CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ONE MONTH LATER
“I need you to call in sick to work today,” Max said.
“That's a very odd request.”
“Yes, it is, but I need you to do it and I need you to trust me.”
“Max, I’ve just kind of gotten back into my routine. I missed a lot of work last month.” After the raid and the confirmation that he was gone, I had wallowed in my grief mostly in bed or on my couch. I've never been the throw yourself into work type to get through trauma. I wallow and hide. But it was time to start living again, or at the very least get out of the house. And I’d gone into the office two days in a row now. My bosses wouldn’t balk at me needing a day, but I was balking.
“I know, but, please just do it, and stay put. I'll be there to explain in an hour or so.”
I did as I was told. Then I called him back. “Done, can I stay in my pajamas since, you know, I'm home sick?”
He laughed. “Yes, I think pj's are perfectly fine for this.”
I had no idea what he was up to, but given his mood, I suspected it was something designed to cheer me up. But why on a Thursday? I was thinking a puppy, which made me smile and tugged at my heart a bit, wondering how things would be so different if Max had chosen me. While I was in Iran with Farid he and Sarah began divorce proceedings and everything came to a fairly nasty conclusion while Max was charged with surveilling me. He hadn’t shared any of this with me until the night of the raid.
I stood to greet the heavy footsteps I heard coming up the back and opened the door before he could get to it. I was planning to try to look surprised when he presented me with a little fluffball, had actually gotten myself excited about it.
Oh, I was surprised all right.
My jaw dropped, all oxygen escaped me, my knees went weak. I could barely comprehend what I was seeing. I covered my mouth with my hands as tears started to fall. Max shifted to the side and Farid took the small brick stairs in one step as I fell into his arms. I couldn't speak and was starting to hyperventilate.
“Breathe,” he said over and over again as he stroked my hair.
“How,” I managed, not even realizing we had fallen to the ground and were sitting on the top step of my little landing area.
He looked over at Max.
“What?” I looked between them both. “You let me grieve, you let my world crash around me,” I punched his leg still clinging to Farid with my other arm. “You knew?”
Farid jumped to his defense. “We didn't know if we were going to be able to pull it off, so we thought it best not to give you false hope.”
I punched Max again.
“Why am I the only one getting punched?”
Farid lifted me up and carried me inside with Max in tow. They told me what they had done, why it had taken a month and that according to all parties concerned Farid was dead, several future attacks had been thwarted and his right-hand man was in our sights. My translator friend, Eitan Hadad, from Tel-Aviv was alive and well.
“I thought you were bringing me a puppy,” I laughed and looked at Max, wiping snot off my nose and then trying to gather myself up, but Farid - Eitan - wouldn't release his grip on me.
“Well that would have been a hell of a lot easier. Wish I'd thought of that instead.” Maxkissed the top of my head, and squeezed my shoulder, as he walked out the door.
“Max...” I rushed back out to the landing. He waved a hand over his head, but didn't look back, just stepped into his black SUV and left.
“I have no words,” I said softly as I walked back into the kitchen.
“You don't need any,” he wrapped his arms back around me and held me, his chin resting against my head.
I melted into him.
“Are you thirsty, hungry, tired...what do you need?” I pulled back a bit craning my neck to look up at him.
“I have everything I need right here,” he kissed my forehead.
“I knew you were going to say that.” I smiled.
“It's true,” he winked. “I have spent the past 48 hours it seems in airports and on planes. I would love a shower. Then we can talk or whatever.”
“I'll go for whatever,” I grinned at him and grabbed his ass. He picked up the duffel bag Max had set inside the door and made his way up to the bedroom. “You look damn good for a dead man.”
The bathroom door was slightly ajar, the water still running. I resisted the urge to join him and instead laid on the bed, watching the door, waiting impatiently. He exited running the towel across his hair and face and stopping at his chest as he saw me laying there. The towel hit the floor and he walked to me, water dripping down his long legs. I kneeled on the bed, sliding my hands up his smooth chest, still having to reach up for his lips. He pulled my sweatshirt over my head and pushed me back down on the bed wasting no time removing the sweats I had on as well.
“You are such a beautiful sight,” he said.
“As are you.” I smiled up at him, closed my eyes and lost myself in the feel of his lips against my skin, his tongue sliding across my belly up to my nipples. He sucked it into his mouth and nipped just slightly with his teeth. I giggled at him and waited for those lips to return to mine and enjoyed whatever path he chose to get there.
