Page 81 of Catching Trouble

When he didn’t answer, I brought my hands to his waist, closing my fingers around his skin.

The instant I made contact; he opened his eyes.

I smiled. “Tell me. What’s going on? The evening’s going great. The food’s been delicious, and I’m pretty sure Luc has a bro-crush on you. He asked me where you got your tats. I think he’s planning a full sleeve. Don’t worry—imitation is the sincerest form of man-flirting.”

Maxime blew a breath out of his nose. “No, he’s not.”

“No, I made that up. He’s planning a tramp stamp instead.” I rubbed Maxime’s trousers just above his buttock and the edges of his lips rose.

“That’s better. Now, let’s start again. What’s going on? Why are you still out here when your shirt’s no longer scandalous?”

He shook his head slowly, bringing his hands to my elbows. “I hate relying on other people. But the reality is hitting hard. Méduse has to work. If Luc walks, I’m back to patching bikes and fishing to get by. And Valerie? She’d have an excuse to cut my time with Sophie even more.”

As his eyes widened, my heart stuttered. I’d never seen him so vulnerable. He was larger than life in so many ways, but right now, he was like anyone else—frightened.

With a breath, I moved to my tiptoes. Leaning in, I laid a kiss on his cheek. “Look, Luc isn’t some cutthroat investor. He’s a nice guy. He single-handedly rescued Iris’s cat from a hostage situation. That means he’s human. He’ll see your heart and your passion.”

I didn’t like to point out that he also had more than enough money to finance a thousand clubs. Any losses Méduse incurred would be a drop in the ocean. But this wasn’t about money for Maxime. It was about pride and self-respect. From what he’d told me, he’d had little of either growing up.

He shifted, and the scent of his cologne filled my senses. I breathed him in, and an unnatural urge to touch him overtook my body.Who was I to argue?

I slowly drew my hands from his waist to his chest. Resting my palms on either side of his sternum, I pressed my ear against his heart. Its steady beat kept time with mine and when he kissed the top of my head, I traced my fingers down his chest, heading towards his waistband.

His heartbeat skipped against my ear, and Maxime released a breath, bringing his arms around me.

“Chloe,” he breathed.

“Mhm?”

“This isn’t what we agreed.”

Damn him for his attention to detail.

“I don’t know. It’s all so hazy,” I whispered, brushing the skin above his heart with my lips. “I have a memory like a sieve, so you can’t hold me responsible.”

I traced my fingers along the top of his waistband, and his breath mingled with mine as I looked up into his eyes. When I closed a hand around his tight buttock, his breath quickened.

“Chloe,” he said again, his voice tight.

“What?” I asked, my words almost as strained as his.

“Not here. It isn’t right.”

“Are you worried about our agreement? I don’t know if it’s worth mentioning, but I’d be open to a pause on conditions. Or I could grab a bowl of water from the kitchen—we could dip our toes in, just to satisfy treaty terms. Would that make it easier?”

I paused, rising onto my toes again. “Or maybe… you need something more.”

After a beat, he brought his forehead to meet mine, and a gentle breath left his lips.

“Oh! Pardon!”

Fifi’s voice crashed through the air behind us like a juggernaut and I dropped back down to my heels.

“I didn’t know… I wasn’t…” Her voice trailed off, and I spun around.

When I came to a stop, the very solid bulge inside Maxime’s trousers pressed against the top of my buttock. At the feel of him behind me, I sent a silent reprimand to Saint Augustine, patron saint of repentant sinners. He could’ve given us at least a few more minutes alone.

I plastered a breezy smile on my lips. “It’s okay. I was checking for… um…. Maxime had an insect bite. I was just checking to see if he needed help.”