“Maybe you’re hanging out with the wrong crowd?” Relieved that she’d at least stepped from the car, he offered her his arm.
She shoved her hands deep into her pockets. “Where would you like to walk?”
Her refusal of his arm stung. She didn’t even want to touch him? At all? That was a very bad sign. But at least they were walking, and that was a start.
WHY HAD SHE agreed to a walk? Now that they were alone, all she could think about was how he smelled like sweet masculinity. Before last night, she’d never smelled the cologne he was wearing, and she knew that if she ever smelled it on someone else, there was no way it would smell as delicious as he did at that moment.
Oh, dear God. Focus. He’s still the guy who hurt me.
And sent me a cake.
And waited for me in the dark.
His nervousness infiltrated the silence like another person between them.
“Was Savannah mad that you left last night?” Max asked.
“Not really. But she will be mad now. She called this morning, and I forgot to call her back. Do you mind if I just send her a quick text?”
Rather than finding fault that he hadn’t called her back, she admired his dedication to his family. “No, go ahead.”
He did, and as he texted her, his lips rose to a smile.
“You really love your family, don’t you?”
“Sure. Don’t you?” he asked as he put his phone in his pocket.
“Yeah, I guess. But I don’t have any siblings.” Why am I telling you about my family? Focus, Max.
“I can’t even imagine life without them. My mom died when I was eleven, after being sick for years, and afterward, I tried to step into her shoes and take care of them, but I never really pulled it off.”
Her resolve chipped away as she imagined him as a little boy, crushed by the death of his mother and trying to be strong for his brothers and sister.
He continued in a solemn voice. “I mean, I protected them, which was easy. I’m big, so people didn’t mess with them too much, but I couldn’t be Mom.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t even come close.”
They walked along the street that led to town. Goose bumps rose on Max’s arms, and she wished she’d grabbed her jacket from the car.
“I’m sure they appreciated all that you were able to do,” she offered.
“You know, that’s just it. After years of hoping and praying that she’d be okay, I was so broken by her death that I really didn’t do much. I think I let them down, and when it was time to go away to college, I was kind of relieved to get out from under all that guilt.”
His emotions were so raw, as if he’d just experienced leaving his family yesterday instead of years earlier. Max couldn’t stifle the urge to comfort him. He smiled as she wrapped her arm into his.
“I’ve never told anyone that before.”
“No?” He trusts me. I wish I could trust him.
He shook his head. “It feels good to tell you. I want to tell you.” He looked down at her and she was drawn into the sincere and hopeful way he looked at her.
She felt like metal, and he was the magnet, but as she felt his legs stop walking, it was too much. Her determination was fading, and she needed to hang on to it so that she didn’t make the same mistake twice. She drew her eyes back to the sidewalk and broke the connection. Her rapid pulse, however, didn’t take the hint.
“Everyone expected me to help Dad run the ranch, and as much as I wanted to help him, it would mean reliving those memories—the memories of what I couldn’t do—and that was too much for me.”
“I’m sure your family understands,” she said.
“No. I never told them. I still haven’t. I can’t. I’m too ashamed.”
There it was again, another crushing blow to her resolve. What man admitted to being ashamed of anything, much less something so intimate?
“I don’t think I ever did more than any other older sibling does. I let them crawl into my bed at night. I listened when they cried. I told them everything would be okay. You know, normal stuff.”
It was after midnight, and because of the festival, the restaurants and cafés were still open. Max paused, taking in the sparkling lights that glistened through the large windows along the sidewalk and the sound of music that filtered out of the restaurant doors, soaking in the romantic feel of the little town as she listened to Treat.
“I wish I had a brother to listen when I cried when I was younger. I would have done anything to have someone to confide in,” she admitted. “I still wish I did.”
“You have Kaylie,” he said, then winced.
“Yeah, I do.” She’d almost forgotten that he’d met Kaylie and the rest of the wedding party in Nassau.
“I have to confess, I called Blake to ask for advice about reaching you, and he gave me Kaylie’s number. He said that if anyone could reach you, it would be her. It was Kaylie’s idea to try to get you to come outside…for me.”
Kaylie? Chaz’s texts. Ugh, how embarrassing.
“You called her?” She didn’t know if she should be flattered that he’d go to such an extent or angry that he’d put his nose into her personal business.
“I did,” he said with a straight face.
When she smiled, he did as well.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to talk to you,” he said honestly.
“How long were you waiting outside the festival?”
“Since you wouldn’t see me when I brought the cake.”
“Oh, my God. You’ve been waiting since dinnertime?” Flattered. Definitely flattered.
“Kaylie called and said that Chaz couldn’t get you to leave early, so…”
Is there anything he won’t do? She had trouble deciding if that was good or bad.
Max’s stomach growled.
“Wanna grab a bite?” he asked. “I haven’t eaten all day, and you’re obviously hungry.”
Max was surprised to realize that she no longer felt sick to her stomach. “Yes, I’d like that.” Way to stand your ground.
They sat in the back of a little Italian restaurant. Max scanned the menu. Although she was hungry, she knew she wouldn’t be able to eat a whole meal while butterflies were tap dancing in her stomach, not to mention how late it was. When she’d tried to share a meal with…the guy she refused to think about…he’d called her cheap and gross. She’d never again asked another man to share.
“It’s late. Would you like to share a dish instead of getting two whole meals?”
She looked up at him incredulously. How could he possibly know?
“I’m sorry. Are you not a sharer? I forget that some people don’t like to eat off of other people’s plates.”
Damn him. Chalk that up to one more thing to like about him. “No. I love to share. I just…Most guys hate to share food. Why don’t you choose? I’m no good at making food decisions,” she admitted.
“Most women don’t like men to order for them, either.”
His smile held so much contentedness that Max almost reached for his hand. Instead, she put her hands in her lap. After what happened last night, she wasn’t taking any chances. She’d listen to his explanation, thank him for the meal, and then go home to bed. Alone. Really.
TREAT HAD NEVER felt as relaxed during a meal as he did with Max right then. They each had a glass of wine, and they laughed about the size of the cake he’d sent her.
“I have to admit, no one’s ever sent me an enormous chocolate cake before,” she said.
He knew she was being careful with what she said and how she said it. He couldn’t ignore the tension running across her shoulders each time their forks clinked on their shared plate, and she pulled back, as if she’d just realized that they were getting too close. But there was no denying that she was opening up to him, which meant her heart might be receptive, too.
He bided his time as long as he was able, in case she heard what he had to say and decided to bolt. He knew from last night that the possibility was as real as the food they’d just shared. He asked the waiter for two more glasses of wine, but not without first asking Max.
“Yes, thank you,” she’d answered with a tentative smile.
“May I?” he asked, moving the candle and the condiments from the center of the table so that the space between them was clear. The fewer obstacles, the better.
“I don’t want to spoil a wonderful evening, but I have been thinking about you all day. Hell, I’ve been thinking about you for six months, seven days, and I have no idea how many hours.” He watched her eyebrows rise in surprise. “Max, the last thing I want is for you to misread me.”
“I don’t think I misread you,” she said with a shake of her head.
“No, you didn’t. I wanted to be the guy you were with, and when I saw you in Nassau and knew you’d spent the night with that other guy, I realized I’d lost my chance. You saw an ugly, jealous, petty side of me that I don’t think has ever reared its ugly head.” He ran a hand through his thick hair, thinking of the condescending look he’d given her when he’d seen her wearing the same clothes she’d had on the night before, her cheeks flushed, her hair tousled. Just the thought of it made jealousy simmer within him again. “That’s not true. There was one time in college when my brother Dane slept with my girlfriend. I probably shared that look then, too.”