An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)

The deputy had been mostly quiet since their arrival and had only smiled briefly in Grace’s direction after handing her a plate for her steak. He’d been close to the other of Buck’s female friends for most of the day, while also helping Vince with the grill. Truthfully, Grace was relieved. He was nice enough, but his attention made her nervous. Not because she was scared of him. Far from it. He’d always been supernice and polite to her, offering to walk her home from the bar when she was on late shifts if Holly was out or Max wasn’t around, which was rare. It was just that Max seemingly had a huge bee in his bonnet about the cop, and she didn’t want to be responsible for a falling-out between the two men. Knowing herself, she’d be sure to say something wrong.

Max smirked at Caleb, but his stare across the licking flames of the bonfire was anything but pleasant. Grace shifted at his side, wanting to touch him, but not knowing how. “What’s it to ya?”

Caleb shrugged and sipped his beer. “Just askin’.”

Max opened his mouth to say something that Grace didn’t doubt would be filled with expletives, but was interrupted by the sound of Journey blasting from the stereo Buck had brought. Buck leaped onto his seat and began his usual air guitar routine, along with Josh, who joined him and sang as loudly as he could about small-town girls and midnight trains. Before long everyone was singing, even Max, who laughed and encouraged Buck to jump like a true rock star from his seat.

They cheered and egged the boys on as they danced and goofed around. It was a shame that Grace had left her camera in her room. These were memories she wanted to document, to keep close to her heart, to look at whenever she was feeling bruised by life. She closed her eyes and allowed the sounds and smells of the moment to seep deeply into her, focusing on the gloriously loud laugh booming from Max’s chest. Similar to hearing her favorite song, the sound of it sent rippling goose bumps all over her body like a wave around a baseball stadium.

Max moved close to Grace’s ear when the song ended amid cheers and applause for Buck’s performance and AC/DC’s “Back in Black” began. “You okay?”

She smiled at Max’s gentle nod as the legendary guitar riff echoed up the mountain. “Absolutely.”





Grace was awoken by the sun streaming through a gap in the drapes and loud humming creeping from under the bathroom door. Grace rubbed her eyes and stretched. Her elbow bumped into the line of pillows that Max had been adamant about placing down the center of the bed. He stated their presence was to help make her feel safer, but something told Grace that Max needed those pillows between them, too—just for different reasons. Reasons that made her heart beat faster.

As she sat up and fastened her hair atop her head, the bathroom door opened and Max wandered out followed by a delicious-smelling cloud of steam. It was all deep spice and unlike any scent Grace had smelled before.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, fastening the tie on his blue board shorts and pulling the hem of his white wifebeater back down, hiding the sliver of exposed sun-bronzed skin under his belly button. “You’re awake.”

He moved around the room quickly. The tattoo on his shoulder was more visible than Grace had seen since the day they’d touched in his room. Her heart squeezed at the memory. The tat was black, thick black that looked almost like flames, maybe feathers?

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, pulling on his watch and slipping on a pair of black flip-flops before running his hands through his damp hair. Grace kind of loved that he never seemed to use a brush, especially when his hair stuck up that way.

“Yeah,” she replied, standing up and neatening the covers. “Did you?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “I sleep good anywhere there’s a horizontal surface, ya know?”

Grace smiled, shuddering under the way his eyes traveled lazily down her cami top and sleep shorts. “Can I use the shower?” she asked, reaching for the towel folded on top of her bag.

“Yeah, of course. Buck, Josh, and I are gonna head down to the lake and set up the float and shit, maybe get the boat out. It’d be cool to spend the day on the water. It’s hot. Come down and join us when you’re ready. Uncle Vince is on breakfast duty.”

She nodded, holding the towel close. “We’re swimming today?”

Max flashed her a look that slid under her skin and made her warm. “We sure are. And you”—he took a large step toward her—“need to get that swimsuit on and show off that gorgeous body of yours.” His top teeth pressed into his bottom lip. “It’d be a damned travesty if you didn’t.”

“Oh, well, I—” she flustered, her cheeks heating. “I— Yeah, I mean, okay, I might.”

Max plucked his Ray-Ban shades from off the top of the dresser and slid them on. “That’s my girl.”

Without another word, he left the room, closing the door gently behind him. The three words he’d spoken wrapped around Grace like a warm hug and sent her heart into a very confusing frenzy.

“Hey, Grace!” Ruby waved maniacally from where she stood at the water’s edge. “Come over here, honey!”

Max was right: It was scorching hot. Grace’s skin tingled under the sun’s rays as she made her way to where the women of the house had set up their own little sun-worshipping oasis. Towels, loungers, beach umbrellas, and coolers were all in attendance, while the shouts and splashes Grace could hear alerted her to the fact that all the boys were in the lake doing . . . something.