TRAILING TRISHA - A Black Hounds Motorcycle Club Romance (The Fox and the Hounds Book #2) (18 page)

With Max gone for the moment, I made myself at home. There was a fireplace in the living room which Max had encouraged me to use. He had even set it up so I just need to add more wood even fire started to die. Using the nearby poker, I gingerly poked the log, which warmed up the room. Fearful of burning the place down, I didn’t dare add any more wood to the fire.

Taking off my wet clothes, I stripped down to my shirt and panties. I didn’t plan on dressing so immodestly but my spare clothing was in my car. There would be time to change later. Nonetheless, Max would probably think I was trying to seduce him.

I noticed a few photos on the mantelpiece. Many of them were of a beautiful young woman who had to be Maria. There were also a few of the couple with their son, Michael. His son must have been as young as two years old in those photos. I didn’t see any signs of him in the house. Whatever tragedy had killed his wife must have claimed his son as well.

I heard the front door open and the howl of wind. The sound of Max’s footsteps soon followed. Thankfully, he had carried in some of my belongings with him.

“I pulled your car into the garage,” Max said, handing me my keys. He took a moment to glance at my clothes. Or lack thereof. I blushed but my host continued. “I got some of your luggage with me in case you need a change of clothes.”

“Thanks,” I said, turning flush. “I don’t suppose you’re hungry.”

Max’s eyes narrowed at my exposed skin. However, it was a look of concern rather than lust. He pointed to a scar on my shoulder. “What happened here?”

“Old bruise from a bicycle accident,” I lied. “You hungry?”

“I am starving actually,” he replied. Max went over to one his grocery bags and rummaged through it. “It’s nothing too fancy but I have mac n’ cheese, ramen packets, some granola bars, and a few other things.”

“Actually, I’d like to cook a meal if you don’t mind,” I replied, shuffling through another bag of groceries. Most of it was packaged foods but there were some fresh vegetables and other produce. There was even a package of whole chickens. He must have gotten them from a local farm. “I think I can cook us a real meal if you’re interested.”

He stroked his chin in interest. It seemed as though he gone a long time without a home cooked meal. “I wouldn’t mind but you’ll have to use a woodstove to cook it.”

I nodded. “I can deal with that.”

I went to work straight away. Max heated up the stove and got some cooking utensils for me. After chopping up some vegetables, I ripped open the packages of noodles and tossed away those small packets of flavoring powder.

Max raised an eyebrow in concern. It must have been the unsophisticated bachelor in him. “You’re tossing the powder?”

“It’s the noodles I want,” I answered. “The power is basically flavored salt. I’m going to add some real flavor to the noodles.”

I cooked a vegetable and chicken broth base for the noodles. I tossed in some vegetables as toppings for the dish. Waiting until the taste was just right, I added in the noodles at the last minute. This would keep them from overcooking and becoming rubbery. When I was satisfied, I finally served us to bowls of soup and noodles.

“Bon appetite,” I said proudly, placing the bowl in front of Max. “How is it? Go on, be honest.”

He took a sip before slurping down some noodles. “Damn, that’s good.”

I smiled at his praise. Cooking for him was the least I could for him. After all, he had basically saved my life.

As we ate, the two of us talked about his house. It certainly looked strong enough to withstand a blizzard. Indeed, Max had made sure to seal any openings in order to keep the snow out. He had also added in some insulation before winter to further protect the house from the cold.

Nonetheless, Max seemed more concerned about food rather than shelter. There was a small garden Maria had maintained for some small produce. However, it had fallen into disuse after her death. The cold prevented Max from even attempting to restart it. Without venturing out to resupply, we only had enough food to last us a couple of weeks. Hopefully, it ended before we came to such a point.

It felt strange referring to this struggle as ‘we’ when it was Max’s house. Then again, we were in this together. I intended to help Max as much as possible.

“Your house is beautiful,” I mused. We had finished our meals and kept on talking. “My apartment is just terrible. The walls have cracks. The carpet is matted. There doesn’t need to be a blizzard raging outside for you to feel cold in there. This place feels like a mansion in comparison.”

Max took our bowls and brought them to the sink. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

He gave a tour of his rather spacious house. There were three bedrooms. One was his and the other was meant for guests. I guessed the last one had been for his infant son.

The place also had two bathrooms, a storage room, and a pair of dens. The kitchen had a pantry full of both preserved and fresh ingredients. Max was thankful I was there to make better use of them than he ever could.

When we reached the second floor, I got a good look outside through a window. “Damn, it’s practically an avalanche outside. I think it’s almost up to three feet of snow.”

“It’s worse than I expected,” Max agreed. “Maria and I had been through a lot of storms together but nothing this ferocious.”

I confidently tapped the wall with my knuckles. “Well, you certainly made a house that could withstand the test of time. The two of you must have had some adventures together in these parts.”

He gave me a bittersweet smile. “I wish she had lived long enough for us to tell you about them together…”

I wanted to slap myself. “Sorry, I keep saying stupid stuff.”

He looked over my shoulder at a family photo. In it, Max leaned against his motorcycle with Maria beside him. She held his child who looked to only a few months old. “It’s alright, Emily. We might as well get to know each other better on the count of us being stuck together for God knows how long. You should know why I live by myself.”

I stared at that photo his lost loved ones. “What happened, Max?”

“There was an accident eight months ago,” he said with a sigh. “I got that call every man dreads from the police. At first, I thought it was one of the Black Cobras. I thought they had put out a hit on us for revenge. However, I had heard they had disbanded after our raid with most of their members getting arrested by the Feds. It couldn’t have been them.”

“Who was it?”

“Some rich stock broker driving way past the speed limit,” he answered, bitterness evident in his voice. His skin had turned pale. “That man had come here for a party with a few escorts while billing it to his company. He was high on cocaine and a dozen other drugs when he crashed straight into Maria’s car. He got lucky and only sprained his neck but my family wasn’t as lucky.”

“I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, rage flared up on his handsome face. “The thing was… they were still alive after collisions. That man took my son when he was days away from his third birthday!”

“Oh my God!”

“That man left my family to bleed out in the wreckage,” he continued, agony clouding his grey eyes. “The police found him running from the crash. He was on probation and worried about ending up in jail. If he had the balls to go out and help them, I’d still have my family. I’d still have Maria and Michael…”

It was a gut-churning account of the tragedy. I had never meet Maria or Michael but it hurt to know that they were gone from this world. Max’s lips quivered as if the pain of the past engulfed him with all of his horror.

Yet, I saw the color soon return to his face. There was a look in his eyes that could best be called relief. He must have gone for months without someone to talk to about his feelings. It must have been terrible to keep it hidden in his heart.

I reached out to hold his hand in mine. “Thank you for tell me this, Max.”

Soon, it turned into a hug. I felt his strong arms embrace me. His chest was hard like the armor of a medieval knight. His face, however, became soft as he pressed his cheek against my head. I didn’t know whether it was for telling me about his grief or saving me. All I knew was that he had exposed a very vulnerable part of himself for me.

Suddenly, we heard a loud metallic sound from below. Although I was puzzled, Max immediately knew what caused it. “Must be one of the power generators. Thank God I kept a backup as a failsafe.”

I shot him a look of concern. “Will we be okay?”

He shrugged. “For now, we should be fine except for a risk of some brownouts. I’d still like to have a backup generator running in case of an emergency. Some of the plumbing here is powered by the generators. However, the spares are stuck in the shed.”

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable having you go outside lug around a heavy generator through the snow.”

Max nodded in agreement. “I’d prefer not to go out there again if I can help it. We do have some fallbacks in case we run out of power. I have an icebox for storing food. The stove runs on firewood. I can also set it up for propane in a pinch.”

“How much fuel do you have left for the generators?”

“Outside of a mechanical failure,” he began, stroking his chin in deep thought. “I’d say about a couple of weeks. We could ration if it comes down to the wire. I hope you don’t mind using candles.”

I giggled. “A girl like me loves candlelit dinners.”

We went downstairs and made the necessary preparations. We put the fresh food in the icebox. We kept most of the other stuff in the pantry where it would be safe. If need be, we could move the icebox to the garage and let nature give us a hand.

“Speaking of the garage,” I said, taking a count of how much food we had. “How is my car?”

He looked grim. “It should run but I don’t recommend driving it any time soon. The tires took a beating going through the ice. These roads go through city tires like a knife slicing hot butter.”

“I just got them changed,” I sighed. “Well, we could siphon off the gas in the tank if you need it. It’ll actually go to good use.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

After a long and difficult day, I feel asleep on the couch. Max had prepared the guest room for me but I was too tired to go there. During my sleep, I dreamt of Max.

He looked so gorgeous in my visions. The laughter had returned to his cheeks. His eyes had lost their visage of sorrow. It was as if he had never lost his family.

Max had this irresistible bad boy look to him that would make James Dean proud. His dark hair was windswept as if used to a gust of wind more than the blast air from a dryer. His intimidating appearance hid the dedicated family man behind the imposing leather jacket.

I couldn’t help but feel safe in his presence. It wasn’t just his tall, well-built body. The man simply gave a damn. He risked his neck to haul me out of the snow. I would be forever indebted to him.

I woke up and found myself draped in a warm woolen blanket. Max must have placed it on me after I dozed off. After stretching, I got up and searched for him.