Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 141810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 709(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 709(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
And what do you know, a second later, Max abruptly dropped his arm and cleared his throat. “It’s getting late.” He scooted his chair out and removed Sean’s legs from his knee. “Need to grab stuff from the basement. Sean, you’ll clean this up, yes?”
Sean shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
“Thanks. Be right back.”
But then he paused to give Scott a look. Scott responded in kind with a smile. One that oozed playful provocation. Like he was teasing Max or something. Antagonizing him for fun. And going by the way Max just narrowed his eyes? Yup, Scott probably was. Which Sean had to appreciate. He loved fucking with Max, too.
Max exhaled and strode off. Scott chuckled and looked at Sean.
“Should I ask?” Sean grinned.
Scott shrugged. “Probably not.”
Sean nodded, eyeing him further, then laughed before he could tamp it. “Man, you’re really big.” Which he knew was stating the obvious, but damn it, he just had to say it. Because for whatever it required to get so big, Scott definitely deserved the recognition.
Scott smiled. “Thanks, Sean. And you’re really… young.”
Sean stiffened. Yeah, okay. No more compliments for Scott. “Not that young. I’m a senior.”
“Mm. Still young.”
“Says you, old man.” Sean stood and gathered their plates.
Scott barked out a laugh. “Touché.”
Sean flashed a saucy smirk and headed to the sink.
Scott joined him a second later to help out. “Wanna score brownie points with Mr. Dom? Do the dishes by hand.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup. He loves that shit. Is convinced we do a much better job than a dishwasher.”
“Hmm. He’s probably right.” Sean plugged the drain and turned on the faucet.
Scott started soaping a glass. So did Sean. Things stayed pretty quiet until Scott finally spoke back up.
“You like him,” he stated, idly scrubbing.
Sean stilled. For real? Scott was trying to feel him out? Yeah well, Sean didn’t give up the money that easy. Nodding casually, he shrugged. “He’s cool.”
Scott chuffed a soft laugh but quickly quieted. “Be careful, Sean,” he murmured. “Max isn’t… typical.”
Sean frowned and looked at him. “What do you mean?”
Scott rinsed the glass. Washed the other. Then shook his head. “Nothing bad. He’s a good guy. Don’t get me wrong. It’s just… he’s got really sharp edges.”
Nothing new there. Sean nodded. “I know… But…”
Scott paused and looked at him.
Sean sighed. “But I don’t care. I’m not scared of a few cuts and bruises.”
Scott turned back and scanned the suds, his expression suddenly sad. “Well, that’s good. And I’m grateful for it. Max needs someone to go to bat for him. Thing is, like I said, he’s not exactly typical. He’s harder. Angrier. Likes his steel-clad bubble. And when people try to fuck with it, he reacts like a cornered animal. Goes on the offense as his defense.”
Sean finished the plates as Scott washed the silverware, contemplating the crux of Scott’s words. Scott was concerned for him. Was afraid Max might hurt him. Although, Sean didn’t get the impression he meant physically. But he wasn’t telling Sean to steer clear. Just to be careful. As if a part of Scott wanted Sean to make headway.
“So the moral of this story,” Sean finally surmised. “Is to approach with caution. And do so wearing protection.”
Scott chuckled. “Yeah.” But his smile was small. “That pretty much sums it up.”
* * * * *
Max headed up the stairs with bag in hand, more than ready to get things started. In truth, he was eager to see Sean’s reaction to all of the things he had planned. Each was so different. Nothing huge, nothing extreme—at least not the ones in the beginning. And yet, by their fundamental purpose alone, each should glean plenty of insight. On just how committed Sean was to their arrangement. Of just how far he was willing to go.
And Max only had an hour to work with. Although, with the way he’d broken Sean’s itinerary up—half before Max’s clients arrived, half after they left—an hour would probably be fine.
He reached the top of the stairwell and took a left into the kitchen. Sean was rinsing off a soapy frying pan. Scott was beside him, drying silverware.
“Sean.”
Sean turned around and smiled. “Sir.”
Scott turned around as well, toweling off his hands. “Shit. Look at the time. I should probably go get ready. Zack’ll be over soon to work out.”
Max watched him approach, knowing he’d have to pass Max in the doorway. Something Scott was well aware of, too. Scott lifted a brow in blatant challenge. Max smirked in response, accepting. Because, no, this wasn’t new. They did this all the time. Messing with each other for the fuck of it. Scott slowed with only a few feet between them, then juked lightning fast to the right. Max moved to block, but Scott was faster, making it halfway past before Max shoved him.
Scott bounced against the hallway wall with a laugh. “Getting slower, old man. Next time I’ll take it at a jog.”