Revved To The Maxx

“I need to approve them.”

She peered over her frames, shaking her head. “And we were getting along so well. Of course I’ll show them to you.”

“And if I don’t like them, you’ll change them.”

“I assumed so from your tone.”

“I want to be involved. It’s my business, so you include me in every decision, do you understand?”

With a huff, she stood, brushing her hands along the back of her shapely legs. She picked up her laptop. “Yowsers. And you say I have big balls. I’m going to check on dinner.”

Rufus followed her, giving me the eye as he trailed behind her. She must have charmed him with treats. That was the only explanation.

I watched her walk away, her ass spectacular in those shorts. She was rather touchy about the logo thing. It was my business; of course I would want to check it. The balls remark was really uncalled-for.

I stood and grabbed the blanket, shaking it out. I followed her into the house, stopping as the scent of whatever she was cooking hit me. It was rich and hearty, and there was a trace of sweet lingering in the air.

I set down the blanket, wandering into the kitchen. “Something smells awesome,” I offered in way of apology, although I wasn’t sure what I needed to apologize for. I didn’t want to jeopardize dinner, though.

She lifted the lid off a roaster and stirred the contents.

“It’s ready whenever you’re hungry.” She took a bowl, filling it, then busied herself at the counter. She turned, and my eyes widened at the sight of the piece of pie on the plate she had placed over the bowl. Lemon meringue. My absolute favorite.

“You made pie?”

“Yes, Captain Obvious, I made pie.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Short ribs.”

She grabbed some cutlery, tucked her laptop under her arm, and sidled around me. “Make sure you clean up.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“To my room. Sundays are supposed to be a day off, and I’m done. You’re on your own, unless you tell me you need to be spoon-fed too.”

“You’re going to eat in your room?”

She waved toward the crowded, messy dining table. “Unless I sit in your lap, there is nowhere for me to eat, and besides, I want to enjoy my dinner. And with you glowering at me, barking orders, I doubt that will happen. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Then she was gone.

I stood, perplexed. Part of me wanted to go after her and tell her she could sit on my lap and eat. Then after, we could figure out how to work off the food. The other part of me was annoyed over her glowering remark. We’d had an amicable time chatting outside—until the website talk.

I stomped to the cupboard and grabbed a plate. I didn’t glower. Or bark orders.

I dished out the meal she’d made. The pot had short ribs, potatoes, and carrots—like a whole meal in one pot, and once I had a taste, I moaned out loud. Again, it was simple, but amazing. I had a feeling the pie was going to be even better.

I ate until I was full, enjoying everything she had made. Oddly enough, I felt almost lonely while I polished off my meal. It might have been nice to share it with someone.

Even someone with a smart mouth, who would, no doubt, “chap my ass” while sitting across from me.

I might have to do something about that. Lord knew what would happen if that occurred, though.Chapter 11MAXXCharly was already at the desk when I walked into the garage the next morning. I was determined today would be better. A fresh start. Officially, she was now an employee, and I would treat her as such. I rolled my shoulders, shook my head, and headed toward the office, plastering a smile on my face.

“Morning, Charly.”

She lifted her head from the mess of papers on her desk, smirked, then intoned in a deep voice, “Morning, Angel.”

Then she burst out laughing at her own joke, the sound echoing off the walls. I rolled my eyes and filled a clean mug with coffee, noting the office was even tidier today than it had been yesterday.

“What time did you start?” I asked, curious.

She shrugged, sorting papers, not bothering to look up. “About five.”

“Are you not comfortable in your room?”

She stopped, lifting her gaze to mine. Behind her glasses, her green eyes were bright, although I thought she looked a little tired. I knew better than to say that, though. I had enough experience with women to know they didn’t like comments on their appearance unless they were complimentary.

“It’s fine. I’ve always been an early riser.” She waved a hand filled with papers. “Lots here to catch up on.”

“Hence the job, Charly.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “I know. This is my plan. I am going to sort in here this morning, then spend the afternoon sorting stuff in the house. I assume you have cleaning supplies in there?”