Page 50 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
Chapter Twelve
We wash up, change, and join the kids on the beach before noon. The youngest four are making a sandcastle at the water’s edge, while Daisy and Mikie share a jet ski under the watchful gaze of Lucius, who wears his customary suit despite the heat.
A row of cabanas is positioned with a view of the water, creating a cozy, homey space. Maxim leads me to one, and we share yet another bed-sized lounger—though this time with a safe distance between us.
It should be so boring in theory. Lazing in the shade, watching the kids frolic in the ocean without a care in the world. To some people, maybe it would be. To me, this strain of peace is a new drug.
And I’m hopelessly addicted already.
Just when I think our ‘normalcy’ has reached its peak, we’re accosted by a whining Ainsley who begs Maxim to take her into the water. Which he does, utilizing a gentleness I would have never suspected him capable of expressing. I think he’s surprised by it as well. The tenderness in his voice as he shows her and a bashful Eric how to plant their feet to withstand the waves. The playfulness he exudes while chasing them in and out of the water to help ease their fear of it.
A part of me keeps whispering that it’s all an act—the real man comes out at night in that dark room. But witnessing him like this easily overpowers the doubt.
And I realize in the pit of my stomach that nothing else could come close tothis. Not the supposed benefits he promised being with him would bring. Not the money. Not the ring.
I’d trade everything for this.
This moment.
This contentment.
Him, seemingly at peace, even for a second.
* * *
The sun isin the process of setting by the time we return to the house. Dinner consists of leftover hamburgers eaten on the terrace while dipping our toes into the pool—another variation of our previous family meals.
I sit on a lounger across from Maxim while the kids chatter about random topics.
“Mermaids don’t exist, stupid,” Eric snipes in response to Ainsley. “But sharks?” He holds his hands up to his mouth, baring the nails like makeshift jaws. “They do, and they love eating little dummies like you!”
“Knock it off,” I scold, but my voice lacks the old authority it used to. It’s as though the warmth, and the breeze, and the hum of the ocean rob the atmosphere of everything but peace. Lifting my head to shoot them both a stern, warning glance, is about all I can muster in terms of refereeing.
Luckily, they both retreat.
“Mr. Sir?” Ainsley climbs from her lounger and crosses to Maxim’s. Before I can stop her, she’s already managed to crawl onto his lap, heedless of the discomfort turning him to stone.
I scramble to my feet, reaching for her. “Ainsley—”
“It’s okay.” Maxim raises a hand to halt my approach. One of his arms moves to cradle Ainsley’s waist, keeping her from falling. The stiffness doesn’t leave him, but the way he tilts his head receptively conveys that he’s tolerating the contact regardless.
Oblivious to us both, she keeps chattering. “If you did marry Frankie, and you have kids. Would they be our brothers and sisters, or—”
“Ainsley!” Daisy rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “God, you can be such a moron sometimes.”
“Not uh!” Pouting, Ainsley tugs on Maxim’s sleeve until she has his full attention. “It’s a good question, right? Are you going to have kids?”
Mikie groans, burying his face in his hands while the twins suddenly seem very interested in their food. The only person seemingly unbothered by the question is Maxim.
“I… I don’t know.” His voice sounds neutral enough. None of the kids seem to sense the hesitation in it that I do. From this angle, I can’t see his face, just the hard, pulsating line of his jaw. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that question.”
But I can. That answer is one of the few things he’s provided willingly without needing to be prodded—no.During my first few days with him, he ensured as much by injecting me with birth control without even asking for my consent.You will not get pregnant,he said by way of explanation.That is the one thing you never have to worry about me inflicting upon you.
Back then, I’d been more than relieved by that reassurance. But now, with the prospect of marriage looming overhead?
I’m not even sure what I want. But with his past…who knows how much of that affects his viewpoint on the concept of children? Which brings up the very good question as to where my kids fall into the grand scheme that is Maxim Koslov’s fucked-up world.
“Oh, well.” Sighing, Ainsley scampers off of him and returns to her seat. “I always wanted a baby sister. I hate being the baby—”
