Sage stood in the doorway.
Dressed in a low-cut, green sweater that hugged her curves, her eyes were round in surprise as she stared back at Shane. She’d worn her mane of auburn hair down for the first time since Max had met her, and the effect, along with the tight sweater, would have brought any man not in love with his wife to his knees.
He turned back to Shane to gauge his reaction and found him breathing fast, his hands curled around the edge of the bar, the knuckles white as he watched Sage. When she moved toward him, Shane jerked back as if he’d been struck. Reaching over the bar, he snagged his keys and bit out, “I’ve had enough torture for one day.”
Max would have stopped him if his home weren’t a straight shot down the road from the bar. That and the fact Shane was more angry than drunk. So he let him go. There was no talking to him in that condition.
Max watched as Shane moved past Sage without looking at her. Punching the door open with his fist, Shane disappeared into the night as Max watched with a heavy heart. He turned to Sage when the door slammed shut. He couldn’t help Shane. He hoped like hell she could.
Six
Operation Make Shane Jealous
When the door slammed hard behind Shane, alarm streaked down my spine, and I looked at Maxine for guidance. How was I supposed to fight for him if he refused to be in my presence? Maxine looked off balance as she stared down at Jake, and my confidence we could help Shane began to weaken.
Turning my head to where Jake lay on the floor, I watched him shake his head as he tried to stand. I’d arrived in time to hear Shane tell Jake to stay away from me, and then watched helplessly as he punched Jake. I didn’t know what transpired before I walked in, but the look on his face when he caught me standing in the door spoke of anger, maybe even rage, but certainly not longing for me.
“I’m so sorry, Jake,” I said when he finally found his feet.
A slow grin pulled across his mouth as he rubbed his jaw. “I knew when I signed on for Operation Make Shane Jealous, he might retaliate. It was worth it, though, just to see his face when I said I wanted to take you up to the hot springs . . . he wanted to murder me.”
I blinked several times in confusion, then asked, “Operation what?”
He turned his head toward Maxine, and her eyes rounded innocently.
“Christ,” Max grumbled, looking back and forth between Jake and Maxine. “You’re playing one of your games, aren’t you?”
My attention shot to Maxine and I scowled. “You said no games.”
“And I meant it,” she defended, crossing her arms. “However, if someone else wants to get involved, that’s entirely different.”
“But he punched Jake,” I pointed out the obvious, and she lowered her eyes. It was clear she didn’t expect that to happen.
“He hasn’t punched Chester yet,” Jake put in. “If he lets loose on him, you know he’s hit rock bottom. They’ve been friends since childhood.”
The bar grew silent and all eyes turned to Maxine. An electric current coiled tightly in the air right before Max erupted. “You pulled Chester into this shit?” Max roared. “Jesus, Maxine. You don’t push a man like Shane this way.”
“He volunteered,” Maxine argued.
“The hell he did,” Max shouted.
Maxine rolled her eyes, exasperation written all over her face. “Fine.” She sighed. “He was coerced by Martha. But he saw the righteousness of the plan, Maximilian.”
“It’s like talking to a brick wall,” Max grit out, rubbing his hand across his face. “You can’t force this shit and you know it. And playing his friends against him will only make it worse. You know Shane keeps a tight hold on his control and you’re pushing him to lose it. Have you lost your mind?”
Mia stepped up and raised her hand to his face, righteous indignation playing across her features.
“I’m sorry, but did you just say ‘you can’t force this shit’? Aren’t you the same man who ordered me to stay in Trails End when I told you I wanted to leave?”
“This isn’t the same thing,” Max argued.
“Why? Because you say so?” she asked sarcastically.
“Babe,” was Max’s only reply as if that was all that needed to be said.
Mia rolled her eyes and then turned to me. “Thor over there has selective memory. He insisted I stay. Said, While you’re here, we're gonna ride this until we fall off battered and bruised or hold on tight ‘cause it’s what we both want.”
“You’re wearin’ my ring, aren’t you?” Max replied arrogantly, crossing his arms.