Page 57 of Secret Stalker

Chapter Eighteen

Max rubbed the back of his neck and looked out the wall of glass to his deck and the angry, broiling sky over the lake beyond. The sun had set long ago, but the frequent cracks of lightning illuminated the heavy clouds that had been threatening rain most of the day. He figured the storm would finally let loose its full fury and drench them with rain soon. But until then, it was doing its best to whip the last of the dry leaves from the trees, making winter look even closer than it was.

A snuffling sigh sounded behind him and he turned around to see that Bex had fallen asleep on the couch while he’d taken a few minutes to stretch his legs. He was tempted to smile at the adorable picture she presented. But he didn’t really feel like smiling. It was hard to when the woman he’d loved had rejected him so soundly all those years ago, and then put him out of her thoughts for ten years. He sure as hell hadn’t put her out of his.

In the beginning, he’d been pathetic, begging her mother to tell him where Bex had gone. Later, once he’d become a cop and knew how to find her, he’d tracked her down. He’d driven to Knoxville and planned on confronting her. By then, he was well past the blubbering love-struck fool phase. He’d lived in the anger phase for a good year or two. And he wanted to demand an explanation. But when he’d seen her, he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go up to her and debase himself to ask her why she’d left. Ask her why she’d never called. He was too angry to even form a coherent sentence.

After that, he’d never gone to Knoxville again. And he’d almost convinced himself that he’d forgotten her until she’d shown up at that deli counter. And just like that, all his old feelings of anger, grief, resentment had risen to the surface and formed a crack in the heart he’d thought he no longer had. And in just a matter of days he’d brought her to his home and begged her to tell him why she’d never tried to see him, talk to him, after she left.

He was such a fool.

He strode to the couch and looked down at her. But the anger and resentment faded away, replaced by a pathetic longing that went deep in his soul. Bex. His Bex. She would always be his in his battered and bruised heart, even if not in reality. No matter how much he wished he didn’t care about her.

Her exhaustion was evident in the dark circles under her eyes. She needed to sleep. But he still had some questions. And he imagined his boss would be parked at his doorstep early in the morning, demanding that he get his butt back to work and bring Bex with him.

On the outside, Thornton was a grumpy pit bull. But when it came to his team, he was often full of bluster. He considered the SWAT team his family, and because of that he’d forgive Max the sin of ignoring his orders and walking out of the station with Bex. But Max knew better than to push it a second day. That would cross the line. He’d be suspended at best, fired at worst. Being a cop was something he’d wanted for as long as he could remember.

But what he’d really wanted, more than anything else, was lying on his couch, a thin line of drool drying at the corner of her mouth.

God, she was beautiful. Maybe not in the classic way most men thought of beauty. She had short legs, her mouth was wide, her cheeks round—something that had always bothered her, especially in middle school when other kids had called her chipmunk cheeks. She’d practically starved herself in eighth grade trying to get the narrow, thin face she thought she should have until she’d made herself sick. She’d finally had to realize that no matter how thin she was, her face never would be. Max liked to think that maybe he’d helped her with that, by telling her how beautiful she was, over and over, until she started to believe it.

He hadn’t been lying. He really did see the beauty others missed. It came from inside and shined through her bright, curious, intelligent eyes. The silky hair she despaired of never holding a curl was a wonder to him, soft as a rabbit. Those legs she thought were too short were perfectly proportioned to her body. She looked like one of those Disney fairies. All that was missing was a set of wings and a wand. She already possessed the magic, because she had utterly enchanted him.

She snuffled again, grumbling something in her sleep as she scrubbed at her mouth. Then she rolled over toward him. And opened her eyes.

He crouched down, almost at eye level. And his heart ached. “Hello, beautiful.”

Her eyes blinked. “Don’t call me that. I must look terrible.” She covered her face with her hands.

He gently pulled them down and, despising his inability to resist her lure, pressed a soft kiss against her lips.

Instead of kissing him back, she shoved at his chest and hurriedly sat up, covering her mouth and mumbling something behind her hand.

She was so cute when she was half-asleep and still confused.

“Betghrm,” she mumbled behind her hand again.

He tilted his head. “Hard to be sure, but I think you might be asking about the bathroom?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

He held out his hand. “Come on. I was going to question you some more, but I think I’ll give you a reprieve. You’re too far gone to make sense anyway. I’ll show you the guest room.”

She hesitated, then put her hand in his and let him pull her to standing. She let his hand go and stepped back, running her hands through her hair as if worried about her appearance.

“I’ll just freshen up and then you can drive me home.”

“I’d rather you stayed the night.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“You mean other than the fact that the wind is whipping and dry lightning is cracking outside?”

Her gaze went to the windows. “I must really be tired. I hadn’t even noticed.”

“Even if it weren’t storming, I’d strongly suggest that you consider staying. Whoever is after you knows about your mom’s house. I can protect you here, if it comes to that.”

She ran her hands up and down her arms and nodded. “Makes sense. Thanks. I appreciate it.”

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