Chapter Eight Max & Amanda
A few hours after the parade, Amanda sat cross-legged on the bed, rubbing lotion on her hands and elbows. Max was taking a quick shower. They’d eaten dinner and now they were planning on having some adult dessert, since they were still child- and Greg-free.
Make hay while the sun shines was the saying. Amanda was ready to start baling that hay.
She smiled when she heard the water shut off. A few minutes later, her sexy husband opened the bathroom door and stepped out completely naked, his dark hair tousled and damp with his eyes focused on her.
Holy shit, he could still make her all tingly. How did she get to be so damn lucky?
He stopped just on the bedroom side of the open doorway, a wrapped gift box covering his junk.
“What’s that?” she asked innocently.
“I’m not sure. When I got out of the shower, it was on the counter.”
“Huh. Did it magically appear?”
“Well, it wasn’t there when I got in the shower. Do you think Christmas elves left it?”
“Could have been a burglar,” she suggested.
“A robber,” he corrected her.
“I thought a robber stole things.”
“You did. You stole my heart.”
“Max!” she yelled, slapping her hands on the bed and feeling a sting in her nose and eyes. “That was so unfair.”
He moved closer to the bed, still keeping the box in front of his nether region. He grinned crookedly. “How is that unfair?”
She sniffled. “Because it’s Christmas Eve and you’re going to make me cry. Get in this bed and open your gift.”
He climbed into bed, leaning his bare back against the headboard, setting the box in his lap.
“Well?”
“Take off the lid for me,” he ordered in his deep rumble.
“Oh, did you poke a hole in the box and put your dick in it?”
“Would I do that?” he asked.
“Of course you would, pervert.”
“Well, I didn’t. And I’m no more perverted than you.”
That was true. “I don’t trust you.”
“Well, you’re getting my dick tonight whether it’s in the box or not.”
“Stop screwing around and open it so you can feel guilty if your dick is the only gift you got me.”
He lifted the lid and stared down into it. She held her breath until he lifted his ice blue eyes, which were anything but cold at the moment.
He pulled the photos out one by one and whistled softly. “Jesus, baby, you really know how to give a man a hard-on.”
“Not any man, just you.”
“Well, of course. No other man better be seeing these.”
“Just the photographer.”
He stared at one of the more risqué pictures, then narrowed his eyes on her. “What?”
“The photographer, of course.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “The photographer was a man?”
His jealousy was so cute. “Yes.”
Max’s eyebrows shot up his head.
“A gay man.”
Those dark eyebrows dropped back to their normal height. “He’d better be.”
Amanda laughed. “Do you like them?”
“Fuck yes,” he whispered, pulling the rest from the box and taking his time to peruse each one.
She’d done a sexy boudoir shoot, not knowing what else to get the man who wasn’t much into material things.
“You’ll have to hide them from the kids, of course,” she added.
“I’m framing these and putting them all over my office at the station.”
“What?”
“Just kidding. Didn’t you just hear me say no other man is seeing you like that?”
“That’s not everything, check under the tissue paper.”
He glanced at her. “A new sex toy?” he asked hopefully.
Now she regretted not ordering the sex toy she’d been eyeing up. “Just look.”
He laid the photos on the bed next to his hip and she could see he was having a tough time pulling his focus from them back to the box. He pulled back the tissue paper and pulled out a small black velvet box. He glanced at her again. “What’s this?”
“Just open it!” Her heart was pounding, hoping he loved it.
He cracked the lid open and hesitated for a second before pulling out the wedding band.
He wore a plain gold band now and she wanted to give him something nicer. Something with meaning.
The ring was made of tungsten and the blue brush-finished center that encircled the ring was fitting for someone so dedicated to his career in law enforcement. The ring had caught her eye and she knew it would be perfect for her husband. While he was not into jewelry, she knew he’d appreciate this piece.
“Look inside the band,” she urged.
His nostrils flared a little as he tilted the ring and read what she had the jeweler engrave on the inside. One side had the first names and birthdates of their children. The words were tiny but he’d made them fit.
He looked at her again. “Where’s your name?”
“Turn it.” On the other side of the band, she had the jeweler engrave: You’re stuck with us ~ A. Thankfully, her husband had big hands and needed a wide band.
“That I am,” he said, his voice rough. He worked the plain gold band off his ring finger and replaced it with the new one. After staring at it for a few seconds, he carefully collected the photos and put them on the nightstand along with the box.
Her husband sat there quietly, staring at those items, his fingers curled against his naked thighs. He was not normally an emotional man, but Amanda could see he was struggling.
She reached out and grabbed his hand, interlaced their fingers and decided to help him by changing the subject. “Where’s Chaos?” She was proud of herself when she managed not to sound choked up.
She could see the relief in his eyes when he finally looked at her, and loved that her gift affected him so much. He was so hard to shop for.
“Lying by the fire, warming up his old bones,” he answered finally.
“Did you make all the arrangements?”
“I always do everything my wife asks me to do.”
Amanda snorted softly. “So, that means you didn’t.”
“No, I did.”
“Then, where is she?”
“We’re picking her up from the foster home tomorrow morning on the way.”
She squeezed his hand. “He’s going
