Bucking Bear (Pounding Hearts 3)

Max cooks dinner for us, and he and Hope spend most of the evening discussing what color she wants to paint her room. She spends most of the night gushing on and on about how awesome her room is, and how much she loves it and all her new dolls.

I shoot off a quick text to Mandy, asking her to thank Brett for me when we all settle down on the couch to watch football. Knowing that Hope is happy here and has no idea of what’s going on with her father makes everything so much easier. It’s one less weight sitting on my shoulders, crushing me.

With Hope snuggled up between the two of us, I glance over at Max expecting to find him watching the game but he’s watching me. There’s this mixture of heat and possession in his eyes that steals my breath.

With Hope snuggled between us, there’s just something about this that feels completely right. He’s sitting on his side, all relaxed with his arm thrown over the back of the couch, his fingers touching me. Hope leans against him while she plays with her dolls, her little legs draped over my lap. With the TV buzzing in the background and the lights dimmed for the night, it’s almost like we’re a real bona fide family enjoying our evening together.

It’s not long before Hope falls asleep, her little body curling up against Max, seeking his warmth in her dreams. He lifts her up and she looks so tiny, so fragile in his arms. I follow him as he carries her to her room. Stepping back, he gives me enough space to bend down, tuck her in and kiss her on the forehead good night.

We step into the hallway and I stop Max as he begins to close her door. “Don’t. She might wake up and be frightened if it’s too dark.”

Nodding, he takes my hand and quietly leads me down the hall. We step into his room and I hesitate for a moment as he closes the door, knowing exactly where this is leading.

Tugging me towards his bed, his warm mouth covers my mouth and he begins to push me down while kissing me sweetly.

I kiss him back but refuse to bend, stiffening.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, breaking the kiss when I remain stiff. Staring deeply into my eyes, he strokes my hair back.

I want him. I need him. It’s been too long and I’ve been through so much stress I want to get lost in his love, lost in his kisses. But how can I be intimate with him knowing Hope is just down the hallway and she might hear us?

I glance towards his closed door with worry and he smiles, easily guessing what the problem is. “My walls are thick, she won’t hear us.”

I shake my head and poke him playfully in the chest. “But you get really, really loud. I’m pretty sure the neighbors across the lake can hear you roaring in the heat of the moment.”

Max laughs, a great big loud rumbling laugh and I wince, half expecting to hear Hope call out for me. “Want me to put some music on?”

I consider it for a moment before nodding in agreement.

Reluctantly, he drops my hand and walks over to his speaker dock. After hooking up his phone, a Britney Spears song immediately starts playing. Not a big surprise by any means, the guy has to be her biggest fan, literally. It takes me a second to recognize the song though, it’s one of her older ones. I’m a Slave 4 u, I think.

As he walks back around the bed to me, I notice there’s a little pep to his step that wasn’t there before. And as he passes beneath the poster of Britney still up on his wall, I’m struck by this sudden fear that wasn’t there a second before, something I remember Mandy mentioning.

“Max…” I gasp and his eyes widen, rushing the last couple of steps to me.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, big paws grabbing me by the arms while his worried eyes search my face.

I glance towards the poster then back to him. How the hell do I even ask it? It feels utterly silly but completely terrifying.

“Grace?”

But it would explain why he’s so crazy for me, and why he’s willing to do so much for me… Why else would he put up with this Carson shit?

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my panicking heart. I’ve just had a rough couple of days and it’s all hitting me now, I’m being irrational.

Letting the breath out, feeling calmer, I’m pretty sure Max loves me for me. Not because I somewhat resemble a pop idol.

Max’s eyes still demand an answer though.

I take another, deep, deep breath and look pointedly toward the poster before I ask. “Are you only with me because I look like her?”

His eyes widen even further and his jaw drops a little. He follows my line of sight and then the big oaf is laughing at me.

I poke him in the ribs, seriously not finding this funny.

“No, I’m not with you because you look like her,” he tries to reassure me and maybe it’s because he finds it funny I begin to relax. Believing he’s telling the truth, I feel even more silly for thinking it. Seriously with everything that’s going on I was worried about this?

“Hey, it was a valid question,” I say in my defense as he keeps chuckling. “You seem to be pretty crazy about her.”