Chapter Seven

It was a casual date, and casual was the keyword. Abby messaged Max, telling him that she only had time to grab a quick bite. Grocery shopping was on her list for the day, aside from the design work needing her attention.

Abby refused to do the candles and roses thing with Max or any other man for that matter. Casual was her new favorite word. Casual dates, casual necking on the sofa, casual sex, especially when it came to a man as intense as Max. Hell, one more glance from those laser eyes and she’d climb all over that rock-hard body.

Casual dating had never been Abby’s thing, and that was why she was staring at the third outfit she’d tried on in the space of five minutes. Her new neon-orange-and-white Nike sneakers were paired with dark blue jeans and a white Taylor Swift 1989 T-Shirt. The soft, worn T-shirt was one of her favorites, her lacy white bra subtly peeked through the thin white material, giving a hint of girl-next-door naughtiness.

“It’ll do,” Abby muttered as she threw a lipstick and deodorant into a worn leather bag.

The ring tone from the front gate indicated that Max had arrived. Abby gave security the green light and jogged through to the front sitting room to grab her keys. Stop acting like a freak. You can do this. You’re casual Abby. Just chilling and hanging loose.

By the time Max opened the front gate, Abby felt more in control, until she saw him in a navy-blue Henley shirt matched with blue jeans. He wore the jeans well. The sweatshirt, molding his hard chest in all the right places. Abby swallowed. Holy crumpets. She could thoroughly watch him walk to her gate and back over and damn over. And then she spotted the small bouquet of wildflowers held so carefully in those capable hands. That kicked the casual vibe to the curb. Damn.

“Hey, Abs. Are you okay?”

Abs. He called her Abs. Nope. She was not okay. Just a puddle of pudding melting all over her sitting room floor.

“Hi.”

“I know they’re not much compared to the flowers in your garden, but I thought of you when I saw them.” He thrust the bouquet forward.

Oh no, you don’t, mister. It’s not going down like this. Just two people, hanging out, grabbing some grub, even if one of them looked like he’d been sculpted from quartz.

She hadn’t said anything and Max stared at her oddly. Abby lunged for the flowers, muttering her thanks while racing for the kitchen and flinging them into a vase in record time. Max stood awkwardly in the other room, and Abby took three calming breaths before rejoining him.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“You look pretty.”

“Thanks. Just doing my normal day-thing, you know how it goes. Chores, errands, chores…” She sounded like a chump, Max still offered her a smile as he led her to his car.

***

She was adorable and clearly nervous. He kept reminding himself that this was a job and not a first date. Never a first date with a woman like her. One who might be planning on eradicating innocents with the blink of an eye. There was no doubt that Abby was hiding something and there was no denying that she was a person of interest on the militant network, but his gut said that this was more complicated than simply uncovering a sleeper. The more he investigated her, the more complicated she became. The puzzle pieces were getting jammed up. Were they wasting time? No, Abby was involved with Khalid Al Juhani; it was just a question of how.

As Max drove the new rental they’d acquired, he deliberately stretched out his free hand and ran a thumb over her ear before playing with her shirt sleeve, running his fingers along the fabric and brushing the top of her arm with the back of his hand. “I can see you as a Taylor Swift fan. That shirt looks damn good on you.” Max ran his hand down her side before returning it to the wheel. “Abs, where are we heading? Edengate Mall?”

“I do my weekly shop there, so we might as well get lunch at the same time.”

“I know a great place just a block away. It’s a little cozy, and the service is good,” Max suggested.

“Cozy?” she asked.

“Yeah. Cozy. Quaint tables, set out in a small courtyard.”

“Quaint?” Abby quipped.

“Are you going to repeat everything I say?”

“No.” She smiled. “It’s just that, well, I didn’t expect the word ‘quaint’ coming out of your mouth.”

They stopped at a traffic light and Max leaned in. “What’s wrong with the word ‘quaint’?”

His eyes ran over her lips, and she licked her lower lip in response. “Nothing. You’re just—I don’t know—very male. It sounds weird. Such a pretty word, coming out of your masculine mouth.”

Abby gasped as he pressed a kiss to her lips. Her warm lips were heaven. “Wanna see what else my masculine lips can do, or maybe my masculine tongue?”

Heat flared in those emerald eyes. A car horn blared and Max grinned, pulling across the busy intersection. Making prim and proper Abigail Evans wriggle in her seat was fun. It also served another purpose by distracting her. She wasn’t thinking about protecting secrets when Max turned on the charm. She was thinking of him touching her, stroking her, licking her. Hell, he was thinking about it too, but Max wouldn’t give them any breathing space; he’d slip into all her private places, mentally and physically. Abby would be putty in his hands.

***

A sweet-talking, lady-killing Casanova took up all the oxygen. Abby’s nether regions were having a party while her head ran in panic mode. Her brain obsessed over the thought of his mouth nibbling at her panties. Was it hot in here? Maybe the seat warmers were on? Nope. It was just her panty party gaining momentum, making her squirm again. Abby cracked the window and sucked in cool air. Grinning at her move, Max swerved expertly into a parking spot.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what’s that smirk for?”

“Feeling warm, Abby?” Frosty eyes ran conceitedly over her body.

A flush slid up her neck. No one ever made her blush. That in itself made her mad. Was he purposely messing with her? Screw him.

As she reached for the door, Max grabbed her arm. “Shit, I’ve upset you. That was inappropriate and rude. I’m more of a gentleman than this.”

“You’re fine. I just need air, and I need food.”

“No. It’s not fine. My mother would box my ears if she heard what just came out of my mouth on a first date.”

Abby smiled at that. “She sounds fearsome. But this isn’t a date, it’s just lunch, and there’s nothing wrong with a little flirting. I’m just not used to the flirting thing. I pretty much suck at it.”

Max chuckled. “It’s not possible for you to suck at anything. You’re gorgeous, look at you.” He traced her jaw with the back of his hand. “And…” he continued, “I’m about to kick my own ass for not opening your door. Stay where you are, and I’ll come around.” He circled to the driver’s side.

Abby wanted to believe the sweet words that fell so easily from his mouth, but she wasn’t perfect. Not by a long shot. Cowardly and deceitful were a better fit. Still, it felt nice to be put on a pedestal, even if it was by a sexy man who was a stranger yesterday and would soon be a stranger again. The trouble was that Max felt the opposite, familiar and safe, two qualities that would lead to their mutual downfall. Casual is what this was, and casual was what it could only ever be.

The restaurant was quaint and the food tasted delicious. How had she not known this place existed? The easy-going atmosphere and the glass of wine had her sinking into her chair. Max chatted about his family back in the US. His father was a rancher in Wyoming, his mom was the warm matriarch who kept his large family of siblings together. His pops always grumbled that the place was never quiet but secretly loved having friends and family over. Like Abby, his mom loved to bake. Max enjoyed visiting, he lived an hour away from his family. Then it was her turn. Abby knew it was coming. Wasn’t that how it worked, I tell you mine, and you tell me yours?

Max looked at her expectantly. Abby played with a crumb on her empty plate. She could choose the path of least resistance, tell him her parents were lovely people who lived in some remote spot on the planet. He didn’t need to know about her hard childhood or the monster in her closet called Dad.

Max was the man who’d held her on her bathroom floor as she’d sobbed. The man who’d patched up her head with gentle hands. The man who’d kissed her like she was a spun-glass ballerina. No one had ever treated her with such tenderness. They’d known each other all of two days and yet she instinctively knew that Max was a mighty fine man. Her biggest secrets were still hers to keep, but she’d give him a glimpse of someone she’d hoped to become. A woman who overcame the odds and came out stronger.

Decision made, Abby took the plunge. “I didn’t have your idyllic childhood. I’d lie if I didn’t tell you how envious I am.”

Max considered her words.

“The first memories were good ones. My parents lived in my grandparents’ basement in New York. We weren’t wealthy, but my family was happy in a super loud kind of way. That was due to my Italian grandmother and, even though I don’t have vivid memories of her, I have a vague sense of her energy. She passed away when I was four. It destroyed my father and my grandpa. Lucy was still so young, had a heart attack one morning while cleaning the stove. After a year of mourning, my dad—Jimmy—barely came near the family and my mousy mother barely emerged from their bedroom. She wasn’t exactly maternal. Grandpa Noah rocked me in this giant rocking chair that I’ll never forget, singing me Italian lullabies. Noah also fed and changed me when my parents were doing God knows what.”

The waiter came by, and Abby ordered a cup of chamomile tea.

Max spoke up. “So, what changed?”

“My father. Jimmy came home one evening carrying a pamphlet from a new church in the area called The Unity of Light. It wasn’t quite a church at the time. More like a youth meeting held in someone’s basement once a week. Jimmy started spouting religious quotes, saying he’d found his new path and would lead his followers towards the light of God.”

Abby scraped at her thumb as she considered her next words. “At first, Noah was happy for his son, praying that my father would find peace in religion. Pretty soon, it became clear that the meetings damned all other congregations or sects. Jimmy chose to build his first church in a secluded wooded area far from any city. He first moved us to Colorado, calling it the land of light. His followers made the trek, and so did Noah, out of concern for me. Over the next couple of years, Jimmy kept pressing for Grandpa to convert and Noah refused. Eventually Grandpa left. My father blamed me for it, said that I was a naughty brat that destroyed everything in my wake.”

“Goddammit. I’m sorry Abs.”

She shrugged away the old hurt, remembering that day. An eight-year-old mind never forgets seeing her grandpa pack up his truck and give her the tightest hug in the world, while sobbing into her neck. For years she’d wondered if Jimmy was right. Did Noah get tired of looking after a lively kid after her parents had checked out? Did he leave because of her?

Blinking tears away, Abby rushed to finish her story. “Anyway, Jimmy had a falling out with his congregation, and we moved to Northern Idaho to start a new parish, where Jimmy wrote a small bible outlining his warped beliefs.”

Max frowned. “What kind of beliefs?”

“If you fall ill, it’s the devil who’s come a-calling, infecting you with his evil. So the solution is to beat the devil out while confessing your sins. One winter, I fell ill with a severe bout of flu and was beaten with a belt and locked in the basement. I was nine years old and spent three days down there. “

Max looked furious. “What did your mom do?”

“She stood by, like a good little pastor’s wife, believing that my father was a prophet, here to save humanity.”

“Those fucking monsters.”

“One of their devoted followers came over for tea on the third morning and heard me coughing. My mom tried to clean me up before they could lay their eyes on me. Didn’t help though, I ran raging temperatures and spent two weeks in the hospital with pneumonia.”

“Child services didn’t take you away?”

She met his angry stare. “There wasn’t a whole load of evidence to go on. Technically the witness hadn’t seen me in the basement and only my butt and lower back showed bruising from the beating. The small-town police officer who stopped in was part of the congregation. He said there was nothing wrong with a good spanking every once in a while. It makes for healthy young folk.”

“Ass-wipe,” Max growled.

“Yeah. That was just the tip of the iceberg. According to prophet Jimmy, any book but his bible was seen as the devil’s work including school books and the actual Bible. Of course, television, the radio and computers were also Satan’s tools.”

“Sounds like freaking North Korea. Were you allowed to go to school?”

The North Korean comment made her smile. “Yes, but just so that Jimmy could look normal in the community. I shake my head at him now but at the time it was a living hell. I had no friends, no life or choices in anything I did. I hid library books in a hole I’d dug out behind wallpaper in my room. Jimmy found them eventually and a two-day stint in the basement was the result. When he spanked me he usually used his belt but, in that instance, a cane was his weapon of choice.”

Max stroked her arm. “I want to find him and beat the living shit out of him.”

“If anything, it made me more determined than ever to escape that life, even though it wasn’t all bad. We traveled to other countries. Jimmy used his influence to set up a second church in South Africa. I got to stay in some interesting places, and it gave me the travel bug.”

“How did you escape?”

“I left when I was sixteen.”

“Do you keep in touch with the bastard?”

Abby gave him a bitter look. “Would you?”

“If it were up to me, I’d bury the dickhead after putting a bullet between his eyes.” The tension in Max had Abby bracing for his next words. “Did he hurt you in other ways, Abs?”

Abby knew what he meant and shook her head. “Not like that, but it doesn’t make me hate him any less. It was always about Jimmy, always concerned for himself. His path in the world was the most righteous, his greediness and how others saw him. It was never about his wife or child. I haven’t seen them since the day I left. I lived in Southern Africa from eleven to sixteen years of age. When we went back to Idaho for a six-month stint, I ran away to Utah, completing my last year of school while working nights. My father runs a growing cult. That’s the only way to describe that community of brainwashed zombies. I’d rather die than give that power back to Jimmy. My father now runs five global locations, so I guess he’s doing well for himself.”

Abby ignored Max’s unblinking concern as she played with a loose thread in the tablecloth. Storm clouds hung low, darkening the courtyard.

“Leaving my family at such a young age forced me to be resourceful; there were no safety nets to fall back on. I didn’t have the white-picket-fence childhood that you grew up with, but I think I’m doing okay.”

Thunder rumbled as Max threaded his fingers with hers. “You’re more than okay. You’re amazing and just so you know, I don’t know of many people who had a white-picket-fence upbringing. My parents are a fluke, but we still had our difficult times—nothing compared to having Kim Jong-un as a father—but challenging nonetheless.”

Abby chuckled. The wind picked up, blowing up leaves around the courtyard. Max looked dark and mysterious in the shadowed light. Her heart fluttered.

“I love your hands.” He played with her fingers.

“Are you crazy? You like utilitarian grunge?”

Max chuckled. “What’s wrong with a little paint? They’re neatly manicured and tell me who you are. Creative…” He stroked her index finger. “Hardworking…” He circled a ring finger. “Intangible yet strong.” He drew her little finger into his mouth and pulled it out slowly.

Holy Cannoli. Abby sucked in a breath; Max placed her hand back on the table. The fire in his eyes matched her raging hunger, and she looked away.

The waitress cleared their plates.

Max stroked a foot along her calf. “So, what did you do after you left, Abs? You said you had the travel bug? Where did you go?”

That was where her secrets began. Playtime was over. “A story for another time. Should we get out of here? It looks like it’s going to rain.”

Max kissed her palm. “I’ll grab the check.”