Faking The Vows Pt 05

Chapter 18

Ava

When I fell asleep it was in such a state of satisfaction I didn't even care that I had crossed lines in my own mind. Max was incredible, and so was the sex. He made sure to treat me like a queen and I had never been more relaxed or giddy when it was all over with.

Now I lay in bed silently staring at him as he slept. His mouth hung open, drool cresting at the corner of his lip and I smiled. The typically put-together man with more money than I'd ever see in a lifetime was vulnerable and human just like me. It was a side of him I was sure he rarely--if ever--let anyone else see. Here I was getting to enjoy him in his natural state without fancy suits or bling to mask his appearance.

Sure the sheets were silk, and the mattress probably cost a zillion dollars. I forgot what generic toothpaste tasted like and my hair had never been softer--that shampoo had to have been salon quality. But beyond the luxury of living in his mansion with him or the lengths to-which he went to help me and make me feel comfortable, Max was genuinely a good man.

I thought of my mother, of her struggles. My father would order her around, forcing her to wait on him hand and foot. If she didn't do things fast enough he got angry. If she made simple mistakes or forgot things he got angry. When he drank he got violent. I remembered a time when they argued and I was around fourteen years old, just shortly before she'd had enough. She did something that enraged him and he smashed holes in the walls to prove his point. She pissed herself right in front of me.

Though I had fear of being cornered into a relationship like that, in my heart I knew Max wasn't that type of man. I knew if I told him I was packing up and leaving, and shifting the bill onto his shoulders, he wouldn't blink twice, and he'd let me go too. He would walk away with no qualms and I would be free.

That thought both encouraged me and gave me a bit of a wake-up call. I loved how easy it was to stand my ground with him. I assumed it was because he knew my past. I had told him everything after all. Maybe he was sensitive to the idea that I had to make all my own decisions and refused to be pressured into things. Or maybe he just didn't care.

That idea rattled me. That I could start falling for someone so easily who had zero intention of sticking around. If he'd let me walk out of his life without a single protest or fight, simply because I told him to not fall in love with me, did that prove he was considerate of my heart, or that he just played me and didn't care if I was here or not?

I sighed and pursed my lips and watched him begin to stir. In my waking moments over the last three weeks I'd had a few good conversations with him. He liked the Cardinals, watched NFL games every week when he could. He loved burgers and fries and hated pizza--who hates pizza!? And most of all, he felt like it was his duty in life to use the good fortune he'd made for himself to help others.

That made me feel lucky to have found his attention, and conflicted because I wanted to be so much more to him than a charity case. I hadn't even thought so much about it until after they said I had a set of lungs waiting on me. Then I realized Max was just a fixer. The idea had discouraged me from going to lunch with him before, but the closer we got, the more it put a seed of doubt in my head. I didn't want him to fix me and let me go like a bird with a broken wing now mended and returned to flight.

I'd be the stupid bird who stayed around in winter and froze to death while he nursed his next pigeon back to health and I had to watch it all through the window. I didn't know what would be worse, being a product of my father's influence and being treated like a slave by a man who tricked me into loving him or watching someone else have what I wanted.

I almost slid out of bed and went to the bathroom, but I noticed his eyes blinking and decided to wait. The bandage on my chest would need changed, and I wasn't quite able to do it myself yet. The saniderm let me bathe and kept the wound clean and dry, but it started to get itchy and uncomfortable after a while. I was tempted to just go without it too.

"Good morning," Max mewled as he took in the sight of me next to him in bed. It was my bed--well, his bed I was borrowing while pretending to be his wife. But he looked happy enough to share it with me. Of course he was, I fucked him and that made the past seven months of him begging to be with me worth it.

"Good morning," I said, and I felt conflicted. I had done what I never intended to do. Kelsey pushed me toward him and I gave in to some powerful temptation. What woman in her right mind wouldn't be tempted with Max and his millions? And I swore I was stronger than this. I wouldn't be swayed by his money or power or charm. But he was so charming and so caring.

"Sleep okay?" he asked, and again proved he did care about my heart. Meanwhile I was painting him in my head like a total jerk of a man and that wasn't fair.

I sighed, and closed my eyes, unwilling to let my tortured soul speak. "My chest hurts a little," I admitted and he touched my face.

"What's wrong?" His thumb pressed on my chin and his fingers brushed the underside of my jaw. I opened my eyes and looked into his and frowned.

"I'm sorry about last night. I crossed a line and I shouldn't have. I didn't mean to lead you on." When this was all over, I had to leave. I had to go back to my own little world where I was the poor barista who served coffee to bitchy, caffeine addicts who demanded faster service. I had to live in a dumpy little apartment, not this life of luxury, and I had to forget the millionaire who was offering me a life of ease. I had to be my own person and not be trapped into a life like my mom.

Dad was never rich. It was never the money he lorded over her. It was her own affection for him. She just never said no to him because she believed she could change him. I didn't think for a second I could change max, and I didn't care about his money. I just wanted a love I knew was genuine. Not someone who thought they could buy me with their millions and their knight in shining armor approach.

"Hey, I'm okay. You asked me for something I could provide you and I hope I did an adequate job." His face was so serious, so solemn. I could see the emotional pain in his eyes. He wanted so much more, though I couldn't judge his motives. I had no way of knowing why he wanted more, or how much more, or when he'd just dispose of me.

"Are you kidding me?" I said, smiling without trying. "That thing you did with your tongue...Holy fuck."

Max chuckled and his hand left my face. I instantly wanted him to put it back. His touch was comforting. I bit my lip and stopped the tremble in it, and shrugged one shoulder, which made me wince. My chest felt like someone had just cut me open again. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling waiting for the pain to pass.

"Hurts, huh?" Max scooted closer and rested his hand on my stomach, and I folded the sheet down.

My chest was exposed to him, though I wasn't shy about it. Not only had he seen it before a few times, but we had sex last night. That's about as intimate as anyone could be with anyone. There were dots of blood on the dressing under the saniderm and I winced at them.

"Let me go get the stuff to get you fixed up. The nurse will be here later to check, but you should have that clean. Old blood just sitting against your incision site is an infection risk." Max climbed out of bed and my eyes trailed his movements.

His ass was perfect, round and firm and tight. He bent over in front of me, finding his boxers on the ground, and my god I thought my heart would choke me it leaped up into my throat so high. I knew it wasn't good for my recovery to get worked up like that, but how was I supposed to resist him? Even my groin reacted to how hot he was, warming to the temperature of the refinery across town.

"Fuck you have such a nice ass," I said without thinking, and he smirked at me over his shoulder as he pulled his boxers up.

"I recall the feeling of yours in the palm of my hands..." He turned to face me and the heat from my pussy rushed to my face. "Remember, don't fall in love with me." I knew he meant it as a joke, but I took it as a warning in the strictest sense of the word.

He left to get the stuff, and I lay in bed beating myself up. I was fucking falling for him and I hated myself for it. What sort of woman was I? Yes, I was getting to know him and I knew more about him now than I had when he first started asking me on lunch or dinner dates, but the places I had allowed him to lead me--or Kelsey to push me--were testing the boundaries I'd established in my life years ago. I didn't know who I was anymore.

When Max came back, I lay in silence as he peeled the old cover off, then removed the bandage and cleaned things. He muttered something about the incision looking like a mild infection, then spread the antibiotic cream on it and covered it back up. The entire time, his eyes never strayed to my breasts, though they were only inches away. He was so respectful, even when he had no reason to be.

And when he was picking up the trash, ready to go throw it away, I caught his wrist. He sat on the bed next to me as I lay there half exposed and I knew I had to address what happened.

"Max, I can't stay here." My own heart was rebelling against my words, but it was for his own good that I said these things. He'd be hurt if he allowed me to lead him on. "I'm going to recover and I'm going to go back to my life. I'm going to divorce you and we are going to go back to the way things were. Sex or no sex..." Wrestling with my desires was the hardest thing I had to do, but I couldn't let them snare me.

"I understand, Ava." Max didn't even flinch. There wasn't a wrinkle on his face, not a foul look, no fire in his eyes, no slump of his shoulders. He might as well have been a robot, except for the deep compassion he had when he looked at me. It unnerved me but was comforting at the same time. "I promised you I wouldn't fall in love, and I meant that. I want to honor your desire."

"But the sex," I mumbled, betraying myself. He was supposed to be upset or something. Not this.

"Ava, I'm happy to provide you all of the benefits of being married to me, if that's what you want." My god this man was so fucking incredible. And how would he do it when I left then? Give me all this and not get attached to me, then let me leave and feel nothing? Was there something wrong with him? Was he a sociopath?

Then I understood it.

The reason he could do this was because he actually loved me. Like--the kind of love that is so selfless they write poems about it. It's hailed in literature and history. The kind that inspired the writer of Corinthians to deem love as selfless and humble and kind. Never thinking of itself. Never boasting. Max loved me that much, and it would be that way whether I wanted him to or not. I couldn't make him stop, and he'd never admit to it, because he wanted to honor me.

"Alright," I whispered, but I didn't know what I was saying.

I wanted that love, but not at the cost of losing myself.

He stood and walked away to throw out the trash and I turned on my side and stared at the wall. And I knew, when I walked away, it wasn't going to be him who was hurting. He was doing this all for me. Every last bit of it he was doing only for me, getting nothing out of it, because that's what love was supposed to be.

I was the one who was going to be destroyed by this.

I didn't know what to think about that.

Chapter 19

Max

Four weeks into this whole thing with Ava, exactly one week after she'd been back at my place to recover, I walked into my office. I was out of place and a little grumpy to be dragged away from her side, but the endless calls and lectures from my father weren't going to go away. I wasn't the CEO or even the COO. I didn't get involved in day-to-day shit, but as the owner, I understood there were people watching. My board, for instance, who had called in a meeting to discuss my fitness to run the company.

I'd pay them all off, the way I had multiple times before, and they'd shut up, but I hated doing that. It was so unethical and unlike me. But this was my baby, homegrown by my own blood sweat and tears. Even if other people ran it, and they did all the work--which I paid them handsomely for--it was still mine.

My tie wasn't tied tightly, my suit coat unbuttoned. I found them uncomfortable after having lounged in jeans and polo shirts for so long. I used to love the feel of the tailored power suit and tie. Used to soak in the admiration I got when I walked through the open office and all my staff ogled me or chomped at the bit to get a shred of my attention. It was encouraging, though part of me knew it was just my ego being stroked. Like the way people lavished me in thanksgiving for helping them. That feeling never got old.

But lately all of that seemed to pale in comparison with what I really wanted. Ava's attention and interaction with her seemed to dwarf any other attention I received. So much so that it was telling. I realized how much I actually had enjoyed the praise and worship of people who knew I had money and it made me question myself for the first time ever. I had been so overly confident in my ability to reach down to a lower economic class and elevate them, I had given myself godlike status in their perception, and it disgusted me.

Now all I wanted was the genuine love of one woman, one woman who reminded me--and I her--countless times to never fall in love.

"Well it's about fucking time." Foreman sat in my chair at my desk in my office and I scowled at him. He had his own, very nice office I might add, and had no business in here. He might have been my best friend, but he wasn't the owner of this firm.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked, loosening my tie farther and strolling right over to my desk.

He vacated the chair immediately and I noticed the accounts screen on my computer, with the Reinhart account up in front. Of course he was only working on business items, but the breach of privacy was frustrating.

"You haven't been around, dude. We can't just do this without you. I've had to make decisions that were supposed to require your consent, while you're busy playing wet-nurse to a gold-digger." Foreman butted his coat and walked to the window, but he shook his head in disdain.

My decision to defend Ava wasn't even optional. Foreman and my parents knew nothing about her. I'd seen the way he looked at her when we signed the marriage contract and I wasn't happy about that.

"She isn't a gold digger and if you call her that again, you're fired." I sat at my desk, taking my place of authority and looked over the stack of mail left for me for weeks now. My secretary hadn't even opened a shred of it and now I had that, plus probably a hundred or more emails to go through.

"You can't fire me. You have to have board approval." He scoffed and turned toward me, putting his back to the view of the city I had almost memorized. "Plus you're my best friend. You're not going to do that." He coolly slid his hands into his pockets and stood with his chin jutted out and his chest puffed up.

"I can pay the board anything they want, to do whatever I want, and I can make a new friend." My glare at him made him scowl again. His cockiness was misplaced. "Don't push me."

Foreman walked back over to my desk and sat down in one of the leather armchairs and unbuttoned his coat. It wasn't the first time we'd come to a stalemate in a dispute and it wouldn't be the last but he was right. I'd never just fire him. And he was my best friend, the only one I knew I could trust because he was with me before all this wealth exploded in my lap. Though, my parents' money might have played a part in that, but he came from money too. He didn't need mine.

"I'm concerned about you, Max. I've never seen you get so distracted by someone or a project you were working on. This is going on way too long." He crossed a leg over his knee and rested a hand on his ankle, over his argyle socks, and was clearly unintimidated by my threat. He knew me too well.

"Am I supposed to just let a transplant patient return to her horrible living conditions only to get an infection or die of a rejected organ while I could have been watching her?" I spoke as if she meant nothing to me, distancing myself from the equation as much as possible. He didn't need to know how much I'd grown to love her. That would only make his argument worse.

"I'm suggesting it was an extreme move for you to marry the woman just to get her on your insurance. You could have just paid the hospital anonymously and told them to fake some scholarship or something." While his suggestion made sense, there wasn't even a second where it had crossed my mind as an idea. I wanted to be neck deep in this. because I wanted Ava to know I wanted her.

Then the whole thing got out of control with her "one condition," and I'd been left in limbo anyway. It was frustrating as hell but loving her meant supporting her and caring about her in every way, even if I didn't like it.

"I'm suggesting you keep your nose out of it and worry about doing your job here. I know you're my friend, but I wouldn't tell you who to love or how to spend your money." My eyes narrowed on him and for the first time in our friendship I considered actually booting him from my office.

I didn't know what it was with people who thought they knew better than me telling me what to do. Not only was I capable of running my life and my business how I wanted to, but I had never asked my friends, employees, or family for advice on what to do. And I didn't want their input.

"When it affects your business and my job, I feel I have a right to get involved. You're acting foolish, Max." Foreman stood and I did too, squaring my shoulders.

"Get out of my office, now." I felt myself growing quickly out of control, my temper flaring in ways I hadn't felt in years.

"Max, don't do this." He cocked his head and I would've liked to smack it off his shoulders.

"Out, now. Or you're fired." I pointed at the door and he shook his head and turned and stormed out.

My personal life was none of his business. Had Ava been a woman I fell in love with and married the conventional way, everyone would have told me to take as long as I needed before coming back. They'd have expected me to run to her and support her. This was bullshit. I didn't care if she was just someone I was helping in their eyes. To me she was my priority, and I had no plans to change that.

I sank into my chair, infuriated and shaking, and tried to calm down. If I'd have known my return to work would be this dramatic, I'd have stayed away a few more days or caught up via Skype. Foreman was on thin ice as far as I was concerned.

When all my attempts to focus on work and calm myself failed, I decided the only thing I could do was call Ava. I dialed my home number and waited for Sarah to answer, and when she picked up I had her transfer me to Ava's room and waited for them to let Ava know I had called. Before she even picked up I was smiling at the thought of hearing her voice.

"Hey, Max, what's up?" Ava sounded happy, but tired. When I left her only an hour ago she mentioned wanting to sit on the patio out back and watch the hummingbirds. I encouraged her to take it easy but offered her my binoculars for birdwatching, another hobby we had in common.

"I just thought of you. You know my best friend was in here and we had a conversation about you and I had a thought..." I didn't need to tell her I kicked him out under duress.

"What's that?" I pictured her curled up on the bed with the phone to her ear, waiting for me to take her breath away.