Authors: Melissa Foster
“Text fight?” she asked.
Chaz sighed. “No.” He responded to the texts, and his phone continued to buzz several times in a row.
She lifted her head and opened her eyes. “Anything I can do?” she asked.
He finally put the phone down on his desk and looked at her. “Max, we’re so slow tonight. Why don’t you take off?”
She snapped to attention. “What?”
“You heard me. Just take off early. We’ve got this covered.”
Adrenaline drove her to the edge of his desk. “What’s going on? I’ve never left a festival early, and you know we’re anything but slow tonight.” Max rubbed her temples. “You know you can’t handle it without me, either. So what the hell is going on?”
“You’re exhausted,” he said.
“Yeah, so? I’m tired, so what? I can still do my job. Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped my boundaries by being so worn out. I take full responsibility, but there’s no reason to make me leave early.”
Shit. I’d better pull it together
.
When he didn’t respond, she said, “I love my job, Chaz. Have I done something wrong?”
“Relax. No. Even when you’re tired, you do twice the work of anyone else.”
Max felt unexpected tears pushing at her eyes. “Then what is it? Why do you need to get rid of me?”
There was a knock at the door, and Max moved to answer it. “Hi, Mark. What’s up?”
Mark was one of the temporary festival staffers. He carried an enormous white box into the office and set it on the table.
“Just got this delivery,” he said on his way back out the door.
“Were you expecting something?” Chaz asked.
She shook her head and lifted the lid. The smell itself was enough to send her stomach into a flurry of desire—and not the sexual kind. Chaz hovered over her shoulder.
“Sponsor?” he asked.
“Probably,” she said, then dipped her finger into the thick chocolate frosting and licked it off. She removed the card that was taped to the inside of the box and opened it. “Maybe it’s from Café Deluxe, that new bakery sponsor. Oh my God, that’s delicious.”
She arched a brow while she read the card aloud while grinning.
“Max, I hope this helps ease the pain I’ve caused you. Dive right in...” Max lowered the note, unable to control her slack jaw or the rush of her pulse.
Treat
. She snapped the card shut as a flush warmed her cheeks.
“O-kay, then. Someone did something wrong,” Chaz said. “It must have been an awfully bad thing to send you a cake big enough to feed an army.”
I said I wanted to bury my face in chocolate cake
.
Damn it. Why do you have to make this so hard?
She closed the top of the box. “Why don’t you take it home to Kaylie and the kids?”
“Max.” Chaz shook his head. “I think that whoever sent this probably meant for you to have it. That’s not a cheap cake.”
“It’s okay. He can afford it. He eats cake like this for breakfast.”
And women like me for dinner.
TREAT HADN’T EATEN all day. He wasn’t surprised when Max refused to see him, but he wasn’t going to give up on them that easily. If nothing else, if she wouldn’t let him into her life, then at least she could let him really talk with her about his feelings and allow him to try and explain himself more effectively.
He hoped the cake might sweeten her up just a little and bring that thick wall she’d erected between them down just long enough for her to listen, and to understand, even if only a little, to what he had to say. After talking with his father today, Treat was even more convinced that what he was feeling for Max was far bigger than like and was bordering on the one thing he’d tried to avoid his whole life.
When he wasn’t trying to figure out how to make her listen, he was telling himself that it was okay to get close to her. That if he fell for her, she wouldn’t die like his mother had. But even as he repeatedly tried to convince himself that the fear was unfounded, he never really quite believed it.
After all but the last two cars pulled out of the parking lot and the interior festival lights went dark, Treat waited in the cover of night for the back gates to open one last time.
His pulse raced when he saw her walking beneath the glow of the lighted gate beside Chaz. Her shoulders were rounded forward, as though they were too heavy for her sexy little frame to support. Treat had the urge to run and swoop her into his arms, for her head to rest against his chest while he held her, safe and warm. Chaz carried the enormous cake box that Treat had sent, and when Chaz went to his car without giving the cake back to Max, his gut clenched.
Treat went to Max’s driver's side door and knocked on the window, startling her into a scream.
Seconds later, Chaz was running for him. Treat held his hands up. “Chaz, it’s me, Treat. I didn’t mean to startle her.”
“Treat? What are you...”
He watched understanding dawn on Chaz, while embarrassment consumed Max and caused her to cover her face with her hands.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to talk to Max, and I didn’t want to interrupt her at work,” Treat explained.
Chaz looked at Max. “Max?”
“It’s fine,” she answered.
Chaz turned his back and leaned closer to Treat. “The cake? Impressive. Kaylie asked me to get Max to leave early for you. I tried, but you know Max.”
I hope to get to know her even better.
“Thank you. Sorry I had Kaylie try to get her outside for a bit,” Treat said, though he wasn’t really sorry.
Chaz nodded. “Pretty damned romantic. You realize you’re setting the bar pretty high for us normal guys, right?”
Treat smiled. He watched Chaz drive away, and a minute later, Max got out of her car. “You scared the crap out of me,” she said.
“I know. I wasn’t thinking.”
She crossed her arms, and he couldn’t help but smile at the way she was so obviously steeling herself against him. Chinking that wall into place.
“Do you have my purse?” Her clipped words and crossed arms contrasted sharply against the hurt in her eyes.
“I do,” he said.
When he didn’t move, she said, “Well? Can I have it?”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” How could he have forgotten? He retrieved the purse, and as she climbed back into her car, Treat gently touched her arm. “Max, all I want to do is talk. Nothing else. Please. I think I owe you that much.”
“You owe me that much? Isn’t that a little arrogant?” she asked.
“I thought it was better than saying
you
owed me anything at all, which you don’t.” He saw her resolve soften. “Please? Just take a walk with me? I’ll keep my hands to myself. I won’t let us get caught up in any hanky-panky.”
She stepped from the car with a reluctant sigh. “Hanky-panky? I haven’t heard that since I was twelve.”
“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?