Read Online The Millionaire Tempted Fate (A Novella) (Sweet and Savory Romances) by Shirley Jump - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shirley Jump
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thing."
"Then why are you treating them that way?"
The words hit Max hard. A hundred justifications leapt to mind, but he knew that’s all they were—justifications. For a man who spent his life in a risk-filled industry, he’d become risk-averse in everything else. "It just made sense to do it that way," Max said.
Todd laughed. "If there’s one thing that never makes sense, it’s love. I may not be married, but even I know that. The happiest people I know got married for all the wrong reasons. You might try that for yourself."
Max got to his feet. "If there’s one thing I’m not taking a risk on, it’s marriage. Thinking with your dick instead of your brain just leads to bad decisions."
"Maybe. But don’t you want to be with a woman who makes you think with both?"
Max didn’t have an answer for that. So instead, he did what he did best—retreated to the comfort zone of work.
*~*~*
He told himself he should turn around. That the way he was feeling right now, he wasn’t going to make a smart decision. But when Max tried to think of the right choice to make, nothing came to mind. Nothing but raising his hand and knocking on Angie’s door.
He’d spent the entire evening at work, pausing only to order some takeout. It wasn’t until the delivery guy showed up that Max realized he’d ordered all the dishes Angie liked. A clear sign he’d spent way too many Fridays with her, calling for Moo Shu Pork and General Tso’s Chicken so they could work their way through her Netflix queue without interruption. They’d been doing that ever since he was nine and heading to her grandmother’s house instead of staying in his silent, tense home. Even as an adult, nine times out of ten, he opted to hang out at Angie’s cozy apartment, so much warmer and more welcoming than the sterile, ordered environment of his own. Around eleven-thirty, he gave up on working and headed out of the office—ending up here, outside Angie’s apartment. He glanced at the door and realized this destination had always been a foregone conclusion.
Light glowed from under the door and music played from inside. Max raised his hand to knock, and realized he wasn’t choosing one environment over another. He was opting for her, for Angie .
For as long as he’d known her, Angie had had this way of making his world feel right. Of calming his worries, smoothing his troubles. She could read his moods in an instant and transform the worst day into one that had him laughing so hard tears streamed down his cheeks. She knew him, in ways no one else ever had, and he suspected, ever would.
She pulled open the door and he thought she’d never looked sexier, with her hair tumbling around her shoulders, an old T-shirt of his knotted at her waist, and a pair of baggy pale pink sweats that dipped to expose her bellybutton. Her mouth opened in a little O of surprise and something flipped deep inside him. "Max."
He started to speak, to try to explain why he was here in the middle of the night, and why he thought they shouldn’t kiss again. But all those reasons disappeared when he opened his mouth. "I, uh, wanted to—"
She raised her hand, and leaned forward, no, swayed really, which told him she’d been drinking. She placed a finger on his lips and her eyes met his with a devilish gleam. A gleam he knew well. Rum. Probably mixed with Coke. "Shhh. Don’t say anything. I promised myself that I would say this to you. As soon, as soon as…as possible."
All her s sounds came out with a sh . Okay, drinking a lot . "Angie—"
She pressed harder on his lips, then her gaze sharpened, and she drew in a deep breath. "Max Blackwell, I am in love with you."
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup butter
3/4 cup sugar
2 tablespoons water
1 (12 ounce) package semi-sweet chocolate chips, divided
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
1/2 cup nuts, chopped, optional
You need some serious chocolate fortitude right
"Then why are you treating them that way?"
The words hit Max hard. A hundred justifications leapt to mind, but he knew that’s all they were—justifications. For a man who spent his life in a risk-filled industry, he’d become risk-averse in everything else. "It just made sense to do it that way," Max said.
Todd laughed. "If there’s one thing that never makes sense, it’s love. I may not be married, but even I know that. The happiest people I know got married for all the wrong reasons. You might try that for yourself."
Max got to his feet. "If there’s one thing I’m not taking a risk on, it’s marriage. Thinking with your dick instead of your brain just leads to bad decisions."
"Maybe. But don’t you want to be with a woman who makes you think with both?"
Max didn’t have an answer for that. So instead, he did what he did best—retreated to the comfort zone of work.
*~*~*
He told himself he should turn around. That the way he was feeling right now, he wasn’t going to make a smart decision. But when Max tried to think of the right choice to make, nothing came to mind. Nothing but raising his hand and knocking on Angie’s door.
He’d spent the entire evening at work, pausing only to order some takeout. It wasn’t until the delivery guy showed up that Max realized he’d ordered all the dishes Angie liked. A clear sign he’d spent way too many Fridays with her, calling for Moo Shu Pork and General Tso’s Chicken so they could work their way through her Netflix queue without interruption. They’d been doing that ever since he was nine and heading to her grandmother’s house instead of staying in his silent, tense home. Even as an adult, nine times out of ten, he opted to hang out at Angie’s cozy apartment, so much warmer and more welcoming than the sterile, ordered environment of his own. Around eleven-thirty, he gave up on working and headed out of the office—ending up here, outside Angie’s apartment. He glanced at the door and realized this destination had always been a foregone conclusion.
Light glowed from under the door and music played from inside. Max raised his hand to knock, and realized he wasn’t choosing one environment over another. He was opting for her, for Angie .
For as long as he’d known her, Angie had had this way of making his world feel right. Of calming his worries, smoothing his troubles. She could read his moods in an instant and transform the worst day into one that had him laughing so hard tears streamed down his cheeks. She knew him, in ways no one else ever had, and he suspected, ever would.
She pulled open the door and he thought she’d never looked sexier, with her hair tumbling around her shoulders, an old T-shirt of his knotted at her waist, and a pair of baggy pale pink sweats that dipped to expose her bellybutton. Her mouth opened in a little O of surprise and something flipped deep inside him. "Max."
He started to speak, to try to explain why he was here in the middle of the night, and why he thought they shouldn’t kiss again. But all those reasons disappeared when he opened his mouth. "I, uh, wanted to—"
She raised her hand, and leaned forward, no, swayed really, which told him she’d been drinking. She placed a finger on his lips and her eyes met his with a devilish gleam. A gleam he knew well. Rum. Probably mixed with Coke. "Shhh. Don’t say anything. I promised myself that I would say this to you. As soon, as soon as…as possible."
All her s sounds came out with a sh . Okay, drinking a lot . "Angie—"
She pressed harder on his lips, then her gaze sharpened, and she drew in a deep breath. "Max Blackwell, I am in love with you."
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup butter
3/4 cup sugar
2 tablespoons water
1 (12 ounce) package semi-sweet chocolate chips, divided
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
1/2 cup nuts, chopped, optional
You need some serious chocolate fortitude right
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