Love Me Like You Mean It: Love Me, #2

By Jaime Russell

Max Stephens uses his past as an excuse to avoid any type of commitment to relationships in his life. 
There are only a few people that know the truth about his past, and he plans to keep it that way.
He is also a love them and leaves them type of guy, until she literally knocks him off his feet.

Reagan Cramer uses her past as a shield to avoid getting close to anyone. 
Relationships are something she doesn't want or have time for, while she's raising her nephew. Everything is going according to plan, until he makes her want things she isn't supposed too.

Max and Reagan both use their bodies to numb the pain, but what happens when the past can no longer stay hidden, and feelings are now involved? Will they heal together, or were they both doomed from the start?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jaime Russell
• Release date: Aug 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536566024

Book preview

Reagan

Aunt Reagan, where are my shoes? I’m going to be late for school. I roll my eyes as my thirteen-year-old nephew yells the same question that he does every morning. If his head wasn’t attached, he probably would lose that too. He is the spitting image of my sister Kennedy with his blue eyes and button nose, but when he smiles, it is all Jason.  Looking at him, I can’t stop the tears from forming in my eyes. I wish my sister was here to see him growing into his own personality. 

Did you even look for them? Jonathan comes out of his room wearing his red and black basketball shorts and a black tee. 

Duh, he says as he does his famous annoyed-with-the-parental look. I point to the shoes that he left in front of his Xbox last night. He smiles as he kisses me on the cheek and mumbles something about being late for school.

I could always drive you to school if you want. My first meeting isn’t until nine, I suggest to him as I eat my cornflakes and banana. He looks at the time on his cell phone then back at me and shakes his head. He grabs his usual breakfast of a Pop-Tart and Yoo-hoo and is out the door in ten seconds. Bye, have a good day, I yell out to no one in particular. 

I clean up my mess and go to get a shower. We live in a small two-bedroom apartment because I needed something fast. I lived above our business before but couldn’t bring myself to live there after, and Kennedy’s house wasn’t hers so the bank took it back. 

I walk into my bathroom which is an ugly yellow color and small. The shower does have great water pressure, so I can’t complain too much. I put on my playlist and start my shower. My mom would laugh at me growing up because when I played music, I got lost in it. I forget where I am or how long I am in my own little world. Listening to soulful music like Adele takes me to a place of longing. I get lonely doing the same thing over and over. Wrapping the towel around me, I walk into my bedroom. 

It’s the bigger of the two bedrooms, and I was able to get a queen size bed, with a pink and brown bedspread into it. The closet is a small walk-in; I was happy about that because my job as a child advocate has me wearing a lot of suits especially when I am in meetings all day.  I look through my closet to find an outfit that works for my meetings that can also be worn out to dinner. 

My best friend, Nicarra, who has always been like my sister since we met in kindergarten, text me this morning to remind me of our plans. We try to get together at least once a week just to connect and Jonathan loves the attention her boys give him. He likes not being the only boy when we get together for our weekly dinner. I grab my black suit and toss it on the bed as I walk to the dresser to pull out my white lace bra and thong. I attach the black thigh highs to my garter as I pull my skirt on, then I button up my pink silk blouse and throw on my jacket. Twisting my hair into a bun on my way to the bathroom, I then apply very little makeup to try to hide the dark circles forming under my eyes. I haven’t been sleeping much because I constantly worry if my choices are the right ones for Jonathan. Not to mention the nightmares of the day my sister and brother-in-law, his parents, were murdered right in front of me.

My cell phone ringing takes me out of my guilt-ridden mind. I groan out loud to see my ex-husband Don’s name flashing. I answer it with a brisk, Hello, Don. 

Hey, what is your schedule like this weekend? 

Why? You have an event that you need Jonathan at to make people thing that you actually like kids? Don couldn’t handle being dad to my nephew. He’d tried numerous times to get me to give him to another family member, and when I wouldn’t do it, he left me for someone older whose kids were already grown. It devastated Jonathan, and I’d been the one picking up the pieces. 

Don’t be like that. I got tickets from a client for the Miami Dolphins and thought I would take him to it.

I’ll ask him, but I don’t have a problem with it. 

I need to talk to him about my promotion and relocating.

You’re moving? 

I leave at the end of the year for California. Plus, I’m getting married next month.

Wow, lots of changes coming your way. Why do you want to do things with Jonathan? Our marriage ended because you didn’t want to play dad. I grab my black briefcase as I opened the door to head down to my car. 

Why do you have to be like this? he snaps. 

Don, I’m not trying to be a bitch, but I’m concerned about Jonathan and what this all does to him. 

I like being the uncle that he sees on weekends. I wasn’t ready to be a dad. 

You didn’t have to be a dad, just a role model for him. Congratulations on your promotion and upcoming nuptials. He sighs loudly—his sign that the conversation is over. 

Have Jonathan call me tonight or tomorrow. 

Bye, Don. 

I end the call with him, unsure of if I should be happy for him or be jealous that he’s moved on. I back out of my parking spot and drive down the highway toward my office. My mind wanders back to the fight that ended our marriage. 

Don, where the hell have you been? We had to be at the parent-teacher conference to talk about Jonathan’s attitude. I had to go by myself. 

I just walked in the door, must we start this fight yet again?

Yes. We are a partnership in this, I need you present in raising Jonathan. Are you going to be like this when we have children? 

You took responsibility for him without even discussing it with me. My kids will be my priority; Jonathan is not mine. 

I didn’t know that I needed to ask permission to take care of my nephew when his parents were killed. 

I’m out of here. I’m staying at my parents’ house. 

You’re leaving me? I asked him as tears flowed down my cheeks. 

Yes, I’m done. He grabbed the bag he had been packing while we argued. I followed him out of the house into the driveway.

Am I to choose between my nephew and my husband? I wrapped my arms around him, but he just kept his arms to his side. 

Yes, he whispered into my hair. I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a parent to a kid who's angry all the time and won’t listen to us. I love you more than I can explain, but you need to figure out what you want your life to be. He grabbed my arms and plucked them off of him, kissed the top of my head, and drove away in his black Mercedes. I stood there for an hour wishing he would come back, and he never did.

I’m brought back to the present by the car behind me beeping to inform me the light is green. I wave and apologize even though they can’t hear me. 

My morning is filled with department meetings then my afternoon is in-home meetings. Even though I am thirty minutes early, I need to go over my notes, so I shut off the car once I’m in my spot with my briefcase and coffee in hand and head toward the front doors. The building is your typical office building but once you step inside it’s nowhere near typical. 

Our offices are all glass windows so we can see everything. We have our reception desk and then behind her is a play area for children when we have had to take them from their homes until we find somewhere to place them or if we have a meeting, and the kids come along. 

Hi, Jill, how are things this morning? I ask. 

Moring, Reagan, the day just started so it’s good because you’re the only one here. 

I beat Spencer? That’s a first. I write it on her calendar that I beat my boss here. He’s the one who usually arrives early and stays late. Jill starts laughing at me then swats my hand away. I head into my office and collapse on my chair. I’m already drained, and the first meeting hasn’t started yet. 

I turn on my computer so I can see who my appointments are with and map out my drive time. This is going to be a long day. 

Max

Abby, calm down. I promise you that Cash is not cheating on you. Joan is sick, remember? He told you that he was stopping by the hospital. You’re on bed rest, you can’t go with him. I try to remain calm with her, but it’s the same conversation for a week. Abby’s three months pregnant with my niece or nephew. She’s been having some complications, something about spotting—I tune her out when she talks about blood. The doctor wants her to get to a little further along in her pregnancy before letting her do more, as a precaution. 

I pull my truck into the driveway and notice someone sitting on the porch. I didn’t recognize her. 

I know all this, but I’m as big as the hotel right now, Abby says as she sniffles. I can tell that she is crying, and I’m not there yet to comfort her. I have good news to tell her, but I got distracted with her freak out. 

You’re not as big as the hotel. You are pregnant with precious cargo. Cash loves you and only you. Do I need to call him and pull the big brother card? She starts laughing and tells me no. Hey, Abs, I need to go. There’s someone sitting on the porch, can I call you later? Don’t forget that I’ll be there the day after tomorrow. 

I can’t wait. I love you. I can tell by the change in her voice that she was smiling as she told me that she loves me. 

I love you too. Bye. I hit the end button on my Bluetooth and take it out of my ear, then I grab the shopping bag from Gap Kids. I can’t help myself. I have two totes full of girl’s and boy’s clothes. I am spoiling this kid, and they are not even here yet. I climb out of the truck and slam the door shut. I have a lot of work to do and don’t really have time for visitors. I look around and notice that Sarah’s mustang isn’t here. 

Can I help you, ma’am? I ask as I step onto the porch. The lady’s sitting there with her head down reading a book. I wonder how long she’s been sitting here. She has white blonde hair that is down her back in a braid. She closes her book. 

Hello. I’m looking for Maxwell Smith. I was told that he resides here. The tone is something of disgust as she says my name. I don’t remember her, and no one has called me Maxwell Smith in almost twenty years. I look her up and down in her short jean skirt and tight tank top. She has a nice rack for an older woman. 

Who is looking for him? I inquire without giving away too many details because I need to feel her out. She pushes her glasses down to reveal the most beautiful gray eyes that I have ever seen. I remember those eyes on the day my entire like came crashing down on me. 

I am. Is he here or not? She’s clearly impatient by tapping her foot on the porch. She stands about 5’5". I bet she broke her nose a lot growing up because it looks like it’s seen better days, and her lips have seen a lot of injections because she has permanent duck lips. I shiver as I stare at them, and she snaps her manicured fingers at me. She’s working my last nerve.

I’m Max Stephens, formally Smith. What can I help you with? 

You don’t remember me, do you? She puts her hands on her hips. 

Felicia Marks, I mock her. 

I am afraid that I have some bad news. Your father died. 

So, the old man finally croaked? I can’t say that I am saddened by this news. I’m going to the store to buy a cake and throw a party. 

You don’t need to act like this, do you? 

Why are you here? It’s my last night here in Pennsylvania before Sarah and I make the drive to Miami to be with Abby. Rob and Aaron will be here soon to help celebrate the sale of the house and our next adventure. Sarah’s been lost without her best friend and sidekick Abby that I’ve been trying to do the best friend older brother duty of hanging with her. I can’t watch another chick flick. 

I thought that I would come and tell you that he died last night. He had a heart attack. She puts her hand in her back pocket and pulls out a tissue and wiped a tear. 

Hot damn, the bastard did have a heart. Who would have thought? I’m laughing because I really don’t know how I’m supposed to feel right now. She slaps me across the face.

 Don’t you ever touch me again; do you understand? I speak those last three words slowly and make sure to pronounce them very clearly so she doesn’t misunderstand. I’m now towering over her as I whip off my shades and throw them to the ground. I don’t hit girls, but if you touch me again, I will make that exception for you. Understood? My nose is flaring, hands flexing, and I’m using every ounce of willpower not to knock her on her ass. 

Here. She takes an envelope out of her purse and pushes it into my chest. She starts to walk to the car that is parked down the street. She stops to take one more look at me. It’s a shame that you didn’t die along with your mother. I jump off the porch and in Felicia’s direction. I see Sarah getting out of her car watching the scene fold in front of her. 

The bitch isn’t worth it. Sarah glares at Felicia while she walks to her 2014 bright-yellow Dodge Charger. 

She flips me off as she goes flying past the house, and I can’t resist yelling at her, Fuckin’ bitch. 

Sarah laughs and twirls around to look at me. 

Who was that and what the hell did she want? She stands there in her blue blazer, white blouse, and blue skirt. I’m uncomfortable so my hands instinctively go right into my pockets as I rock on my heels of my feet. I’ve kept my past in the past. I won’t go into detail with her. No one will know the hell I’ve been through from birth until I moved in with the Stephens. 

She knew my biological father. He died last night, I inform her in the tone that leaves no doubt that I don’t want to discuss it. 

I’m sorry. I know you don’t like talking about him. What’s in the envelope? She points to it as I look down on the ground where I dropped it. 

I don’t know. She gave it to me and left. I reach down to the ground to pick it up. It’s from some law office three towns over. I groan out loud because I never want to go back to that place. Let me help you with the food. I need to change the subject fast. Sarah gives me that look that Abby always gave me when she wasn’t going to let me get away with something. We walk into the house, and I head upstairs to change, throwing the envelope on my dresser. I will look at it later, but right now, I can’t deal with it. 

I change into my basketball shorts and sneakers and jog down the steps to head to the finished basement. When I first moved into this house, it was with a couple of guys I met through an online ad, and we made the basement into a gym. We were three guys who were heavily into sports and looking good for the ladies. I decided to buy the house the summer before my senior year. Abby and Sarah were moving in with me while they attended school, so the guys, Seth, and David, still come by to use the gym. I put my phone into the speaker dock while I head over to the punching bag. I’m putting my boxing gloves on while I play that conversation with Felicia through my mind.

Reagan

Shutting off my beat-up Honda Civic, I get a glimpse of the time. Shit, I mutter. I’m running thirty minutes late to meeting with Nicarra, and she’s blowing up my phone to let me know that I am late. I try calling her, but she won’t pick up, and I refuse to text and drive. I send her a text to let her know that I’ll be there shortly. 

Me: Bad case, getting Jonathan now

Nic: About damn time

I chuckle as I toss my cell phone into my purse while I take the steps two at a time to get to my apartment to change. I wasn’t paying attention as I ran into a hard chest, which belongs to my creepy neighbor, Chad, who smells of Spam and Funyuns. 

Oh, sorry, Chad. 

I keep my head down trying to avoid eye contact. Chad Rollins is a forty-five-year-old single, never married man who moved in about two years ago. Chad’s blonde, wavy hair and blue eyes make him almost normal until you make eye contact with him or he starts talking. His eyes have become so bloodshot and crazy, undressing me with his eyes. Chad smirks as he looks at me like I’m naked. Every encounter with him makes me take a shower right after—I always feel dirty. I try to walk away from him, but he grabs my arm. I went from looking at his hand to his face. 

Woah, Sweet Cheeks. Where are you headed in such a hurry? He looks me up and down. He stops at my chest, and I see what he’s staring at. My button on my white blouse popped open on my run up the stairs so he got a full view of the top of breasts. I pull my suit jacket tight around me. 

Dinner plans, already running late. I try to get out of his grasp, but he just grips harder making it tight, feeling like a blood pressure cuff on my upper arm. 

Sweet Cheeks, when are you going to go out with me? he slurs, smelling of cheap beer. My response in my head is, Not even if you were the last man on Earth, but I know that will set him off even more. 

Chad, you seem like a nice guy, but the answer is never. Now, I need to go. I can’t move, and I’m starting to get nervous so I keep looking around for anyone below for me to yell for help.  

Why must you be so damn difficult? You’re such a fucking tease, parading around in your short skirts, barely-there shorts, and tight shirts. He motions to my outfit. One of these days, someone is going to knock you off your high horse. He was leaning into me, and his breath was making me gag, I hope that it’ll be me. He smirks. I’m trying to fight back the tears that are burning my eyes. I can’t show him weakness. 

Did you threaten me? My voice sounds shaky instead of strong like it sounded in my head. 

No threat just a promise. As he releases me, Chad shoves me lightly. I lose my footing and my body hits the rails. I cry out in pain with the contact. Chad whistles Dixie walking back to his apartment as I stand there, my shoulders starting to shake as the tears start to fall. 

If you ever touch her, talk to her, or threaten her again, I’ll end your life. Do you understand me?  The stranger’s voice is calm, deep, and threatening as he holds Chad by the scruff of his t-shirt and lifts Chad off the ground. Do you understand me? the stranger repeats himself