Goldie Locks: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read online

  “But my older brother had some demons. Dad found out later he was put up for adoption after being removed from his birth parents who both had problems with gambling and drugs. Drink too. By the time Shane was old enough, he was headed down a pretty dark path that neither Dad nor I could follow him down, let alone keep up,” I tell her.

  “So Shane took off one day, just like that. Along with a few thousand dollars and most of our tools,” I recall with a twinge of bitterness.

  “Dad and I would’ve had to work our tails off to get back to where we were, and without tools, a locksmith is like a hammer without a handle. Useless.”

  “So what did you do?” Phoebe asks, her voice filled with concern as she moves from in front of me to sitting next to me, clutching my arm as she gnaws at her lip. Needing to know what happened next.

  “I found Shane and the tools. He was pretty messed up but I managed to get it out of him that he’d used the tools to rob a string of local businesses. Some of the businesses we even had as customers. He used the master keys to help himself.”

  Phoebe gasps and then frowns. “That’s awful,” she remarks. But as bad as it was, it’s not even why things went south between the Three Bears.

  “I told Shane to beat it, to skip town. Gave him some money and he gave me a split lip for my troubles. By the time the cops traced it all, I told them it was me who did the stealing. Broke my old man’s heart.”

  “But, you didn’t do anything wrong, Max,” Phoebe protests, balling her hands up. “How could you take the fall for someone else like that?”

  How could I indeed?

  “I was locked up, but not for long. Once Shane heard what I’d done, he came back to town and leveled with the police, proving it wasn’t me by producing a bunch of other stuff they never found, so we switched places. My smarter older brother was in jail and I was set free.”

  “What about your dad?” Phoebe asks.

  “He was heartbroken, still is. Shane got out a few years back but he’s never spoken to me. He keeps in touch with dad but dad keeps him at a distance, scared of a repeat performance, I guess.”

  “I’m so sorry, Max,” Phoebe sniffs, getting a little emotional. “I’m sorry I just assumed your life was always so perfect, just because you have nice things and look the way you do.”

  “Thanks, I think,” I tell her, pulling her close and reminding her not to worry about the past, mine, or her own anymore.

  “It’s us now, right? You should meet my dad though. He’s a great guy, just always wanting to play matchmaker with me and strangers, wanting me to give him the perfect family he never had I suppose. Grandkids instead of kids. And one’s that don’t betray him.”

  Phoebe stays quiet for a while, and I figure she’s had enough of stories and maybe of hot water for one day too.

  “And what about your brother?” she finally asks. “Is he ever gonna be part of your family again?”

  “I guess that’s up to him, but I’m not in any hurry to see him if that’s what you mean. Real family is blood, but it’s here too,” I tell her, tapping my chest. “I’ve never known it, except for my adopted dad. But if I ever have it, when I have it, it’ll be different. I know it will be.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it,” Phoebe says, surprising me with her answer. Her anger.

  “Just because someone’s blood family, doesn’t automatically mean they’re any good,” is all she has to say.

  Again, I feel like asking her so many things but I just know not to. Not now.

  She will tell me in her own time when she’s ready.

  No matter how bad it is, I need her to know I’ll always be there for her, and the best way for me to let her know that is by showing her. By proving it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Phoebe

  I’m not sure which has taken it out of me more, losing my virginity to Max, the huge steak dinner, or the hot tub with all the talk about the past.

  Either way, I’m relieved when Max suggests we hit the hay, and with Trixie curled up between us, I sleep like a log as soon as my head hits the pillow, waking early the next morning.

  Never getting used to one place in a single night, I’ve slept well but feel disoriented for a time until Trixie signals me she wants out and I find my way back down the stairs, the whole magical story of the day before replaying in my mind and making me smile.

  I’m still wobbly on my feet too, I wonder if it’s permanent, and make a mental note to ask Max if it’s normal to be this shaky after what we did.

  I’m sure it’s completely normal, but everything about the man just seems so… otherworldly when I think about him sometimes.

  I leave the door open a little so Trixie can come back in when she’s ready, and make my way back to bed and to Max quickly, craving the warmth of his body again already.

  Glancing at the time I see we’ve both slept late anyway, but Max seems dead to the world, sleeping with a half-smile of satisfaction still on his chiseled jaw.

  My feet catch on his clothes from yesterday as I cross the floor and bending down to pick up his pants and put them over the chair, I see something that stops my heart.

  Something that makes my whole body freeze with terror all over again.

  Another yellow envelope, folded in half flutters from Max’s pocket onto the floor in front of me.

  Instead of getting back into bed or even waking Max up to ask, I just stand there, staring at it until I finally sit on the chair in his room, not daring to move.

  Max does wake up eventually, and turning over once he feels I’m not in the bed next to him anymore, he wishes me good morning as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, sitting up once he sees the look on my face.

  “Baby, what is it?” he asks me, following my line of sight until he sees it too.

  “I’m not mad,” I hear myself telling him calmly. “I guess...I just need to know if it’s you sending all these or did you really find another one when I wasn’t looking and just decided to keep it in your pocket?” I hear myself asking him.

  Wondering if this is the moment when I finally get to solve the puzzle after all. Wondering if it’ll be anywhere near as bad as I’ve feared it would be if I ever met whoever’s doing this to me.

  Max groans, throwing himself back onto the pillows, covering his face with one and groaning even louder into it.

  He’s not the stalker, I know he isn’t

  He can’t be.

  Could he?

  As if on cue, Trixie comes bounding in and leaps up onto the bed, licking Max’s face once he removes the pillow as he forces a smile for her. Telling her she’s a good girl.

  “When you were in your apartment yesterday,” Max starts to explain. “At about the same moment you got that picture sent to you on your phone. That’s when I noticed it on your floor,” he tells me.

  “I pocketed it, meaning to keep you from seeing it until I got to the bottom of all this,” he explains.

  “I’m sorry,” he adds and twisting my mouth as I take in what he’s said I know he’s not only telling the truth, again, but he’s also doing everything he can to help solve the mystery without worrying me about it.

  He’s protecting me, and Trixie.

  It’s why we’re both here.

  It’s what people who love each other do, Phoebe.

  Before either of us can say another word, his phone rings, making him groan again but he answers it.

  Anything to break the tension I guess.

  He hits the speaker, so I can hear his phone call.

  His way of showing me he’s not hiding anything. Making me feel like an idiot for even entertaining the idea that Max could be the stalker for the second time in as many days.

  My mood doesn’t improve too much though, it’s a female voice on the line and she knows Max pretty well by the sound of it.

  “Max? Its Barbara Hall, how are you this morning?” The cheerful, overenthusiastic voice asks him.

  I watch his eyes narrow, then his face twis
ts. “Uh… Who?” he asks, making me feel a little bit better.

  “The agent for the office space? I spoke to you the other day, we made an appointment for Monday but I’ll be down there today showing someone else through. Would you like to meet up? If you’re still interested,” she adds, and Max looks at me.

  As if he needs my permission.

  Still sore over I can’t even remember what anymore, I shrug. Wondering more than anything when she says the building in question is right across the street from my apartment.

  Maybe I could stay here while Max goes and does whatever it is he does.

  Maybe I could get a ride back to my apartment, tell Max I need some space to try and get my head around things.

  After just one day and a night, I’m head over heels for the man, but finding it difficult to adjust to anything that doesn’t involve him naked with his head between my legs.

  Selfish much?

  Sure it is, but I haven’t had to think about the real world for a whole day for the first time in years.

  I was kinda enjoying it in fantasy land.

  “Umm, Sure. Can I keep that open, what time?” Max asks, not committing but still letting her know he’s interested in the place.

  Why was he looking at real estate right across the street from my building?

  I can’t get that thought out of my head now either, and I’m relieved when Max hangs up, sitting up on the edge of the bed, ready for all the questions he must know I have now.

  “I used the building across from yours to watch and see if your stalker would come back,” he tells me. “While I was there I figured it was a good office space for a deal I’m working on with some clients.”

  Makes sense.

  “Wait. You waited in the building opposite mine, then followed me to work and waited all night,” I repeat aloud, holding my palms up and looking at the yellow envelope again. “Can you see how weird all this is, Max?” I ask.

  I have to ask, for my own sanity.

  “It doesn’t look good, I know,” he admits. “But yeah, that’s the truth of it. I kinda stalked you too, but only to make sure you were safe from the stalker.”

  I shiver in my seat, then holding my fingers to my temples, I groan out loud.

  It’s too hard to even contemplate this early, which is supposed to be the end of my working day.

  My whole body clock’s out of whack. Getting up in the morning when I’d normally be finishing work, and being in someone else’s house to boot.

  “Just don’t hold out on me anymore, okay?” I ask him. “I know you don’t want me to worry, but this is the sort of thing that worries me,” I admit.

  He gives a firm nod. “Agreed. I’ll keep you posted from now on,” he says and we both sigh a little, relaxing enough for me to ask if we have to get up just yet.

  “We can do whatever you want. I could go check out the office space, but that’s later. We can just lay here for a bit if you want?” he suggests.

  “I want,” I admit, making him yelp when my freezing legs meet his under the covers as we both hide from the world and the day for at least another hour or two.

  “Sorry for keeping that from you,” he whispers as I snuggle closer once we’re both warmed up.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you. And sorry in advance for being jealous of your real estate agent,” I add.

  “Really?” he asks, making a face and sounding like I should be kidding.

  But I can tell, just from her voice. I know the type. The type that someone like Max should have on his arm instead of someone like me.

  I try and tell myself not to even think like that, but old habits die hard.

  Everything feels great when I’m with Max, like when we were at the mall yesterday, but then I’d catch our reflection in a shop window and it just looked so strange.

  When I’m with him, when I see the adoration in his eyes I forget. When I see myself through my own eyes, I still can’t do the math that Max plus Phoebe equals us.

  “I meant what I said, Phoebe,” Max reminds me, reading my thoughts. “I love you and I’m going to get to the bottom of whoever’s been haunting you.”

  “I love you too, Max,” I tell him, wishing I could maybe love myself a fraction of how much I know I love him.

  “I don’t have to go look at the office space,” he says again, and I know he won’t if I ask him not to, but that’s not how things should be.

  “Maybe we can all go back to town?” I suggest, trying to sound cheerful again. “I could pick up some more stuff from my apartment. Some food for Trixie, which I forgot.” I offer.

  “You mean it?” he asks, sounding relieved. “I mean, you’ll stay?”

  “You know I will,” I tell him, waiting for him to kiss me and forgetting what I was even worried about when he finally does.

  “That’s my girl,” he says. “That’s my girl.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Maxwell

  It’s driving her back to pick up Trixie’s food and anything else Phoebe needs that really makes me want to go.

  The office space served its purpose, and to be honest, I really couldn’t care less about the deal I was working on since I got the call to help Phoebe.

  Nothing else seems to matter anymore, we have all we’ll need and then some. Why chase more when I’ve found everything in Phoebe? My queen has finally come home.

  Even rethinking the past, considering my dad’s own future now. I’m not as emotionally charged about any of it anymore.

  Phoebe is my world now, we’ve both found each other.

  I do feel bad about not telling her about the other envelope under her door, but apart from not wanting to worry her I legitimately did forget all about it for a while there.

  That little thing that happened? Claiming her as my own, finding the one true love of my life? I guess we both got distracted and I still think Phoebe may be a little overwhelmed with all the change she’s experienced in just a few days.

  I guess we’ll both have to get used to our lives being different.

  Considering the schedule I used to keep up until yesterday, I’m running the risk of calling official retirement, not that anyone would be there to hear it. Staying at home with Phoebe and her little dog full-time from now on.

  Sounds like the perfect plan.

  But neither of us can truly rest until we put a stop to whoever’s been making her life miserable.

  Seeing as we’ll be in town, I wonder if it’s too soon to introduce Phoebe to my dad after all?

  I know he’d appreciate the visit anyway, and having him meet his latest customer who he helped rescue would make his day.

  I’ll need to pay him for my services too, as backward as that sounds. No point in letting him go out of pocket for services rendered.

  On the drive back to the city, I try and get some more out of Phoebe about who she thinks could be behind all this stalking business but she really has no idea.

  “If I had a dollar for everyone who has ever given me a hard time or made fun of, or wanted to make me feel bad, I wouldn’t be renting a crappy apartment and working in a box factory,” she finally says loudly after I quiz her. Maybe asking a little too much about who she thinks it might be.

  Maybe it is just some random weirdo? There is no shortage of disturbed people in the world these days.

  I feel for her, I really do. And worst of all, I feel like I should have met her before all this started so I could have put an end to it before it made her so upset.

  Before it took over her whole life.

  “So you’re certain?” I dare to ask her, even just one last time. “No jilted boyfriends. Lovers. Ex-school mates or neighbors with a grudge?”

  “Max,” she whines. “I thought we’d covered this and no. Can we talk about something else please?” she pleads, trying to keep it polite but I can tell she’s getting irritated with me playing twenty questions.

  “Sorry Phoebe,” I tell her. “But this is just what anyone would ask if t
hey were trying to help with the situation,” I remind her.

  “No police,” she says emphatically, mumbling something about wishing I’d never found out.

  “I know it’s hard, Phoebe. But I don’t think this person, whoever they are is just gonna stop following you because you’re with me now.”

  In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s gonna make it worse, but I don’t want to tell her that right now, she’s been through enough.

  My phone rings again, loudly as it’s patched through the car, making Phoebe jump a little.

  She’s still nervous every time we talk about this damned stalker. I’ll really have to act fast.

  It’s the delivery service from the mall calling. I was wondering what happened to all our purchases.

  “Sorry for the delay, Mr. Bear. But we’re calling to confirm the change of address, your assistant rang and asked to have everything delivered to a downtown address, we’re just calling to-”

  At first, I figure it’s just a mix-up. They’ve confused all our stuff with someone else’s.

  “Uh, no.” I correct them, butting in. “I gave the address, which is correct to each and every store we shopped at. I don’t have an assistant,” I hear myself barking until it slowly dawns on me.

  Phoebe’s shivering in her seat next to me. Hugging her elbows as Trixie starts to whine.

  Looks like her stalker’s upped their game. First sending a photo of Phoebe with me out walking and now this.

  “Who was this assistant?” I ask. “And what was the address they wanted everything sent to?” I demand from the monotone voice on the other end of the line.

  “Sorry, Mr. Bear. If it wasn’t your assistant calling, I can’t give out any private personal information regarding names, numbers, or addresses…”

  I feel my hands tighten around the steering wheel, a low growl in my throat.

  “Then why are you even calling me? You can cancel the delivery. I’ll be canceling all the sales on my credit card,” I snarl before hanging up, more determined than ever to take matters into my own hands and end this.

  “It’s just stupid clothes, Max,” Phoebe says, her teeth nearly chattering she’s so frightened.