Max (Cold Fury Hockey 6)

She giggles, her eyes sparkling...turning golden brown again. "Well, you're really very good at this whole sweeping-a-woman-off-her-feet kind of thing. You must have had a lot of practice."

"I've actually only had one serious relationship before," I tell her candidly. "And I wasn't very good at it."

"Do tell," she quips.

"I didn't put the effort in," I admit. "It was first love type of stuff. Met her when I was sixteen and then we dated long distance for a while when I went into the NHL, and then she eventually followed me to Florida when I played with the Spartans."

"What happened?"

I give her a wry smile. "Nothing happened. I just didn't put in the effort, you know? I thought it was enough to be in love, and I just figured things would work out. Apparently, she fell out of love long before I realized what was going on. She broke it off because I couldn't devote enough of my energy to her."

"But surely she knew that being with someone in the NHL...someone that had to travel and--"

I cut her off. "No, it wasn't about the amount of time we spent together, or lack thereof. It was about the quality of the time. She just didn't feel that she was important enough to me, and that's all on me."

She considers that for a moment, her gaze dropping down momentarily before coming back to me. "Sounds like you may have learned some lessons from that experience then."

"Yeah," I tell her softly, bring my hand from her back to cup her cheek. "I learned if someone is important enough, it's not all that hard to give them what they need. It kind of comes naturally."

Her eyes go round, and yeah...she gets what I'm saying.

She understands that she's important to me.

"Max?" she whispers.

"Yeah, babe?"

"I hope I can give you back what you give me," she says hesitantly. "I want to. I want to give you everything that you deserve, but sometimes I feel like the world is pressing in on me and it can be hard for me to prioritize. I really, really like you and I want you to be a priority in my life. If you ever feel like you're not, you have to let me know."

I lean in and kiss her, and when I pull back, I tell it to her straight. "You're doing just fine, Jules. And I really, really like you too."

I know I should be watching the hockey game but I can't stop staring at Max in goal. I'm sure there's plenty of action at the far end, but I still watch Max.

I wonder if he'd think that was weird.

"Stop staring at Max," Kate says as she leans across the two kids that separate us, namely Annabelle and Ben. I've got Levy and Rocco to my right.

I grin back at her. "Can't help it."

"No, I suppose you can't," she quips sympathetically.

I can't even believe I'm sitting here. Max surprised us with tickets when he showed up at my apartment this morning. That included a very hot kiss because as soon as I opened the door, he pulled me out so the kids couldn't see and proceeded to kiss the daylights out of me.

It was a deep kiss filled with longing and frustration, because it's been a long, long week since we'd had sex. Granted, on Halloween night we'd had a lot of sex, but it wasn't enough to tide each of us over. And I suppose these past seven days is probably a good preview of how our relationship is going to be tested over the incredibly busy lives Max and I lead separate from each other.

After we both woke up Sunday morning, he made love to me first, then he took me to Kate and Zack's and we picked up the kids. He then treated us to breakfast before dropping us off at my apartment. The rest of his day was spent between a workout, practice, and a team meeting. I spent that evening painting.

Monday through Thursday was no better in the amount of time we had with each other. I did my normal work routine at Sweetbrier from seven A.M. to four P.M. and then spent good quality time with the kids until it was time for them to go to sleep. I then painted from about eight to midnight. Max traveled to an away game, so I didn't see him at all on Tuesday and Wednesday, but he did come over and eat dinner with me and the kids on Monday and Thursday. Friday he had an evening team meeting, so I didn't get to see him. The way I calculated it, we saw each other a grand total of four hours for the week, and out of that time we shared a few hot kisses once the kids were in bed. But then Max left me to my painting, because as he said I wasn't going to get paid unless I produced something.

This was a bitter pill to swallow. I wanted to use my talents to help support me and the kids. Max helped me with an amazing opportunity, but it did nothing to alleviate my time crunch, and thus limited my time with Max. This truly sucks because for the first time in a very long time I want something for myself, and for the first time in also a very long time I don't feel guilty for wanting it. Max has sort of made me see that it's okay to have something for myself. He helped make that true with getting me started back with my painting, something I love doing, and it's just an added bonus that I can make something from it.

"So what are you and Max going to do tonight?" Kate asks when there's a break in the action on the ice.

She taught me all about TV timeouts, and while my eyes stayed pinned to Max as he skated slow circles in front of the net to stay loose, I told her, "He said the team usually gets together over at a bar across the street from the arena after and he wanted to take me there."

Yes, Max wants to go out after the game, and while I'd personally like to spend just another quiet night with him, I got the distinct impression from Max that this was important to him.

"Houlihan's," Kate says with an understanding nod. "He wants to show you off."

Max, unbeknownst to me, earlier in the week had asked Kate if she would watch the kids again for the night. I didn't feel great about this because it seemed like a huge imposition on Kate and it made two Saturdays in a row she'd watched my three little ones.

I don't give any credit to her theory that Max wants to show me off, not because it doesn't deserve it, because it's probably true, but because I have something more pressing. Turning in my seat and finally taking my eyes off Max, I ask Kate, "Are you sure you don't mind watching the kids tonight? I'm not feeling the best about this."

Kate waves an impatient hand at me. "Please, girl...game nights in our household are very low-key. Zack won't want to do anything but relax in his recliner with a beer, and the kids will zonk out as soon as we get home. It's a late night for them."

This was true as evidenced by the fact that Annabelle's been rubbing her eyes for the last fifteen minutes. While Levy and Rocco are totally into the game, Annabelle's been a little bored, and if it wasn't for Ben sitting next to her, she probably would have conked out long ago. Even though Ben's the same age, he's got a vested interest in the game and has been around hockey his entire life, so he was into the game too. But he's such a sweet boy...he'd be cheering for his dad out on the ice one minute and then the next he'd turn in his seat and chatter away with Annabelle.

"If you and Zack ever want a date night, all you have to do is call me. I'll take Ben in a heartbeat," I offer her.

"You're sweet," she says with a smile. "I'll take you up on that. Besides, that's what we do. The Cold Fury is a family."

Those words cause me to jerk in my seat because they pack quite a punch. Am I part of the Cold Fury family? I mean...I'm not married to Max, and we've only known each other about five weeks now, but still...he seemed like it was no big deal for him to ask Kate and Zack to watch my kids. Is that because he's thinking because we're together I'm automatically brought into the fold?

"So listen," Kate says as she leans toward me a bit more. "I was in Fleurish the other day and Stevie and Olivia showed me your paintings, and Jules, they are stunning. I mean, Max told me they were amazing but when I saw them...I was just blown away."

My face flushes red but I try to maintain some semblance of grace. "Well, thanks...that's really nice of you to say, Kate."

She nods. "And I was wondering if I could commission you to paint something for me to give to Zack for Christmas. I swear he's so hard t

o buy for, but I was thinking of having a portrait done of Ben, but not like just a regular portrait. I'd want it done in all those fantastic bold colors...make it slightly abstract."

A zap of pure happiness runs through me and I eagerly nod at Kate. I've never been asked to paint something for someone before, and it's beyond flattering. "I'd love to. But no way are you paying for it. I'd be happy to just give it to you."

Kate rolls her eyes at me and then leans over farther and pats me on the knee. "You're really cute, Jules, but seriously...wise the hell up. This is your business. It's how you make a living. You charge for your talent."

"But, I couldn't--"

"You can," she rolls right over me, and then in a voice that does not mess around, she says, "If it bothers you that much, cut me a five percent deal or something, but I'm paying you or I'm not going to let you do it."