Page 108 of Unbreakable Thread

His jaw tightens, and then he buries his head in the crook of my neck. “You’re here. No one was in there. Let’s not think like that.”

Max lifts his head and dries the tears from my face. “We’ll remodel it.”

I nod.

I couldn’t tell him what I suspected. Not yet. But I knew I was right about who did this— I knew it the way you know certain things, the kind of knowing that sits in your chest and doesn’t move. Leo, Hector, and Max would pay for it. Max would go looking for him. The thoughts of what he could do to our baby scare me.

Once the fire was out and the firefighters had left, we locked the front door, and Max took me home.

He stayed with me the rest of the day and into the night, his arms around me. I kept thinking about how good it felt, then hating myself for thinking about it. I turn my face into his chest so he couldn’t see mine.

I want to tell him. I almost did twice. But I thought of what would happen to all of us if I did, and I press my mouth shut and let him hold me.

It’s been a week since the fire. The investigation is still going. We have already started the cleanup. I’m grateful it was empty. My heart aches to see my hard work going up in ashes, but it’s all material stuff. It can all be fixed. Hector says it was Carlos, no doubt about it. He was so close to showing up at Carlos’s home. I had to stop him.

Max’s gentle hands find my waist before I even settle into the restaurant booth. He brought me tonight to distract my mind from the fire. Of course, he doesn’t know what’s on my mind. What bothers me is the weight I’m carrying on my chest. The danger lurking. And the repeated question in my head. Was he trying to kill me? I know the answer even though I keep repeating the question in my head.

Max has been amazing, like always. He finds a way to distract my mind. With food, strip chess, and of course, his body. The latter is the best one. He uses every tool available— including himself—and I’m so tempted to reach into his slacks and stroke him until he comes on my hands. Those thoughts vanish when his fans come to our table to shake his hand and ask for a photo. The majority are men, but one woman is determined to snag a photo with him. She flutters her thick lashes at him. He kindly declines and tells her he doesn’t do solo photos with women. He claims he would only take a photo if I were in it. He introduces me as his girlfriend. Upset, she walks off. Once she rounds the corner, he apologizes. “Don’t apologize. I’m proud to be the woman by your side.” I am. I love his fans. Only those who are respectful.

We finish our meal, Max holds me protectively around the waist. A couple of nights ago, when he thought I was asleep, he whispered. “I could have lost you and the baby.” He took a deep breath, then brushed his lips on my cheek. “I can’t live without you.” Those words cemented themselves in my chest.

“Do you want ice cream?” Max asks as we drive out of the restaurant’s parking lot.

Ice cream does sound good, but undressing sounds better. Stop it, Sol, leave the poor man alone. “Sure,” I say instead.

We drive up to a frozen custard shop. He parks, then opens the door for me. We walk hand in hand. Beautiful families line up, eager to cool off from the angry heat outdoors. Kids laugh as they lick their way up to the top of their cone.

We sit in a corner booth. Max hands me my strawberry-banana sundae, and he’s licking the chocolate cone in his other hand. “I figured our little tesoro would like a treat,” he claims.

I laugh. “Oh, yes, I suppose he or she does, but so does their mama.” I scoop up custard, strawberry, banana, whipped cream, and a salted pecan into the spoon and into my mouth. I groan.

“Good?” he asks, grinning.

“Uh-huh.” I lick my lips. “I intend to have a snack later.” I wink. “Have some.” I put a spoonful in his mouth.

“Yours tastes better.”

“I know. You always get the boring stuff.”

“This is my snack. I intend to have my dessert later.”

Then I remember. “Max, I called Leo yesterday. He didn’t answer me. Has he been to work?”

“He texted me that he would be at work tomorrow. I think he feels guilty that I’m taking over his fights.” He sighs.

“About that…Leo mentioned it, but you haven’t.”

He puffs air out. “I know, baby, it’s just so much shit going on right now. Especially now with a baby on the way. I don’t have time for Leo’s impulsiveness. I also couldn’t let him fight. They’d kill him. I need to find a way to get out of this mess. Next Saturday, I have to fight. I don’t want anything to do with Daniel and his illegal bullshit. I can’t risk something happening to you and our baby.” He sets his cone down on a napkin, just for a moment. Looking at nothing across the shop. He picks his food back up. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I need to get out of it without him hurting you again.”

I reach for his hand and squeeze. “No need to apologize to me, Max. I know you did what you felt was right, and you’re right. Leo did it impulsively.”

Leo meant well. He always means well. That’s the problem. He just didn’t think it through.

“I’ll go with you.”

He raises a brow, like a parent scolding a child. “No,” he says sharply.

“Max.”