“You’ll rent a sports car, but you won’t own one?”
Max grinned at her boyishly, running a hand over the door of the car. “I had to scratch the itch occasionally.”
Mia wrapped her arms around him, hugging his back as she murmured, “It’s permanently cured now.”
Max turned and hefted her up against him. Mia wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing their faces level. “I have another itch,” he told her wickedly, ready to wait for the ride in his new vehicle. “I can’t believe you did this for me. How is it that you seem to know what I want before I do?”
“Observation,” she told him with a laugh. “I spied this time. And you knew you wanted it; you just wouldn’t admit it to yourself. You’ve spent a lot of senseless money on me in the past, but you make different rules for yourself.”
Max wasn’t sure, but he was pretty certain it was more than observation. Mia got him in a way he didn’t even comprehend himself. “I actually got something for you, too.” And he hoped she liked it. “And spending money on you is never senseless.”
“What?” she asked curiously, placing a tender kiss to his lips before unwrapping her legs from his waist, her feet landing gracefully on the ground.
Max nearly groaned aloud, the loss of having her so close to him almost painful. “I got it in Florida.” Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a black velvet box. Nervously, he opened the lid. “I didn’t know if we’d find your wedding ring again. So I got this.”
The ring had a platinum band completely covered in diamonds, an enormous sapphire on top embedded into a heart crafted of the same precious metal and surrounded completely by more diamonds.
“Oh, Max.” Mia sounded breathless as she took the box, her hand trembling. “It’s incredible. But I have my wedding ring.”
“You have another finger,” Max reminded her with a small smile. “One ring for our first marriage, and another for our second chance.” He pulled the ring from the box in her hand and slipped it over the ring finger of her other hand. “Keep me,” he demanded, not really wanting it to be a question. He was definitely keeping her.
Her expression stunned, she looked up at him with tears on her face. “This is exquisite. It must have cost you a fortune. The sapphire is at least seventeen carats.”
Max had forgotten for a moment that he was married to a jewelry designer who knew her gems, even though she wasn’t working with precious stones much anymore. “Cost isn’t exactly a problem. I wanted more diamonds, but Gabrielle said it would be overkill.”
“Gabrielle. Oh, God. I knew this looked like her work. But she’s booked forever for custom stuff. How did you get her to do this so quickly?”
Max had needed to shell out a lot of cash and do some groveling to get the famous jewelry designer to make Mia’s ring a priority, but he would have paid anything to get it, and have it on Mia’s finger as quickly as possible. After seeing the way she had mourned the loss of her ring, he would have given his entire fortune to get her another one. “Do you like it?” he asked anxiously, not wanting to discuss the price or how he’d gotten it so quickly.
Mia touched the ring reverently, her eyes shimmering. “There isn’t a woman in the world who wouldn’t. Thank you, Max. I love it. I love you.”
“Don’t cry.” He wiped the tears from her face gently. “It was supposed to make you smile.”
“I am happy. It’s just such an incredible piece of jewelry. You didn’t need to do this. I already have a gorgeous wedding ring.”
“You didn’t have to buy me a Ferrari,” he reminded her.
“I wanted to,” she argued.
“Ditto,” he said, grinning at her.
“Are you planning on giving me a ride?” she asked softly, her eyes drifting to his new car.
Oh yeah. He wanted to give her the ride of her life right now. Max was seriously considering laying her over the hood of the Ferrari naked, but Mia had already jogged to the passenger side of the car and hopped over the door and into the sports car.
Resigned, he opened the door and sank into the leather seat, starting the vehicle and turning it around so he could head out to the highway. He drove slowly down the driveway, trying to avoid the potholes, and making a mental note to get them filled in as soon as possible.
“Do we know where we’re going?” Max asked Mia, not certain exactly where the back highways led in the area or what his destination was going to be.
“Does it matter?” Mia asked, her hair ruffling in the breeze as he stopped at the end of the driveway.
Max frowned as he looked back at her. He’d never been a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants type of guy. He always knew exactly where he was going, what he was doing, and why he was doing it.
But I’m in a car I’ve dreamed about since I was a teenager, with a beautiful woman in the passenger seat—a woman who I love and thought I’d never be able to touch again.
So no…hell no…he didn’t care where he was going, as long as Mia was going with him.
His whole body relaxed as he looked at Mia, her face radiant and glowing, his scowl disappearing and his lips curling up into a boyish grin. “Nope. It doesn’t matter at all.”
“You look like a teenage boy who just got his driver’s license,” Mia observed, amused.
“I’ve had a license for a long time, woman. But I do feel like a teenager in a couple of ways,” he told her hoarsely, his mouth going dry as he looked at her.
“How?”
“I want to see if this vehicle really does go from zero to sixty in less than four seconds and you make me as horny as a teenage kid who wants nothing more than to get into the panties of the girl sitting beside him,” he answered, shooting her dangerous look.
“I’m pretty easy for you,” Mia answered in low, sultry voice. “I’m your wife.” She paused before telling him sweetly, “Turn right. It’s a long stretch of pretty straight road.”
She might be his wife, but she’d never be easy. Luckily, his woman had been referring to sex, and in that regard, he was all for her being easy…with him. Mia would also tease him, delight him, frustrate the hell out of him, and change him in ways that would always make him a better man. She’d push his boundaries, make him realize that he could shed his Mr. Perfect title and still be a man his adoptive parents would be proud of if they were still alive. He’d probably never be reckless or completely abandoned, because that wasn’t who he really was, but he was learning that everything in life didn’t have to make sense. And in fact, most of the really good things, stuff that made life really worth living, actually didn’t involve reason or logic.