by Reese Ryan
“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you, Kayleigh.”
“Will you need clothes? I’m sure I have something you could borrow. We could swing by my place and take a look,” Zora offered.
“I have a change of clothing in my workout bag in the trunk, but thank you, Zora,” Quinn said absently.
I guess I’m really doing this.
With her overnight arrangements settled, the conversation returned to its normal ebb and flow. But as Max took his seat, there was still a hint of tension between him and Cole.
“You’re not upset that I passed on staying with you, are you?” Quinn whispered, nudging Cole.
“No, of course not. I’m just glad you’ll be at brunch tomorrow.” He flashed that million-dollar smile, the one she could never resist reciprocating. “I have to do something for my dad, but I’ll be ready to leave in an hour or so. If you don’t mind waiting that long, I’d be happy to do a walk-through with you at Kayleigh’s place.”
“No need. I’m exhausted, so I’m leaving in a bit. Thanks anyway.”
“Then text me once you’re settled, so I know you’re okay.” Cole hugged her, then left the table.
Max peered at her for a moment, then got up and left the table, too.
Quinn sighed softly.
You don’t owe him an explanation. Just let it go.
But the hurt look on Max’s face tugged at her chest for reasons she couldn’t explain. Or maybe she could. But the truth was simply too painful to bear.
Eight
“Cole!” Max hadn’t meant to call his brother so loudly, but he was seething with anger as he waited patiently for Cole to finish talking to their parents.
Cole glanced at him and rolled his eyes before stalking over. He folded his arms, his legs planted wide.
“What is it now, Max? Is this our quarterly conversation where you accuse me of being a self-interested ingrate who isn’t toeing the family line?”
“Can we talk?” Max refused to acknowledge his brother’s flippant remark.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Cole raised a brow.
“Privately,” Max said. He turned and walked toward the back office, near the restrooms. Max used his keys to open the door and they went inside.
“Are you deliberately trying to sabotage this deal with Bazemore Farms?” Max sat on the front edge of the desk.
“Why on earth would you ask a dumbass question like that?” Cole’s nostrils flared.
Max forced himself not to react to his brother’s raised voice. “Then let me rephrase the question. What the hell is going on with you and Quinn?”
“First, I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Second, Quinn was pretty clear about it. She and I are friends. We have been for a few years.”
“You never mentioned being friends with Dixon Bazemore’s granddaughter. Not once.” Now Max’s voice was slightly elevated.
“I didn’t mention it to you,” Cole said. “But then our conversations pretty much consist of this. You calling me on the carpet like I’m still twelve. I’m not. I’m thirty-three fucking years old, Max. And last I heard, Duke and Iris Abbott are my parents. Not you.” He jabbed a finger in his direction.
Max ground his back teeth, his muscles tensing. He and Cole were what his late grandmother referred to as Irish twins, born just under twelve months apart.
Yet, Cole and Zora had always been closer.
“Maybe try not acting like a horny teenager all the time,” Max said. “Show a little self-control, as adults do. Like by not taking every single woman you meet to bed. Especially when she’s the granddaughter of Grandpa Joe’s closest living friend.”
Projecting much?
Yep, he was a total hypocrite for that one.
If he got taken out by a lightning strike right this moment, he couldn’t even complain. He legit had it coming.
“I am not sleeping with Quinn.” Cole stabbed his finger angrily at the air in front of Max’s face. “Because, as I already told you, she shot me down. I respected her decision then, as I do now. I haven’t made a move on her since then.”
“Really? Because you two seem overly familiar. You keep putting your hands on her. Hugging her. Whispering in her ear. Draping your arm over her shoulder.”
“Is that what you’ve been doing all night? Spying on me and Quinn? Dude, you seriously need to get a life...or get laid. Maybe both.” Cole smirked in a way that made Max want to grab him by the collar.
“I have a life. And right now, this joint brandy project with Bazemore Farms is at the center of it. So I need you to back off of Quinn before you blow up the entire deal and cause irreparable damage to Gramps’s relationship with Dixon Bazemore,” Max said.
“I realize you always think the worst of me,” Cole said. A hint of anger and maybe hurt glinted in his brother’s dark eyes. “But Quinn told you herself we’re just friends. Are you calling her a liar, too?”
“It’s not that I think the worst of you, Cole. It’s that I expect better. Being an Abbott means something, you know.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Cole laughed bitterly. “None of you ever let me forget it. But you don’t get to define what being an Abbott means for me,” he said without a hint of apology. “Now, you want to tell me what this is really about? Because this is extra, even for you.”
Cole’s voice faded at the end of the sentence and then his eyes widened with realization. He rubbed his chin. “Oh.”
“Oh...what?” Max asked casually, despite the subtle quickening of his pulse.
“I’ve seen this movie before. You’re into Quinn. That’s why you want me to back off.” Cole paced the floor. He stopped, then turned to him abruptly. “No, it’s more than that. That summer you worked at Bazemore Farms... The two of you were together, weren’t you? That’s why Quinn shut everything down between us the moment she realized I was your brother.”
Max closed his eyes. His cheeks and forehead burned with heat.
Seriously, you had one job, asshole.
He’d promised to keep his relationship with Quinn under wraps. That he’d never kiss and tell. Even if she hadn’t kept her side of the bargain, it’d been important to him that he kept his promise to her. But watching Cole with Quinn all night... His jealousy had circumvented his better judgment.
What conclusion did he expect Cole to come to after his full-court press about his brother’s relationship with Quinn?
Cole was a lot of things. Stupid wasn’t one of them.
“You’ve been spending too much time with Zora,” Max said. “I’m just trying to protect our family’s interest here. Something you seem to care very little about.”
Flames seemed to shoot from Cole’s dark eyes as he stepped forward, his hands clenched at his side.
“This isn’t about me or this brandy deal. It’s about you wanting Quinn. I’m guessing you screwed up with her back then.”
Max wouldn’t look at Cole, unwilling to confirm or deny his brother’s accusation.
“First, Parker thinks I’m making a move on Kayleigh. Now you think I’m screwing Quinn. News flash—I’m not that guy. You’d think my own damn brothers would realize that.”
Max raised his head and met Cole’s intense stare. There was genuine pain in his brother’s voice and expression.
Guilt churned in Max’s gut. “You’re right. Quinn and I were involved back when I worked on the farm. No one else knows.”
Max’s head spun with all of the complicated emotions he’d felt for Quinn that summer. Emotions he’d buried and thought were long dead until Quinn Bazemore sashayed into that conference room earlier that week and turned his world upside down. It had unearthed a complicated mixture of feelings: affection, admiration, desire, love, guilt and pain.
“But this isn’t about how you felt about her back then, is it? You’re still i
nto her.” There was pity in Cole’s voice rather than the resentment that had been there moments earlier. When Max didn’t respond, Cole added, “Let me help you out—that wasn’t a question.”
“I’m not discussing this with you,” Max said.
“And I’m tired of you guys projecting your bullshit on me.” Cole shoved a finger in his direction again. “If you want another shot with Quinn, man up and tell her. If you’re not willing to do that, then leave her the fuck alone. Because you never deserved her anyway.”
Max had no argument. Quinn did deserve better.
“Quinn is special, Max. I don’t have many friends like her. So make up with her. Don’t make up with her. Whatever. But I won’t give up my friendship with Quinn just because you’re pissed that you screwed things up with her a lifetime ago. So get your head outta your ass and either shoot your shot or get over it. Period.”
Cole left the office, slamming the door behind him.
Max closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. God, he hated it when Cole was right.
He sucked in a deep breath, his mind buzzing with all of the things he’d wanted to say to Quinn and all the reasons he shouldn’t say them. Starting with the fact that she clearly didn’t want to hear them.
Quinn wouldn’t even let him apologize. So how could he possibly tell her the truth? That he’d never stopped caring for her. That he’d do anything to hit Rewind and do things differently.
She wasn’t ready to hear his truth, and he had no right to impose it on her to assuage his own guilt. He’d screwed up, so he had to take the L.
The words of his high school football coach echoed in his head.
Don’t force it, son. Read the field and take whatever the defense gives you.
That was exactly what he needed to do.
Stop behaving like a possessive asshole and accept the small olive branch Quinn has extended.
He needed to find Quinn now.
Nine
Quinn handed her ticket to the valet, and the man left to retrieve her car. Suddenly a familiar voice called her name.
She turned to find Max jogging toward her with an intense look on his face.
Her heart raced. “Is my grandfather okay?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you. Mr. B is fine. I just...” He cleared his throat, then shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “You’re not familiar with the area, and since half the town is here tonight, downtown will be pretty deserted.”
“I don’t expect I’ll have any problem finding the place,” Quinn said.
“Still, I would feel better if someone...” He cleared his throat again. “I would feel better if I saw you home and made sure everything was okay.” He straightened out his cuff links.
“Are you concerned about my safety, Max? Or are you worried that I’ll meet up with Cole afterward?” Quinn folded her arms, irritated that Max obviously didn’t believe there was nothing going on between her and his brother.
“I’m concerned about you, of course.” He lightly gripped her elbow and guided her to a spot a few feet away from the valet stand where the two remaining valets had turned their attention toward them. “About earlier, what I said about you and Cole. I’m sorry. I was way out of line. Forgive me?”
She studied the handsome features that had always intrigued her and the dark, piercing eyes that stared back at her. Eyes she’d gotten lost in many a night during that long, hot summer.
Quinn released a quiet sigh and nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay, you forgive me for being an ass earlier? Or okay, I can see you to Kayleigh’s place tonight?”
“Both.” One side of her mouth curved in an involuntary smile. “But I’m leaving now. Don’t you need to be here until the end of the party?”
“I’ll come back after I see you home.” He dug his valet ticket out of his inside jacket pocket and handed it to the valet. “Pull out to the edge of the property and wait. Then you can follow me into town.”
“Okay,” Quinn agreed.
When the valet returned with her car, she reached into her purse to tip the kid, but Max waved her off and tipped him generously. She thanked him, then drove to the edge of the property and waited.
A small part of her was eager to be alone with Max in that apartment. The same part of her that had relished being in his arms again on that dance floor.
Max was her distant past. That crazy, hot summer they shared was a fantasy they’d both awakened from once they’d returned to the reality of their daily lives.
He’d obviously put it out of his mind. Why couldn’t she do the same?
Maybe because what they’d shared had evidently meant more to her than it had to him. Max was her first love, and she’d fallen hard for him.
She’d been so sure they’d shared a deep, unbreakable bond. But Max had forgotten her the moment he’d put her grandfather’s farm in the rearview mirror.
She should take notes and do the same.
They could work together. Be friendly. Even share an occasional dance. But she wasn’t a starry-eyed eighteen-year-old anymore. She understood how the world worked. That people didn’t always mean what they said...what they promised. Not even the people who’d promised to love you.
Quinn’s attention was drawn to the headlights that flashed in her side view mirror. Max pulled beside her in his SUV and indicated she should follow him. She did, though she’d already plugged the address into her phone’s GPS app.
They went back past the distillery, then followed the undulating road to a one-lane bridge that led them into downtown Magnolia Lake. Max pulled his black SUV into a parking lot next to an older block of buildings. She parked beside him as he rummaged for something in the back of his truck.
Their cars were the only two in the lot. Suddenly Quinn was grateful Max had insisted on seeing her here. The area did feel deserted. And aside from the dim lighting in the front window of Kayleigh’s store, the building looked abandoned.
Quinn grabbed her gym bag from the trunk and slammed it shut, then gathered the bottom of her dress in her other hand, not wanting a repeat of her earlier clumsiness.
Max had what looked like a T-shirt draped over his shoulder. He reached for her bag.
“I’ve got it,” she insisted.
“Your hands are already full.” He indicated where she held up the hem of her dress. “And I don’t mind. Really.”
Quinn handed the bag off to him as they moved toward the side entrance of the building. From her bag she retrieved the napkin with the codes and punched in the six digits for the main door.
Max opened the heavy door and they stepped inside. The sound of her heels clicking against the wooden floor echoed in the narrow stairwell. When they reached the apartment door, Quinn entered the next six-digit code. The decor in the cozy little one-bedroom apartment was absolutely adorable. Nothing extravagant, but the kind of place she could easily imagine spending the next few weeks.
They walked through the space, and Max dropped Quinn’s gym bag at the foot of the bed.
“That reminds me,” he said. “If you need anything, Zora said give her a call. I assume you have her cell number.”
“I do.”
Quinn tossed her clutch on the bed and released the bobby pins in her hair that had been killing her all night. She shook her hair loose and raked her fingers through it, sighing with relief. When she looked up, Max was staring at her.
“Is there anything else?” Quinn asked.
“No.” Max shook his head and took a step backward. “Actually...yes.” He snatched the garment he was carrying off his shoulder. “I had a clean T-shirt in my gym bag. I thought you might need something to sleep in.”
He held out a white T-shirt with the words King’s Finest Distillery, Magnolia Lake, Tennessee printed on it in black lettering.
“Thank you.” She accepted i
t, noticing how the soft, cotton had already taken on a subtle hint of Max’s cologne.
They stood in silence, the air around them heavy with all of the words that neither of them would allow themselves to say.
For the briefest moment, she wished Max would lean down and kiss her. Satisfy her growing curiosity.
Had his kiss really been as amazing as she remembered? Or had she just been a misguided young woman with so little experience that any kiss would’ve seemed memorable?
Max’s phone rang. Heaving a quiet sigh, he pulled the phone from his inside pocket and checked the caller ID before sliding it back into place. His expression was unreadable.
Was it a woman calling him this late in the evening?
After all, if it had been a member of his family, wouldn’t he have answered the phone, as he had many times before in her presence?
So what if some woman was calling him at Netflix-and-chill hour? What business was it of hers?
“I have to go,” Max said. “Lock up after me.”
Quinn followed Max back through the apartment wondering about the identity of his mystery caller.
Was it someone she’d met at the party tonight? Someone who worked at the distillery? Or maybe someone who lived nearby? Maybe that was the real reason he left the party early.
“Good night, Quinn.” His intense gaze shot straight through her, sending tingles down her spine and heating her skin. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“At noon, right?” she asked, then added, “Wait, I don’t know where we’re meeting for brunch.”
“At my parents’ place. It’s at the end of the same road where the barn is. I’ll text the address to you.” He pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen.
“You have my cell phone number?” She was surprised. They hadn’t exchanged numbers.
“I maintain a list of contacts for my entire team,” he said casually, without looking up. “While we’re collaborating on this project, that includes you and Mr. B.” He slid the phone back into his pocket. “The contact list was part of the packet you received during our first meeting.”