The Gamble (Colorado Mountain #1)(93)
I twisted my head back to him and used my words as an accusation, a loud one, a loud one that bounced around the cab. “You’re moving too fast!”
“Found somethin’ I want, don’t tend to f**k around when that happens, Duchess. Ever.”
Although his words made my belly feel kind of squishy in a good way, my mind reminded me he was annoying.
“Perhaps, Macho Mountain Man Max, you’ll give me a second to breathe and get my head sorted before I decide to turn my life on a dime. Or would that be asking too much?” I queried sarcastically.
“You don’t wanna breathe, babe, you wanna find time to repair your shield to hold me back. Since I’m guessin’ I got in more than your pants today the answer is, yeah, that’s askin’ too much.”
I yanked at my hand, again to no avail, gave up and snapped, “God, you’re so annoying.”
“You fight with Niles?” Max asked suddenly.
“No.”
“Never?”
“No! And stop asking about Niles,” I demanded.
He ignored my demand and kept questioning. “Didn’t care enough to fight, didn’t match you in fire or was so lazy, he just put up with your shit?”
My head shook back and forth, short, angry shakes.
Then I repeated, “My shit?”
“Yeah, babe, your shit.”
I crossed my one free arm on my chest, it wasn’t much but I suspected it made somewhat of a statement, and declared, “I’m not talking about this.”
“That’s what I thought,” Max said, not sounding annoyed anymore but amused. “All of ‘em, didn’t care, no fire and lazy as hell.”
I looked out the passenger side window unable to retort since he was correct, on all counts.
“Poor Nina,” Max muttered, lifting my hand in his and I felt his lips against my knuckles before he dropped it back to his thigh and he finished, still muttering, “you must have been bored outta your f**kin’ brain.”
I turned to look at him and announced, “Regardless of the fact that Brody has been your friend since childhood and you undoubtedly wish for me to make a good impression, I’m giving you fair warning that I am, as of now, officially no longer speaking to you.”
This made him burst out laughing. I turned my head away and commenced fuming.
His hand gave mine another squeeze and he said, “Have at it, Duchess, Brody got you the minute you put your arms around Mindy this afternoon. You could probably set fire to the Cherokee in The Rooster’s parking lot and Brody’d still like you.”
“Don’t give me any ideas,” I muttered.
“Thought you weren’t speakin’ to me.”
I clamped my mouth shut, tried once more to yank my hand from his, failed, gave up and continued fuming while Max chuckled thinking all this was hilarious.
So.
Annoying.
* * * * *
The Rooster was an enormous, beautiful building set high on the side of a mountain, a twisting, windy road leading to it. It’s inside lights ablaze, it had so many windows you could see through it.
I had, during the journey, managed to stay true to my vow and didn’t speak to Max. For his part, he proved a new way he could be annoying for this didn’t appear to bother him in the slightest. In fact, after five minutes of silence, he let my hand go and turned on his MP3 player, filling the cab with seventies rock music. Good seventies rock music and I noted irately that Max even had good taste in music something else I decided to find annoying.
I had, of course, taken this opportunity to pull my hand away.
To that, Max had, of course, grabbed my elbow, yanked my arm to him, trailed his hand down it until he caught mine and pulled it right back.
I didn’t fight this. Max was stronger than me and it would just be humiliating when I lost.
Now he had no choice but to let me go in order to park and once the ignition was switched off I unbuckled my seatbelt, opened the door and jumped down. I then started marching toward the front door of the restaurant as fast as my high-heeled sandals would carry me.
My swift progress was hindered when Max’s arm came around my shoulders and he hauled me into his side with such force I slammed against his hard body, my arm automatically wrapped around his waist and, for comfort’s sake (I told myself), stayed there. I made no protest and Max said no words. Thus we walked the rest of the way together.
He opened the door for me and I saw the inside was not just windows but also gleaming, light wood; super high ceilings; some well-chosen Cotton prints; some antlers; a lot of comfortable looking booths both big and small; and not a lot of tables but the chairs weren’t restaurant chairs, they were cozy, high-backed armchairs, inviting you to stay awhile.
I decided I liked this place when I spied Mindy and Brody and started to smile but Max stopped us, his arm curled me toward his front and his mouth went to my ear.
“Somethin’ you should know, Duchess.”
I yanked my head back, Max lifted his and I glared at him silently.
He scanned my face, looked into my eyes and grinned then continued, “When I met you, my first thought was you were very pretty, great f**kin’ eyes, but not my type, high class which means high maintenance. Then you got pissed and that was it. Even if you hadn’t been in that ditch, now you’d still be in my bed. So if you think this attitude is a turn off, baby, you’re wrong.”