by Lizzie Shane
She was happy for them.
So damn happy for them she could barely breathe for all the damn happiness.
She crossed the lawn, her heels squishing into the grass until she reached the more stable footing of the dock. Nick and Tori had reunited on that dock, under the gazebo on the end. Parv had heard the story a dozen times in the last few months. About the misunderstanding that kept them apart for ten years. About the chance encounter at a wedding that had brought them together again—and the way all those years had fallen away.
She’d been so happy for Tori. She still was. She just hadn’t realized then how much things were going to change.
She gripped the railing, looking out over the gorgeous yachts lined up in neat little rows. It was a romantic spot. The perfect spot to reunite with an old flame.
Footsteps on the wooden planks directly behind her made Parv’s spine stiffen. Until Max leaned over the rail at her side, his forearms propped on the wood. She forced herself to relax.
“You okay?” he asked, turning his head from the view. “I saw you sneak out.”
“I’m great. I just needed some air.”
“Parv.”
Just that. Just her name in that soft, slightly scolding way.
When had he gotten to know her so well? When had he become the one person she could say absolutely anything to?
When had Max Dewitt become her best friend?
“It was different when my sisters got married,” she whispered. “I didn’t want it for myself then. I was eight and a half at Angie’s wedding. I remember how itchy the crinoline on the flower girl dress was and how we had to stand out in the sun for hours smiling for the photographer. I’m sure I was obnoxious. My mother kept telling me that it was Angie’s day and I needed to be good. So I stood where they put me and did what I was told—right up until she threw the bouquet.” Parv cringed at the memory of that bunch of flowers flying at her chest like it was laser guided. “It was a low toss and they’d shoved me in the front, so of course I caught it. Devi was jealous. She’d wanted it for herself, and I didn’t understand why, so she snapped at me that now I had to get married next, but I was eight and boys were gross, so I burst into tears. And to this day that’s all my family will talk about when they talk about Angie’s wedding. How I wouldn’t stop crying.”
“You were eight.”
“I know. All my sisters were married by the time I was fifteen—and I tolerated every wedding, but I never wanted it for myself. I was proud of myself for waiting. But now it’s different. I look at Tori and Sidney and they have it all. Successful careers, men who adore them and want to marry them. Now I want it—and it feels like I’ve already fallen so far behind it’s never going to happen for me. Like all the dreams I denied I wanted for so long are slipping away. I’ve never even come close. And I feel horrible and selfish for standing out here feeling sorry for myself on Tori’s day.”
“Tori’s day is going great. It’s your day I’m worried about.”
“It isn’t my day. I just didn’t realize I was going to become a puddle of sadness as soon as she walked down the aisle. I really am happy for her.”
“I know you are.”
“And the last thing I want to do is screw up someone else’s big moment.”
“I know that.”
“And now I have to come up with a date for my niece’s engagement party.”
Max cocked his head at her. “You can’t go alone?”
“I could have. But Angie was being so annoying, just assuming that I wouldn’t have someone to bring so I told her I was bringing a plus one. And now when I show up alone she’s going to be unbearable.”
“Can’t you take one of your online guys?”
“Are you kidding? A wedding function at which he meets my entire family? On a first date?”
“So no one’s made it to date two, huh?”
“Not yet.” But she kept trying. Because she was a glutton for punishment. Or a hopeless romantic. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference.
“I could take you.”
The words were so unexpected it took a moment for them to register. When they did, she turned to face him, skeptical. “You want to come to my niece’s engagement party?”
“I want you to know that you aren’t alone. That’s what friends are for, right?”
Jesus. She almost burst into tears again right there.
How was she supposed to withstand Max Dewitt and his savior complex? Always swooping to the rescue. If he weren’t also an unapologetic man-whore with the attention span of a fruit fly, she could really fall in love with him.
Though she hadn’t heard about him with many women lately—not even his usual rotating cast of leggy brunettes.
“What have you been up to?” She leaned a hip against the rail. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Work has been busy. I’ve actually been thinking about hiring a new guy to cover the extra work we’ve been getting.”
“Oh yeah? Do you have a superstud in mind?”
He frowned. “Superstud?”
“You pick your bodyguards because they’re hot. Did you think I hadn’t noticed?” When he continued to frown down at her, she grinned. “So. The new guy is hot. Or you wouldn’t even be considering him. So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know whether it’s a problem yet or not. He doesn’t have any experience—but neither did Cross when I brought him on. He used to be a professional fighter, so I know he can handle himself, but he was recently in a motorcycle accident that took off his left leg below the knee.”
“Whoa.”
“You’d never know it to look at him. And he looks like Aquaman’s hotter little brother.”
“He gets my vote. I love Jason Mamoa.” Parv sighed. “Which way are you leaning?”
“I don’t know. I’ve always had a gut feeling when it came to hiring new people, but I really like him and I’m wondering if that’s clouding my judgment. What if he isn’t a good investment?”
“Then you fire him. At least you gave him a shot.”
But Max wouldn’t fire him. She knew him better than that.
He talked about Elite Protection like he was a ruthless businessman, making decisions with his head and damning his heart—but Parv had always seen his company as the island of misfit toys. His people were all distractingly good-looking, yes, but they were also dinged up by life and adrift until Max brought them together and gave them a home.
Max may not see it, but Elite Protection was a family and he was their heart. And she had a feeling they’d just found their newest member.
Chapter Seventeen
Parvati was in her depressing shoebox of an office, writing out the sign announcing the final days of Common Grounds, when she realized she’d fallen stupidly in love with Max.
She’d already been thinking about him—remembering how nice it was to have him to bounce ideas off of when she was trying to decide how to announce the closure—when her phone rang and his name appeared on the screen.
She picked up the phone, grinning before she even heard his voice. “Hey.”
“Hey back,” he said. “What am I supposed to wear to this engagement party tomorrow?”
“A suit?” She barely stopped herself before suggesting the grey one that matched his eyes.
“So I don’t need to go out and buy Indian clothes? Candy was just asking me if you were wearing a sari and I realized I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in one.”
“And you won’t tomorrow. There will be a few people more traditionally dressed, but almost everyone will be in suits and dresses. You’ll fit right in.”
“Are you sure? Candy looks like she would love to play dress-up on me.”
“Positive. Though if you decide to let Candy dress you some other time, promise me you’ll take pictures.”
“I never keep photographic evidence.” She heard a sound like his desk chair squeaking. “What are you up to? Did I catch you at a busy time?�
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“No, I’m just making a sign announcing the closure of Common Grounds.” She doodled idly on a piece of scratch paper, enjoying the sound of his voice. “I talked to the property management company like you suggested and apparently there’s another vendor who wants this space for the holidays, so if I can vacate by November 15th, I can get a break on my rent.”
“That’s fast.”
“It is. But now that I’ve decided to close, I’m ready for it to be over. And I’d be closed for Thanksgiving anyway. And my employees will have finals then, so it makes sense to just bite the bullet.”
“And the countdown begins.”
“Two weeks until we close and one more to sell off the equipment,” she agreed, the words surreal. What was she going to do with all her free time? “How’s your work going? Did you decide to hire that guy?”
“I did,” Max admitted, though he didn’t sound certain. “Provisionally. I’m sending him to the next training session. We’ll see how that goes.”
“Maybe he’ll be great.”
She could almost hear him shrug. “We’ll see.”
They hung up a moment later and she went back to her sign—
And realized she was humming.
Writing up a sign announcing the demise of her business. Sitting in the little box of an office with the walls so steeped in stress over the last few years that she could barely walk through the door without slumping. And humming.
Happy because of Max.
She should have seen it coming. She should have known what was happening, but it wasn’t until she caught herself humming that she knew.
She was in love with Max Dewitt.
Crap. Crap crap crap.
She wasn’t supposed to be in love with him. They were friends. She needed him too much to ruin it by falling for him. Just because he was sexy and kind and amazing—damn it. She needed to get a hold of her heart. Rein it in.
Max was a bad bet. She knew that. She knew she wasn’t his type—the leggy, exotic women with exciting, important lives who didn’t mind relationships that only lasted a week or two. She may not have a mortgage and a picket fence and a dog, but she wanted those things. And Max seemed determined to avoid them at all cost.
Okay. So she was in love with him. She could handle that. She’d had a crush on him all through high school. She had experience suppressing her feelings for Max. She just needed to remember that nothing could ever happen between them.
* * * * *
In retrospect, taking a man she was head-over-heels in love with to her niece’s engagement party when she’d shown up solo to every other family function over the last five years was probably not Parvati’s best idea.
He picked her up at her place—like a real date, her stupid hormones whispered—and arched his brows appreciatively when he saw the maroon tea-length wrap dress she’d chosen for the night. Her hair was down—as it always was when she wasn’t in the kitchen—but she’d fluffed it up and slapped on some makeup.
“Why, Miss Jai. You clean up nice.”
“So do you.” He’d worn the grey suit. The one that matched his eyes and made her girl parts swoon.
“Shall we?” He crooked his elbow for her and she tucked her hand on his arm, suddenly feeling much less steady on her heels.
He held her door for her, but his eyes danced and she knew he was only playing at being her date, not actually trying to impress her with his chivalry. She sank into the Tesla, nervously smoothing her skirt as he rounded the hood and started the engine. Her stomach was in knots and she just knew the drive to Santa Barbara was going to be excruciatingly awkward—but Max asked her about her customers’ reactions to the sign and then about the family members he would be meeting that night and the drive passed without a single awkward silence.
Which was good, because when they arrived at the country club her sister had booked for the evening, there were plenty of awkward silences waiting for them.
Parvati had failed to adequately consider how her family would react to Max. Some were openly shocked. Others visibly confused until Parv explained that they were just friends. A couple even asking him who he was there with—while he was standing right next to Parvati. They just didn’t know what to make of the Perfect Ten Max Dewitt with Spinster Parvati.
By the time Parv had run the gauntlet and was able to drag Max over to the buffet for the semi-privacy of grabbing something to eat, she was bristling with irritation. “I think half my family thought I was gay.”
Max chuckled, but didn’t refute the claim. “I take it you don’t bring a lot of men to family functions.”
“Try none. I wouldn’t have worried about having a date for this party, but my sister said something about how I could always be relied on not to bring a plus one and my better judgment exploded.”
“I think I like it when your better judgment explodes.” He grinned when she glared at him. “I’m serious. I love this. It’s a glimpse behind the curtain to the real Parvati Jai. You’re different with your family.”
“Insecure and neurotic, you mean?” She balanced one last appetizer on her plate and turned to search for an open table—little cocktail tables and high tops had been set up near the buffet, leaving most of the room open for the dance floor. A big band orchestra played jazz standards while Jonah and Katie—who had taken swing dance classes in high school—showed off their skills.
“Maybe,” Max acknowledged. “You’re definitely quieter. I’m so used to seeing you with Sidney when you’re always bubbly and giggling. I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be so much more subdued with your family. It’s a new side to you.”
“Welcome to the Dark Side.”
“I don’t think they’re all judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He followed her to a nearby high top that had just opened up. “Drink?”
“Please.”
He veered toward the bar with her order—being stopped twice by her curious family members before he made it across the room.
“Okay. Who is that?” Katie appeared at her side before Max made it to the bar, leaving Jonah waltzing his mother across the dance floor.
“Max. Just a friend. Are you enjoying your party?”
“It’s the best night,” Katie gushed, easily diverted. “Everyone I love is here—if we had someone to officiate we could get married right now and I’d be happy. Your friend isn’t a minister, is he?”
“Sorry. To the best of my knowledge he has no power to perform weddings.”
“That’s okay. He’s hot, so I won’t hold his lack of ordination against him.”
“How’s USC?”
“Amazing. Jonah and I love our Intro to Psych professor so much we’re both considering changing majors. Can you just see us as psychologists?”
Parv wondered if there was a psychological term for when the word I was completely swallowed up by we. “You’d be great. If that’s what excites you.”
“I don’t know how anyone can decide what they want to do with the rest of their life when they’re only eighteen.”
And yet you’re getting married. Parv bit her tongue. “You have time.”
Katie rolled my eyes. “Tell that to my mother. Every other week she reminds me that she and my father are only paying for four years and I’d better have a degree at the end of them or I have to repay her every penny of my tuition.”
An arm curved around Parv’s side, setting a drink at her elbow. “Could be worse,” Max said. “You could have to pay your own way through college.”
“Oh, I’m not complaining!” Katie said quickly, her eyes wide as she stared up at Max, as dazzled as if she was trying to gaze straight into the sun. “I just mean that I don’t have a lot of time to make up my mind on what I want my major to be.”
Parv introduced Max and the bride-to-be, who continued to gaze up at him adoringly—it really wasn’t fair that he had that effect on women.
“What did you study?” Max asked Parv, still standing too close to her. H
er entire family was going to get ideas at this rate.
She edged away from him an inch. “Business. You?”
“Same. With a psych minor. So I could learn how to mess with the minds of my competitors.”
“Isn’t psychology fascinating? Jonah and I—my mother is waving at me. I think she wants Grandpa to do some kind of speech. I’d better go find my fiancé.”
Katie bounded off and Parv took a long swallow of her drink, lifting the glass to Max in a toast. “Thank you.”
Max’s gaze followed Katie across the room. “Has no one realized the bride is a baby and needs to be locked in her room until she’s old enough to get married?”
“She’s eighteen. It’s legal. And her fiancé is just as young.”
They watched as Jonah intercepted Katie and her niece twined both her arms around one of his, hanging onto him as they made their way toward the stage where her mother was now gesturing urgently.
“I can’t imagine getting married at eighteen. Their brains are still developing.”
“Weren’t you running a business from your dorm room at that age?”
“That isn’t the same thing. Though I might have been more successful if I had gotten married young—less time and mental energy spent trying to figure out how to get girls to sleep with me if I had a wife.”
Parv cringed. “Can we please avoid implying that my baby niece is getting married for the access to regular sex?”
“Sorry.”
They fell silent as Angie spoke into the microphone, calling their attention to the stage. After a volley of speeches by half a dozen family members on each side of the aisle, Angie turned the microphone back over to the band leader and the music started up again.
Max took Parv’s empty glass from her hands and passed it to a waiter. “Come on. Let’s dance.”
“Of course you can dance. You can do everything,” she grumbled as he led her to the floor.
He twirled her into his arms, and Parv was grateful for the few swing classes she’d taken with Katie so she didn’t tromp all over his feet as he pulled her into an easy shuffle.
“Ballroom dance club was part of my elaborate plan to get girls to sleep with me in college,” he admitted, smoothly guiding her through the steps. “Do you know what the ratio of women to straight men was in that club?”