Foxy In Lingerie (Lingerie 10)

“No, we’ll need a bigger place. I need more space.”

“For what?” I asked playfully. “We’re always tangled up together.”

“Gym. Guns. Gin.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll definitely need a bigger place then. But for now, it’s nice.” I moved against him and tucked my leg in between his with my torso across his waist.

He turned toward me and brushed his lips against my hairline, his scruff rough against my soft skin.

“You think you can make the trip tomorrow?”

“Baby, I’ve been fine since the day I left the hospital. I didn’t tell you otherwise because I wanted to lock you up in my prison once again.”

“The front door is unlocked.”

“I never locked the door when you were my prisoner before. Never needed to.” He brushed his lips against my forehead. “My hands on your body were the chains that kept you bound to me—and they still keep you bound to me.”

Max stepped out of the elevator with his sleeves rolled up. “I fit most of it into the truck. Anything else?”

“He’s just packing a few more guns.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s like he’s preparing for war.”

“For men like us, we never know when the next war is gonna happen until it’s at our doorstep. Better to be prepared.” Max had come over to help us load everything into the new truck. Bones claimed he could do everything on his own, but I wouldn’t allow him. His shoulder was healing, and I didn’t want him to tear the ripped flesh even more.

Max crossed his arms over his chest then peered down the hallway. “His woman packs lighter than him. Pathetic, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, but I only pack sundresses and art supplies. He packs bullets.”

He grinned. “True.”

I’d never thanked Max for what he did for my family, so now was the perfect opportunity. “Thanks for helping Conway. It really means a lot to me.”

He quickly dropped his gaze, the intimacy of the conversation unappealing to him. “You mean the world to him…so you mean the world to us.”

“That’s nice of you to say. If there’s ever anything I can do for you—”

He raised his palm to silence me. “You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart.” He lowered his hand and placed it in the pocket of his jeans. He glanced down the hallway again. “Hurry the hell up, asshole. You think I don’t have other things to do?”

Bones yelled back down the hallway, his voice shaking the walls. “Shut the hell up, asshole. And no, I don’t.”

Max turned to me and rolled his eyes. “I’ve saved his life twice, and this is what I get?”

“He’s a bit stubborn,” I said with a smile.

He arched an eyebrow.

“Alright, he’s really stubborn.”

“That’s more like it.” He glanced at the shiny watch on his wrist before he looked at me again. “Florence, huh?”

“Yeah. I think we’re going to be spending most of our time there.” I was certain Max wasn’t happy about that, having his closest friend five hours away.

“I’m relieved that Bones is back to normal. I didn’t like the way he was before…he didn’t either.” The melancholy in Max’s voice reached my ears. He spoke quietly, so Bones couldn’t overhear our conversation. “He’s happy, and I prefer him when he’s happy.”

It would be wrong for me to pry into Bones’s life through his friend, but Bones was purposely keeping me in the dark about what happened in the last three months. “Bones said he broke his limit when it came to booze and he learned his lesson the hard way… What happened?”

Hesitation was in Max’s eyes when he looked at me. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No. He wants to keep it from me, which is unlike him. He usually tells me everything.”

“I think he’s embarrassed.”

“Bones?” I asked incredulously. “He’s never embarrassed.”

“Maybe ashamed is the better word, then.”

I stepped closer to him so we could share whispered secrets. “What happened, Max?”

He looked down the hallway again, to check if Bones was coming. “The only reason I’m telling you is because I want you to understand how low this guy was. He didn’t brush off your breakup like it never happened. So when you go back to your family, you better make sure he’s receiving every bit of respect he deserves.”

“Of course.” I would never allow my family to call him trash ever again.

“When you left, he stayed home and avoided everyone. He never went out. He drank a lot. About a month after you broke up, his drinking got worse. He was on the verge of alcohol poisoning when he crashed his truck into a pole. He was taken to the hospital and treated. He was banged up, but also lucky.”

My hand immediately flew into my hair then slid down my neck. I massaged the tense muscles along the back of my neck, feeling the kinks of stress. A gasp escaped under my breath, and my chest ached as I tried to breathe. “No…”