by Reese Ryan
Deep wrinkles formed above Max’s furrowed brows. He folded his arms and sighed. “If that’s what you want, Quinn.”
“It is.” She tipped her chin, hoping she conveyed more conviction than she possessed at the moment. That her tone didn’t betray her disappointment at how easily he’d acquiesced. As if she and the kiss really were no big deal for him. Already nearly forgotten.
“All right, Quinn. This is strictly a business relationship. Nothing more. And maybe, if I work really hard at it, I can pretend that summer never happened, too.” His tone was biting.
Max had obviously been more perturbed by her refusal to discuss their past than she realized; nonetheless, it had been a good decision. Just look what had happened the moment she allowed herself the luxury of fondly revisiting their past.
Keeping their relationship strictly professional was in the best interest of her career and her heart—regardless of what her body wanted.
Because, even now, she wanted Max to kiss her again. She wanted to invite Max back to her place and get reacquainted with every inch of his body. To spend the rest of the night making love to him. She longed for the taste of his mouth, and her body ached for the pleasure of his touch.
She sucked in a deep breath, forced an uneasy smile and turned to leave.
“Wait.” He held up the CD with Mixtape for Peaches scribbled on it in black permanent marker. “You forgot this.”
A tiny piece of her heart crumbled, seeing those words and remembering the friendship and intimacy they’d once shared. A part of her wanted all those things with Max again, even knowing that revisiting the past would only lead to more disappointment.
“I appreciate the thought, Max. I really do. But maybe it’s better if we leave the past in the past and focus on the future of this project. We both have a lot riding on it.” She placed a gentle hand on his forearm and forced another smile, despite the electricity that filtered through her fingertips where her skin touched his. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Quinn.” His voice sounded achingly sad.
She slipped out of his office, closing the door behind her.
It was better this way. Eventually, Max would realize it, too.
Quinn made her way to her car and took the narrow road toward town. She was angry with herself, and her eyes burned with tears. If anyone was aware of the consequences of mixing business and pleasure, it was her.
At the PR firm she’d worked for in Atlanta, she’d fallen for her boss’s son. He’d pursued her for more than a year, and she’d finally given in. After a year of dating, he’d asked her to marry him.
She’d accepted Melvin Donaldson’s proposal and blown a mint on that Marchesa gown for their engagement party. But the week before the party, she’d walked into his office and discovered him seated at his desk, his pants unzipped and his secretary on her knees in front of him.
Quinn had dumped the lying, cheating bastard and tried to focus on doing the job she loved. Rather than being ashamed of his own behavior, he’d insisted she was making a big deal over nothing. That his encounter with his secretary hadn’t meant that he didn’t love her. He’d just been stressed and blowing off steam. And he’d been furious that she’d “humiliated” him by calling off their engagement after the party invites had already gone out.
Once it had become clear she wouldn’t go back to Melvin, her corporate nightmare began. After being named Employee of the Year two of the previous three years, suddenly Melvin and his father, Oscar Donaldson—the head of the firm—found fault with everything she did. One by one, she’d been taken off the larger, more prestigious accounts. Worse, the Donaldsons had maligned her character to clients who’d complained about her being removed from their accounts. Finally, they’d manufactured cause to fire her. Her only recourse had been to quietly resign.
Embarrassed by the whole ordeal, Quinn hadn’t told her grandfather the real reason she’d left the firm. Nor had she admitted the full extent of what had happened to Cole. Only her college roommate, Naomi, knew the truth. She’d called her friend in tears the day she’d been forced to resign.
Naomi had wanted her to hire a lawyer, and her friend was prepared to trash the firm online. She’d even suggested that Quinn talk to a reporter. Quinn decided she had suffered enough humiliation.
Even now, she hated herself for having been too much of a coward to stand up for herself. But she had no desire to become a poster girl for workplace romances gone wrong. And if she was being honest, she blamed herself for going against every instinct that had warned her not to get involved with Melvin.
She could still remember her father’s words when she’d told her parents she was dating the boss’s son.
Never crap where you eat, sweetheart. It won’t end well.
Boy, had her father been right.
Quinn pulled into the parking lot of Kayleigh’s building. She walked down the street to Margot’s Pizzeria and ordered the personal-sized Hawaiian pizza Kayleigh and Parker had recommended so highly. Then she returned to the apartment with a piping-hot pizza in hand.
She’d agreed to let go of her anger over her and Max’s past and just move on. And that still stood. But she wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Especially not with a man who’d already let her down in the past.
Max had quickly agreed to her terms. So why had his easy and immediate acquiescence filled her with a deep sadness she couldn’t quite explain?
It didn’t matter. She just needed to get over herself and let go of the past. Her career and her grandfather’s farm depended on it.
* * *
Max spent another hour working in his office with Vivaldi’s Four Seasons playing softly in the background after Quinn left. He’d needed to switch from the mixtape of old-school R & B that he’d been playing incessantly for the past week. Nearly every one of those songs reminded him of cherished moments with Quinn that summer.
Maybe it’s better if we leave the past in the past.
Quinn’s words replayed in his head, like an old vinyl record with a deep scratch.
He’d quickly agreed to her request because Quinn was right. Neither of them could afford the distraction of trying to safely navigate the land mines of their past.
So why did a little voice in his head and the knot in his gut call BS on his agreement to let go of the past and move on?
What right did he have to be crushed by Quinn’s refusal to explore what their kiss had meant? After all, he’d been the one who’d initially rebuffed her.
Quinn’s rejection was a karmic dish of justice served cold.
Yet, he couldn’t help the deep ache in his chest. How could Quinn walk away from a second chance for them so easily when he couldn’t stop thinking of and wanting her?
He’d been young and stupid. Mostly, he’d been overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings for Quinn. In her he saw his future set in stone: marriage, a home, kids.
All of the things neither of them had been ready for.
He wasn’t the man Quinn deserved then. Maybe he still wasn’t, but he wanted to be everything she deserved and more.
All of the things that had frightened him back then—thoughts of marriage and family—still seemed overwhelming. Yet, he found himself wondering if he and Quinn would have had all of those things together if he hadn’t broken up with her.
Max dragged a hand down his face and sighed. He’d made his choice back then; now he had to live with it. Despite his growing feelings for Quinn, he’d respect her wishes and keep their relationship strictly professional.
He now regretted his decision to have Quinn accompany him to the trade show in San Francisco.
This trip would put his resolve to the ultimate test.
Fourteen
Quinn sat across from Zora in a booth at the Magnolia Lake Café. She politely waited for the other shoe to drop.
/> She’d made it all the way to Friday without anyone mentioning the kiss that Zora had walked in on. But when Zora insisted on treating Quinn to lunch today, she knew it was only a matter of time before Max’s sister brought it up.
Instead, Zora had shown her photos her best friend, Dallas, had sent from his trip to Sweden. And she’d revealed some of their plans for the family-style restaurant they would be opening across the street.
When Quinn had finally started to relax, Zora pushed aside her empty plate and folded her hands on the table. “So about you and Max...”
Quinn nearly choked on a forkful of chicken potpie. She gulped down some water.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Zora looked genuinely concerned. “I just wanted to say that I appreciate how awkward it must be for you and Max to work together. I don’t know what happened between you two in the past, but you obviously have feelings for each other.”
Quinn poked at the flaky crust and tender chunks of chicken with her fork. She shrugged. “It was a really long time ago, Zora.”
“Didn’t seem so long ago.” Zora could barely contain her grin.
Touché.
“It’s a mistake neither of us intends to repeat.”
“Or maybe you two have been given a second chance at this.”
“I didn’t come here to reignite an old flame. I’m working with Max, despite our past. This is a golden opportunity to expand the reach of both of our families’ companies.”
“No one thinks you came here for Max,” Zora assured her. “But if my interruption the other day derailed whatever might be going on with you two, I apologize. I like you, Quinn. And I can see why Max does, too.”
“That’s kind of you, Zora, and I appreciate it. But I’m sorry to disappoint you. There isn’t anything happening between me and Max. That kiss was a one-off. We just got caught up in the moment.”
“I respect that.” Zora nodded. “But I also realize that a big family like ours can be a lot to deal with. Admittedly, a few of us are a little extra.” She raised her hand slowly, and they both laughed, easing the tension. “So if your feelings for Max ever do change, know that I’m rooting for you two.” Zora smiled. “Now, unless you decide otherwise, we’ll never speak of this again.” Zora locked her lips with an imaginary key, then tossed it over her shoulder.
Quinn grinned. Zora was extra, but she couldn’t help liking Max’s nosy little sister. She was well-meaning and obviously loved her brothers.
“Zora, Quinn.” Benji approached the table holding his daughter, Bailey.
Quinn had gotten to know Benji and his fiancée, Sloane, a little at the anniversary party and brunch. They were a sweet couple with adorable one-year-old twins.
“Hi, Zora.” Sloane, carrying their son Beau on her hip, leaned down and hugged the other woman. “Hi, Quinn.” She surveyed their empty plates. “I wish we’d arrived earlier. We could’ve eaten together. That is, if you two don’t mind eating with two ravenous toddlers who get more food on their bellies than in them.” Sloane tickled her son’s stomach and the boy doubled over with laughter.
“That would’ve been fun.” Quinn jiggled Bailey’s little foot, clad in a sparkly pink ballerina flat that complemented her pink tutu dress. The toddler giggled, burying her face in her father’s shoulder.
“We were about to leave, but we can watch the twins while you get your order. And you can have our table.” Zora glanced around the packed eatery.
“Thanks.” Sloane handed Beau to Zora. The little boy was mesmerized by her dangling earrings.
Benji handed Bailey off to Quinn, and he and Sloane promised to return as quickly as possible.
“The twins are adorable.” Quinn tickled Bailey, and the little girl laughed.
Spending time with the twins and Savannah and Blake’s son, Davis, made her wish she had nieces and nephews of her own to spoil.
“And they’re the sweetest children,” Zora said wistfully as she tapped a finger on Beau’s nose. “They make me want children of my own.”
“The kids all adore you, and you’re so patient with them,” Quinn said. “You’d be an incredible mom.”
“Now, I just need to find the right guy...or not,” Zora said with a mischievous grin. “As my gram always used to say, there’s more than one way to get a pickle in the jar.”
Quinn burst out laughing as she bounced Bailey on her knee. “Wait, are you considering going to a sperm bank?” Quinn covered Bailey’s ears and mouthed the last two words.
“Why not?” Zora shrugged. “I want kids now. What if the right guy doesn’t come along for another ten years? Or what if I’m not able to have kids anymore when and if he does?”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?” Quinn moved the salt and pepper shakers beyond Bailey’s reach.
“I’ve been thinking about it for at least six months.” Zora kissed the top of Beau’s head. “I honestly don’t know why I just told you that. Please don’t say anything. My family will freak out. I’m prepared to handle the flak, if I decide to go that route. But there’s no point in riling them up when I’m still undecided.”
“It’s not my place to say anything.” Quinn smiled reassuringly. “So this stays between us.”
“Thank you.” Zora seemed relieved. She jingled her car keys, then gave them to Beau so he’d let go of her earring.
Quinn admired Zora’s clarity about what she wanted. Max’s sister was outspoken and unapologetically direct, but Quinn liked her. And she’d grown increasingly fond of Max and his family.
She smoothed back the little girl’s curls, bound by a frilly headband dotted with fabric flowers.
What would her little girl look like? Quinn couldn’t help smiling but shook off the thought.
Zora’s baby fever was contagious.
“You two are officially relieved of babysitting duty.” Benji rolled up highchairs for the twins and helped load the kids in them. “And Quinn, Sloane dropped your invitation to our wedding in the mail yesterday.”
“That’s generous of you, but I don’t want to throw off your seating arrangement.” Quinn hated that they’d felt obligated to invite her.
“We want you there,” Sloane insisted with a warm smile.
Quinn graciously accepted, then she and Zora said their goodbyes.
On the ride back to the office, they discussed Quinn and Max’s upcoming trip to San Francisco. But like a silent movie playing in the background, her kiss with Max played on a loop in Quinn’s head.
Maybe she couldn’t get her brain to cooperate, but she had full control of her other body parts. This time there would be no reminiscing and she’d keep her hands and lips to herself.
Fifteen
Max sat up and leaned against the headboard, reaching for his cell phone on the nightstand in his darkened San Francisco hotel room. He checked the time and groaned.
Not quite six and he’d gotten very little sleep, despite turning in early.
He and Quinn had arrived the previous afternoon. They’d checked in at the trade show, set up the King’s Finest booth, attended a mixer for sponsors, then enjoyed a lovely meal together at the premium steakhouse in the hotel.
Despite their rough start and the unexpected kiss, they’d managed to get back on track. Their collaboration had gone smoothly for the past week. They were finally working in sync toward a common goal, which also served their individual agendas.
With their unique creative styles and different approaches to problem solving, they complemented each other well. Max was proud of the campaign they were building.
By all accounts, he should’ve slept like a baby.
Instead, he’d been restless, tossing and turning the entire night. Not because he was nervous about the trade show. He simply couldn’t stop thinking of Quinn. Wanting her.
She’d looked beautifu
l in a simple tan suit yesterday. The slim pants were tapered at the ankle, highlighting her strappy, nude-colored, high-heel sandals. The crisp white shirt she wore beneath it provided the perfect contrast to her gleaming brown skin.
He couldn’t help wondering if Quinn’s hair, worn in glossy beach waves combed to one side, was as smooth and silky as it appeared. And he couldn’t stop remembering how luscious her full lips had felt when he’d kissed them or how firm her plump bottom had been when it filled his palms.
The thing that had kept him awake the most was the question that constantly churned in his brain.
What would’ve happened if Zora hadn’t interrupted them?
The only topic that had gotten more rotation in his Quinn-preoccupied brain over the past weeks was how different their lives might be now if they’d stayed together back then.
He and Quinn had agreed to stick to business, and they’d both kept their word. They’d fallen into a relaxed rhythm and gotten comfortable enough with each other to talk about their families and fill each other in on their pasts. They discussed pop culture and current events. They’d even become comfortable enough with each other to joke around a bit.
The easy, familiar relationship they were building wasn’t unlike the relationships he’d established with his assistant Molly and other members of his team. Yet, it clearly wasn’t the same. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.
Max groaned and placed his feet on the floor.
No use staring at the ceiling for another hour.
He might as well do something constructive with his time.
Their first meeting today was with a buyer for a nationwide restaurant management company—JRS. They were meeting with the rep before the trade show opened. Getting up this early gave Max a couple of hours to swim—a great way to calm his nerves and get his head on straight.
When he got to the pool downstairs, he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it onto a lounge chair with his towels and his phone before stepping beneath the poolside shower. But before he could get into the pool, his phone alerted him to a text message.