The Right Fit

Chapter 16

Maxine sighed and nearly fainted in his arms as his mouth molded with hers, nudging her to open wider. There was a sensual tease to the way his tongue slipped leisurely along hers. Even with the memory of their first encounter still fresh in her mind, this kiss was different. He’d sought her out, offering flowers and now instead of a dark club or the shadows of her apartment, he was kissing her in the daylight.

Now that her earlier hesitation had been resolved, any lingering doubt was eroded by the feeling of his hands in her hair as he whispered her name between kisses.

Second chance. The nail polish never lies. Antony Laurent, the amazing sexy French/Greek lumberjack, tow truck operator, and rescuer of stranded motorists was her rebound.

It was like turning a page, or wiping a slate clean, with nothing but opportunity ahead of her. Maxine wanted to crawl inside his mouth, taste all of him. She couldn’t get close enough, the ache deep inside her couldn’t be satisfied with just a kiss. What was she waiting for? Certainly not those last thirty pounds!

He moaned from the back of his throat as she unbuttoned his jacket, letting her palm flatten against the warmth of his shirt. His tongue was hard now, thrusting, dominating. He kissed her back with a fervor that rivaled her own near panicking desire, and it felt so amazingly good.

He stood and pulled her up with him. “Not here,” he said, his tone was urgent. “Your place?”

But Maxine felt invincible, like she could have anything she wanted. Ignoring his confused expression, she stepped backward. The heel of her boot nudged the cold stone wall, she leaned against it, then unbuttoned her coat and looked him dead in the eye. “How do you say, come here, in French?” she asked.

“Viens ici,” he said, staring at the hem of her herringbone skirt.

Maxine widened her stance then crooked her finger at him. She lowered her voice to what she hoped was a sexy purr. “Viens ici,” she beckoned.

He tucked into her, leaving a trail of kisses in a perfect line from her jaw to her ear.

“Je suis à votre merci,” he said. The vibration against her earlobe sent tingles all the way to the pulse between her legs. “I am at your mercy.” His hands were under her black sweater set now, reaching around to unfasten her bra. Maxine arched her back, letting his hands work the clasps. Still under the cover of the sweater, his hands moved to the front, cupping each breast. “Mmmaxine.” His voice was heavy, teasing, as his thumbs rubbed over her hard nipples.

With an eagerness that made her dizzy, she took one of his hands and guided it downward; her skirt had ridden up, bunched at the front.

“Mon Dieu.” He sighed. “You’re sexy as hell.”

His French accent somehow made this the most gallant sounding comment. And in that moment, Maxine felt as sexy as hell. She crushed her lips against his, an intensity rushed through her veins.

And that’s when she heard the laughter.

Moving apart like they’d been shot with electricity, Maxine managed to clasp her coat closed just as the first of a group of the elementary school aged children, loaded down with backpacks and snow gear, ran through the area.

Antony took her by the hand, the paper bag already tucked under his arm. With their heads down and into the wind, they returned to his car.

Maxine’s pulse thumped in her throat as she leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes, ice pellets started to hit the windows. She’d never been so mortified in her life. Even though no one saw anything, she was almost caught having sex by a bunch of little kids…outside…with someone she only met a few days ago.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have taken you someplace more private.” A dimple appeared. “I thought we would only have burrito. Not…”

“It’s okay. I started it. It’s my fault.” “Your hair,” he said. “It’s wet.”

Maxine was hardly worried about her hair. She was more concerned about the risks she was taking. What was it about Antony that had this affect over her?

“There’s napkins,” he said, pointing to the glove compartment.

“Just take me home, please,” she said.

Antony started the car. They wordlessly traveled down Yonge Street. He hadn’t bothered to put on the radio this time. Maxine stared at the toes of her boots. A small trail of melted snow ran from her hair down the front of her coat.

The car stopped at a red light. “Can I get your number?” he asked, his voice was cautious.

In a daze, she reached inside the glove compartment, found some paper napkins, and blotted the ends of her hair. Then she saw a paperback, stiff and wrinkled. “I just bought this same book.”

A car horn honked behind them. Antony watched her carefully with lines etched in his forehead. “I found it,” he answered. Then he faced forward, driving with the traffic again.

She smiled, despite feeling overwhelmed. “That’s so peculiar. I lost one just like this—” Her words stopped short. Maxine pulled out the receipt. Her hands started to shake. “This is my book.”

The car stopped again. Another red light. She eyed the door handle, wondering if she should jump out now. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Depends on who you ask,” he said, half- chuckling. Then he grew solemn. “I went for jog last week in the park, I saw you on the bench. When I came around next time you were gone.”

Her eyes grew wide. “You’re the runner! I remember you!”

He smiled then put his attention back on driving. Maxine kept the book in her lap the rest of the way home.

She finally asked, “Did you follow me to the bar that night?”

“Non.”

“Did you bump into me on purpose?” “Non.”

Maxine smoothed her hand over the book. “So this is all just coincidence?”

“It is what it is.” He pulled over and parked outside her apartment building.

The next time she spoke her voice was soft, regretful. “I’m wondering if you have an unclear image of who I really am. Taking guys home from bars and making out in public…well, that’s not really me. I’ve never acted like that in my life so if you think—”

“Me neither,” he interrupted. Then he gave her an open grin that bordered on mischievousness. “But maybe nail polish knows?”

Maxine worked hard at not returning the smile. “What is this then, this thing that’s happening between us?”

He pointed to her pink nails. “A second chance.”