off.
“Hey,” he said. Halfway embarrassed by the lame word, he reminded himself she was like his sister and that his last girlfriend had been actual royalty. “Can I get you some wine?”
“Absolutely. Chianti?” She pointed to his glass, and one curl slipped over her forehead and into her eye. The clean scent of cucumber rose to his nostrils, somehow more intoxicating than fake perfumes.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Perfect.”
He busied himself with getting her a glass and held it out.
“Thanks.”
Her fingers brushed his as she took the glass, and he swore he almost jerked back. The tiny buzz was subtle but still present. Exactly what he didn’t need. He shook his head hard and refocused.
“Let me know if you have any questions about the area. I’d be happy to show you around.”
She sipped her wine and half closed her eyes in pleasure. “Hmm, there’s one thing I need above all else.”
“What?”
“A gym. Can you recommend one?”
“Michael installed a full facility at the company. I’ll show you tomorrow. I usually work out in the early morning if you ever want to join me.” Her gaze flicked over his body as if assessing his muscle structure. He grinned. “Want me to flex?”
The old Carina would have blushed. This one pursed her lips and pondered. “Maybe.”
“Brat.” He raised a brow. “You always hated working out.”
“Still do. But I love to eat, and I have a weight problem. Exercising balances both.”
Max frowned. “You don’t have a weight problem.”
She sighed. “Trust me, when most clothes are made for tall, leggy women with no hips, you have a weight problem.”
Irritation prickled his nerve endings. “That’s stupid. You have an actual ass and breasts. That’s the kind of weight a man looks for.”
He almost gasped when the words came out of his mouth. Conversations with Carina never included body parts, and heat actually tinged his cheeks. What the hell was he doing?
But she didn’t look embarrassed. In fact, she laughed out loud and clicked her glass with his. “Well said, Max. But I still may take you up on that offer. How’s Rocky?”
A faint smile curved his lips. “Great. He’s completely healed and turned into a lapdog. Kind of embarrassing. I’ve never met a pit bull who’s disinterested in any stranger unless they rubbed his belly.”
Her almond-shaped eyes softened. Her family deemed Carina “the animal whisperer” for her ability to communicate with any animal. After he rescued Rocky from the fighting pit, the first call he made was to Carina. She told him exactly how to handle and treat the abused pit bull, and they had worked as a long-distance team to heal his battered soul. “I can’t wait to finally meet him in person,” she said. “Photos aren’t the same.”
The image of Carina in his home and with his dog settled over him. It was odd how much he looked forward to seeing her on his own turf. He usually hated bringing women to his house and tried to avoid the trap by going to theirs. Carina took a sip of her wine and startled him with a bold question.
“How’s your love life? Who’s the flavor of the month?”
He shifted his feet. “No one special.”
“Didn’t you turn thirty a while ago?”
“What does that have to with anything?” he asked. He hated the defensiveness to his tone. “I’m only thirty-four.”
She shrugged. “Just wondered if you had interest in settling down, having a family. Like them.”
The two couples stood close together, deep in conversation. Nick’s hand rested on the side of Alexa’s belly, and Michael bent his head to whisper something in his wife’s ear. The air of close intimacy and joy shimmered around the tight circle and left Max with a hole in his gut. Sure, he wanted that. Who wouldn’t? But no woman had made him want to give up his freedom and commit to her forever. He swore he’d be single for life unless he was absolutely one hundred percent sure. He’d never walk away from his wife and family like his father. He’d never abandon someone who needed him. Therefore, he didn’t have the luxury of making any errors within his relationships. The moment a woman wanted to stay in his bed for too long, or invited him to family functions, he took a long hard look at the relationship. If there wasn’t enough feeling, he moved on.
Unfortunately, he’d been moving on for years now with no permanent relationship in his past.
“One day,” he said. “When I meet the right one.”
“Your mama is getting nervous,” she teased. “I think she’s starting to say extra rosaries with Father Richard, praying that you’re not gay.”
He choked on the sip of wine. Who was this woman? Her mischievous expression made him want to challenge her. “Oh, is that so? And do you think I’m gay?”