His aunt pointed a stern finger at her husband and son-in-law. "You two be nice," she scolded. "Leave Max alone."
"Yeah," Max agreed with a sharp dip of his chin, placing one hand on his aunt's shoulder in unity while using the other to lift his drink to his mouth. "Leave me alone."
Aunt Fern smiled wide. "He's in love, it's sweet."
The Dr Pepper Max was drinking projected from his mouth in a disbelieving spray across the bar, narrowly missing the laughing people sitting next to it.
"What?" he spluttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Aunt Fern! Grace and I, we're not- It's not what you think, we're . . ."
Her hand patting his cheek stopped his ramblings. "So cute."
Josh's laughter raised in volume. "Dude, this is awesome."
Max shot him a look that said that this was unequivocally not awesome.
"What's all the racket?" Ruby came bounding into the room, wineglass in hand, followed by Buck, his girlfriends, and Deputy AssCrack.
"Your father and husband are assholes," Max murmured, still wiping his face.
Ruby sniggered. "That's not news."
"What's not news?"
Max looked up when he heard Grace's soft voice from the doorway and for one split second he forgot that he wanted to throttle Josh for gossiping and his uncle for telling embarrassing stories. She stood there, fidgeting yet lovely. Her hair was down, black and thick with a couple of short baby curls crafted perfectly to her temples. The red and white floral dress she wore skimmed her thighs and dipped between her boobs, hugging her figure in ways that were tastefully sexy. She approached him slowly, the glint in her eye suggesting that, just like him, their heavy petting session was still the only thing she could think about.
A shiver of pride ran through him. Yeah, he thought to himself, he was the man who she was fooling around with. He was the man who she trusted to make her come and feel good. He was the man she wanted to touch her and teach her how to be intimate again.
Shit, if he'd had feathers he'd have preened like a motherfucker.
"You look great," he said when she reached him.
She brushed a hand down the dress and gave a modest shrug. "Thanks." She turned to him, her face pinching. "Hey, I wanted to ask you something." She glanced around and spoke when she seemed satisfied that no one but Max was listening. "Are you going to be okay going out tonight?"
Max's frown creased. "Sure." He lifted his shoulders. "Why wouldn't I be?"
She cleared her throat. "It's just, I was thinking. I know you hang out at Whiskey's a lot, but that's different. I mean, will you be all right going to a club?" Her big green eyes were worried. "You know, there'll be more . . . temptation. Are you okay with that? I'd be happy to stay here with you if not. We could watch a movie or something."
No one except Tate and Elliot had really asked Max about his addiction and what he could and couldn't manage in terms of the lures around him. Max knew it wasn't because his family and friends didn't care; they simply trusted him enough and believed in him enough to leave him to his own devices. His vice had never been alcohol as much as cocaine, but he knew how quickly one addiction could be filled with another. Plus he couldn't drink while on his meds. His steps helped, of course, but Max understood how cautious people were, of asking too much or coddling him, which he hated. But, apparently, Grace being cautious was an altogether different thing and caused a tug in Max's chest that was warm and comforting.
He smiled gently. "Grace, I'll be fine. The clubs around here aren't like the ones I went to in New York. I doubt there'll be too much to worry about. Besides, I'm the designated driver."
She nodded, looking down at the floor, appearing embarrassed. "Oh. Okay. I just thought I'd ask. I didn't want you to be uncomfortable."
Max moved closer, subtly running the tip of his index finger along her forearm. "Thank you," he murmured. "For caring enough to ask."
She lifted her face to his. "You're welcome."
The club was absolutely nothing like the dives Max used to frequent in the city. This place played pop music and had disco balls hanging from the ceiling, for shit's sake.
Max side-eyed Josh in annoyance. "What the fuck?"
Josh shrugged drunkenly in response just as Ruby squealed when some heinous boy-band music started blaring from the DJ stand. She grabbed Josh's arm and dragged the poor bastard across the club so she could dance with him. Max glanced around, fighting down the urge to bolt.
The walls were adorned with mirrors and pictures of musicians from every era from the sixties to the present day, including Britney Spears and the other blonde chick who wore chaps with her ass on show, next to a picture of a leather-clad Elvis. Poor dude was probably turning in his grave. It was hell on earth. Max knew that if Carter heard about his being in such a place, he'd have ended their friendship immediately. And Max wouldn't have blamed him. Even Buck looked forlorn dressed in his Van Halen T-shirt and Vans. While the girls, including his aunt, jumped and flailed to the beat around Josh, Max placed himself at the bar next to his uncle and the deputy and watched.