by Erin Bevan
His swell of gratitude turned to fretting as he turned his head and landed his gaze directly on Tawana’s gray stare. Recognition clicked in her eyes and she scrambled to shuffle her chair back, knocking her peanut bucket over in the process.
“Max!” She waved and stood, leaving the friend that sat with her in mid-sentence. “I need to talk to you.” She hurried over to him, her heels clicking on the wood floor.
Christ almighty. Not now.
Max stopped, hoping whatever she had to say wouldn’t cause a scene in the process.
Pat stopped to wait for him.
“Go ahead, Pat. I’ll be there momentarily.” He waved the owner off as he stepped over to the far wall, hoping whatever conversation he and Tawana would have was kept quiet and brief.
Very brief.
“Max, darling.” Tawana wrapped her arms around him, her perfume a little too heavy, while her hands traveled a little too low down his back.
The words Abort! Abort! Abort! screamed over and over in his mind like in some sci-fi movie when a spaceship is trying to escape the clutches of the soul sucking vortex it’s gotten too close to.
“Tawana.” Max released himself from her clasp and put some space between them. “I’m a little busy right now. Is there something I can do for you?”
“What’s with the formalities?” She held her head back and gave him a raised brow as she crossed her arms. “There’s nothing formal about what we did a few weeks ago.”
“This is not the time or place.” Max glanced around to see if anyone noticed them. Luckily no one, other than Tawana’s friend, seemed to care.
She furrowed her brow. “You’ve been ignoring me these last few weeks, not returning my phone calls. I don’t appreciate being ghosted. What gives?”
“I’m sorry, but my intentions were never to give you an impression that we were more than what we were. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
He smoothed his shirt and continued down the walkway, not giving Tawana another glance. However, with every step he took away from her he felt her gaze practically burning a hole in his back. His skin crawled as if he’d played in a pool of baby spiders. The last thing he needed was Tawana giving him trouble, and he hoped like hell Alex hadn’t seen her.
Please…God…keep that baby in the corner.
He kept his head forward and entered the back room. The only thing that made the room private were two, hole-filled barn doors that closed them off from the rest of the customers.
“There he is,” Momma said in a sing-song voice. “We’re thinking about barbecue, Max, and wanted to know your thoughts.”
Barbecue? Seriously?
“Well…” Max nodded and glanced over to Alex. She looked up at him with happy, blue eyes, her demeanor calm and whatever sense of peace she felt; he wanted a piece of it. He rushed to his seat beside her, hoping like hell she didn’t see Tawana hanging off him like a pasty to a stripper. Last thing he needed was her worrying he couldn’t keep his promises.
Alex had her laptop pulled up on the table in front of her. Her smile met her eyes, and seeing him, her cheeks reddened before she dipped her focus back to her computer. In the seconds their eyes locked, he could sense where her thoughts went: to that morning, between the coffee and donuts, but while her eyes were beautiful and her embarrassment cute, he didn’t want cute and he didn’t want her between coffee and donuts. He wanted her for keeps.
Soon. Very soon.
A picture of Edinburg Castle popped up as her computer background before she clicked on a notes tab and typed various wedding details: Date, time, location, attendants.
“Max, who’s your best man going to be?” Momma asked.
“Dane,” Alex said before Max could reply and typed Dane’s name on her computer.
“Of course, you would know.” Tami nodded. “Is there anything about each other you two don’t know already? You’ve been friends for so long.”
“There are a few things we don’t know about each other yet.” Max smiled and gave her a slight wink.
Alex gave him a subtle glance as she took her drink straw between her lips and sucked.
Little Minx.
She did that on purpose.
“So, Max,” Pat said, in his deep, southern twang, oblivious to the sexual tension floating between him and Alex. “I know you think I can only do burgers and chicken wings, but I can cook anything.” Pat made a slicing motion through the air with his hand. “Anything at all. You tell me what you want, and I’ll do it. We can cook onsite. I have access to my brother’s smoker, and we can pull it to the Mills’ farm.”
“He’s right,” Tami said. “Pat caterers for our church all the time.”
“It’s not me you have to convince, guys.” Max held his hands up. “It’s my bride. Whatever she wants, I’m okay with.”
“Are you sure?” Alex asked. “I don’t want you to hate it.”
“Alex.” Max stared into her searching gaze, fear flickering. He placed a hand on the back of her chair, pulling at her short blonde strands. “I could never hate it as long as you’re there. Whatever you want, so do I. Is this what you want?”
“Actually, yeah.” Alex smiled. “I’ve always dreamed of something cozy and intimate on my parents’ farm.” She shrugged. “I hope that’s okay with you.”
“Cozy and intimate it is then,” Max agreed.
“Then it’s settled!” Momma clapped. “That was easy. A backyard, barbecue wedding in October. It’s going to be beautiful, and Alex, your dress is perfect for this kind of wedding.”
A dress he couldn’t wait to see her in because if she was in it, that meant it would be their wedding day. A day he never thought would come.
Tami asked Pat more questions as he served them side dishes and appetizers. It was good, but Max’s mind roamed way past food as he thought over where he would take his bride on their honeymoon. Somewhere tropical? Seeing her in a bikini wouldn’t hurt his feelings, but as a picture of Edinburgh popped back up on her computer, her screen saver cycled through pictures: Edinburgh, Glasgow, Skye, Inverness, his answer stared at him plain as day. The place her ex had promised to take her but never delivered. He would give her Scotland. He would give her everything she wanted, and then more.
As they left the restaurant, Max placed his hand on Alex’s back and shielded her from Tawana’s evil gaze. He had a terrible feeling deep in his gut, that loose end was still yet to be tied.
“Okay, dear. Are you ready to head to the rental shop? Then we’ll go home and talk about everything? Try to get it all sorted a little better?” Alex’s mother asked as the three of them stepped outside the restaurant.
“Yeah, sure.” Alex agreed.
“Max, are you coming? It’s your wedding, too. You should be in on the details,” Momma said.
“I’d love to.” Anything to show Alex he was all in.
“Awesome. Why don’t you two ride together? I have to make a quick errand to the dry cleaners first.”
“Sure.” Alex said. “See you in a minute.” Once her mother was out of earshot, Alex turned to him. “God, did you see her?” she asked as they strolled down the sidewalk to his car.
“Who? Your mother?”
“No. Beth.”
“Beth? You mean the Beth? No. Where was she?”
“Inside the diner. Most people know her as Tawana, but Chris called her Beth. Her name is Tawana Beth Boone and for some reason Chris used her middle name instead of her given name.” Alex rolled her eyes. “His pet name for her, or something stupid like that.”
Max stopped abruptly, his knees almost giving out on him. “Wait? What?” Max pointed back toward the restaurant. “That’s Beth? The Beth Chris cheated on you with? The one you cried to me about?”
“Yep. The very one.” Alex stopped beside Max’s car. “I guess I should be thanking her, but I really can’t bring myself to do it. Although, I am happy Chris and I aren’t together anymore.”
Chris and Tawana.
Tawana w
as Beth…the woman Chris cheated on Alex with. And now, Max had slept with the same woman.
How the hell had he let that mistake happen?
“Max, are you okay?”
“What?” He shook his head. “Yeah, sorry.” He reached for her door handle, and opened it for her. “I just didn’t realize that was her.”
“Thank you.” She slid into her seat and positioned her laptop bag in her lap before looking back up at him. “Thank God you’ve never had anything to do with her. I mean, she wasn’t one of your flings, right?” Alex asked, her blue eyes, searching, almost pleading for him to say no.
“Oh, right. Of course not.” He shrugged, cringing inside.
“Good, because it’s like she’s out to ruin me or something.”
“Ruin you?” Max ran a hand through his hair. How in the world could get this more complicated? “Why would you say that?”
“Because me and her were interviewed for the same position at school, and I got it. And then the whole thing with Chris. She saw us together at the school the day of the interviews. It’s like, once she found out she didn’t get the job, she went after Chris for retaliation or something.” Alex shook her head.
“You think it could have been a coincidence?”
Surely Tawana wasn’t that evil.
“Who knows?” Alex shrugged. “Maybe, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Like I said, I should be thanking her, but I’m so glad you haven’t had anything to do with her.” Alex smiled as she looked up at him still standing outside the car. “There’s no way we could get married if you had.”
Never get married?
“Why? After she gets a hold of a man, is the man used goods or something?” Max chuckled, trying to laugh off the situation even though there was nothing to laugh about.
“For me he is. If I were with someone she’d been with, all I would be able to think about is if she would try to steal my guy again. I would go mad with worry, and no relationship is worth that.”
No relationship.
“You’re right. Not worth it.” Max shut the car door and took his time walking to the driver’s side, his chest heavy. Now, not only was he a scoundrel but a liar.
Perfect.
Jiggling his keys in his pocket, he halted his hand on the door before he opened it and slid into the driver’s seat.
“You look a bit pale. You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine.” He swallowed. “Just all the greasy food not settling well. Let’s get going shall we. We have a wedding to plan.” He gave her a slight wink then cranked the ignition. Tawana exited the dinner and marched toward his car. He slid the vehicle in gear and veered into traffic, his hands tight on the wheel.
Glancing back in his rearview mirror, Tawana raised her hands in the air in irritation. How was he going to keep his past from coming back and biting him in the ass? He really had no idea.
13
After dragging through her apartment door, all Alex wanted to do was get in her pajamas and eat the fifteen samples of cake Max carried in his hands. Alone.
Reality check, she didn’t want to be alone. She wanted to be very much not alone, but through all her misjudgments, she still considered herself a sensible woman. Having Max, in her apartment—alone—after what happened this morning in her kitchen did not stand in line with the word sensible.
“You can put the bag on the counter.” She tossed her purse in its usual spot beside her refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water out of it. “Man, today was intense, huh? I can’t believe how excited Mom was. Dress, caterer, flowers, rental shop. And to think, we still have to get the invitations out Monday.”
She took a sip, the cold water sliding all the way down, cooling her insides, while Max scooted behind her and massaged her shoulders, his touch counteracting the cold water. She sighed and leaned her head onto his hard chest. He’d done this a million times over the years, but tonight was different. Before, he’d massaged her on some regular old day, not on the day they’d planned their wedding…to each other.
The slow dig of his fingers, the way he smelled, the way he allowed her to just fall into him…it was more.
More intimate.
More sensual.
And so not sensible.
They couldn’t go there, and already they’d crossed dangerous ground. But he’d sat through two hours of picking roses versus tulips and not complained once. Or asked to leave, or even so much as snuck a peak at his phone. He’d been there, in it, with her, and she’d never been happier or prouder to have him as her friend. But seeing Beth, or Tawana, whatever the woman called herself, reopened the wound of how much Chris had hurt her. She couldn’t allow Max, or any man, to do that to her ever again. After all, what she and Max had was fake. They were fake fiancés, and even though their friendship was real, and their marriage would be legal and binding, it would all be a sham.
She’d do well not to forget it, despite how real the day had felt.
She pushed away from him and headed to the couch, leaving him in the kitchen.
“You okay?”
Nope. Not in the least.
“Fine. Just tired. I’m just going to crash and watch some T.V. Thanks for coming with us today. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, but you sound like you’re dismissing me?”
Because she was.
“Mind if I stay and watch some TV with you?”
Yes! Yes, she minded. Because if he stayed, she’d tell him she wanted him to join her on the couch naked, and friends didn’t watch television together naked.
But how could she tell the man who was saving her butt to get lost? She couldn’t.
“No. Of course not.” She gave a noncommittal shoulder shrug, not looking at him. “I just thought you’d want to go home.” She reached for the remote and propped her feet on the coffee table, turning the television on to the baking channel. What better way to get her mind off one delicious dessert than by thinking about other ones?
“Not yet.”
The squeak of her top kitchen drawer echoed followed by the clanging of utensils.
“What are you doing?”
He pulled out a box from the paper sack they’d brought home.
Dirty bastard.
He was going to butter her up with cake, and he knew she couldn’t turn down cake.
In a few quick strides he stood by her side. Taking the remote from her hand, he flipped off the television.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“I think it’s time we taste tested these cakes, don’t you?” He sat beside her and turned toward her. “We can’t have a wedding without cake.”
“Can’t we eat cake and watch television at the same time? Makes the cooking channels that much easier to watch.”
“No.” The stormy green of his eyes glinted, the same glint he’d given her right before he tried to have his devilish way with her that morning. “I don’t want anything distracting you from what you’re about to taste.”
Oh, Dear God, that sounded dirty.
Heat tingled between her legs.
Nothing needed to be tingling.
He opened the cake box revealing a chocolate cupcake with chocolate ganache icing that wafted the most rich, luscious flavor she’d ever smelled. She practically salivated. Though over Max or the chocolate she wasn’t quite sure which.
“Chocolate. Your favorite.” He scooped a large helping of the cupcake on the fork and held it up, close to her mouth. “Want to taste?”
“You know I do.”
Just as the fork touched her lips, he pulled his hand back.
Not only was he a dirty bastard, he proved a mean one at that.
“You don’t come between a pregnant woman and her chocolate, Max. It could get you hurt.” She reached for the fork, but as she did, he tipped it up and the cake plopped right on her chest, icing falling down her shirt. The mess looked like a glob of baby pooh down her chest.
“Max!” She squealed. “You did that on purpose.”
“Maybe I did.” He shrugged. “Maybe I didn’t.”
“Punk. You did.” She pulled her shirt back as more cake crumbs fell into her bra.
“Looks to me like you need cleaned up,” Max said as his phone rang in his pocket. He quickly reached for it and furrowed his brow at the screen before hitting the end call button.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything’s fine.” Max’s tone was tight.
Everything didn’t sound alright with him, but then again, it wasn’t with her either.
“Well, then do you mind getting me a napkin?” She reached down her shirt for the cake. Some of the icing smeared the front inside of her blouse while some slid lower into her bra.
His phone rang again.
“Jesus Christ,” Max growled as he glanced at the caller ID.
“Someone really wants to talk to you,” she said, the number not familiar to her.
“It’s not important.” He hit the end call button for the second time.
Alex pulled her hand out from the inside of her shirt, icing covering her fingers. He stared at her, his eyes wide, and she watched him swallow. His attention diverted to the top of her shirt.
Okay, this can’t be good.
On contrary, it would probably be very good, but she didn’t plan to find out.
Alex stood.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To get a napkin to clean myself up.” She slid past his legs.
And to get away from you.
“How about I have a better idea.” He reached for her hand stopping her. His voice sounded gravelly, his irritation from the phone call gone, as his eyes dilated like one of those thirsty, blood-sucking vampires she’d read about in romance novels.
Her friendly, fun loving Max was gone, and in his place was a man she’d never seen before.
He stood, taking her hips in his hands, pulling her closer.
A smart person would run away from a blood sucking vampire, however all of her blood seemed to drain from her brain to other areas of her body that would love to be sucked.
“Max…” He pulled her into his chest, her eyesight directly on his bobbing Adams apple.