Thursday Nights (The Charistown Series) (29 page)

“How does that feel?” Janie gently pressed a cold pack to Owen’s bruised jaw. With sad eyes, she watched as he placed his large hand over her smaller one and slowly removed it from his face. They sat on the sofa in the family room of his small house on Union Street.

“Janie, we need to talk.” She knew the direction this conversation was heading. “It was Max, wasn’t it?”

“What was Max?”

“When we first started talking, you said that you were falling for someone, but you were the only one falling. It was Max you were falling for, wasn’t it?” The kindness in his voice told her that he was genuinely interested in her answer.

“Yeah, Owen, it was. Why are you asking?” She tried to keep her tone even, but her curiosity was piqued.

“Because I saw the way you looked at him tonight. And from the moment he approached the table to the very second we walked away, there was something in your eyes…something different.” Janie tried to interrupt him, but he pressed on. “Something that isn’t there when you look at me.”

She almost denied it; she wanted to. It would have been so much easier to fall in love with Owen, but that isn’t how her heart worked.

“I’m really sorry, Owen. I was going to tell you tonight when you offered me a penny for my thoughts…I wouldn’t have even taken your money,” she smiled shyly.

“I know this isn’t my business, but I would still like to consider you my friend. And as a friend, I’m telling you to try to go easy on him. I don’t know what went down after high school because I left town, but I can tell you that Chloe was as evil as they came when I knew her. I can only imagine how much worse it got as they got older.”

Janie squeezed his hand. “Owen, you are an amazing man, and of course, we will still be friends. But Max can’t be an option for me. I don’t doubt that Chloe was as bad as you say she was. I feel bad for him, I do. But he never let me into that part of his life. He never even gave me a chance. I can’t deal with that kind of relationship anymore. I won’t.”

“I understand. You are a pretty special woman, Janie Silver.” He walked her to the door, and they hugged goodnight.

Is This A Bribe?

The sunlight streamed into Max’s room and woke him from the best sleep he could remember having in more than ten years. It was a sound, dreamless slumber that left him feeling well rested and surprisingly refreshed. The previous night still felt surreal. After he finally came to terms with the fact that he was in love with Janie, he found her with another man, he received a verbal ass-kicking from Gage, and then proceeded to watch his beer go down the hatch and then back up for a good portion of the night. Yet, he still felt clearer that he had in ages, like the cobwebs were finally knocked out of his skull.

He felt alive. He felt free. He felt like an asshole, and he knew he had some major apologizing to do to several of the important people in his life. If he was to ever get Janie to forgive him for the hell he had put her through for the past several weeks—okay, the past seven months, really—he had to do something. And he knew he couldn’t do it alone. He needed a hand, and he knew exactly who to beg for help.

Excitement swirled through him. He just needed the right kind of bribery. But first, there was someone he needed to call.

Palming his phone off the nightstand, he lay in bed and dialed the number that was almost as familiar as his own.

“Did you finally pull you head out of your ass?” the gravelly voice asked.

“How many apologies does one person get before you cut him out for life?” Max answered.

“You’ll never know, my brother…you’ll never know.” The sound of Gage’s laugh instantly eased the tension Max didn’t realize he was feeling. Putting his arm behind his head, he stared out his window, focusing on the cloudless sky and the trees in the throes of autumn foliage.

“You’re sounding lazy, Max. Get out of bed. You have a shitload of groveling to do today.” Gruff laughter filled the phone just before the dead air hit.

“I know, honey, I know. Yes, he is a fucker.” Lyla stretched out on the couch with her phone tucked between her shoulder and her ear, listening to Janie rant and swing from one mood to the next.

“I mean, seriously,
now
he
loves
me? You know he said he loved me, right?” Sarcastic Janie was one of Lyla’s favorites.

“Yes, Jane. I was there. I heard the whole thing.”

“He didn’t
love
me last week. He only said it because Owen was there. Why not just pee on my leg for Christ’s sake?”

“Jane, he did love you last week. And speaking of Nice Owen, did you give him the friends speech or not? Because you certainly looked a little more than friendly last night.”

Janie winced at Lyla’s tone. She knew she had poured on the sweet when Max showed up swinging from his vine like Tarzan but she couldn’t help it. “Oh, Ly, I felt so bad.”

Uh oh
, Lyla thought reaching for her coffee,
here comes Sad Janie again
.

“I didn’t even have to tell him. Pretty much as soon as we got back to his house he asked me about my feelings for Max. He said he could see the love in my eyes or some shit like that.”

“Janie, warn me before you say things like that!” Lyla gasped. “I almost shot hot coffee out of my nose, and that would have hurt.” Lyla heard a small laugh peal out of her phone. She had to admit, Janie was kind of entertaining when she was in mood-swing mode.

“I just can’t believe that son of a bitch decides he finally wants me, and I’m supposed to what? Jump for joy?” Which is exactly what her traitorous heart did when Max showed up, professing his love to her. Well, not to her; he told Owen. “
Hmph
! He couldn’t even tell me he was married? Honestly, Ly, who does that?”

“Jane, my doorbell is ringing,” Lyla said as the bell rang for the second time. “And I’m expecting a delivery. Sorry. Please drive carefully and come by after work. We can talk about it more over pizza and cocktails.”

Disconnecting the call, Lyla opened her door to a very sorry-looking Max DeLucca. Grinning, she backed away from her door, leaving it open, and headed down the hallway to her kitchen.

Max looked into her house from the doorway but didn’t make a move to enter. Was this a set-up? He had heard about the things Lyla Dalton was capable of when angry, and he knew that she had to be pretty fucking pissed at him right about now. Were their hookers waiting to pounce on him? Had she hired thugs to beat him down? Was she going to poison him? He expected nothing less from Lyla, and he deserved nothing more. He had a lot of apologizing to do just to get him within earshot of Janie, and then the real work would start.

“Max, you gonna stand out there all day? Get your pathetic ass in here and shut the door.” Lyla’s smirk turned into a mega-watt smile.

What was so funny? He cautiously entered the house, closing the door with his booted foot and presented her with a large, golden box tied with a brown bow. Her brow curved curiously as her hands greedily accepted the gift.

“Is this a bribe?”

Max grimaced and shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s more like a ‘thank you’ in advance?” She immediately opened the lid, lifted a raspberry truffle out of its sleeve and took a bite. Her eyes slid closed as she savored the divine flavor of crushed raspberries and dark chocolate melting on her tongue.

“Yes, Max, I’ll help you.” She opened her eyes as she swallowed the little piece of heaven. “But my assistance has nothing to do with your bribe, err...
thank you
. I knew you would come to me eventually.” Her smile was knowing. “And I promised myself that when you finally woke up, I would be here to help you clean up the clusterfuck you got yourself into.” With his shoulders slumped in resignation, she continued. “Before you think I am doing this just for Janie, know that I am doing it for you, too. I can feel your pain. You’ve been wearing it like a second skin since the day we met, and the closer you and Janie have gotten, the more bruised it’s become. And Janie is the answer…your answer.”

Leaning over the counter, Lyla gripped her hands over his forearms and brought her face as close to his as her height would allow. “But you need to think good and hard about what you want…because if you ever hurt her again, the way you have been recently…well, let’s just say, you’ll think poor Dick had it easy. We clear?”

Max silently nodded his agreement.

“Words, Max, I need words.” Lyla grinned again.

“We are very clear, Lyla…very, very clear.”

Happy with the amount of fear and gratitude she sensed exuding off of Max, she handed him a mug of coffee and walked out of the kitchen.

As he followed her into the family room, a wave of excitement coursed through his system. If she was willing to help him he may have a chance of getting Janie to hear him out. That’s all he wanted: just a chance to make things right.

“You haven’t touched your coffee,” she said, nodding to the mug she’d placed on the table in front of him.

“Ly, no offense,” he scoffed sheepishly, “but I’m not sure I want to drink anything you’re offering me right now.”

“Don’t be a dumbass. I already told you I want to see you and Janie together. Why would I kill you?” Leaning on the heel of her hand, she tapped her index finger against the side of her brow thoughtfully. “Besides, you’re a big guy—how would I get rid of your body?”

Max’s jaw dropped, and Lyla broke out in hysterics. “I am just fucking with you…Jesus, Max, what do you think of me?”

“I think you’re the scariest five-foot-one-inch woman I have ever met.” He snorted, and then awareness clicked in. “Wait…you said you want me and Janie together. What about Owen? Isn’t she with him?” That last part came through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.

“Relax, Max. You’re gonna crack a tooth. There isn’t really anything going on between Janie and Nice O. But don’t tell her I told you that.”

“Nice O?” Max’s perplexed face would have made Lyla laugh if she didn’t know how much he was hurting over his past. Clearly Max didn’t put that particular adjective in front of Owen’s name.

“Never mind that. So, tell me your plan to win my girl back…and it best be good because she is really upset and equally pissed and has every right to be.”

Max figured it was best to start his story from the beginning. So he did. And as he talked about his past and shared his heartache, he could see a multitude of emotions play over Lyla’s face. He could see her relating to certain parts of his story while aching at others. When he spoke of his parents’ love and support, he swore her eyes began to water, but she quickly went to the kitchen for more coffee, and when she returned her eyes were clear and dry. When he told her about Gage’s unwavering friendship, he watched a small smile pull at her lips, and he wondered if she was thinking about her relationship with Janie or if her thoughts had also gone to Gage.

By the time he had finished he felt emotionally exhausted but relieved. Sharing his story felt like shedding a hundred pounds; he was finally letting someone else into his world, and he wasn’t running away. It felt…good.