Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

I went upstairs with the three cans of chickpeas in my arms, prepared to cross the hall into Tennessee with my booty if Max had decided to sleep in Ozzie's apartment, but I saw a light under my bedroom door, so I went in there.

Max was in my bed, his arms behind his head, looking relaxed. And naked. I mean, I suppose he could have had boxers on under the covers, but that would've been very un-Max-like since he didn't tend to wear underwear in general. He was looking pretty good for a man who'd had such a tough day.

He looked at my hands. "Chickpeas?"

"Yeah."

"Kinky sex with chickpeas? I'm not familiar, but I'm open. You're going to have to talk me through it."

I put the cans on the bedside table and shoved off my yoga pants.

Max lost interest in the chickpeas.

"One thing we need to consider . . ." I said as I stripped off my tee.

Max definitely looked like he was considering something.

". . . is that Ozzie never did anything the usual, sane way." I pulled back the covers and slid in beside Max.

He was definitely naked. And now so was I.

"Interesting," he said, reaching for me. "Let's discuss it tomorrow."

"Tonight, I think." I pulled the comforter up over my breasts so he could concentrate.

He stopped and looked at me and then sat back. "What happened?"

"Well, I was thinking about Oz and where he might hide more money. And I was thinking he was disguised as a cranky old secondhand store owner although he was really an experienced and lethal agent. And the box full of money I found was disguised as a book but was really a money cache."

Max looked at the cans of chickpeas he'd moved in the past three weeks to get at the ammo behind them. "You're kidding me. So the cans have nothing to do with kinky sex?"

He seemed disappointed, and I didn't want to ask what he could possibly have imagined we would do with chickpeas.

The money had also reminded me of something important Max needed to know. I held up a finger. "Before we get to the chickpeas, there's something I have to tell you."

He looked disappointed.

"I was talking with Betty today after we went through Melissa's place and she told me something. A secret Melissa had."

Max frowned. "What?"

"Betty said Melissa was still doing jobs. Freelancing. For money."

"Fuck," Max muttered. "That could be the reason she was killed. We had Sid dealing coke and now Melissa doing wet work."

"The question is," I said, "is anyone else in town still working?"

"It's not like they're going to advertise it," Max said. "The good thing is, in a way, if they brought it on themselves by breaking the rules, then maybe it's over."

"That would be optimistic," I said.

"Yeah," Max said. "Probably not."

I handed him the can I'd opened, and the lid fell off.

He looked at the wad of cash inside. "How much?"

"I don't know. I was alone in a kitchen with windows on an alley and I did not want to count it alone, especially since I had a lethal boyfriend upstairs."

"Yeah, remember that and stop flirting with that Rowan guy." He was looking at the money. "It's in all three cans?"

"I don't know," I said. "I was alone in a kitchen?—"

"Right, right," he said. "Did you bring a can opener?"

"The lids are just stuck on with wax. You can pry them open."

"Okay. You want to open them and count them in the morning?"

I blinked at him. "In the morning? Those cans could be full of money. That one can is full of money. Why would we wait?"

"Because we're naked? My thoughts are not about money, Rose. Besides, I'm willing to bet it will total fifty thousand. Ozzie seems to have had a thing for that number."

I picked up a second can from the bedside table, pried open the lid, looked inside, and handed it to him.

He looked at the roll of bills inside and sighed.

When I opened the third can, more money, he took it from me and put it on his bedside table with the other two.

"We're really not going to count it?" I said as he reached for me.

"In the morning. There'll be more light. You want me to go blind?" He pulled me down on top of him and kissed me, and I remembered there were more things in life than money in chickpea cans, and that one of the good ones was hot under me with his hands on my ass, hands that might be gone, back on the Appalachian Trail soon.

Of course, it would be very selfish to just go for physical pleasure and not be practical and count the money.

"The morning will be fine," I said and kissed him back with intent, stretching out against the long length of him, heat everywhere. I loved the way he felt moving under me, pulling me closer, the heat of him and the pressure of him and just the fact that it was Max, so strong and sure and unbelievably hot. The hell with the cash, I had Max right now.

Betty would be so proud.