Jessi was quick to abuse her friends’ assumptions. “It’s not what you think. He wasn’t exactly happy to hear it.”
“Of course he wasn’t.” Gracie grinned and flipped the toilet seat cover down to sit. “You no doubt scared the shit out of him.”
A dismissive sniff tickled Jessi’s nose. “Max isn’t scared of anything.”
“Don’t kid yourself, sweetie. He’s scared to death of you.”
Renewed frustration simmered in her belly as she recalled the entirety of the evening and his comments during her self-defense lesson the next morning. “Scared isn’t how I’d describe his reaction. An hour earlier, he went to great lengths to let me know any romantic relationship between us would be a temporary one.”
“Men can be such jerks.” Kris’s lips arched down in a scowl, and she rolled her eyes.
“You can say that again.” Jessi tossed her head. “He said, and I quote, ‘When this is over, I’ll move on to the next woman. If you can live with that, I’m more than happy to accept what you’re so determined to give.’”
“Shut. Up.” Gracie narrowed her eyes. “He did not say that.”
“Verbatim.”
Gracie stared at her in silence for several heartbeats. Disappointment darkened her eyes. “Please tell me you slugged him.”
For the first time since she’d listened to Max lay out his plan to call the Krandalls out, Jessi laughed. “I considered it. Instead, I decided to call his bluff.” Frustration bubbled, and she clenched her teeth. “I don’t understand him, Gracie. I know a guy’s sex drive is a powerful force, but hormones and lust don’t account for what I see in his eyes whenever he touches me. He has feelings for me, yet, for years, he’s acted as if I were invisible.”
“That’s true.” Kris nodded. “He has.”
Jessi turned back to Gracie. “I’m beginning to think he avoided me on purpose.”
“Ya think?”
She blinked at the sarcastic confirmation. “But why?”
Suddenly, Gracie sucked in a breath and rubbed a hand along her side.
Both Jessi and Kris rushed forward to assist as she shifted her weight to stand.
“What is it?” Kris wrapped an arm around Gracie’s waist. “Should I go get Jake?”
“Oh, Lord. Don’t do that. He’ll panic and I’ll end up spending the night in the emergency room.” Gracie pushed the heel of her palm against the side of her belly, and Jessi’s eyes widened as the mound shifted beneath the clinging cloth.
“Oh my God.” Kris pulled her arm free and stared as the mound continued to move.
Gracie laughed. “Cool, huh?”
“Freaky. Does it hurt?”
“Nope, but freaky is an apt description.”
“That’s amazing.” Jessi grinned and couldn’t resist resting her hand over the tiny foot-shaped bump that suddenly appeared high on Gracie’s belly.
“You should feel it from my perspective. These guys are future acrobats. The bigger they get, the more they complain about the close quarters.”
Jessi removed her hand. Gracie’s suddenly intense gaze held her in place.
“I love Max like a brother and would never break a confidence, but since he’s never technically requested I keep my mouth shut on the subject, I’m going to tell you my theory.” She dipped her head closer and bounced her gaze between Jessi and Kris. “And if either of you tell Max I told you, you’re going to need a hell of a lot more than a few self-defense lessons. Am I clear?”
Kris snorted, and a helpless laugh escaped Jessi. She nodded.
“Good.” Gracie straightened. “It’s simple. Max doesn’t think he’s good enough for you.”
Jessi stared at her. Of all the possible explanations she might have imagined, Gracie’s theory was the last one Jessi would have considered. Not good enough for her? This from a man who dropped everything to help when she asked? A man willing to share his juvenile police record with the world to protect her image?
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Agreed, but true nonetheless.” Gracie’s heavy sigh was tinged with a mix of frustration and sadness. “He has ghosts, Jessi. Ghosts that keep him on the outside, looking in at the happiness that should be his. Perhaps the source is contained in that file in the other room. Perhaps not. Either way, something in his past has him convinced he doesn’t deserve the chance at happiness you represent.” She reached for Jessi’s clenched hands. “He’s done everything he could to deny those feelings you see in his eyes, and yet,” she cocked her head toward the door, “he’s out in the other room right now, proposing an action we both know he never would have considered except for you.”
Jessi slid her eyes shut as his reluctant acceptance of their relationship suddenly made sense. “How the hell am I supposed to defeat ghosts?”
Gracie squeezed her hands. “By not giving up on him, and not letting him give up on you.”
Chapter 22
Jessi stepped through the bedroom doorway and paused. On a stool at the kitchen island, Max sat with his back to her. With his knees spread, his black dress slacks hugged his butt, and the natural colored, weaved sweater enhanced the breadth of his wide shoulders. He bent forward slightly, rereading the sheet of paper containing the statement he’d prepared for the press with Tim and Kris’s help. Jessi smoothed a hand over the waist of her slim skirt and crossed the room. Slipping up behind him, she slid her hands around his waist to burrow them under his sweater and pressed her cheek to his back.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Beneath her fingers, the warm skin over his abs rippled as he straightened and spun on the stool. “Yeah, I do.”
Frustration and sadness tangled in her chest like a clenching fist. After last night’s family meeting, she’d tried to talk him out of today’s press conference. He’d dismissed her concerns, claiming chances were the Krandalls had discovered his plan to attain Haven Place, but even if they hadn’t, he owed it to his parents to set the record straight. More importantly, he was done watching the press come down on her for something that was his fault. Before they’d even arrived at his condo, he’d put the wheels in motion.
“Just call Tim and tell him you’ve changed your mind. He’ll handle the details.”
Gathering her between his knees, he cupped her hips and dropped a kiss on her nose. “Let it go, Jess. Vern and the guys are already downstairs, and the press is gathering outside. It’s done.”
A knock on the door cut off further argument. Irritation and guilt fought for supremacy as he gently moved her back and stood to cross the condo and answer the summons. Stepping to the side as Tuck breezed through the doorway, Max shut the door once CC, Jake, Gracie, and V had filed inside.
“Ready to face the vultures?” Winking at Jessi, Tuck helped CC settle on the stool Max had vacated, then headed for the fridge. “From the looks of things downstairs, they’ve got the place surrounded.”
Jessi shot Max a frown. “If it were up to me, I’d lock the front door and post a sign telling them all to go to hell.”
“If only it were that easy.” V dumped her purse on the island counter.
“Gracie tried something similar when they had the farm staked out years ago.” Jake grinned at his wife. “It didn’t work.”
Gracie pressed a kiss to Max’s cheek before moving farther into the room. She blew her husband a raspberry. “It would have if you’d cooperated. Instead, you had to kiss me on the porch—in front of their cameras.”
Jake dropped his arm around her shoulders. “As I recall, you kissed me, then dragged me upstairs for…” he smiled slyly, “a workout.”
V rolled her eyes. “Get a room, you two.”
Jake laughed, and Jessi blinked at the surprising blush coloring Gracie’s cheeks.
“Jesus. Do you have to bring up sex?” Tuck spun to lean his hips against the counter, a scowl puckering his forehead.
CC rested her hand on her belly
. “He’s frustrated. Last week the doctor told him he has to keep his hands to himself until after the baby comes.”
Immediately concerned, Jessi glanced between her cousin and CC. “Is there a problem with the baby? Why are you here? You should be at home, resting.”
CC waved her off with a laugh. “I’m fine and so is the baby. Other than his size.” She ran her hand over her baby bump in a circular massage. “Baby Huey is running out of real estate. The doctor is concerned he’ll stage a jail break earlier than we’d like.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m ready to break him out myself.” Tuck shot Max a frustrated glare. “The doc has me on the bench.”
“Please.” CC rolled her eyes. “You leave for the Super Bowl tomorrow afternoon. You’ll be too busy to think of sex at least through Sunday.”
Tuck’s smile was pure lecher. “Baby, a man is never too busy to think of sex.”
Max’s lips quirked in a smile, then sobered as he glanced around at his friends. “Thanks for coming. All of you. Considering your past experiences with the press, I would have understood if you’d insisted on staying away.”
“As if we’d let you face the mob on your own.” Gracie tossed her head and slid onto the stool beside CC. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Jessi bit her lip against a smile and turned to Max. The awkward wariness stiffening his proud face was so wrong, as if he hadn’t actually expected his friends to show and wasn’t sure why they had. A piercing sadness squeezed her heart at the further evidence of his blindness when it came to the loyalty and belief he inspired in others.
Gracie was right. Max needed to hear he was loved. By her, definitely, but by others as well. He also needed to be shown. Three short steps allowed her to wrap her arms around his waist. He absently returned the gesture and she smiled.
“Gracie’s right.” Lifting on her toes, she brushed his lips in a quick kiss. “Don’t be an idiot.”
He tightened his hold, and some of the wariness slid away as his eyes narrowed in a silent warning. Another knock sounded at the door and, tucking her cheek against his, she squeezed her arms a bit tighter as Jake let Tim in.
He joined the others around the island and eyed Max. “It’s almost two. You ready?”
Max tensed against her but nodded.
“Then let’s do this.”
Max released her to collect his statement from the island.
Jessi turned to Tim. “Where’s Dad?”
He briefly shifted his gaze to Max, and the flash of anger in his eyes came and went so quickly she decided she must have imagined it. He propped his briefcase on the counter and retrieved a stack of folders. “He had a meeting. I doubt he’ll show.”
“A meeting with who?”
Shrugging a shoulder, he closed the case and turned to Max. “I’ll give a brief opening and pass out the handouts. Then you’re up. Once you’re done with your statement, we’ll open it up to questions. Answer only the ones you want.”
“What if that doesn’t work?”
“Leave that to me.” V’s teeth flashed an eager smile.
Tim snapped his briefcase shut. “If things start to get out of hand, V and I will step in to handle it. Any questions before we start?”
Max shook his head. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Jessi reached for his hand and, as if he’d forgotten she was there, he blinked. His strained smile didn’t reach his eyes. Damn it, she wanted this over with, too, but most of all, she hated it was necessary in the first place. Elizabeth Krandall had a lot to answer for.
The chatter of voices from below hit them as they filed into the hallway. Rounding the corner, Jessi clung to Max’s hand and fought back a cringe. The fight center teemed with people. Not surprisingly, the music industry, sports world, and cable news outlets were all represented. As she’d feared, Super Bowl fever and the matchup between the Marauders and Hurricanes had exploded what should have been an obscure disagreement of facts into a front-page story.
Max had insisted on meeting the press on his home turf, and he certainly hadn’t gone out of his way to make things comfortable. No chairs were provided, and a half dozen of Max’s tattooed and muscled clients stood guard over the stanchions Vern had placed around the center’s mats. The precaution left little room for the forty plus reporters, along with several camera crews and their equipment, crammed together like credentialed sardines.
As Max and Jessi descended the steps, followed by Tim and V, Tuck, CC, and the Malones, the noise level dropped and all heads turned their way. Jessi’s gaze roamed the faces of the large crowd, concerned but not surprised to find Craig’s among them. A shy smile moved over his face as she met his gaze. Apparently, he’d forgiven her for her unintended slight yesterday, but she really was going to have to say something to his father. A crush was one thing, but it was a school day. Skipping class was another matter altogether.
Craig and his crush flew from her mind as Tim gave a brief greeting and passed out the press packets, then signaled to Max. Reluctantly, she released his hand so he could read his prepared statement. In a united front, she and the others stood at his back. He withheld nothing, ticking off the charges listed in his juvenile file. Her anger grew with each harsh detail, juxtaposed against the sweeter memories Kris had suggested he share. Jessi’s heart wept as he personalized the parents he’d lost, recalling a family trip to visit the Statue of Liberty when he’d still been young enough to ride on his father’s shoulders.
When Max finished, Jessi stepped forward to link her arm with his. Gaze guarded, he looked down at her, and the questions began to fly.
For nearly thirty minutes, he fielded the questions tossed at him. By design and demeanor, he refused to be dragged into a press conference war with his grandmother. Calmly and efficiently, he made it clear he was there simply to set the record straight about his parents. As for himself, the documents in the press packet contained the details of his childhood records. His lack of an adult record, and his business portfolio, spoke for themselves.
“Why did your grandmother and Mr. Sprig make their initial statement?”
Max met the reporter’s questioning gaze. “I have no idea. You’ll have to ask them.”
“Juvenile records are normally sealed,” a voice from the back called out. “How did the Krandalls become aware of the contents?”
“Again. You’ll have to ask them.”
Yet another question tripped over Max’s answer. “Your description of your parents’ relationship differs greatly from Mrs. Krandall’s. Why would she make such claims against her own daughter and son-in-law?”
“You’ll have to ask her.”
A local sports reporter held up his hand. “With your connection to both the Marauders through your relationship with Jessi and friendship with the Tuckers, and the Hurricanes through your grandmother, who’s your pick for Sunday’s game?”
Tuck spoke before Max could respond. “You’ll have to ask me.”
“And me,” Jake added.
Not to be left out, CC and Gracie spoke in tandem. “And me.”
The scattered laughter lightened the mood and, for several minutes, football took center stage. The handful of sports reporters peppered both Tuck and Jake on the Marauders’ chances of earning another championship.
Max’s arm muscles gradually loosened beneath Jessi’s fingers and relief lightened her heart. When asked how she felt about performing in a Super Bowl in which her cousin would play, Jessi smiled. “I couldn’t be more excited.” She shot Tuck a wicked grin. “But once it’s over, I think my cousin should share his new ring.”
The friendlier tone of the questioning was short lived, however, as Chet Bertrum found his voice.
“Jessi, you and your family are obviously supporting Mr. Grayson’s attempt to repair his reputation, but how does any of what was said today change the recent negative perception of you from your fans?”
Max tensed and opened his mout
h, but Jessi squeezed his arm. She offered Chet a syrupy sweet smile. “I wasn’t aware of any negative perception from my fans, Chet. Only spitefully negative articles about whom I choose to spend my time with.”
At her blatant reference to his last three articles, Chet’s face flushed all the way to his bald forehead, but she wasn’t finished.
“But you’re right. My fans are interested, so let me clear up any misperceptions.” She ignored Max’s clearing of his throat and held Chet’s gaze. “I support Max Grayson because he’s an honorable man. He’s not here today because he cares what you all think of him. Like he said, his record speaks for itself. He’s here because he’s the kind of man willing to share the private details of his life to protect and defend those people he cares about. Like his parents.” She turned her head and met Max’s concerned gaze. “And me.”
Facing forward once more, she brushed her gaze over the crowd. “I write and sing songs for a living. For years, I’ve entertained my fans with music about love and loyalty, happiness and the heart. Those are the things my fans care about, and they are exactly what I’ve found with Max.” She found Chet in the crowd. “I support Max Grayson because I love him.”
At Jessi’s side, Max shuffled his feet. She peeked at him in a sidelong glance, but instead of the panic he’d displayed the last time she said those words, wary wonder filled his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed in a tight swallow as Tim brought the press conference to a close.
Chapter 23
“I always said you were a stubborn son of a bitch, but I never would’ve called you a coward.”
Max dragged his gaze from the top of the staircase where Jessi had disappeared and sent Vern a glare. “I thought you were headed back to the gym.”
“And I thought you were driving me because you have shit to do there.” The old man’s thin lips curled in a sneer. “The next time you need an excuse for acting stupid, leave me out of it.”
Guilt ratcheted up Max’s spine. Stupid was a stretch, but coward definitely applied in this case. With the press cleared out and the fight center closed for the remainder of the day, Tim’s suggestion of a celebratory dinner had been met with approval all around. The hurt on Jessi’s face when Max offered his bullshit excuse of driving Vern back to the gym had twisted his guts in a knot, but he was too raw and off balance to trade quips with his friends and Jessi over drinks and dinner.
To Win Her Heart (Players) Page 20