I knew I couldn’t spend the rest of my life living in a room in the back of a garage, but for now, it was what I needed. I hoped Maxx would keep me on so I could find my feet and save some money, then decide what I wanted to do. I wasn’t sure my future included Toronto. Growing up, I longed for the city and the lure of excitement. Living there was a different matter altogether. Maybe small-town living was more my style. But I needed time to figure it out, and I wanted to stay here.
I pushed the bicycle forward, steering it into the empty bay at the side. It needed some work, but I wasn’t afraid of getting my hands dirty. As long as Maxx was still okay with me fixing it up and riding it. I ran a hand through my tangled hair, suddenly feeling tired.
If Maxx wanted an employee, that was what he’d get. I was going to do my job so well he would forget about anything else. I would stay busy, out of his way, and avoid being alone with him, and, above all else, arguing with him. That seemed to cause trouble every time.
I would treat him the way I treated my old boss, Peter. With respect and decorum. Peter always said I was invaluable to him, and I wanted to be that for Maxx as well, so I could stay.
I tried not to think about the fact that I never wanted to feel Peter’s hands on my body or that I found Maxx utterly irresistible.
I simply had to put aside the overwhelming roar of lust that blasted through my body every time Maxx growled or glared at me. Forget the way it felt as his body moved with mine. The way he tasted and felt. How he made me feel desired, sexy, and safe.
I could do that. From this moment on, he was only my boss. Nothing more.
Easy peasy.Maxx came into the garage the next morning, going straight to his workbench. I hadn’t gone to the house last night, figuring it was best to keep my distance. There were plenty of leftovers for him to eat, and I wasn’t hungry. I spent the night organizing my room and chatting with Kelly via text. She hated talking on the phone, so we always texted instead. I didn’t tell her much about Maxx except to say he was tough but I was enjoying my job.
Her news was far more interesting.
Kelly: Terry’s been arrested.
Charly: What?
Kelly: Another tenant complained. She found him in her apartment and screamed down the place, called the cops and the local news. He’s up on breaking and entering and harassment charges. He was fired from his job and is in jail. A few other people came forward.
Charly: Holy moly. I sent a letter to the cops and the owner of the building before I left Toronto.
Kelly: The news piece said they had other complaints from former tenants too. Maybe they meant you.
Charly: Wow. He deserves it. I wonder if they will contact me.
Kelly: I think they have lots of other people, but they might. They found a lot of little, ah, “souvenirs” he took from people’s places.I shook my head, staring at the screen.
Charly: Ugh. I always thought I lost stuff. I hope he rots in prison. At least he is out of the building.
Kelly: For sure.Then she went on to tell me she was off on another trip with her photographer, this time a longer one, and promised to let me know when she got home. I wondered if she would ever get tired of her nomadic lifestyle and settle down. But Kelly loved her life, and if it made her happy, then that was all that mattered. By the time we stopped texting and I checked out the articles on Terry, my mind was racing over the whole situation and not simply on Maxx’s overreaction.
He was not the same this morning, his usual anger-driven stance missing. He moved differently, not stomping or striding quickly. His shoulders were hunched, not the ramrod straight posture I was used to seeing.
Was he ill?
I worried my lip as I wondered what I should do. Take him coffee? Ignore him?
Finally, I decided normalcy was the best route. I poured him a coffee, grabbed my notebook, and went out front. He was sitting at the workbench, staring at a file folder. He didn’t notice me approaching, so I cleared my throat.
“Morning, boss.”
He looked up, and my breath caught in my throat. Exhaustion was etched into his face, the lines around his eyes deep.
The urge to step forward, cradle his face in my hands, and kiss him was strong. I wanted to take him to his room, pull him down on his bed, and hold him while he slept.