I thought he’d understand where I was leading with this and maybe share. But he didn’t or at least he didn’t share the important bits.
“Yeah, we were friends, long time ago. Brody, Curt and me hung out together in high school. We all played ball.”
“Ball?”
“Football.”
“Oh.”
He said no more and I waited, giving him his opening and he didn’t take it.
“What happened?” I asked softly, thinking I knew and bracing for impact.
“Lotsa shit,” Max answered and kept talking, “after school, Curt and me were in business together, construction, small jobs. He wanted to take it in a different direction, the one he took and he wanted me with him. He was determined and eventually got in my face. I didn’t like it, not him gettin’ in my face or what he planned to do and I knew the town wouldn’t either. I tried to talk him out of it. He didn’t listen.”
He stopped speaking and I waited again for him to share further.
He didn’t.
“But you stayed close to Bitsy,” I remarked.
“Yeah,” he replied and he started to move his thumb, using it to stroke the back of my hand.
That felt nice in a way that interfered with my ability to put together the words to tell him I’d seen his wedding photo when Max changed the subject.
“Got an idea.”
“An idea?”
“Yeah.”
“What idea?”
“Next week, I’ll introduce you to George.”
“George?”
“Attorney in town, only one we got. Last time I talked to him he was talkin’ about expanding, findin’ a partner. All the new folks around, work’s pilin’ up.”
My heart started beating faster and I said softly, “Max –”
But Max kept talking, proving that while my mind was on future disaster, Max’s mind was on other things entirely. “Best season to rent the house is winter. The A-Frame is in demand, I jack up the rent and, still, it’s booked solid, back-to-back. Construction dies down in winter too, jobs less easy to find. You and me can go to your brother’s house after Thanksgivin’, come back February, March. That enough for you?”
He was planning our future.
And it sounded like a good plan, a thoughtful plan, a generous plan. Max giving me what I needed, time in Charlie’s house, time to spend in England, my other home. It was, if we could swing it financially, the perfect compromise.
Even so, I informed him quietly, “Max, we’ve known each other a week.”
His hand squeezed mine and he asked, “And?”
I looked at him and repeated incredulously, “And?”
“Yeah,” he replied, not taking his eyes from the road, “and?”
“We barely know each other,” I explained unnecessarily.
“Met your Dad, heard your history with all those dicks and your Mom likes me,” he said and this was, of course, all true. “Also seen you pissed, sick, sweet, you love my house and it’s fair to say we got chemistry.”
“Yes, but –”
“No ‘but’, just ‘yes’.”
“Yes, but, that’s insane.”
He glanced at me and asked, sounding like he was getting annoyed, “Why the f**k’s it insane?”
“Max, we’ve known each other a week,” I repeated.
“You like the town?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s pretty.”
“You like Mindy, Arlene, Cotton, Becca, Bitsy?”
“Of course.”
“They like you too.”
That, I had to admit, felt nice since I liked them all a whole lot.
However, for sanity’s sake, I kept fighting my corner and explained, “Max, you don’t make decisions like this on the fly.”
His hand tightened in mine and it was so tight it almost hurt.
“So… what? You’re sayin’ you sit, you wait, you let life slide by while you decide to make the decision you were gonna make in the first damned place and hope to God some shit doesn’t happen, like you get in a car accident, lose your legs or worse, your f**kin’ life.”
I felt my chest freeze at what I read in his words so I could do nothing but breathe, “Max –”
He maybe didn’t hear me for he kept speaking. “Say you just lose your legs then you got the rest of your life to think about all those months you wasted, not livin’ it.”
That I knew too well.
Still, I whispered, “Max –”
But he knew I knew it and his voice dipped softer, he was still irate but he was attempting to be gentle. “I figure, what you went through with your brother, Duchess, you get it.”
“I just got out of a relationship,” I explained, latching onto another defense, no matter how lame.
“You didn’t just get out of that relationship, Nina, you been out of it for awhile, you just recognized you were.”
God, it was so annoying how bloody smart he was.
I yanked at my hand to no avail so I let it relax but twisted my head to look out the window and suggested sharply, “Let’s not talk about this.”
“Why? Because you know I’m right?”
I twisted my head back to him and used my words as an accusation, a loud one, a loud one that bounced around the cab. “You’re moving too fast!”
“Found somethin’ I want, don’t tend to f**k around when that happens, Duchess. Ever.”
Although his words made my belly feel kind of squishy in a good way, my mind reminded me he was annoying.
“Perhaps, Macho Mountain Man Max, you’ll give me a second to breathe and get my head sorted before I decide to turn my life on a dime. Or would that be asking too much?” I queried sarcastically.
“You don’t wanna breathe, babe, you wanna find time to repair your shield to hold me back. Since I’m guessin’ I got in more than your pants today the answer is, yeah, that’s askin’ too much.”
I yanked at my hand, again to no avail, gave up and snapped, “God, you’re so annoying.”
“You fight with Niles?” Max asked suddenly.
“No.”
“Never?”
“No! And stop asking about Niles,” I demanded.
He ignored my demand and kept questioning. “Didn’t care enough to fight, didn’t match you in fire or was so lazy, he just put up with your shit?”
My head shook back and forth, short, angry shakes.