True Connections

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True Connections Page 5

by Clarissa Yip


  “My little matchmaker here is going to help us find Max a date to the party. Maybe if your kids are coming with you, she can help them, too.” Nanna smiled. The pride blazing in her eyes formed a lump in Lia’s throat. “And she never disappoints me.”

  “Nanna, I really have to go. I have so much work to do, and details to finish for the social tomorrow night.”

  Her grandmother frowned.

  “I’ll see you soon. And I promised to help you with the frames and decorations for the party.” Lia kissed her nanna’s cheek, then said to Henry, “It was nice to meet you.”

  Henry stood, warmth shining from his gray eyes. “I’m glad to meet you, too, sweetie. You’re as beautiful as your mother.”

  “Thank you.” Holding out her hand for a shake, she said, “I’m sure I’ll see you around, Henry.”

  “You bet.”

  Instead of taking her palm, the man drew her in for a hug. Lia stilled as he patted her back, then released her.

  “Don’t be a stranger. I’d love to introduce you to my son. You’ll like him. He’s your age, maybe a year or two older. He’s an electrician. He actually worked on some stuff for Dina at her store. That’s how I met your mother.” Throwing a fond look past her shoulder, Henry grinned. Lia didn’t have to turn around to know Dina stood behind her.

  “Sure. Good-bye.” She flew past her mother, grabbed her jacket from the coat rack, and strode out the door.

  Once in her car, Lia started the engine and maneuvered the vehicle down the long driveway onto the quiet road, her emotions churning chaotically in her chest. Tears blurred her vision but she blinked them away. A laugh rumbled up her throat.

  Seeing her mother’s happiness and having Dina reach out to her tampered with the walls she’d built around her heart, throwing her into the unknown. As a child she’d lived for her mother’s attention, doing everything she could to get noticed. But over the years, she’d accepted she would never be the daughter Dina wanted.

  She reached into her briefcase and pulled out the gold-enameled ivory cardstock. The wedding invitation represented another failure. She’d thought she could return home and forget everything—but being here, in Grant, only reminded her what she’d run from the first time.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she took out her phone from her pocket. Before she could dial, Max’s name appeared on the screen.

  Her heart skipped. With a shaky hand, she pressed the speakerphone button.

  “Hello?”

  “Lia, number three didn’t show.”

  The anger in his tone added to the tension already taking over her body. She cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’ll—”

  “No. I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s over.”

  …

  Lia paced. Frustration tore through her with each step she pounded into the green carpet of her newly renovated apartment. She’d never asked for this—never asked to be involved with finding Max a date. All she’d wanted was to walk away from everyone, return to Grant, and just focus on her work. She had nothing left.

  She recalled the proud look her nanna had given when she praised her in front of Henry. If she failed at this, failed in finding Max a date, her nanna and Carol might decide she wasn’t worthy either.

  She fell to the couch and dropped her head into her hands, but at the sound of the doorbell, she shot out of her seat and rushed to the door. Standing on tiptoe, she stared through the peephole. Max’s face was magnified through the glass, irritation marring his features.

  She couldn’t deal with any more. First Mindy’s phone call, then dinner with Henry and Dina, along with her mother’s sudden need to change things between them. And now Max ready to bail on her? She banged her forehead against the wood panel.

  “Open the door, Lia.”

  “Go away.”

  “I’m not leaving, so you might as well get this over with.”

  With a grunt, she swung the door open and glared. “What do you want?”

  He strode past her into her living room. Looking around, he surveyed the area. The apartment was small and slightly bare since she’d only been home for two months, but she had everything she needed. Max’s expression held amusement.

  “Don’t judge my home. Now say what you want and get out.”

  His eyes trailed over her from head to toe. Nervous flutters wracked her stomach. She crossed her arms over her breasts.

  “This isn’t home. More like living space. There’s hardly anything in here but furniture. Where’s all your stuff?” Max asked.

  Still boxed up. What if I have to leave again?

  She ignored him and closed the door, then moved to the living room and sat down, pulling her blanket over her bare legs. She’d taken a shower, hoping she could wash off the events of the day, and changed into a flannel nightshirt, but the thin thermal offered no protection from his intense gaze.

  “I wasn’t expecting company,” she said.

  He plopped down next to her. “Do you have something to say to me?”

  Licking her lips, she kept her eyes on the flat screen. Although a Swiffer commercial played, she wasn’t aware of anything but the man next to her. His musky cologne teased her nose, and all she wanted to do was curl up into his side and tell him to fix everything—like he had when he’d saved her from that jerk at the party. Or when she’d glued Styrofoam balls onto his high school football letterman jacket and her mother had berated her. Max had only laughed it off and helped her with her eighth grade solar system project. Or the time he’d taken the blame for her pushing him off the cruise ship. He’d lied to their grandmothers and said he’d fallen off. She’d been surprised, but her pride kept her from softening toward him.

  Exhaustion wrapped around her. How much more could she take today? “What am I supposed to say?”

  One second Lia was watching TV; the next Max blocked her line of sight. She gasped when he braced his hands to the couch on either side of her head, arms caging her. His legs trapped her against the cushions, and his lips were barely two inches from hers. She almost went cross-eyed staring at the bridge of his nose.

  “Lia, I warned you not to play games.”

  She swallowed hard; her palms pressed against his chest, his hard muscles. She felt hot. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “She didn’t show up.”

  Lia tilted her head as far back as she could. “I told you I’ll fix it tomorrow.”

  “I don’t want you to fix it. It’s over. Everyone knows I enlisted in your dating ser—”

  “Matchmaking,” she corrected, but at Max’s fierce glare, she clamped her mouth shut.

  “Just pick someone and I’ll bring her to the party.”

  “You can’t just pick anyone. She has to be…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze fell to his lips. The memory of their kisses scorched her. Max pressed in closer and her breath hitched. A tingle of fear and excitement ran down her spine. “Can you get off me so we can talk about this like two rational adults?”

  “The whole town is laughing at me. I run businesses here. This stunt is making me look bad.”

  She frowned. “And your reputation is more important than making your family happy?”

  Guilt marred his features. He fell to the cushion next to her and ran a hand through his hair. “No.”

  Lia sat up. “So, she stood you up. That’s just one less woman you have to deal with. We have plenty of time to find someone before the Valentine’s party.”

  Max jerked his head toward her and glared. “Oh, hell no. We’re not going through this again.”

  “It’s just a one more luncheon and a couple more dates. I’m sure we’ll find you someone suitable.”

  Lia swung her legs to the side and tugged at the hem of her nightshirt. It suddenly seemed short when Max’s eyes followed her movements.

  She gulped. “How did the two other dates go?”

  He leaned back. “How do you think? One started planning how many kids we would have in the future
, and the other was trying to sell me the house she envisioned us living in already.”

  Lia bit her lip to hide her laugh. “That’s a shame. I’ll go through the lists again. There has to be someone who…” …is perfect for you. She couldn’t finish the sentence out loud.

  Max grunted. “Like I said, just pick someone and I’ll bring them.”

  “You can’t just pick anyone. If that were the case then you might as well just open your little black book and call up one of your—” She stopped when Max shot up off the couch and strode to the kitchen. She appraised the perfect fit of his jacket and width of his back. A sigh slipped past her lips as her gaze landed on the stretch of his dress pants over his tight butt. She was becoming a pervert, a lecher—over the enemy. She waited for the earlier panic to wreak havoc on her nerves, but felt nothing. The panic had evaporated. From Max’s presence?

  What was wrong with her?

  Max found a bottle of chardonnay and a pint of rocky road ice cream. He searched the cupboards and poured himself a glass of wine. With one gulp, the contents disappeared before he refilled the glass again.

  “Help yourself. Make yourself at home,” she muttered.

  “I will.” He raised the glass and poured himself some more, then brought the bottle and ice cream over to the living room area and sat down. “Don’t you have anything stronger?”

  “Nope. I don’t drink much.” She fiddled with the hem of her nightshirt. Max held the wine toward her, and she shook her head. She reached for the ice cream instead. He picked up the remote control and flipped through the channels until he stopped on a soccer game, then leaned against the cushions, wine glass in one hand and arm stretched out across the back of the couch.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He flicked a glance at her before returning his gaze to the television. “Watching the game.”

  “Why?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  “To do what?”

  “To come up with a solution.”

  She frowned. “I told you. I’ll find you someone.”

  “Yes, and I told you that we need a better plan. Remember the last time we disappointed them? Nanna lay in bed sick for a week. Do you want that again?”

  Her grandmother was a diva, but Max’s wasn’t much better. No wonder they were best friends. She needed someone their grandmothers would approve of. And the only person they’d been scheming for Max to hook up with was…her.

  But wouldn’t it seem weird if she and Max suddenly developed a liking for each other? She studied the lean contours of his face, the strong jut of his jaw. Her eyes raked over his broad chest to his stomach. She didn’t allow herself to go past his belt. And her heart raced.

  “What if…?”

  Max took the spoon from her and scooped up a bite from the pint. “Yeah?”

  She drew in a deep breath as he licked the spoon clean. An image flashed through her mind, of herself stretched out covered in chocolate while he ran his tongue over her body. She shook her head when she caught his intense stare.

  “What if…what if we used each other?” There. She said it. “We can make a pact.”

  His eyebrow lifted, his gaze trailing over her from head to toe. She tugged at the hem of her nightshirt again. Max set the glass on the table and moved closer to her.

  “What were you thinking?”

  She pressed a hand against his chest and halted him. “Stop it.”

  He grinned—the charming grin he gave all the ladies he planned to seduce.

  “Don’t,” she warned.

  “Don’t what?” he asked innocently.

  “You know what I’m talking about. Your charms don’t work on me.”

  His finger trailed up her thigh. “What’s the plan?”

  She swatted his hand away and cleared her throat, giving him another push. “What if you brought me to the party so we looked like an item or something? Then maybe a few days after, we’ll tell them it didn’t work out between us.”

  He frowned. “They’ll see through us.”

  “Well, then you better learn to pretend to like me for a few weeks.”

  “We’ve tried that a few times, and I’m the one that ends up on the floor or in some big body of water. Or in the hospital. Remember the black eye I had for weeks?”

  “Hey, it wasn’t my fault you turned around at the wrong time.” He’d been flirting with one of Lia’s lacrosse teammates and hadn’t seen the ball she’d thrown their way. She’d been aiming for his lower calf but the ball had struck him in the eye instead. She’d been carted to the hospital with him, but at least her team had won the game.

  His eyebrow rose. “I had to get stitches for the first time in my life.”

  She found her first smile. “You know, I don’t remember,” she said smoothly. “But for our grandmothers’ benefit, if you pretend—”

  He moved quickly, once again trapping her against the corner of the couch. Air rushed out of her lungs at his quickness. “Why would I need to pretend?”

  She gulped. “Please. You know we don’t get along.”

  Max pressed into her. One hand lowered, adjusting her legs until she lay completely under him. His hardness nudged her stomach and she gasped. He leaned in, his mouth brushing against her cheek. “I like you. Sometimes.” He lowered his voice. “Remember that kiss at the luncheon?”

  Her body tightened. An ache coiled in her stomach. “No.”

  He chuckled before grazing his lips against hers. “Yes, you do. Don’t lie.”

  She wedged her arms out from under him, slid her hands around his neck, and stifled a moan as he rubbed against her breasts. Her hips lifted involuntarily toward his erection, wanting to get closer. He nibbled on her lower lip.

  “You know you want me as much as I want you, Lia.”

  She stiffened. Desire ran through her. Since she’d approached him at the construction site, he’d given her one surprise after another. But he wasn’t so unpredictable that she didn’t know which strings to pull to get what she wanted. That’s because you want him, too. Why do you continue to deny it? “You’re insane.”

  “If you say so,” he muttered then covered her mouth completely. She kissed him back, her hold tightening around him. Her legs parted to allow him to move closer. She tasted a mix of wine and coffee. His masculine scent of soap and musk teased her senses. His hand trailed up her bare leg to her bottom and pulled her tighter against his erection. She let out a whimper, wishing the barriers between them were gone.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex. It seemed so long ago. She couldn’t even recall her ex-boyfriend at the moment, much less what her own name was. Pleasure scorched through her as Max nibbled along her jaw to her neck. She tilted her head to the side to give him better access. He slid his hand under the hem of her shirt, gliding over her leg to her stomach. A draft of cool air brushed over her skin, but her back arched the moment his palm closed over her breast. Heat encompassed her whole being. His thumb flicked at her nipple, and she threaded her fingers through his hair, bringing him closer, urging him to her breasts. Max gave her a smoldering glance before he lowered his mouth to her nipple. Her hips lifted, rocking against him at the feel of his tongue on her skin. She needed this. Needed his touch.

  Needed Maxwell Sheraton.

  “Lia,” he murmured.

  Images of being in his arms then seeing him with Lindsay Forks washed over her. Never again would she fall into that trap. Wedging her hands against his shoulders, she shoved. He didn’t budge.

  Max lifted a little and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Get off,” she ordered. “Now.”

  Chapter Six

  With a frustrated groan, Max sat back on his side of the couch.

  Lia quickly scrambled up and pulled the blanket to herself. “We can’t do this.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair, shifting in his seat. “Do what? Have sex?”

  “Yes. Have sex. I don’t want to compli
cate things.”

  “Too late.” He glared. She had no idea how she’d complicated his life. Practically since she was born. He closed his eyes, waiting for the throbbing in his groin to subside. The feel of her skin, the weight of her breast in his palm… He blew out another breath.

  Lia pursed her lips, her brow furrowing before she answered. “You know what I mean.”

  With a sigh, he leaned back, tugged her to his side, and curled an arm around her. She felt so right against him. She stiffened at first, but relaxed.

  “So, tell me more about this plan of yours,” Max said.

  “I don’t know. We should still try to see if there are any other candidates that interest you, but if worst comes to worst, we’ll just pretend to give them what they’ve always wanted. I can’t disappoint them.”

  Her eyes were downcast, and tension radiated from her. There was no need to find another candidate. He knew who he wanted to bring to the party. But how could he tell her he’d always wanted her? And this time he wouldn’t run away, scared.

  He thought about all the years they’d wasted apart, and the image of her leaving with that jackass to go to the city. His hands balled into fists and he pulled her closer. He needed to bide his time. Lia disappeared whenever confrontation threatened. “We only have one week until the party.”

  Lia toyed with the button of his shirt. The heat of her palm seeped through the cotton, and he wished she’d slip her hand lower. “We’ll see after the social tomorrow night. If we don’t find you anyone there, we’ll decide after that.”

  He pressed his lips into a firm line. He didn’t want anyone else, but she wasn’t going to let him past her defenses without a fight. “Okay. Fine. I can do that. If I don’t find anyone at the social tomorrow night then we’ll ‘use each other,’ as you said.”

  She lifted her head off his shoulder. “That’s just an alternative. Of course, if you find someone tomorrow night, then we don’t have to worry. I…just don’t want—” she let out a frustrated sigh “—Nanna and Carol to think we’ve failed them. It’s not like they’re asking that much of us, right?”

 

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