What Maxi Needs (Leave Your Shoes On 3)

“Anyway,” Ryan said, as he seemed to get his bearings. “About the two of us…”

Maxi crossed her arms over her chest. Fought the gravitational pull that would have her in his strong embrace with one small step forward.

He told her in his sexy, irresistible accent, “I meant every word I’ve said. You’re perfect for me, Maxi. We’re perfect together. Let’s really and truly go for it.”

She stared up at him. He whisked the wetness from her cheeks with his thumbs, though the trickling didn’t stop.

“Come on,” Ryan coaxed. “You’re killing me here, being tormented over something that didn’t actually happened. You know I would never hurt you. And, Maxi…there’s no denying that we’re right for each other.” He used her own words from the very first time they’d made love, modified slightly for his current purpose: “We are metaphysically, viscerally, cerebrally, algebraically right for each other. Totally. Admit it.”

Her heart fluttered. Her body trembled.

Dare she take the chance…?

“Maxi.” One of his hands swept through her hair. His head dipped. He murmured, “Please, sweetheart. You’re it for me. Trust me.”

She searched her feelings, calling upon her newly honed romantic instincts.

And found her answer deep within her soul.

“Maxi, I will do anything to—”

“Yes,” she said, the tears now streaming faster. “I do trust you.”

They gazed at each for what felt like endless moments.

Then Maxi took a deep, ragged breath and said, “Let’s go for it, Ryan. Let’s completely and truly go for it.”

She couldn’t help but let her heart guide her. After all, it seemed to be on the tried-and-true path these days.

Ryan pulled her into his arms. Maxi held on tight. A much clearer intuition telling her that she’d finally chosen the right man.

Telling her that Dr. Ryan Donovan’s love was exactly what she needed.

Epilogue

A month later…

“This is going to be a great movie night,” Maxi announced, as she flopped onto the sofa in her living room.

Ryan had cooked—just one more thing he was ridiculously proficient at. And one more thing that she adored and admired about him, because he was all about offering foot massages at the end of the day while she sipped a glass of wine and something incredibly aromatic roasted in the oven or simmered on the stovetop.

“What’s tonight’s selection?” he asked, as he set out a charcuterie board on the coffee table and then joined her.

Maxi would never have known that that was the French equivalent of an antipasto platter had she not met Einstein. He’d taught her numerous things.

“When Harry Met Sally…,” she told him. “I figured it was high time you watched this flick, and it’ll make for interesting conjectures afterward.”

Because she love, love, loved engaging in his stimulating conversation. Even when most of it still went over her head. The really fun part was finding sexy ways to prove her own points. Generally involving actions that stimulated more than his brain.

He settled in and pulled her to him, so that she was tucked under his arm, her head on his chest, his arm draped around her shoulders.

The production crisis at Staci Kay Shoes had passed, and things were a bit calmer in the workplace, so that they could spend most of their evenings together, either at Maxi’s condo or Ryan’s Colonial. He’d begun hinting at consolidating households. The notion made her toes curl in her stilettos, but Maxi was taking things one step at a time. What they shared was perfect in her mind, and she didn’t want to rush it or mess this up.

Because she was deeply, madly, passionately in love.

Maxi had finally cut loose of the users—and had found her ruggedly handsome knight in shining armor.

Also by Calista Fox