by Addison Cole
Treat shook his head. “So, Dad, are you ever going to let me pay for that stone patio you keep talking about?”
“He doesn’t need your money, Treat,” Rex said roughly. “He needs my time.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Treat said.
“We’ve been busy running the ranch,” Rex said with a hefty amount of attitude. “I haven’t had time to get started. But I’ll take care of it.”
“I could bring in a crew to help you out,” Treat offered.
“Are you the crew?” Rex asked pointedly.
Treat stared him down.
“Boys, settle down. I need a patio like I need a hole in my head,” their father snapped. “Tell me about your latest acquisitions, Treat. What did you decide about Thailand?”
Treat had been negotiating for a resort in Thailand when he’d first met Max. The justice of the peace who was supposed to preside over Blake’s wedding in Nassau had fallen ill, and Treat had canceled his trip to Thailand and stepped in to officiate. He’d put the acquisition on hold after that weekend. But two days ago he’d received an email from his long-time friend Bill Harkness, the owner of the resort, advising him they had received another offer and honoring their verbal agreement of first right of refusal. Treat was best when he had a challenge, and Thailand would be just that. Taking over the resort would consume all his time and energy for at least three months.
“It’s a solid resort and the numbers work,” he explained. “I told them I’d submit an offer within two weeks.” Unable to stop thinking about Max, he’d figured, after this trip home, three months away might be just what he needed. Now he wasn’t so sure.
“He’s in Max mode,” Savannah added.
Treat glared at her.
“Who’s Max?” Josh asked.
“Some hot girl who works at the festival and has Treat all googly-eyed,” Savannah said.
“Hm. Max is a woman?” Josh arched a brow and grinned.
“Yes, she’s a woman, and no, I’m not in Max mode.” Treat bit into a hunk of steak, wishing Savannah had never seen her. Max’s number had been burning a hole in his pocket ever since she’d given it to him, and it was all he could do not to get up and call her right that second.
“Treat, googly-eyed? You gotta be kidding me. The man eats women for breakfast,” Hugh said with a deep laugh. He was always quick to throw a barb and just as quick to return to whatever he was doing for himself beforehand—in this instance, he turned his attention back to his plate of food and speared a forkful of potato.
Treat threw his napkin on the table. “Cut the crap, okay?”
He knew he was overreacting, and he knew Hugh was only stating what had once been the truth. Bile rose in his throat just thinking of himself in that player role. Yeah, he’d been with a lot of women, but he’d never found anyone who made him want more.
Hugh shrugged off his roar. “I won today. First place.”
“Good job, son.” His father raised his beer bottle. “To Hugh.”
“To Huge!” the boys said in unison.
Savannah shook her head. “Idiots.”
AFTER DINNER TREAT, Dane, and Rex cleared the table and did the dishes while Savannah visited with her father and Josh and Hugh talked about Hugh’s race.
“Something you want to tell us?” Dane asked once they were safely in the kitchen, away from the others.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Treat busied himself digging in a drawer for a dish towel.
“Is that the same Max from Blake’s wedding?” Dane asked.
“How would you know Max from Blake’s wedding? You never even met her.” Dane had shown up for the wedding, but he had been called away for an emergency before the ceremony.
Dane cringed under his scrutiny.
“You’re seeing Lacy, aren’t you?” Lacy was Blake’s wife’s half sister. He had met her at the wedding. Treat had almost forgotten that Dane had given him a message to pass on to Lacy after he’d been called away.
“Nope.” Dane focused on scrubbing a plate.
“Then how do you know Max?” Treat briefly wondered if Dane had somehow met and hit on her. Dane had slept with one of Treat’s girlfriends when he was visiting Treat at college, and it had taken them months to move past what they now called the Mary Jane incident and get on solid ground again. Mary Jane had tried to reconcile with Treat, but any girlfriend who would sleep with his brother was not a girlfriend he needed. He’d gone out and hooked up with the most beautiful girl on campus the next night—right after sending Dane back home. He trusted Dane now, but even still, thinking about that incident brought it all to the forefront of Treat’s mind.
“Dane?” he asked with a fisted hand. He and his brothers had come to blows many times over the years, but it had been forever since Treat had felt the urge to punch anyone. Max wasn’t even his to claim, but he couldn’t stop his protective claws from coming out.
“Leave him alone, Treat.” Rex planted himself between them.
Treat stared at Dane until he relented and said, “I talked to Lacy a few days later, to apologize for not being at the wedding. She told me about Max coordinating the event, and that you two left together one evening, and…I know she hooked up with Justin, and I just assumed…” Dane shrugged.
Fire exploded inside Treat. He grabbed Dane, but Rex batted his arm away. Treat wasn’t about to stand down. He drew his shoulders back, eyes locked on Rex, and stepped closer.
Rex crossed his arms, a formidable barrier.
Vaguely aware of his sister entering the kitchen, Treat spoke through gritted teeth. “Step aside, Rex.”
“What are you doing?” Savannah looked from one brother to the other.
“Dude’s out of control,” Dane said, taking a step back. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this jealous since Mary Jane.”
“Dane! Rex, get him out of here,” Savannah ordered.
Treat held Dane’s glower. It wasn’t Dane’s fault he was frustrated over Max. “Sorry, Dane. I don’t know what’s got into me.” He straightened his shirt and cleared his throat as Rex and Dane left the room. “Sorry, Savannah. I’m just on edge.”
“Why did he bring up Mary Jane?” she asked.
The worried look in Savannah’s eyes pulled Treat from his angst. She was particularly sensitive to her brothers being at odds, and even though it had been years since they’d fought over a woman, he knew she worried about him and Dane falling right back into that awful place and time.
“I’m fine. He was just egging me on,” Treat answered.
“Yeah, well, you all can be jerks at one time or another,” Savannah said, fixing his collar.
Dane and Rex came back into the kitchen carrying more dishes.
“Is it safe?” Rex asked.
Treat locked eyes with Dane in a silent warning not to talk about Max and Justin in the same breath again.
“Yes, it’s safe,” Savannah insisted, glaring at Treat. “Treat, you have to go out with me and Hugh tonight.”
“What are we, second rate?” Rex asked.
Savannah rolled her eyes. “You’re anything but second rate. That’s the problem. I don’t want to spend the evening beating women away with a stick because you two look at them like you want to devour them. Treat has more couth. It’s the festival after-party. Hugh has a date and two extra tickets.” She raised her brows and said, “Max might be there.”
The mention of Justin and Max had made his blood boil, and he wasn’t sure he could even look at Max without feeling it rip through him again. “I’m beat,” he lied.
“Yeah? Well, wake up,” Savannah said. “You’re going.”
“She made it pretty clear that she wants distance from me. I can’t push myself on her.”
“Treat, you’re such a fool. All men are. No matter what we women say, we want the knight in shining armor. We want Richard Gere riding up in his white limousine. We want Leonardo DiCaprio to tell us that he’ll never let us go.”
&
nbsp; “I don’t know about that,” Treat said. “Don’t they want us to respect their space when they make it clear they want it?” Savannah’s energy was finding its way into his body, and he was actually wondering if he was wrong and should go after Max.
“Nope,” she said. “We want you to read between the lines.”
“She didn’t leave much for interpretation.”
“Trust me, big brother,” Savannah said. “Every woman wants her man to read between the lines, and because of that, she leaves a bread-crumb trail for you to find her.”
“I’m a pretty wise man. If there were a bread-crumb trail, I’d have seen it before she even realized she left it.” He had dissected every word Max had said, and beyond the way she looked at him—like she wanted to kiss him as she had that night—there wasn’t a hint of an open door. Was that the trail? Or had he conjured it in his mind with wishful thinking?
“Don’t fool yourself. You’re wise when it comes to business, but maybe not so much when it comes to the mysterious ways of women. Be ready for the party at seven. You’re going with me.”
Chapter Five
WHY THE HECK had Max given Treat her number? More bothersome, why hadn’t he called? She had taken out her battery and rebooted her phone twice and had been checking her messages like she had OCD. She didn’t know why she even hoped he’d call. He was a man with many resources. He could have tracked her down any time after she left the resort, and he hadn’t. She was a fool to have played right into his hands again, sweet apology or not. He was in town to visit his father. Chances were he’d forgotten about Max the minute he’d walked away. The same way he did after Nassau. Maybe seeing her had simply sparked a memory, and he felt guilty for judging her. Well, she’d take that guilty apology over nothing any day, even if she hadn’t been ready to accept it.
Now, if she could only stop thinking about him.
“Max, you’ve done it again,” Chaz said as they left the festival that evening. They had reviewed the day’s financial reports, and it was obvious that he was still thinking about their overwhelming success. It was only the first day, and they had already almost matched the previous year’s total festival revenue.
“Not me, boss. We did it. At least the first day went off without a hitch.” She’d been sure Chaz would say something about how weird she’d acted around Treat, but he hadn’t mentioned him at all. Maybe she’d gotten lucky and no one else had noticed how uncomfortable she’d been, either.
“Don’t forget, you said you’d do the after-party swing tonight. I can’t wait to go home and see Trevor and Lexi. It’s been a long day.” Chaz and Kaylie had been married for just shy of two months, but their twins were two years old.
The after-parties were one of the highlights of the film festival, where locals and fans could mingle with celebrities, dance the night away, and take home expensive swag to boot. But Max wasn’t the partying type, and tonight of all nights, she wasn’t in the mood to pretty herself up and play nice. Maybe she could get out of it.
“Aren’t the kids asleep by now?”
“Yes, but I still like to peek in on them. Besides, they’re asleep.” He raised his eyebrows. “We’re still newlyweds, after all.”
“Come on, Chaz,” she pleaded. “You know I hate these things.”
“It’ll do you some good. You spend too much time working and not enough time socializing. Get out there, Max, and have some fun. Meet a nice guy and let him wine and dine you.”
“I’d rather wine and dine myself while reading on the comfort of my own couch.”
“Max…”
He gave her his I’m-counting-on-you look. The one she’d never been able to deny. “Fine! But you owe me one.”
“Add it to the other million I owe you,” he said as he walked away.
MAX STOOD IN her bedroom staring at her closet, which looked more like a teenager’s than that of an almost-thirty-year-old woman, with too many T-shirts, sweatshirts, and jeans and not nearly enough grown-up clothes. She inspected the few dresses she owned, then selected two short black numbers and hung them on the closet door. One was tight fitting with a plunging neckline, leaving very little to the imagination, while the other was more conservative with a ring neck and slit pockets at the hips. Kaylie had convinced her to buy the one with the plunging neckline before the wedding, and when she and Treat had first met, she couldn’t wait to wear it for him. But the hours they’d spent in each other’s arms had come with no warning. She hadn’t even had time to change out of her jeans when he’d dragged her out of the restaurant and swept her away for the next several hours. Even though they were the most incredible few hours of her life, when he’d invited her to his room, she’d held back, afraid of the overwhelming emotions that had swamped her. A few hours later, he’d seen her with Justin, and the desire to look sexy had disappeared.
Maybe she should have run after him, cleared up the situation right away. But the awful look he’d given her had thrown her right back to the boyfriend she’d thought she’d known who had turned on her with a vengeance. Max was brave, but she wasn’t brave enough to walk directly into potential fire. She needed to remember that now, as she romanticized Treat and his apology.
Her cell phone rang, and for the second time that day, Max froze.
Her phone sat in the middle of her bed, lighting up like a beacon. Her traitorous heart went wild, hoping it was Treat. The incoming phone number came up as restricted. Her mind raced through scenarios. What would she say if it was Treat? What would he say? What if he asked her out? Should she go? She wanted to go, despite everything. He’d apologized, hadn’t he? Even if she’d pretended she didn’t know what he was talking about.
She stared at the ringing phone as if it were a land mine. Her mind reeled, but she couldn’t hold back. As she’d done the night she’d fallen into Treat’s arms, she threw caution to the wind and dove for it, quickly pushing the green icon. “Hello? Hello?”
She was met with dead air.
Max ended the call and banged her head against the mattress. She waited for her message light to blink, and when it didn’t, she pushed to her feet with disgust.
“You’re such a fool,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. She stripped off her clothes on the way to the bathroom and stepped angrily into the shower. “An idiot, a chicken.” She scrubbed her scalp so hard she was sure she was leaving scratches.
By the time she dried off, she’d calmed down a little and thought maybe it was better this way. No hard decisions to make, no trying to figure out if he was going to be like her ex, sweet one minute and crazy the next. She dried her hair and fluffed it into a sultry style around her face, then assessed herself in the mirror. She looked pretty good.
Max hadn’t been on a date since her night with Treat. Not that she dated much anyway. She’d been denying her sexual urges for years—literally—because of the frightening scenario that had unfolded in the bedroom with her ex, Ryan Cobain.
She could do better than a man who would judge her, and as an idea formed in her head, a hopeful grin lifted her lips.
Maybe it was time she broke that wretched streak and forgot Treat altogether. It wasn’t in her nature to pick up a man, and even the thought of it petrified her. But a distraction from her past, and from Treat, was just what she needed to move on. She was confident in every aspect of her life except the one Ryan had ruined for her, and she hated that. Though she wasn’t sure how to get past it.
Everything started with baby steps, right? If she could get out there and flirt a little, she’d have people other than Treat to think about. That was a good place to begin. First she needed to look hot, not just good.
She turned on some music and danced as she got ready for her big night. She went heavy on the makeup, which took some time since she hardly ever wore any, and stepped into one of the few lace thongs she owned, feeling naughty and a little uncomfortable. She wanted to feel sexy, and this would help. At least that’s what Kaylie always said. Sexiness is a
state of mind and starts with what nobody else sees. She slithered into the skintight dress with the plunging neckline and spun around as the tunes escalated, slipping her bare feet into a pair of efficient black heels. She stood before the mirror, surveying herself from top to bottom. Her dark eyeliner said, Take me, her body screamed, Touch me, and her crimson lips whispered, I’m in control, but the total package, including the efficient heels, shouted, Faker!
She kicked off her heels and stared at her other footwear options with a frown. Efficient, efficient, efficient. No matter which dress she chose, she’d feel like a fake. How on earth did I make it this far? She snagged her phone from the bed and texted Kaylie.
Can I borrow your high black heels?
Her phone vibrated seconds later. High black heels? lol. You mean the take-me-now heels?
Max rolled her eyes and texted back. I guess.
Kaylie’s text came fast. Who’s the guy?
She responded, Festival after-party. Yes or no?
A minute later her answer arrived. Yup. Babies are sleeping. I’ll leave the heels on the porch.
Max squealed, immediately worrying that maybe she’d interrupted a private moment between Chaz and Kaylie since Kaylie said she’d leave the heels on the porch. Oh well, what was done was done. She couldn’t worry about that now. She spritzed on her sexiest perfume, put on her flip-flops, grabbed her purse and keys, and headed for Kaylie’s house.
Twenty minutes later she was walking up Kaylie’s front steps. As promised, the black stilettos were on the front porch.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about Treat!”
Max gasped. “Kaylie! You scared the daylights out of me!”
Kaylie came out of the dark garage and into the light of the porch. Her blond hair was tousled, and she wore a nighty that barely covered her underwear—at least Max hoped she was wearing underwear—and fuzzy slippers.
“Sorry, but if you’re borrowing my heels, I want details.”