Surprise widened Max’s eyes. “Er, yeah…” He hunkered down, his blond head lowered, but I heard the whispered words, the desolation in them as he put the adhesive strip over Peter’s injury. “I only hope your life’s better.”
I stared at him, stunned. What had happened to him?
“And this one?” Small fingers touched Max’s bisected eyebrow.
His muscular shoulders tensed. Pain clouded his eyes. He looked vulnerable for a second, and then the walls came up. “An accident.”
“You fell again?”
“No, a car accident. Right, then, little guy—” Max rose.
“Me, me.” Iris grabbed Max’s hand, pointing to her knee. “Sore.”
Smiling, Max got another Band-Aid and gently taped it to her unblemished knee.
Witnessing his interaction with the children, it was like he’d allowed me to peek inside him for a brief moment. Despite whatever troubled him, he cared.
“Did you somehow see this moment and come prepared?” I teased, nodding at the Band-Aid, and trying to get my mind off how this side of him made my insides melt.
A smile. “No, a volunteer in Peru gave me a few, which I’d forgotten about until now.”
“I want one like yours,” Peter said, angling his head and peering at the tattoo on Max’s calf.
Laughter burst free. “Oh, man, you’re in so much trouble with Sandra. Peter’s going to hound her for a tatt.”
Max pushed the leg of his sweats down. “I’ll pay for the boy’s ink.”
“Don’t you dare—” I broke off at the teasing smile on his handsome face. Scrunched my nose. “You’re so bad.”
“You have no idea…” His gaze dipped to my mouth. “I can show you just how good I am at being…bad.”
At the sensual promise, I hastily shifted my attention to Peter, trying not to let Max’s words conjure up images of his big, hard body sliding against mine—ugh!Focus, Ila!
Peter was staring at Max as if he were the next best thing since Legos, his current passion. Iris was happily pushing the empty swing. I brushed back Peter’s fair hair. “Can you stand, sweetie?”
Max helped him up. Seeming to have forgotten his wounded knee, Peter ran back to the swing.
As I rose to my feet, Peter yelled, “Max, push me.”
“Sure, buddy.” He strode over, assisted him onto the swing, and then gently pushed him. I picked up Iris, no longer trusting the swing, and set her on the slide. Questions about Max rebounded in my head.
Something about the accident had affected him profoundly, because, for a brief moment, I saw the deep anguish in his eyes. And it tugged at me. Much as I wanted to know more, I didn’t want to pry. God knew I had my own demons haunting me, and it wasn’t something I would ever voluntarily talk about.
“Logan?”
I glanced at Max as he continued pushing a chortling Peter.
“Since Ray okayed me staying for a while, bill me. I’ll be paying rent.”
Much as I would have liked to say yes, the extra money would help, but for sleeping on my lumpy couch? Worse…yes it wasworsefor me, because then I’d have to see him daily. I inhaled sharply at the thought.
“Why so quiet?” he drawled. A wicked twinkle lit his gaze, one I was learning not to trust. “It’s not like I said I wanted to strip you naked and lick you from your sweet, sexy mouth to the heaven between your thighs—make no mistake, Logan, I want you, but I’m willing to wait. So, bill me, or I’ll just hand the money over to Ray.”
I stared at him, my body suddenly too warm, I seemed to have lost my speech capabilities as images of his mouth on me, plagued me. I must have nodded, because he smiled and turned back to Peter.
I inhaled a deep, shaky breath as I picked Iris up and set her on the slide again. Honestly, I had no idea how to react to Max, and felt like a gauche schoolgirl. Devyn didn’t flirt or have wicked banter rolling off his tongue. He was more the serious type.
An hour later, Max thankfully hadn’t said anything else to cause my faithless body to wave a flag in surrender. We walked back to the apartment, eating ice cream—Max’s treat. Iris’ tiny green tee was a mess, smeared with the chocolatey, creamy confection. Peter clung to Max’s hand, licking his cone and chatting up a storm about Spiderman. “He likes ice cream, a lot.”
