The Gamble (Colorado Mountain #1)(159)

“Oh, so now that I’m right and you’re wrong, we’re done talking about this?”

“Nina –”

I shook my head and lifted up my hand, still shouting, “No, no way. Proud and stubborn. That’s you. I come here, I slot into your life. We don’t build one together.”

He took a step toward me and I took two quick ones back as he clipped, “God dammit, Nina.”

“I’m glad I know this now, Max, this is good to know,” I snapped and then I heard a rap on the door and my head twisted in that direction. From my position in the loft I couldn’t see who it was but I suspected it was my mother or, if the turn of my morning luck held true, it was my father and Niles, so I instantly marched in the direction of the stairs announcing, “I’ll get it.”

“Leave it, Duchess,” Max growled, catching my wrist but I twisted it free, not looking at him.

“Go to hell, Max,” I bit off and marched to the stairs and down quickly, my mind in turmoil, my heart beating too fast, tears threatening, hope dying and that was the worst. It always was the worst when hope died.

I made it to the bottom of the stairs and I knew Max was close behind. I took two steps to the door, belatedly focused on it and stopped dead.

Standing outside the door, the sun blazing on a new blanket of white coating the front steps, were Kami, Shauna and an older woman who looked like Kami. Her hair was a beautiful, silvery white streaked with Max and Kami’s almost-black and pulled back in a ponytail. She, like Kami, held extra weight but not as much as Kami and, even at a glance, I could tell she wasn’t uncomfortable with it on her frame. She was attractive and wearing the mountain woman uniform of jeans, poofy vest, long-sleeved shirt and boots.

Max’s mother.

Wonderful.

I also took in the fact that both Kami and Shauna were smirking, though Max’s mother was studying me through the glass, her face unreadable.

They’d heard.

Double wonderful. Darn it all to hell.

Max stalked passed me straight to the door which he yanked open.

“Now is not a good time,” he announced on an angry snarl, barring entry with his big body.

“Yeah, we heard,” Kami told him gleefully.

Yes, gleefully. She was such a bitch.

Then she forced her way in, scooting in between Max and the doorframe. “It’s cold, Max, and we need coffee.”

With Kami already inside and with no other choice but to throw her out physically which, in my state of mind, was a viable option, Max stepped aside for his mother to enter and Shauna gave him a sweet, satisfied smile, swinging that same smile to me as she came in too.

Shauna. In Max’s house.

Seeing her smile pinned on me while she stood inside Max’s door, I felt the pressure build and I stayed utterly still so as not to let it explode.

“You’re Nina,” Max’s Mom said and I started then looked to her.

Then I forced myself to walk stiffly toward her (yes, meeting Max’s Mom wearing nothing but Max’s thermal and a pair of panties after just having been heard having a fight).

I also tried to force my voice to be kind but I only managed neutral. “Yes, and you’re Max’s Mom.”

“Linda,” she said on a nod and lifted her hand.

I took it. Unlike her daughter, her fingers curled around mine in a warm grip before she let go.

“Lovely to meet you,” I murmured.

She watched me and I saw something flash in her dark brown eyes, a twinkle, then she doused it so quickly I was uncertain it was ever there.

She looked at Max and suggested, “Why don’t you two get dressed? I’ll make coffee.”

“Like I said, Mom, this isn’t a good time,” Max told her.

“Dressed, Max,” Linda ordered and then she walked toward the kitchen.

Still smirking, Shauna and Kami followed.

I decided to take this opportunity to escape which I did without looking at Max. I ran up the stairs and I didn’t care what it looked like.

I was in the closet, my cords in my hands, my mind skittering from awful thought (meeting Max’s Mom during a fight) to terrible thought (Shauna and Kami being there) to horrendous thought (Max and me being over) when Max came in.

My intention was to ignore him, an impossible task when he grabbed my cords, tossed them on the floor and then his fingers curled into my hips.

I tilted my head back to look at him and tried to yank my h*ps from his hands but failed at this when his arms locked around me. One hand sifted up into my hair and cupped the back of my head.

“Take your hands off me, Max,” I hissed quietly.

“Shut it, Duchess,” Max whispered back and then his mouth was on mine.

The kiss was hard, long and closed-mouthed, communicating something I didn’t get. I pressed against his hold and his shoulders while he kissed me but didn’t succeed in getting away or yanking my mouth from his.

He lifted his head and I stopped struggling in order to glare at him. His eyes moved over my face. Then his arm at my waist drifted down to become a hand on my behind then it slid up, taking the thermal with it.

Before I could protest what his hand was doing, he whispered, “You were right, honey.”

With my history with men, most specifically Niles who never listened to me, I found I was unable to process his words.