Dare to Love (Maxwell #3)

Home > Romance > Dare to Love (Maxwell #3) > Page 16
Dare to Love (Maxwell #3) Page 16

by S. B. Alexander


  “May I take your coat?” he asked.

  I swallowed again as I took off my jacket and handed it to him.

  “Please have a seat.” He left the room for a mere second, returning empty-handed.

  “Elizabeth.” Mrs. Maxwell patted the cushion on her left. “Please sit with me.”

  I glanced at Kelton, who was mesmerized by my breasts or something on my blouse. Surely he wasn’t pulling one of his playboy stunts in the company of his parents. I brought my hand to my chest, praying my scoop neck blouse wasn’t betraying me, showing my cleavage. Then I realized my half-heart chain wasn’t tucked away. I wore it on a long necklace so it wouldn’t be visible no matter what I was wearing. Not that I was embarrassed by it. Over the years my friends had teased me for the cheesy charm. I’d always argued it wasn’t tacky, not to me. This piece of jewelry had been my rosary. I wasn’t Catholic, but my grandmother on my dad’s side was. God rest her soul. She’d carried her rosary beads with her at all times.

  I inserted my necklace inside my blouse as I went to sit beside Mrs. Maxwell. Kelton had mentioned his mom had been in a mental health facility. I’d been expecting to see her distraught, not happy. It was stupid of me to stereotype.

  Kelton and his dad made themselves comfortable on the sofa across from us.

  “Thank you for inviting me,” I said.

  “It’s so good to see you.” Mrs. Maxwell’s voice was angelic. “You’re just as beautiful as ever. More now that you’re a young woman.”

  Kelton beamed with pride, as he always had when his mom complimented me. I was flattered but was reminded of my mom. I hadn’t come there to reminisce but to say my piece and, hopefully, move on.

  An awkward silence grew as all eyes were on me. I wanted to say thank you. I wanted to slide closer to her. I wanted to feel what it was like to have a woman who I’d considered a second mom at one time in my life put her arms around me, hold me, and tell me everything would be okay. Instead I fidgeted, pushing my back against the armrest, my tongue stuck in place.

  “Martin told me about the death of your parents and Gracie. I’m so, so sorry.” Mrs. Maxwell studied me like I was on display at the Miami Aquarium. Then tears pooled in her eyes. “My heart hurts for you.” Before I had a chance to flee, she embraced me, stroking my hair. “Can we do anything for you? Do you need a place to stay? We have plenty of room here.”

  I stiffened, not sure what to do. My mind said to let go of the twisted feelings tearing me up inside. My body had different plans. I darted my gaze to Kelton, pinching my eyebrows together so hard it hurt. His eyebrows were deep into his hairline. Of all the thoughts that had run through my head about how my conversation would go, her hospitality had never been on my list. Sure, I’d envisioned her compassion for my plight, but not a warm bed or a place to call home.

  She sat back.

  I managed to get my tongue working. “Thank you, but I do have a place to stay.”

  The fire crackled, spitting up little sparks. Or maybe it was my pulse jumping. I started to play with my earring as tears threatened.

  A delicate hand covered mine. “It’s okay. Say what’s on your mind. I’m not going to get upset.” She stole a reassuring look at her husband, who watched with a careful eye, seemingly ready to put out any fires. “I’ve thought long and hard about you and your family, especially Gracie, over the years. Honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to say Gracie’s name without pain searing my heart. It wasn’t her fault, Elizabeth. What happened was never her fault.” Her head moved back and forth ever so slightly.

  Kelton dropped his forearms to his knees, burying his face in his hands. Mr. Maxwell continued to watch Mrs. Maxwell and me.

  “Yeah, I know. But Gracie didn’t know that. She blamed herself.” Tears stung. Damn it. I had to be strong. I gave myself a mental shake then focused on Mr. Maxwell. “Why? Why didn’t you teach Karen gun safety?”

  Kelton jerked up, caution blanching his face.

  Mr. Maxwell scratched the back of his head. “I’ve been asking myself that question for the last seven years.” He gazed at the fire then back to me. “I wish I could change the past. Unfortunately I can’t. I take full responsibility for what happened that day.” Pain and suffering washed over his features and doused his tone. He stood and padded over to the fireplace. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. For that day. For Gracie. For your parents.” His voice shook.

  A tear ran down my cheek. I wished I could change the past too.

  Mrs. Maxwell rose gracefully. “It’s okay, Martin.” She reached up with dainty fingers to touch his unshaven jaw.

  He angled his chin down from his six-foot height, gazing at her like she was his everything. No doubt she was. Then he wrapped his arms around her. “I love you.” He said those three words as though he hadn’t said them in years.

  More tears poured out as I witnessed so much love between them. I was envious. I hated that I couldn’t see my parents embracing each other ever again. I wanted what Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell had—love, a family, someone who would love me back.

  In a flash, Kelton was on his feet, skirting the glass coffee table before taking his mom’s spot. Then he wiped a tear from my cheek with the tips of his fingers.

  I glanced up into cloudy blue eyes. We didn’t need to speak. We both hurt. His parents hurt. I didn’t want to feel the pain of death anymore. I just didn’t know how to make the suffering stop.

  “Can I have a minute alone with Elizabeth?” Mr. Maxwell asked.

  “I should get the table set,” Mrs. Maxwell said. “Kelton, can you help me?”

  “I won’t be far.” He kissed my head before following his mom.

  The fire danced, the shadows playing across Mr. Maxwell’s drawn features.

  “Thank you for saying all that,” I whispered. “I’ve been so angry with you.”

  He scraped a hand along his chin as he came to sit down next to me. “There are so many things I replay in my head about Karen. She always wanted to be like the boys. I know you won’t understand this until you have children, but she was my little princess. I couldn’t bring myself to see her with a gun. I know it doesn’t make up for anyone’s loss.” He grasped my hands. “We want to help you in any way we can. Mrs. Maxwell and I always adored you and Gracie. We considered you family. We still do.” Immense pain weaved through his tone.

  I lowered my gaze to our joined hands, my anger slowly dissipating. A tear dropped, splashing on his fingers. “It was an accident.” Even if he had taught Karen gun safety, Gracie still might have shot Karen. “Mrs. Maxwell seems to be taking the news of Gracie’s death and that of my parents well.” I’d expected her to react a bit differently considering everything she’d been through.

  “She surprised me too when I broke the news to her. Again, I’m sorry.” He scooted closer and hugged me. I sucked up the strength in his arms much like I had with my father when I’d needed a shoulder to cry on. At that thought, I wept. I missed my mom, dad, and Gracie. I tried not to feel sorry for myself. I tried to think of all the good times, but death had a way of overshadowing all that was good in my life. I cried harder when he tightened his hold. Hopefully Dillon was right. Maybe now I could see a future that included the black-haired, blue-eyed cockroach. Provided Kelton wanted me.

  17

  Kelton

  I sat at the bar at Rumors, sipping water, wishing it were a strong bourbon or whiskey from one of the bottles in Kade’s hands. He was stocking the shelves as I waited for Lizzie and Zach. I’d had every intention of taking Lizzie for a walk the night before down by the lake. I’d planned to spend time with her, making out as if we were teenagers again. But when I’d seen that half-heart charm on her neck, that sweltering day she’d moved away had come soaring back, along with the pain and heartbreak. Sure, it wasn’t her fault that she’d moved. To a certain extent, I even understood her reasons for not wanting to stay in touch. Both of our families had been through something far worse than hell. She’d kept asking me all through dinn
er if I was all right. All I did was nod. In fact, I’d been quiet as everyone had chatted and gotten to know Lizzie again. Even after dinner I hadn’t been in a festive mood.

  My dad, on the other hand, had been quite relaxed. After he’d had a one-on-one conversation with Lizzie, he’d been a new man. Over dessert, he and Lizzie had talked excitedly about school and her intentions for a degree in marine biology. She’d had him smiling rather than bracing for a sonic bomb to go off. Prior to Lizzie showing up, he’d been wound as tight as us boys, anticipating Mom’s reaction to Lizzie. But even Mom was chatting up Lizzie as though the past was a blur. Once she went as far as tucking Lizzie’s hair behind her ear, much as she had when Lizzie was a little girl. Deep down I suspected Lizzie reminded Mom of the good old days, and that alone put a smile on her face.

  Knuckles rapped on the bar, snapping me out of the turmoil I was in.

  “Mom handled the deaths of the Reardons really well,” Kade said. “I talked to Dad earlier. He mentioned Mom couldn’t stop talking about Lizzie. She hopes to see her again soon.”

  All of us were pleasantly surprised at how Mom had handled Lizzie and the sad news of her family. When I was helping Mom set the table, she’d been concerned with me putting the fork in the right place rather than with hiding in her room depressed.

  What a night it had been. As we’d said goodbye to Dillon and Lizzie, Mom had offered again for Lizzie to live at the house. Then they’d hugged, both women crying. My knees had gone weak. Luckily Kody had been next to me. He’d put a hand on my shoulder, preventing me from collapsing. Yeah, I was one fucked-up dude. All I’d envisioned at that moment was how I wanted to hold and protect Lizzie. Oh, hell. I wanted more than that. I wanted to take her to my room, strip her naked, and have my way with her, and at the same time, I was deathly afraid of the pain that would come when she went back to Miami.

  “Do you want to talk about what’s bugging you before Zach and Lizzie get here?” Kade asked.

  I eyed the liquor then him. “How many times are you going to ask me that?”

  “As many times as it takes to get you to talk.” He tossed an empty box over the bar. It landed with a slight thud on top of the pile of other empty boxes.

  “I’m not ready. When I am, I’ll come find you.” I had no doubt he would give me great words of wisdom. He was just like our dad in that regard. “Have you thought about following in Dad’s footsteps as a psychiatrist?”

  He chuckled as he wiped his hands with a towel. “That means I’d have to go to school for years, and that’s not my cup of tea. Besides, I give advice every night to people here.”

  “Yeah, for free.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you to use that Mensa brain of yours? I listen. They tip me. I give advice. They tip me. I make good money.”

  “Then why sleep at the club? Get your own apartment.” I had no doubt Mr. Robinson was paying him well for managing Rumors, in addition to his tips.

  “I’m saving for a special occasion.”

  “Dare I ask? Is it the M word?”

  The buzzer to the backdoor rang. He grinned, reminding me of Donkey in Shrek as he left to open the door. I admired my brother so damn much. From day one he’d known Lacey was the girl for him. He’d known he would marry her someday. Their relationship hadn’t been all chocolate and roses either. Yet their love for each other never wavered. Why couldn’t I be like him? Instead of freaking the fuck out over emotional pain? Talk about a pussy. I was the king of that at the moment.

  Lizzie’s voice floated to my ears, subtle, smooth, and silky. My heartbeat sped up. I swiveled on the barstool when she breezed in. Her hair fell easily over one side of her chest. Hair that I wanted to smell, touch, and play with. Her cheeks and nose were red, from battling the high winds that day, I imagined. One look at her and my body hummed everywhere, wanting to devour her like a madman. I took in a quiet breath. Lizzie deserved to be touched with a feather, caressed with my fingers, and worshipped like she was the queen of the universe, not thrown against the wall to have my way with her, although the latter was certainly appealing.

  She sat on the stool next to me. “How were classes?”

  “I’ve been an ass.”

  Her face lit up. “That’s no surprise, but where did that come from?”

  I dragged her barstool closer to mine. “You ran from me the other day and didn’t give me a chance to say I was sorry.” I rested my forehead against hers. “First, when I asked you to dinner with my family, I was only thinking of my mom and not how you would feel seeing my parents again. And then I was a bigger jerk for practically ignoring you at dinner.” I fished her necklace out from her shirt and laid the half-heart charm in the palm of my hand, recalling how my world had shifted when she moved away. “I saw the charm and freaked. I mean, after all these years, you’re still wearing it.”

  “I’ve never taken it off,” she said as she pecked me on the lips.

  That fact made my brain fuzzy. But I wasn’t about to analyze the significance of it. Instead, I cupped her face in my hands and took control, kissing her greedily. She tasted like bubblegum and memories and home. When our tongues touched, my groin tightened. I broke away as I peppered kisses down her neck, absorbing jasmine and a hint of fruit. I was a second away from taking her into the bathroom when Zach’s voice shattered the mood. We both straightened like two teenagers caught by her father. She smoothed out her hair as I adjusted myself in my seat.

  Zach strutted in. His blond curls were wild on top of his head, his T-shirt was wrinkled, and he was wearing flip-flops in the dead of winter.

  “Hey, man,” he said as he ponied up to Lizzie and me.

  I pointed to his feet. “You know it’s thirty degrees outside?”

  We exchanged a quick handshake.

  “I hate driving in boots,” he said as he eyed Lizzie. “Who’s the beauty? You kind of look familiar. Do I know you?”

  Touch her and you die.

  “I’m the redhead you were supposed to tutor for Mr. Brewer. You know, the girl who was at your place when I found Chloe crying on your steps?” Her sarcasm was epic.

  The color drained from Zach’s face at the mention of Chloe’s name.

  I hadn’t spoken to him yet about why Chloe was even at the condo. We were there to talk about Lizzie’s problem, but I couldn’t help but ask, “Why was she crying at our place?” I hadn’t heard from Chloe since the night of the art gala. Which was unusual. We’d broken up before, and she’d always tracked me down. Maybe she was tired of hoping I would develop strong feelings for her.

  Kade came in and circled the bar.

  Zach’s jaw moved rapidly. “Wait. Why am I here?”

  “I’m sorry.” Lizzie extended her hand. “I’m Elizabeth Reardon. Your father stole all my inheritance. Tell me where he is.” Her tone and body language screamed don’t-fuck-with-me.

  I exchanged an I’m-impressed look with Kade. I was more than impressed. The tough but sweet girl I knew growing up was making my dick grow harder every time I saw the badass side of her.

  Zach whipped his head to me, surprise wiping away his confusion. “What is this? An intervention?”

  “We need your help,” I said. “And this might be your chance to help your old man.”

  Zach stalked to the stage at the far side of the room, smoothing his hands over his mop of hair as he went. Then he came back. “Let me get this straight,” he said to Lizzie. “You disguise yourself then come to my house hoping you can get information out of me on my old man? How do I know you don’t want to steal from him?” He turned to me. “You believe this girl? She must be a good lay or something.”

  I dove at him. Red colored my vision. It was so unlike Zach to be a jerk in front of a lady. My fist rammed into his jaw just before he threw an uppercut. My head snapped back. He’d sparred with Kross once, but the outcome hadn’t been good for Zach. He wasn’t a fighter, but I had to give him credit. He could protect himself when he had to.

  �
��Stop,” Kade said as he pulled me off of Zach.

  I wrenched out of Kade’s hold. “Not everything in life is about a good roll in the hay. And what’s up your ass?”

  Kade offered Zach a hand, but he declined as he got up and spewed, “Nothing.”

  Kade stretched out his arms between us. “Both of you calm down. Zach, Elizabeth is an old family friend. She needs your help. Hear her out. And, Kel. Cool your jets.”

  I held up my hands and went back to Lizzie, who was watching us intently with her arms crossed over her chest. Zach brushed his hands down his shirt and jeans then sat on the edge of a table a short distance from the bar. Kade went up next to him.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” Lizzie asked Zach. “Three years ago you were visiting your father in Miami. You and he were at my house. He introduced us as I was walking out the door.” The edge in her voice had lessened.

  Zach rubbed the spot where my fist had connected with his mouth. “Sorry. I don’t.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “The long and short of it is that your father and mine were best friends. My father made your dad trustee of my inheritance. I’m asking you if you can contact your father and ask him to call me or meet me. He’s not returning my calls. Or tell me where he is.”

  Zach let out a low laugh. “I barely know when he’s in town, let alone where in the country he is. Particularly when he’s on a gambling binge.”

  “Look, man,” I said nicely. I didn’t want to fight with Zach. It wouldn’t help Lizzie’s case. “See what you can do. Also, a friend of ours says there’s a high-stakes poker game going down somewhere in Boston in a few weeks. If you do talk with your old man, ask him if he’s playing in it.”

  “I’m no lawyer, but can’t you use the legal system to stop him? Or even the cops?” Zach asked. He’d also lost the attitude.

  “We’re trying,” I said. I’d done my homework on Florida law. I’d had every intention of sharing my findings with Lizzie after dinner the day before. “Death and stealing are two surefire ways to get a trustee removed. Another is if the trustee doesn’t handle the estate properly. That one is harder to prove. However, an easier, faster way is to prove that Terrance no longer lives in Florida. Lizzie, didn’t you mention that Terrance’s house was empty?”

 

‹ Prev