by Addison Cole
“Are you okay?” the man beside her asked in a sympathetic voice.
Max nodded. “Mm-hm.”
“Are you sure? Because you look a might bit upset.”
“I am a little upset,” she admitted.
“I thought you might be. You’re too pretty of a gal to let anything make you so upset. Wanna talk about it?”
Max smiled. “No, thank you. It’s a little embarrassing.”
The old man scratched his head. “All righty, then. Did you enjoy the festival?”
“Yes. It was nice,” she answered as the shuttle ambled along the busy road.
“Are you from around here?” he asked. “Wait. Don’t answer that. Just say this for me. Park the car in the Harvard yard and party hearty.” Every “ar” came out as “ah.”
Max laughed. “I know this one.” She feigned a New England accent. “Pahk the cah in the Hahvahd yahd and pahty hahty.”
“So, you are from around here,” he teased.
“Colorado, actually. Well, that’s where I live now. I’m originally from Virginia.”
“Either way, you’re a long way from home. I’ve lived here all my life.”
He told her the history of the festival and about how it had changed through the years, but Max was too lost in her own thoughts to retain any of the details. She listened instead to the calming cadence of his voice. By the time the shuttle stopped at White Crest Beach she felt less anxious, and she thanked him for making her feel better.
“If you just got in today, you probably don’t have any dinner plans,” he said. “You’re welcome to have dinner with me and the missus, if you’d like. I’m sure Vicky would enjoy having company, and I promise, no oysters.”
Max thought about her options. She didn’t know how long it would be before she heard from Treat, and she was a little hungry and cold.
“There she is now,” he said as a woman pulled up in an old pickup truck.
“Chris, are you bothering that young lady?” the woman asked. She wore her long gray hair pulled back in a ponytail much like Max’s, and her wide smile brightened her friendly blue eyes.
“No. He’s been really sweet,” Max said.
“She just got into town today, and I was inviting her to have dinner with us,” he answered.
“Why, sure! I have plenty of salmon and chicken, corn on the cob, and I know we have enough Jell-O for dessert,” the woman said. “By the way, I’m Vicky Smith, Chris’s better half. His manners could use a good overhaul.”
“I don’t know,” Max said. The responsible side of her wondered if she was getting herself into an unsafe situation. They seemed nice enough, but…
A car pulled up with another older couple in it, and the driver rolled down his window. “Hey, Vicky. Y’all coming to the bonfire tonight?”
“Oh yeah, we’ll be there,” Vicky answered. “Hey, Marge.” She waved to a woman walking by. “You coming to the bonfire?”
“I’ll be there!” the woman answered, and continued on her way toward another couple.
Max watched the interactions, and unless she had entered some alternate Stephen King universe where the entire town was involved in hacking up tourists, why shouldn’t she go spend some time with them? After all, she could answer Treat’s call at their house just as easily as she could sitting on the dune in the cold.
MAX HAD BEEN hungrier than she’d thought she was, and the meal was delicious. She helped Vicky with the dishes while Chris gathered blankets and chairs for the bonfire she’d heard them talking about earlier. She was glad she’d accepted their generous invitation. But now that the conversation had stalled, thoughts of Treat came rushing back, and she wondered how much longer it would be until she heard from him. It was already dark out.
“Did you come out just for the festival this weekend?” Vicky asked as she handed a plate to Max for her to dry. She reminded Max of her own grandmother. She had the same generous spirit and made the same type of quippy remarks to Chris as her grandmother used to make to her grandfather.
“No.” I came searching for my boyfriend.
“Work?” Vicky pressed.
“No, not work.” Max dried another dish and placed it on the counter.
“Love?”
Yes was on the tip of Max’s tongue, but she didn’t say it. She didn’t want to get into a big conversation about Treat. She was already nervous about finding him at all tonight.
“No wonder you seem sidetracked.” Vicky set down the dish she was scrubbing. “I’m gonna tell you what my mama told me many years ago. She said, ‘Men are like weeds. Some will strangle you until you can’t breathe, and some will strangle you once, see you can’t breathe, and till your soil for the rest of their lives to make sure you’re never strangled again.’ Then she would wink at me and say, ‘If he strangles you again, get your caboose right back here. If he tills your soil, make me some grandbabies.’ And that was that. I’ve never looked back. You just need to find your tiller, Max.”
“I think I already found him. I just have to find him here. We keep missing each other’s calls.”
“Gotta love technology,” Vicky said. “It’s not like the old days when you dated the boy down the street from the time you were thirteen until you married him at eighteen.”
“Is she telling stories again?” Chris came into the kitchen with his coat on.
Max loved these two already. “I like Vicky’s stories.”
“See that, Chris? Not everyone has heard my stories as many times as you. Are we ready? Truck packed?” Vicky asked, drying her hands on a dish towel.
“All set.” Chris waved toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“Max, did you bring a coat? It gets cold, even with the bonfire. Chris, grab one of my coats for her.”
“Um…? I thought you were taking me back to my car.”
“To your car?” Vicky asked. “Oh goodness, Max. You can’t wait around for a man all your life. Come for a little while. Meet our friends.”
Max pulled out her phone one more time, and the voicemail message light was on. “That’s weird. I didn’t hear my phone ring, but there’s a message.”
“Sometimes that happens around here,” Vicky said. “I think it’s the Lord’s way of telling us to put the darn things down every once in a while. Unplug. Relax.”
Max excused herself and walked into the dining room to listen to the message. Hi, sweetness. She melted a little inside at the sound of Treat’s voice. I thought I’d try to catch you again. I tried to text, but it wouldn’t go through. I’m heading out with some old friends for a little while. I’ll try you again when I get back. I love you, Max, and I can’t wait to see you.
She couldn’t suppress her elation as she joined Vicky and Chris on their way out to the truck.
Vicky took one look at Max and grinned. “Looks like someone got her call.”
Max knew her answer was in her mile-wide smile.
“So?” Vicky raised her brows. “Are you coming with us for a little while? Or heading out for a romantic rendezvous?”
“I’d love to come with you for a bit if you don’t mind. My tiller is out with friends.” Max followed them to the truck, her belief in fate reinstated once again.
Chapter Seventeen
THE WIND PICKED up, turning Treat’s thick hair into a mass of waves. He’d gone home to grab a sweater, and now he stood at the top of the dune looking down at the beach and counting the bonfires, realizing he had no way of knowing which one was Chuck and Bonnie’s. There were enormous groups of people around each fire pit, and for a minute Treat considered going back to the bungalow. Maybe Chuck and Bonnie wouldn’t even notice his absence.
All he really wanted was to talk with Max, but Chuck and Bonnie had been good friends to him for more years than he cared to remember. He kicked off his loafers and descended the steep sandy ramp to the beach below. The deep, cold sand covered his bare feet with each step. He took a moment to listen to the waves breaking against the shore, and his thou
ghts traveled to the night in Nassau with Max. They’d come so far. The moon hovered over the water like a beacon in the clear dark sky. Laughter filtered up from his right, where children were tossing a ball and diving into the sand to retrieve it.
The feel of the sea air on his cheeks had always been one of his favorite sensations. It reminded him of playing along the water’s edge when he was younger, while his mother and father watched from nearby. He bent down and rolled up the legs of his gray linen pants. From his crouched position, he watched a group of teenagers drawing pictures in the air with sparklers, just as he and his siblings had done. He remembered his mother’s laughter as she teased him, chasing squeals from his lungs as she’d swoop him from the sand and tickle his belly years before she’d been too weak to even lift her own chin. He didn’t allow himself to visit those memories too often. But now, while he was missing Max, he reveled in the warmth of them.
“Go ahead. I’ll catch up!” Treat heard someone yell. He blinked away the memories and headed down the beach toward the first bonfire. Might as well get this over with.
A few minutes later he heard his name from behind.
He turned, expecting to see Chuck. Smitty stood a few feet away, carrying an armful of blankets. Treat walked back through the dense sand and took the blankets from Smitty’s arms.
He embraced his old friend. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Oh, you know Vicky. Any excuse for a party.” Smitty’s white hair looked almost gray in the moonlight. “Are you with our bonfire tonight?”
“I don’t know. I’m looking for Chuck and Bonnie Holtz.”
Smitty shook his head. “They’re not with our group.” He scanned the people closest to them. “Isn’t that them right there?” He pointed to a couple roasting marshmallows around the nearest bonfire.
“Your eyes are better than mine. I think you might be right.”
“Treat!”
Treat groaned at the sight of Amanda, the daughter of Bonnie’s friend, who had been at dinner with them. He’d made it clear that he was not on the market, but she was like a gnat, refusing to be deterred.
“Looks like you have a lady friend waiting for you. Here. Give me the blankets and go join your party.” Smitty reached for the blankets.
“That’s okay. I’ll bring them to your bonfire.” Anything to avoid Amanda.
Smitty yanked the blankets from his arms, eyeing the woman who was heading their way with a determined look on her face. “That one’s not taking no for an answer. We’re the last bonfire down on the left. Stop by later, and bring your friend if you’d like.”
“She’s not my friend!” Treat called after him.
Half an hour later, Treat could no longer stomach Amanda, even to spend time with his friends. She was clingy and vile, offering to do all sorts of dirty things to him and refusing to accept his gentlemanly denials. She was so persistent that he half expected to hear, All that for a cool five hundred dollars. He was on the verge of telling her flat-out, I will not ever sleep with you. He’d never had to go that far before. Then again, he’d never been so in love with one woman that he’d turn down another.
“I’ll tell you what,” Amanda said as she pawed at his arm. “If you’ll take a walk with me—one walk.” She leaned closer and whispered, “I promise you, I’ll rock your world. I’ll be your treat.”
Treat gritted his teeth against his anger. He could have a string of nameless, faceless women if he wanted them. But now he knew what it was like to feel more than lust, to look into someone’s eyes and want much more than sexual gratification—a lifetime of smiles and handholding, breakfasts, and yes, saucy, sumptuous, scorching-hot nights of lovemaking. Enough was enough.
“Excuse me,” he said for the hundredth time, and walked away from Amanda, making a beeline for Chuck. Why did he have to be such a gentleman? He smiled to himself with the thought. It was the same question Max had asked.
“Chuck, I had a great time, but I really have to run. Bonnie, you know I think the world of you, but you should think twice before inviting Amanda out again. She’s a bit aggressive.”
Bonnie flushed. “I’m sorry. I had no idea you were taken until you told us over dinner, and by then it was too late to uninvite her.”
“It’s okay, though I’m surprised you’d think I’d be interested in someone like her.”
“I guess I thought that a guy like you was used to women throwing themselves at him,” Bonnie explained.
“Yes, but have you ever seen me take any of them up on their offers? For that matter, have you ever seen me with a woman since you’ve known me?”
“Well, no,” she admitted.
He put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “Then please don’t underestimate me.” He patted Chuck on the arm. “Thanks, buddy. We’ll catch up soon.”
Treat headed down the beach toward Smitty’s bonfire to say a quick hello and get back to his bungalow to call Max.
MAX PULLED THE top layer of a roasted marshmallow off and put it in her mouth, then licked the sticky goodness from her fingers. It had been ages since she’d roasted marshmallows, and she was having a wonderful time talking with Vicky and her friends. She’d had a few cups of wine and she was feeling good. This was just what she needed. A little time to destress and pull herself together after her long trip.
As much as she loved the mountains of Colorado, there was something about being by the water that made her feel good all over. A young family was walking down the beach, two children running ahead with their toes in the water, while the parents walked arm in arm. She allowed herself a momentary fantasy of having a future, and a family, with Treat. She was getting miles ahead of herself, but she couldn’t escape the hope in her heart.
Smitty nudged Vicky’s arm and said, “I forgot to tell you who I ran into.”
“God himself?” Vicky teased.
“Sort of. Treat Braden.”
Max choked on her marshmallow.
Vicky patted her on the back. “Get her a drink! Quick, Chris.”
Chris handed her a bottle of wine, which Max chugged, and when she stopped choking, she drank some more to calm her nerves, until she’d downed nearly half the bottle. Her heart was racing as she tried to figure out how to surprise him. Should she run down the beach and into his arms? Or be coy about it and sneak up, as he had to her in the parking lot after work? She remembered Kaylie’s advice and decided calm, cool, and collected was probably the most seductive way to make her entrance. This is going to be the best surprise ever!
“A little thirsty, Max?” Vicky said with a curious smile.
“Sorry. Thank you. Did you say ‘Treat Braden’?” she asked.
“Yes. You know him?” Chris asked.
Her pulse spiked. “Yes, I know him very well.” I’m in love with him. Max looked down the beach, but it was too dark to make out anything more than basic figures. “Tall guy, handsome as the day is long?” Long as the day is handsome!
“He’s got a place here in Wellfleet. I’ve known his family for years.” Chris laughed. “He still calls me Smitty, like his pop does. It was a nickname I had as a younger man.”
“A much younger man,” Vicky teased. “If I’m reading that spark in your eyes correctly, I’d think that Treat might be the reason you’re here.”
Max grinned and pushed to her feet, swaying a little from the wine. “You’d be reading me perfectly. I think I’ll just go to the bathroom and freshen up before I go looking for him. It’s in the parking lot, right?”
“I’ll go with you.” Vicky popped up from her chair.
“No. I can manage. Thank you, though.” She started for the dunes. She climbed the sandy ramp to the parking lot and found the small cinder-block bathroom. Inside, she flicked on the light and stood in front of the mirror, staring at her glassy eyes. Her cheeks were pink from the alcohol, but she didn’t care. She was beyond happy. Her surprise was going to work out after all.
She fluffed her hair, turned her
face one way, then the other, narrowed her eyes, and then opened them wide again. She’d never considered herself to be someone special, but Treat thought she was, and that made her believe she just might be. She washed her hands, excited to surprise him, and headed out to find her man.
She scanned the beach, spotting his height first, and her hand flew to her heart. Look at him. He took her breath away. She started down the ramp, her gaze trained on Treat as he strode down the beach. A blonde ran after him calling his name, and Max’s stomach pitched. She stilled as Treat stopped in his tracks and the blonde touched his arm.
“Hey. Don’t touch him,” Max said aloud, though too quietly for anyone else to hear, and started down the steep incline.
She spotted Vicky approaching Treat as the blonde moved in front of him and tugged him down by his shirt. It was such a possessive move, Max stumbled and fell to her butt on the hard sand at the same moment the blonde pressed her lips to Treat’s cheek.
Treat turned in Max’s direction, and for a beat she couldn’t breathe. She could only see Treat’s silhouette, but she swore the air between them electrified. What was going on? Who was that witch? No, no, no, no, no! This could not be happening. Not with Treat.
Chapter Eighteen
“MAX!” VICKY YELLED, running to help her to her feet.
Max was too stunned to move, watching as Treat grabbed the blonde by her shoulders and said something Max couldn’t hear, but his body language told her all she needed to know as he hulked over her, moving rigidly, not languid and loving the way he was with Max. He released the woman’s arms and strode directly toward the ramp, falling into step beside Vicky.