“I’ll not leave you to that mob alone, Grace,” he said, his voice pitched low in warning.
“Oh. Okay.”
Max sighed and closed the distance between them, running his knuckles gently down her cheek. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snarl, love. I just want to make sure you’re safe. Okay?”
She nodded, unable to respond.
Max cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead. “I will make this up to you.”
“It’s okay, Max. You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” He smiled and linked his fingers with hers. “In fact, why don’t you come with us to Alaska on Friday?”
Grace let out a nervous giggle. “I can’t just up and go to Alaska.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I need to find a job and…well, that’s pretty much it, actually.”
“I think you can take a week off to have some fun, don’t you?” he challenged.
“Isn’t there a general band rule about no women on tour or something like that?”
“If there is, it’s not one we follow. Our keyboardist brings his entire family most of the time, including his dog.” He kissed her palm. “Will you think about it?”
Before she could answer, the door opened and closed with force. A tall man with dark hair and pale skin nodded in greeting and smiled at Grace. “We don’t have much time, sir.”
“Grace, this is Connor,” Max said. “Where’s Fergus?”
“Working with the coppers to control the crowd,” Connor answered.
Max released Grace’s hand, retrieved her coat, and helped her into it. “Ready?”
Grace shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“Just stay beside me and we’ll take care of the rest.”
Grace bit her lip, but nodded. Max grabbed his coat and donned sunglasses. He wrapped an arm around Grace’s waist and gripped his outerwear in his other hand. He nodded to Connor, who pulled open the door and preceded the couple out of the room.
Grace wasn’t entirely prepared for the next three minutes. Deafening screams sounded around her and then darkness as Max threw his coat over her face, hiding her from the blinding flash of the cameras. She gripped his waist as their bodies moved as one. She had no idea where they were going, but trusted he’d keep her safe.
No one spoke—not that they could have held a conversation had they wanted to. The din of the crowd was out of control. Before she knew it, the coat was removed and Max was smoothing her hair away from her face. “You okay?”
She nodded and took a deep breath. “Does that happen everywhere you go?”
He frowned. “No, not everywhere. But in the States, it’s a little out of control. It never used to bother me. It does now.”
They were in the elevator but they weren’t moving. Connor was on the phone and he didn’t look happy. “Bloody hell.” He glanced at Grace and frowned. “Sorry ma’am.”
“It’s okay,” she said.
“What?” Max snapped.
“They’ve blocked the garage. No way out.” Connor slipped his phone back into his pocket. “We’re going to have to wait for the police to clear the way.”
Grace could feel her throat tighten in panic. “Is the elevator broken?”
Max shook his head. “No, why?”
“Why isn’t it moving?”
“We have it paused for the moment, ma’am,” Connor explained.
“Are you okay?” Max asked, in concern.
She shook her head as she took several short breaths. “I have trouble with small spaces.”
Max reached for her hand and held it to his chest. “Look at me,” he said. Grace did as he instructed and he smiled. “Take a deep breath.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“You’ll hyperventilate, love. Deep breath.”
She shook her head.
“You can do it.” He lifted her chin. “Deep breath.”
She managed one and then another, and her heart calmed as her lungs seemed to open up. Relief flooded her body and she sagged against Max.
“Better?” he asked, his arm snaking around her waist, pulling her close.
“Much. Thank you.”
He kissed her temple and stroked her back. It wasn’t long before the bodyguard hit the elevator button and it moved, arriving at the parking garage…albeit, much slower than Grace would have liked. Connor exited first and then waved the couple out into the elevator bay.
Grace recognized Bruce standing at the limo, holding the back door open as she was ushered into the backseat with Max following. She secured her seatbelt as Max answered his phone. “Yes, Fergus. Aye. No, probably not a good idea. I don’t want to lead anyone back to her home.” He glanced at Grace. “I’ll ask her. No. I don’t think so. You did? What did he say?” Max frowned as he rubbed his forehead. “Shite. Inform him that this isn’t an incident I’ll so easily forget. I was ensured discretion. Aye. Take care of it.” He hung up and faced Grace. “How would you feel about spending a little more time with me?”
“Why? What’s going on?”
He stared at her for several tense seconds. “One of the staff at the restaurant posted on Facebook that I was here. The police are concerned that if people see the limo, there’ll be a mob situation. Kenna’s organizing a different car to pick us up, but we’re going to need to hang out here for a bit.”
“I have a better idea,” she said, and pulled out her phone.
He picked up on the first ring. “Voodoo.”
“Nate?”
“Speaking,” he said.
“Hey, it’s Grace.”
“Hey, stranger. How are you?” Nate asked.
“I’m good.” She glanced at Max. “I just have a little problem, and I’m wondering if you can help me.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Well, I’m at Big Pink with a friend, and we can’t get out of the parking lot without some help. I was wondering if you’d be able to come get me and let me hide at the store until Max can come get me.”
Nate laughed. “Holy crap, Grace. Are you with one of those Fallen Crown guys?”
“Ah, maybe.”
“Awesome. We’ve got a line around the block because people can’t get past the barricades. Good for business, bad for the fans.”
“Can you help me?”
“Yeah, I’ll come get you,” he said, “but he’ll owe us.”
Grace smiled at Max. “He’ll do anything you want him to do.”
Nate laughed. “Ooh, I’ll hold you to it. Okay, give me five minutes.”
“Thanks.” Grace hung up and grinned.
“Who’s Nate?” Max asked.
“He’s a friend from school,” she said.
“Just a friend?”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Yes. Most definitely. Not my type.”
“But are you his?”
“Max,” she said with a groan. “What does it matter?”
Before he could answer, the rev of an engine echoed near the parking garage. “Gertie’s here,” Grace said.
“Gertie?”
“Nate’s car. It’s a 1979 Camaro that he’s lovingly restored. His father gave it to him when he was sixteen. It sounds like a clunker, but it works better than new and has a very efficient heater.” Grace shivered, the temperature in the limo a little colder than she would have liked. Her phone buzzed and Nate’s name popped up on the screen. “Hey, Nate. I hear Gertie.”
“Yeah, I can’t actually get into the garage,” Nate said. “It’s blocked by the cops.”
“Crap, okay. Hang on.”
She knocked on the privacy glass. It lowered, and Bruce smiled at her in the rearview mirror. “Yes, miss.”
“Can you ask the police to let my friend in, please? He’s in the Camaro.”
Bruce glanced at Max, received his approving nod, and climbed out of the car.
“Max’s driver’s checking, Nate. Just a second.”
“No problem,” Nate said.
Minutes
passed and then Bruce returned. “There’s no way in, ma’am.”
“Nate? They can’t move the block,” Grace said.
“Okay, can you get to Oak?”
“I think so,” Grace said.
“I’ll drive around and wait for you there, does that work?”
“Yep,” she said. “See you in a bit.”
She hung up and faced Max. “Nate can’t get into the garage, so he’s going to meet me one street over.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“That would not be a good idea, sir,” Bruce said. “I’ll walk her.”
Max scowled, but gave a curt nod.
Bruce exited the car and pulled open Grace’s door. “Are you ready, ma’am?”
“Sure. Thanks.” Grace took his hand, grateful for the help as she slid from the car.
Max followed, taking her hand and kissing her palm. “Bruce will pick you up from Nate’s shop and take you home shortly.”
“Nate can take me home,” Grace said.
“I’d rather Bruce take you.”
“No, it’s fine.”
Max frowned. “Grace, I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I’ll call you in ten minutes.”
She tugged her hand away. “Don’t bother, Max. Really, this isn’t going to work. Let’s just call it before we get too deep in.”
She walked with Bruce toward the garage exit. Just before they turned the corner, she glanced back and let out a quiet gasp as Max punched the limo, sliding the car sideways. She shook her head, sure she hadn’t actually seen what she thought she did. No one was that strong.
“He’ll calm down, ma’am,” Bruce reassured her.
Grace nodded. When she caught sight of the Camaro, she sped up, and smiled when Nate climbed out and opened her door.
“Thanks, Bruce,” she said.
“Ma’am,” he said, and tipped his hat.
Grace hugged Nate before jumping into the sports car as gracefully as she could. Bruce waited on the sidewalk as Nate drove away, and Grace waved, both relieved and surprisingly disappointed that she would never see Max again.
* * *
Max paced the garage, his hands on his head, seething in silence as he waited for Bruce to return. He didn’t appreciate how long it was taking and punched the car again, bending the metal with the force.
“Sir, ruining the car isn’t going to help,” Bruce warned, as he approached.
“Damn it!” Max snapped dragging his hands down his face.
“If you’d walked into the mob, Miss Wilson could have been hurt. And if you’d gotten in that car, you wouldn’t be any good to her. You know humans don’t handle the cold. It would have been far too warm.”
“Haud yer wheesht!” Max hissed. “No need to drive it home. Damn it!”
Bruce’s phone buzzed and he answered it. “Bruce here. Hello, Miss Wilson. No, I don’t think that would be a good idea. I should collect you.” He sighed. “If you’re already on your way, I suppose I can’t object. Aye. It was nice to meet you too. Good night.”
“What?” Max demanded.
“Her friend is taking her home.”
Max cursed. “I want out of this bloody garage, Bruce. If I have to run over the bastards blocking the way, then I bloody well will.”
“Very well. Hop in. We’ll go slow.”
Max stamped down his irritation as Bruce guided the limo from the garage. He had to admit, the Portland Police Department was satisfyingly efficient when it came to crowd control. Bruce managed to exit and maneuver onto the street without hitting anyone.
“Take me to Grace’s,” Max demanded.
Bruce caught his eye in the rearview mirror and frowned.
Max scowled. “Problem, Bruce?”
“No sir.”
“Eyes on the road, then.”
“Yes sir.”
Max rubbed his forehead, a headache rapidly approaching, and stared out the window. The sun was setting over the Willamette, but he was too preoccupied to appreciate the view. Nothing was going quite as planned, and he was at a loss as to how to fix it.
“Bruce?”
“Aye, sir?”
“What happened to all the food?”
“It’s in the boot. The manager boxed it up for us and delivered it to me before you came downstairs.”
Max nodded. “Excellent.”
Twenty minutes later, Bruce pulled off exit seven into Salmon Creek, and Max’s heart began to beat just a little faster. He’d just seen Grace half an hour ago, but he couldn’t wait to see her again. His phone buzzed and Niall’s number popped up on the screen.
“Hey, brother.”
“Holy shite, Max,” Niall complained. “None of us can leave our rooms. What did you do?”
“One of the wait staff at the restaurant posted my visit to her restaurant on Facebook.” Max sighed. “She’s been dealt with, but we never even got to the full meal.”
“Where are you now?”
“On my way to Grace’s place.”
“How is she?” Niall asked.
“I think she’s fine.”
“What do you mean? Isn’t she with you?”
“No,” Max admitted. “She got a ride home with a friend.”
“Does she know you’re following her?”
Max sighed. “No.”
“Well, just go slow,” Niall suggested. “Don’t frighten her.”
“I know, Nye,” he ground out.
His brother chuckled. “Sorry. Ring me when you’re on your way back.”
“Maybe. ’Bye.” Max hung up and glanced outside. He hadn’t notice they’d stopped.
Bruce leaned over the front seat. “We’re here, sir.”
Max nodded and waited for Bruce to open his door. As he climbed out of the car, all Max could think about was how perfectly American the house appeared. All neat and tidy in the front, the flower garden similar to all the neighbors’ flower gardens. The Camaro was still in the driveway, which didn’t sit well with him, but he was determined not to overreact.
“Wait here,” Max said to Bruce, and headed toward the house. He rang the doorbell and slipped his hands into his pockets.
The door opened and a woman who appeared to be a forties version of Grace opened the door. “Can I help you?”
“Yes ma’am. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if Grace is available.”
“And you are?”
“Maximilian MacMillan, ma’am.”
She smiled and reached out her hand. “So you’re the famous Max my husband and I have been hearing about. I’m Lila, Grace’s mom.”
Max shook her hand. “Lovely to meet you.”
“You too,” Lila said. “Will you come in?”
He stalled. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he could. He had to know what the temperature in the house was, but before he could ask, Grace appeared in the foyer with Nate. Jealousy rose but Max forced it down. She had donned a ratty cardigan, but she still wore the dress that stole his breath—and now she was barefoot, which did something entirely different to him. The desire to bind her flooded his soul, and he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.
“Max?” Grace’s voice held an air of confusion. “What are you doing here?”
He opened his eyes and forced a smile. “I have a boot full of food that I won’t be able to eat by myself, so I thought I’d drop it off.”
“Oh, the food!” Her eyes widened and she smiled. “I completely forgot.”
Max gave Bruce a subtle wave and the man opened the boot and gathered the packages, carrying them to the front door.
“Sorry, folks, I need to head back to the store,” Nate said.
Grace seemed to be surprised to hear the young man’s voice…as though she’d forgotten he was there. Max smiled to himself. Grace wasn’t interested in Nate. He could relax.
“Thanks, Nate,” Grace said. “I really appreciate it.”
Nate kissed her cheek and Max fisted his hands at his sides, willing himself not to r
eact to the reappearance of his jealousy. Nate stepped outside, reaching out to shake Max’s hand. Max locked eyes with him. “Say nothing,” he whispered.
Bound by Song (Cauld Ane Series) Page 8