Page 56 of Written with Love

Chapter Seventeen

Hearing Max’s breathing and watching his chest rise and fall soothed her worries.

After everyone had left and she’d made sure every door and window in the place was locked, they ate a light dinner before settling down on the sofa and watching TV until Max fell asleep.

Juliette glanced down at Max sprawled across the sofa with his head resting against her thigh. His breathing was steady, his features relaxed, despite the events of the day. She ran her fingers lightly through his hair, careful not to get near his bump or wake him just yet. He needed the rest after what had happened in the basement. But they couldn’t stay on the couch all night.

“Max,” she whispered after the show was over, brushing her fingers along his jaw.

He let out a soft, contented sigh but didn’t stir.

Smiling, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

He hummed in response, blinking his eyes open slowly. For a moment, he looked confused, but then he focused on her and a sleepy smile curved his lips. “Mmm, best wake-up call ever.”

She chuckled. “Let’s get you in bed before you fall asleep on me again.”

He stretched and groaned before finally sitting up. “Fine, but only if you come with me.”

She chuckled as she stood and took his hand, leading him down the hallway, up the stairs, and to the bedroom. The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos from earlier in the day. The only sound was the rhythmic crash of the waves outside, steady and soothing.

Max sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. “You okay?” he asked, watching her as she moved around the room.

“I should be asking you that.” She pulled a small bag from the chair and unzipped it, taking out a few of her things. “But yeah, I’m fine. Just glad you’re okay.”

He nodded and yawned as he fell back onto the bed, watching her. “You know, I never really thought about what it’d be like to have someone else’s things in here.”

She paused, looking over her shoulder at him. “And?”

His lips tilted into a lazy smile. “I like it. Is the closet big enough for you?”

She chuckled and motioned to the massive walk-in closet. Max’s things took up only a quarter of the space. “I think I have less clothes than you do. There’s going to be more empty space in there than either of us can fill.”

Warmth spread through her chest. She turned back to the dresser and placed a few folded shirts in an empty drawer before moving to the bathroom to put away her toothbrush, makeup bag, and hair products. It wasn’t much, but it was a start—one that felt bigger than she’d expected.

When she returned, Max had shifted under the covers, his arm stretched out towards her. “Come here,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion.

She slipped in beside him, and he immediately pulled her close, tucking her against his chest. “Feels right,” he mumbled against her hair.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. “It does.”

Within minutes, his breathing evened out again, his body warm and solid next to hers. She let out a slow breath, letting the exhaustion of the day finally take over.

As she drifted off, she realized something. Despite everything that had happened, despite the threats and uncertainty, she felt safe. Because she was here, with him. And that was all that mattered.

The following morning, she woke to a text message from Palmer that his men were there and ready to work. Dressing quickly and leaving Max to sleep more, she opened the door for them and went about making breakfast.

When she was done, she set two plates down on the small outdoor table on the deck. The morning sun was still casting a golden glow over the ocean, warming everything and making her glad that summer was finally there.

The air was still a little crisp this early but warming quickly, the salty breeze carrying the distant cries of seagulls and happy people enjoying the beach below them.

Max stepped out and stretched his arms over his head before plopping down in the chair across from her. His hair was still messy from sleep, and the faint bruising on his temple from yesterday’s attack made her stomach twist.

“I could get used to this,” he said, grabbing a slice of bacon off his plate.

She smirked. “What, waking up to the sound of hammers and saws?”

He chuckled. “That, and already made breakfast.”