Neighborly Complications (Stories of Serendipity #1) (9 page)

Max expelled a long breath, and seemed to be relived. At least he didn’t ask her for the details of her jilting.

“Want to come inside? I can make some iced tea.”

She nodded silently, before following him in the back door to his kitchen, where he set about making the tea.

Claire gasped as she looked at the warm wood of the kitchen table. It looked like a delicate piece, hardly something to eat on every day, but as she studied it, she saw that it was really well-made. Her hands stroked the wood, admiring it. She looked up at Max. “It’s beautiful. Did you make it?”

He nodded in response.

“I’ve had a lot of spare time the last few years. I needed something to occupy my thoughts.”

She nodded.

“It was hard, you know? I don’t know what Summer told you, but Katherine and I grew up together.”

Claire spoke quietly. “Summer didn’t tell me much. She said it was your story to tell.”

He nodded. “Yeah, well…” He finished with the tea, and brought the pitcher to the table along with two glasses filled with ice. Claire wasn’t sure how this had turned around from her apology to his story, but she was willing to listen.

“I’d known her my entire life. Our parents were friends, and it was expected that we’d be friends. When we were eight, she told me we would get married someday.” He smiled at the memory. “We’d been playing on the swing set in her yard, and the words had sounded so simple coming from her, so true that I never questioned them. I’d just kept pushing her higher on the swing.” Max seemed lost in his thoughts, and Claire felt a pang of loss at his words. He’d really loved her. Katherine was the love of his life

“We dated all through High school, and afterwards we got married and moved to Waco to go to school. She’d gotten a scholarship to Baylor, and I went to the technical institute there to get my degree while she went for nursing.” Claire’s eyes were wide as she took it all in. “It was such a waste, she could have been anything. She was so smart, and Baylor isn’t a school that you go to for nursing, really. But that’s what she wanted to be. She said she wanted to be the one that
really
helped people.”

He took a long drink of his tea, and Claire listened to him swallow thickly. It was the only sound in the room.

“So she became a nurse, and got a job at a hospital there, working with terminal cancer patients. I got a job as a grant-writer for a historical preservation society in the city. After I obtained funding, I would work on the remodeling of the old buildings. It was my dream job.” She watched him blink rapidly, trying to stop tears. “We were living simply, saving up for a family. She was so practical.” He stopped talking and looked at Claire, who was fighting tears herself. Then he stopped talking, she reached across the table and took his hand, squeezing it gently, trying to impart comfort.

“It’s okay, Max. You don’t have to tell me.”

“I do have to tell you. I haven’t told anyone the whole story before. I want you to know.” Using his free hand, he pressed against his eyeballs, and his voice took on a different quality that she hadn’t heard before. Grittier.

“One night, she called me and asked me to pick up some wine at the liquor store. I told her that I never got the right kind, and she needed to go pick it out herself.” A sob escaped, and Max sniffed hard. “She got caught in the middle of a robbery with a cowboy liquor store owner who wouldn’t give up his cash and my wife was shot in the stomach with a sawed off shotgun. She bled out right there on the dirty liquor store floor.” The words poured out of him, as he retrieved his hand from the death grip that Claire had it in, and put his face in both hands. “I passed the ambulance on my way home.” A muffled sob escaped him, and the jarring sound rang in her ears. “I didn’t know it was her.”

Claire watched the breakdown then. She watched as his grief washed over him, as he clutched his head with his hands. Sobs wracked his body, as he let it all out. Standing and walking around the table, Claire needed to touch him. She wanted to make him better, but she didn’t know how, so she went behind him and hugged his back, while his body shook with sobs.

Abruptly, he swiveled his body, and clutched Claire’s hips, positioning her between his legs and burying his face in her belly. He cried and Claire held him while he did it. She could tell he hadn’t cried for Katherine. Not like this. His entire body shook with deep, wracking sobs that made her ache. Something about the Max she knew, the way he was clutching her, told her he’d never been this vulnerable with anyone else in a long time.

Claire’s heart broke for Max. As he sobbed into her stomach, his arms went around her hips, clutching her closer to him, as if he were scared to let her go. She whispered words of encouragement to him, sure he wasn’t hearing her, but whispering to him nonetheless.

“Let it out, Max…You have a right to these feelings…Own them. They’re yours…Guilt is normal…” She was flailing around for things to say that he hadn’t heard before, although he’d probably heard it all. But she wanted to make him feel better. She’d had no idea he still carried around so much guilt.

Which would make staying here that much harder.

After what seemed like hours of him crying into her stomach, clutching her backside, his sobs finally diminished into ragged sniffles. He was silent for a while, still clutching her ass, but he did eventually lift up his head to reveal a blotchy face and red, swollen eyes. Claire’s heart swelled at the sight of this man who’d lost his love. Then he spoke.

“I suppose someone’s going to take away my man card after that little display.” He smiled a forced grin, and Claire saw through the attempt at levity after such a raw display of emotion.

“Yeah, but you used it as an opportunity to cop a feel of my ass, so consider your man card reinstated.” He barked out a harsh laugh that sounded like it hurt, as he squeezed her ass one last time before dropping his hands and raking them through his hair. Claire didn’t move, preferring to stand between his knees, which he relaxed against her legs.

“Jesus, Claire. That was rough. I’m sorry for unloading all that on you.”

She stroked his hair thoughtfully, unsure of what to say next. “It’s okay, Max.”

“You were right.”

“About what?”

“Owning my feelings. It’s my guilt. I need to own it, then get rid of it. I can’t let it just sit and fester like it’s been doing.”

Taken aback, Claire reached out and rubbed a curly brown lock of his hair between her fingers. His hair was thick and incredibly soft, and Claire realized at that moment that she couldn’t let Max be the reason she left. She wanted to be his friend.

Max’s hands drifted back to her hips and pulled her back between his legs. He rested his cheek on her stomach again.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” She kept her hand in his hair, stroking softly, enjoying this moment of intimacy they were sharing, although she wished it hadn’t been all about his dead wife. The love of his life.

“For letting me fall apart on you.” He nuzzled his face in the softness of her belly, and she suddenly felt self-conscious. The realization of his hands on her hips and his face so close to her core sent a sharp needle of desire racing through her. How inappropriate.

Max heaved a sigh and fisted a hand in her shirt, while the other went around behind her to pull her closer. He lifted her tee shirt and left an open-mouthed kiss on the soft part of her belly that turned the needle of desire into a raging inferno.

She knew he wasn’t in his right mind. He was delirious with grief. He had no notion of what he was doing to her.

“My insides have been hollow for so long.” He mumbled while he continued kissing her stomach, leaving Claire breathless, unable to speak. Max stuck his tongue inside her belly button and swirled it around, sending a shock of sensation to her toes.

“Max…” She tried to make it a warning for him to stop, but it came out sounding wanton. God help her, she didn’t know what she wanted from Max. His hands gripped her waist, and he pulled her down to her knees so that she was almost eye-level with him.

Holding her face between his hands, he looked into her eyes. His own eyes were filled with grief mixed with desire.

“You’re the first woman I’ve wanted in a long time, Claire. I didn’t know it would ever be possible again.” His mouth found hers in a tender kiss that took her breath away. His lips nibbled hers softly, then his tongue snaked across her bottom lip before suckling on it delicately. She was unaware of the whimper she let out before she opened her mouth to his, allowing him to deepen the soft kiss as he pulled her closer to him.

Claire couldn’t think. All she could do was feel. With his mouth on hers, her emotions swirled around in a tumultuous mess. She couldn’t remember why she’d come, only that she didn’t want to leave. Gone were thoughts of selling her house. Gone were thoughts of overwhelming home repairs and remodels. Gone was the ghost in her house. All she was aware of was Max.

His mouth continued to explore hers. Claire had no idea how long she kneeled there, being kissed into oblivion. Eventually, she remembered where she was, and utilized every ounce of her control to pull away from Max’s tenacious grip.

“Stop Max. I don’t want this.”

The hurt in his eyes was obvious. “What?” He was gasping for breath, and she felt awful. He had just opened himself up to her, and she was turning him away.

“We’re friends, Max. I can’t do more.” She took a deep breath and ignored the guilt eating away at her insides. “I-I’m sorry.” She stood up and ran out the door, before she changed her mind.

T
he next morning, Claire awoke with her feet tucked into the covers neatly and a strange need to accomplish goals on her house. She usually preferred to sleep with her feet out of the covers, and realized that even though she habitually kicked the covers off before she went to sleep at night, she’d been waking up all tucked in in the morning. Thinking of Edie, she realized her little girl ghost was being a total sweetheart and tucking her in while she slept.

She rushed through two cups of coffee while making a mental list. She needed to finish stripping wallpaper and start painting, but to keep from going crazy, she would start painting the two rooms she’d already stripped. Then she would strip and paint each room until she was finished. She was eager to see some progress made on the inside of the house.

She was still undecided as to whether or not she would stay, but she knew that she would get more money for the house if she fixed it up a little before she sold it. Of course, if Max bought it, he’d already offered to pay more than it was worth, but she felt like that was taking advantage of him. Especially after yesterday.

Guilt rushed in on her new-found euphoria, and she thought of yesterday. His grief, his raw emotion still made her ache inside. Claire had no idea what she was going to do with Max. She felt like she’d screwed something up yesterday, but she was at a loss as to what to do to change things between them. The last thing she wanted to do was make him feel worse, but there was no way she could start a romantic relationship with him. She had to set the record straight, and he’d have to come around. If he couldn’t handle just being friends, it might make her decision for her.

Using her screwdriver, Claire opened the five-gallon bucket of paint and poured some into her paint tray. The buttery yellow color would be a warm change on the gray plaster walls. She couldn’t wait to see how it would look. She anxiously started rolling it on, pleased with the results.

Claire hummed to herself as she worked, not minding the solitude. She’d always been one to be happy by herself. Sometimes happier alone than in a group of people. Claire was comfortable in her skin, most of the time. The only time in recent memory that she could remember not being comfortable was when she kissed Max. That had definitely made her uncomfortable. Itchy, like he was inside her soul.

Everything about him made her uncomfortable, especially the way she felt so damn comfortable around him. Like he was supposed to be with her. Yeah, that made her uncomfortable.

Still painting, she tried to think of other things. Like the house, and how quickly she’d be able to get rooms stripped of wallpaper and painted. Where she hadn’t looked for the gold yet. She hadn’t searched the exterior of the property. Would Uncle Eddie have buried it outside somewhere? For anybody to find? She didn’t really think so, but then again, it wasn’t inside the house, not anywhere she’d looked anyways. Maybe she could trust Summer to help her look for it. She’d lived here her whole life, maybe she knew where it was.

Thinking of Summer made her hum the Theme from A Summer Place. Of course, it also made her remember a movie she’d seen on TV a few years ago, a Stephen King miniseries about a haunted mansion. Which made her think of Edie…

She’d felt better after talking to Uncle Eddie, maybe she should try talking to her ghost. There wasn’t anybody here to hear her, what could it hurt?

Tentatively, she called out, “Edie? You here?”

The hairs on the back of her neck rose under the bandana she had tied there to keep her hair out of her face.

“Can I talk to you a minute?”

Claire didn’t feel anything different, but the prickling didn’t stop, so she assumed that the little girl was still there.

“Um…I can see why you’re staying here, in your home and all. It’s really a beautiful house, and I’m trying to fix it up really nice again.” She spoke in the sweet tone of voice that she reserved for small children. And she felt sort of stupid, but she felt confident that there was a ghost here, and she could only hope she was right about who it was. “But wouldn’t you like to move on and be with your family? Your mom and dad, and Eddie? What’s keeping you here?”

She didn’t get any response. Not that she’d really known what to expect, but she stayed still and watched the room around her anyway, senses on high alert for anything out of the ordinary.

Nothing.

Sighing, she turned to finish the last wall with the roller, before getting the ladder and working on the edges around the ceiling.