Max (7 Brides for 7 Brothers Book 5)

by Lynn Raye Harris

  He dipped his head until he could nibble the skin of her neck. She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped.

  “I’m not going to disagree with that,” he said.

  “So you’re staying?” Was she really asking that? After everything?

  “I’m staying for now, babe.” He sighed and straightened. “I looked at the books.”

  Her insides squeezed for a different reason. Now he knew how bad it was. How little the farm brought in. If she sold a horse, then that floated her for a while. Board and training paid the monthly expenses, but little else. Not that she thought she could fool him into thinking the farm was profitable. She’d never thought that.

  But it could be. It had been once. She could make it so again. She just needed time.

  “What do you want to know?”

  Champ had turned his head and was nibbling the chain of a crosstie. Silly beast. Her heart filled with love for him, and then sadness followed. Because he was the one thing she had to sell to keep everything else.

  “You didn’t tell me that the money your mother borrowed went to medical bills.”

  Ellie blinked. She hadn’t told him about her mother—but Miguel could have, or Lacey. Or anyone in town. It wasn’t a secret what had happened to Pamela Applegate.

  She stepped out of his embrace and over to Champ to gently pry the chain from his mouth. Then she kissed his soft nose. Just because. When she turned around again, Max was waiting. Looking intense and concerned.

  “You probably know she had a brain tumor,” Ellie began. “She wasn’t diagnosed for so long.” She swallowed, the hurt as fresh now as it had been then. “But it wouldn’t have mattered, according to the doctors. What she had was fast-moving and irreversible. Even if they’d operated, it wouldn’t have changed the outcome. Maybe given her a little more time.”

  “I’m sorry, Ellie. I truly am.”

  “I know you are.” She sucked in a breath. “It was only little things at first. She’d get violently angry out of nowhere. Cuss and throw things and be so, so mean. And then she’d cry and apologize and everything would be fine for a few days. Then back to the volatile Pam. She was so unpredictable that all our clients left. A few tried to stick it out, but she insulted them one by one—it was ugly, Max. I begged her to stop, begged them not to go. But it was too late. They left us, and we suddenly had nothing. She called your father in one of her more lucid moments. I don’t know what she said to him, but he gave her the money. She went to a new doctor, got new tests—and they found it. The money your father gave us paid the expenses of the farm for months—but the bulk of it went to her care. She needed full-time caregivers for a while—and then she was in hospice at the end.”

  Ellie took a shaky sip of her coffee. She hated remembering the gaunt, frightened woman her mother became. She hated remembering the anger and yelling, even though it hadn’t been Momma’s fault.

  Max came over and pulled her into his arms. He held her close, just held her, and she closed her eyes and laid her cheek against his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady, and she took comfort in it. In him.

  Oh God, he was starting to mean too much to her. It hit her as she stood there in his arms and wanted to let him take care of her troubles that she was in too deep. Too soon, too deep. Was she that pitiful that she couldn’t stand on her own two feet when a man showed her compassion?

  Carefully, she extracted herself. She gave him a smile, though it wavered at the corners. “That’s the story then. That’s where the money went.”

  He was frowning. “We’re going to figure this out, Ellie. I don’t want you to lose the farm. I don’t want to take it away from you.”

  Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes. “But you want to start your business and change what you do with your life. That’s important too.”

  Had she really just said that? Of course she had, because while she was singularly focused on keeping the farm, she also cared what happened to him. She hadn’t meant to, hadn’t wanted to—but it was so much more complicated than a Brannigan rich boy coming to take her farm away, wasn’t it? For him, it meant a new start where he might not be in as much danger as the kind of jobs he did now. And that was important to her. Because she cared.

  He gave her a lopsided grin that stole her heart. “Yeah, well, I can wait a while longer. Been waiting this long—what’s the difference?”

  “I don’t want you to sacrifice what you want so I can have what I want. It’s not right.”

  “It’s the way the world works sometimes, Ellie.”

  “Hey, we’re ready to go if you are,” Lacey called out. She was standing in the aisle with Clover, and Ellie realized her friend must have cross-tied the mare in her stall instead of bringing her out here where they’d interrupt the conversation. Lacey had probably taken as much time as she could manage, but she needed to ride and get to work, and she needed Ellie to instruct her.

  Ellie gave Max a look. She didn’t know what she wanted to say to him, what made sense.

  “Go,” he said. “We can talk later.”

  She started down the aisle toward Lacey. “I’m coming.”

  16

  He’d said they could talk later, but instead he had Ellie bent over the edge of her bed, stroking into her from behind while she fisted the covers and shoved her hips backward, taking him in so deep that he thought he’d lose his mind.

  She was fire, this woman. Fire and heat, and she inspired feelings he hadn’t ever had before. He didn’t know what they meant, but he knew they felt damn good. Being inside Ellie was one of the best things in his life right now.

  He tried to make it last, but there was no way that was happening as good as this felt. He came in a hot, hard, gasping rush. She tightened around him and cried out as her own release slammed into her.

  They collapsed on the bed, his face buried in her hair, the heat of their bodies mingling as he pushed her hair aside and nuzzled her neck.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I meant to feed you first.”

  She laughed. “I prefer this. We can eat later.”

  He slid from her body and went to deal with the condom, then returned and gathered her into his arms. They lay naked on the bed, the covers thrown back, the ceiling fan gliding lazily around and around.

  “I planned to take you to Malone’s.”

  “You still can. I could use a steak tonight.”

  He’d worked in the house today, slicing open painted-shut windows, assessing the floors in all the rooms—there was still plenty of carpeting that needed to be ripped out—and sizing up the walls. This house had a ton of potential. Renovated, it could be one of those showplaces in Southern Living or Architectural Digest. There was a long way to go to that caliber, but the bones were there and he got a little lost in thinking about it.

  He’d gone up to take a shower after sanding the walls in the hall—and when he came out, the door to Ellie’s bedroom had been open. She’d been standing there, tugging her T-shirt over her head, and he’d gone from zero to sixty in about half a second.

  He’d restrained himself though. She’d been planning to hit the shower—so he hit it with her, no matter that he’d just showered. What they’d begun in the shower, they’d finished just now on her bed. It was, quite simply, heaven. How the fuck was he supposed to walk away from this?

  But he had to. He thought of his brothers—Luke, Gabe, Hunter, and Knox—and the way they’d succumbed to what they thought was love.

  He knew better. He knew Ellie was special, and he knew he cared about her. But it wasn’t love. It was lust. Pure, simple, unadulterated lust. He could burn himself out in the heat of her body and walk away free.

  And he would do that. Yes, he would. Soon.

  Reluctantly, he got up and tugged her to her feet. The late afternoon light slanted in through the blinds in her room and bathed her body in golden rays. She was soft in all the right places and leanly muscled too. He could spend hours exploring her.

  “Let’s go to dinn
er,” he said, “and you can tell me what happened in the barn today.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You don’t really want to hear all that.”

  “I do. Really.” When she still looked at him with disbelief, he ran his hands up and down her arms. “It’s interesting to me. I swear.”

  He left her to get dressed as he grabbed his towel and went downstairs to his own room. He quickly changed into jeans and a T-shirt, ran his hand through his hair, and he was done. His phone rang and he picked it up. He smiled when he saw who it was.

  “Aunt Claire,” he said when he answered.

  “Maxie, it’s good to hear your voice.”

  He didn’t let many people get away with calling him Maxie, but Aunt Claire was one of them. Hell, probably the only one he let get away with it, come to think of it. His brothers only called him that when they wanted to irritate him.

  “How’s California these days?” He hadn’t been out there in so long, but he was sure it was the same. Best Mexican food anywhere, which he sometimes missed like crazy. He’d had burritos on the East Coast, but they weren’t anywhere as good as a real California burrito.

  “Sunny. Glorious,” she said. “So how are you doing in Kentucky, honey?”

  “Fine. It’s pretty. So green and lush compared to back home in Calabasas.” Not that DC wasn’t green and lush too, but he didn’t spend a lot of time there. Most of his time was spent in the deserts of the Middle East these days, though he’d done assignments in other locations too.

  “Thanks for that picture of Kathleen and Pam. I loved it.” She paused for a second before she kept speaking, and he could picture her face screwing up as she thought about what she wanted to say. “I didn’t realize your father had bought Applegate Farm. I haven’t thought about that place in years, quite honestly. But I remember it was so pretty. Pam and her parents were terrific, and your mother spent a lot of time there. She loved horses.”

  His heart pinched. “I didn’t know that growing up. Wish I had. Why didn’t she have horses at the ranch? We had the space. Even had barns.”

  “I think she always intended to get a horse or two, but life was so busy with you boys and she kept putting off. She didn’t think it was fair to the animals, I imagine.”

  “Mary Lou sends her regards, by the way,” he said, and Aunt Claire laughed.

  “Oh my goodness, is she still there? Still has that diner in town?”

  “Yes. Amazing food too.”

  “How is Pam these days?”

  Max felt himself frowning as he thought of Ellie’s face that morning in the barn as she described her mother’s sickness. “She died about two years ago. Brain tumor.”

  “Oh my goodness. I didn’t know.”

  He could hear the emotion in her voice. That was Aunt Claire—soft and sweet and caring. Without her as the main female influence in their lives after their mother died, he didn’t know how he and his brothers would have turned out.

  “Her daughter runs the farm now. I think most of the money Pam borrowed from Dad went to palliative care.”

  “Oh dear. But I don’t think he knew that. He would have mentioned it. Pam and I weren’t close, but he knew that I knew her too.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure he would have said something.” Pam Applegate had borrowed money to keep her farm afloat and then needed it to ease her pain and offer her some comfort while she was dying. Or maybe she’d thought she could be cured. He didn’t know. Still, it wasn’t quite the same as mismanaging money and needing a bailout.

  “He had to have known she died. I wonder why he didn’t tell me then?”

  “Her daughter kept paying the loan as scheduled. He probably didn’t realize it for quite some time. You know Dad—always too busy to know whether he was coming or going.”

  “Yes, you’re right. He may have only found out about Pam when he got sick and started writing his bequests. If he wouldn’t tell me he was dying, he certainly wasn’t going to tell me about anyone else’s death at that point.”

  “That sounds about right.” Max tried not to feel a pinch of anger at the thought of his dad moving to the Bahamas and telling no one he was ill—but it didn’t quite work. He was still pissed that no one had known. That Dad had chosen to spend the past few weeks of his life alone.

  He could hear Aunt Claire fiddling with the beads around her neck, and he knew she was thinking about something. “Your father left you the farm because he thought it would do something for you. I don’t know what. It’s clear he left the gifts he did to you and your brothers for specific reasons. Only you can find that reason, Maxie.”

  He had to agree. The idea that Dad had randomly gifted him with a horse farm in Kentucky was no longer a possibility in his mind. Max had inherited Applegate Farm for what? To meet Ellie? That didn’t make sense, because Ellie and Dad had never met—besides, the idea of Dad playing matchmaker from the grave wasn’t quite right. Or not in his case anyway. In the case of Luke and Lizzie, where they’d had a past and clearly belonged together, Max could see it.

  So what else was there? Did Dad think he needed to learn about horses and patience? To discover that he liked spending time on a farm more than he’d ever thought possible? That there was life beyond fighting for his country?

  A shiver tripped down Max’s spine. He wasn’t the type to shiver or believe in fate or portents or anything else. But just thinking that thought, that Dad wanted him to discover a life beyond the Navy and the Special Ops world he lived in, affected him somewhere deep inside. Because until now, he hadn’t considered that Dad thought anything about what he did beyond being proud of him for it.

  If Dad was meddling in some way… Well, Max would make up his own mind about what was good for him. Max determined his future, not his father—and not from beyond the grave.

  “Thanks, Aunt Claire. Give my love to Laurel and Hannah,” he added. He hadn’t talked to his cousins in forever, but he thought of them fondly.

  “I will, honey. And you tell Mary Lou I still remember her derby pie with great fondness the next time you see her. Have her make you a Kentucky hot brown sometime, if you haven’t already.”

  He didn’t even know what that was. He’d probably seen it on the menu but hadn’t read the description. “Not yet, but I will.”

  “All right. Bye, sweetie.”

  He walked out of the bedroom and into the living room. The ceilings were tall and the furniture was old, but there were built-ins and a fireplace. He could see the room stripped of furnishings and repainted, could see the new life it could have. Cozy nights by the fireplace with Ellie…

  Max shivered again as he headed out of the room and went to stand outside on the front porch. It was wide and long and could hold outdoor furniture for sitting and sipping drinks.

  Jesus, what the hell? Max got out his keys and stood there, flipping them around his fingers until he heard the door open.

  “Sorry,” Ellie said as she locked up. “Lacey called and I had to take it.”

  His protective instincts went into overdrive. “Everything okay? Brice didn’t harass her, did he?”

  “Oh no, she’s fine. But I wanted to make sure, so I had to answer.”

  “Understood.”

  Ellie smiled, and his world tipped on its axis. No, this is not happening. You like her, and that’s all.

  “You still taking me to Malone’s?”

  “If that’s where you want to go.”

  “Then let’s get moving. I’m starved!”

  The nervousness Ellie had felt around Max earlier in the barn had disappeared when he’d emerged from the shower clad in a towel and taken her in his arms. All through the time they’d spent exploring each other, making each other crazy, and then losing themselves in the sweetness of release, she hadn’t felt an ounce of nerves.

  But ever since she’d walked out on the porch and found him waiting for her, she was back into jumpy territory. They’d taken his truck, and she’d pointed out farms along the way. She got a kick out of h
is reaction to the Castle Post Hotel on the way to Lexington. Most people had a hard time believing there was a medieval castle on a hill in Kentucky, but there it was, complete with stone walls and towers and a central “keep” that housed the hotel.

  They continued on their way, past the airport and Keeneland, and sat down in Malone’s a good twenty minutes later. Malone’s was popular and crowded, but they got a booth at the back and Ellie ordered her steak along with the bottomless Lexingtonian salad and the mac and cheese. Max ordered a steak too. He seemed a little reserved, and that only made her more nervous. He hadn’t been reserved when he’d had his mouth and hands all over her earlier.

  Finally, when they’d been served their salads and bread and the conversation was sputtering along, she decided she’d had enough. Her nerves were stretched thin anyway, so she went for broke. “What’s the matter, Max?”

  Because she didn’t like being on edge, and she wasn’t going to let him do that to her.

  He frowned as he looked up from his salad. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

  She spread her hands, palms up. “You aren’t exactly chatty tonight.”

  “I’m never chatty.”

  “Fine. You aren’t chatty. But you do hold up your end of the conversation. You aren’t doing that.”

  He toyed with his knife. “I’m sorry. My aunt called before we left. I’ve been thinking about some things she said.”

  That gave her pause. “I hope nothing’s wrong at home.”

  “No, everything’s fine. She didn’t know your mother had died, by the way. She sends her condolences.”

  Ellie’s throat was tight. “Thank you.”

  He put down his fork and knife. “I don’t know why my dad left me your farm, Ellie. I think—on some level I think he was trying to direct my choices in life. But he can’t do that. He can’t change who I am or what’s important to me by giving me something I know nothing about.”

  Ellie tried to smile. “You know more now than you did a week ago.”

  “I do… but it’s not me, Ellie. Horses, the farm, living a quiet life in Kentucky—it’s not me. It’s not who I am or what I do.”