“That really sucks.”
“And it’s the reason I never wanted a family.”
He hummed. “Does Ida Jane know that?”
I shrugged. “She hasn’t seemed interested in a child. You remember how she lunged at Dillon for suggesting she’d want kids out front of the restaurant.” Dammit. Now, I was thinking about Dillon again.
Cruz turned quiet again, but as we settled at the table, his expression was serious. “You need to let her know where you stand on a family. That’s a big fucking deal for people. It broke up Cormac and his first wife.”
I ignored the uneasiness that had been building in my chest since Dillon appeared at the hockey game.
Chapter19
Ida Jane
It was a Friday night in late March, and I was getting ready for the children’s charities gala. My life had taken such a strange turn. I now attendedgalasthat raised money for the type of program I worked for. And had a driver for the days when Maxim was out of town or couldn’t take me to or from work. He was teaching me how to drive, but I still didn’t enjoy the process and made silly errors that had nearly caused me to smash his brand-new SUV into a tree…in an empty parking lot. Not my best moment.
My life was surreal, and I loved it, because I got to spend my days with Maxim. Who knew the taciturn D-man would be such a softie? With me, he talked often, expressing his thoughts and opinions. I learned that he loved mysteries but struggled to read them in English. He preferred to work out in the evenings, and he shied away from most American junk food, shocked by its strange, unnatural colors.
He loved movies—any movie—and would happily settle in to watch a romantic comedy as he did a sports movie or an action flick. He rarely drank coffee, but if he did, it was laced with copious amounts of milk, which he said was good protein.
And he made me happy.Veryhappy. I’d had more orgasms in the first week in Maxim’s bed than in the entirety of my life. But more importantly, he listened to me, he respected my work and my time, and he made me feel important. Loved.
I’d fallen hard for the frugal, growly man with a big heart, and he seemed as enamored with me. I just wanted to make sure he felt pride when I was on his arm tonight, not just thankfulness that I’d solved his immigration issues.
I wanted Maxim to remain my husband. I craved the family my mother mentioned the night before our wedding. The idea of a child with Maxim excited me.
I closed my eyes and breathed through my nose. I wanted it all—the happily-ever-after I hadn’t allowed myself to think about since I found out Dillon was cheating. But, because of my experience with Dillon, I remained too afraid to ask Maxim if he wanted the same. I needed to get over that—be honest with him. More than likely, we were on the same page.
To my embarrassment, I continued to remain quiet about my feelings, hoping he’d tell me he loved me so I could throw my arms around his neck, kiss him silly, and repeat the words back. Because I was afraid to say the words first. What if he didn’t feel the same?
What if he didn’t want me forever?
Dillon hadn’t.
No, no. Maxim cared for me, deeply. I knew he did. And once he said the words, I’d show him how much he meant to me. Ida Jane with a high sex drive was new, but this version of me was used to getting off whenever my sexy husband was home, and I definitely didn’t want that to end.
“You ready?” Maxim called from the other side of the closet door. I’d fixed my hair and makeup before heading into the closet to slip into my dress.
I wore a teal velvet sheath with an asymmetrical hem that slid from mid-thigh on the right down to my ankle on the left. I’d paired the dress with some flashy Jimmy Choos—way outside an art therapist’s budget, but a big splurge I’d made for Maxim’s gala appearance. My hair was down and clipped to the side a la Veronica Lake, but I didn’t wear red lipstick—still couldn’t stand how that stuff felt—so I’d coated my lips with a bit of lip stain that claimed it would last all day.
“Keelie’s right. I look kick-ass in this dress.”
“Better than kick ass,” Maxim rumbled from the doorway.
I turned to face him, eyes widening as I noted the enormous bouquet he held. It had to be fifteen hydrangeas, from white to pale pink to indigo. He bought me flowers and other little gifts every week, even though I told him I didn’t need them.
He said he liked spoiling me. Well, I was getting very spoiled.
“Oh, they’re beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.” He strode forward and tugged me to his side, slamming his lips to mine. There went my lip stain. And the flowers. But I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back.
The man made me crazy, made me burn. Made me so damn horny I could barely think straight.
“The gala.”
“Yes, we’ll go. After I do this.”
