The Gamble (Colorado Mountain #1)(14)

I stood staring at the space he used to be in then, when I heard the front door open, I ran to the railing.

“Max!” I shouted.

“Later, Duchess,” he called, a hand up, two fingers flicking out, he didn’t even look back.

Becca looked back though, and up. She gave me a wince-I’m-sorry-face and a finger wave and I knew she heard everything. I’d totally forgotten she was there.

Then I watched Max throw his now black leather jacketed arm around her shoulders and I wondered who Becca was and what she was to Max who was just upstairs, semi-fighting with me and also, if I wasn’t wrong, and I didn’t think I was, flirting with me in a rough, macho, mountain man kind of way

They talked for a few seconds at the side of her car then they separated. Becca got in her sporty, red, mini-SUV. Max got in his black Cherokee. They both drove away.

I looked down at the bottom floor and saw my cranberry juice, my coffee and my untouched oatmeal all sitting on the bar.

Then I looked out the window at the wilderness.

The internet advertisement for the A-Frame said it was fifteen miles away from the nearest town, secluded, quiet, the perfect holiday destination for a calm, relaxing, peaceful getaway.

The Nightmare Holiday Destination if you had to walk fifteen miles to town carrying a suitcase, an overnight bag, a purse and a shitload of groceries.

Tackle a problem prepared, Charlie advised in my head and I nodded like he was there with me.

Then I walked downstairs, heated up my oatmeal, warmed up my coffee and sat at the stool, preparing to tackle my problem.

Chapter Three

Buffalo Burgers

After I ate, I did my dishes, Max’s dishes, wiped down the counters, found the extra sheets in the closet and made the bed. Then I found the utility room around the corner from the recess in the living room. The dirty sheets were on the floor. As the advertisement said, washer and drier but also a bunch of man stuff that needed to be organized.

I let that stuff be. I put the sheets in the washer.

I packed my bags and decided that Max could have the groceries. He and Becca and the unknown Mindy could have a party. I didn’t care. I was out of there.

Then I poured myself another cup of coffee and found the phonebook. It was thin; I’d never seen a phonebook so thin.

I realized why it was thin when I looked up taxi companies. There was only one. But one was enough.

I went to Max’s phone, pulled it out of the receiver and punched in the number.

“Thrifty’s,” a woman answered.

“Hello, my name is Ms. Sheridan and I need a taxi to town.”

There was a pause and then, “Nina?”

My body jolted and then I froze with the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” the voice called.

“Um… yes?”

“This Nina?”

“How do you know who I am?”

“Welp, Max called, said a lady with a fancy accent by the name of Nina would call, askin’ for a taxi. You’re a lady with a fancy accent and you’re askin’ for a taxi. Get some of those callin’ with British accents, not a lot. So I’m takin’ a wild guess. You Nina?”

I wondered if I could make it to Denver then to England before anyone discovered Max’s body. Then I wondered if anyone would bother with extradition if they figured out it was me who did the deed. That was a lot of paperwork for one big, tall, domineering, jerky mountain man. Then I wondered, considering Max was so tall and big, how I’d kill him.

Then I decided, poison.

Then I answered, “Yes, I’m Nina.”

“Max said you been down with flu, girl, you need to rest,” the woman advised me.

“I thought I’d check into a hotel room in town.”

She hooted in my ear but said no actual words.

“What?” I asked.

“Girl, Holden Maxwell quarantined me to his house and he was in it, I wouldn’t go lookin’ for no hotel room.”

I felt my brows draw together. “Who’s Holden Maxwell?”

“Who’s Holden Maxwell?” she repeated.

“Yes. Who’s Holden Maxwell?”

“Girl, you’re livin’ with him.”

His name was Holden? What kind of name was that? No wonder he called himself Max.

I decided not to ask about the origins of Max’s name or explain the fact that I was not living with him and told her, “Well, he isn’t actually here, so I’m quarantined alone.”

“Oh, he’ll be back.”

I didn’t doubt that.

“Since you probably know where he lives, will you please send a taxi?” I asked.

“Nope,” she answered.

I was silent a beat, mostly shock, a little anger then I repeated, “Nope?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause Max says you need to rest.”

Yes, definitely poison.

“I’ll pay double.”

“You still gotta rest.”

I was seeing red again, I ignored it and offered, “I’ll pay triple.”

“Triple shmiple. You gotta rest.”

“Listen –”

“Come into town with Max when you’ve recovered. I’ll buy you a beer.”

Did she just tell me she’d buy me a beer? How did we get from me ordering a taxi to her buying me a beer?