Max’s dark brows furrowed, his lips flattened, and his jaw muscles ticked. He did not like being told no, but he definitely didn’t like hearing that I didn’t have faith in him as a future father.
“I’m sorry, Max. But you wanted the truth, and now you have it. We’re not good for each other.” I still had a lot of healing and growing to do to accept myself, but being with Max wouldn’t allow it. I’d always be focusing on him and his phobia, wondering and worrying and doubting him or doubting us. Not healthy. It had taken these past six months to realize it, but I saw that now.
Max blew out a long breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but maybe you’re right. I will struggle. I will fight. But I’ve yet to fail at anything. And I know you will never find a man willing to work harder to make you happy. But you? You’ve given up. Not simply on your career, but on your life. So you don’t believe we could work? All right. There’s nothing I can do about it. But trust me, Lily. I know the man. He’s not the one for you.”
I stared up at Max. Okay, he knows something. He has to. There was too much conviction in his voice. “Why do you keep saying that?”
Max scratched his chin and looked away.
“Max,” I urged him.
He shook his head. “Some things are better left alone.”
Now it was my turn to shake my head. “You can’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Ask for complete honesty from me and not reciprocate.”
“I’m Maxwell Cole. I can do anything I like.”
I tilted my head. “You think this is funny?”
“No. I think you need to trust me, and if history has taught you anything, it should be that.”
Low blow.
“Max, please. Tell me why you think Patricio and I won’t work.”
“Besides the fact that he’s not me and will never understand you like I do?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just tell me.”
Max grumbled under his breath. “Why don’t you ask him? He is going to be your fiancé. Perhaps the honesty should begin there.”
Jerk. “Fine. I will. Unlike you, I’m sure he’ll have the balls to tell me. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a business to run.” I turned away, took a step, and fell over.
“Lily!”
When I came to with a nauseous churning in my stomach and a light head, Max held me in his strong—so, so strong—arms and carried me down the beach, my cheek pressed to his chest.
“What happened? Put me down,” I mumbled.
“No. Something’s wrong with you.”
“I’m fine—I’m just tired.” The long days at the store, the stress of my business failing, and the restless nights had finally caught up with me.
“If passing out means you’re tired, then it’s all the more reason to rethink your business strategy.”
Max cut inland and headed for a very tall set of wooden stairs to get us over the sandbank.
“Where are we going?” I asked, my legs bouncing as he huffed and moved at a quick pace.
“Callahan is waiting in the parking lot.”
“You brought your chauffeur to Santa Barbara?”
“Where I go, he goes.”
“And you are going to…?” He’d promised he’d leave once I told him the truth about why we couldn’t be together.
“To the hospital.”
“No. I’m fine. It’s happened before. Please put me down.”
He gave me a stern look and lowered me to my feet.
I pressed my palms to my knees, holding my body in the doubled-over position to get my bearings. “I forgot to eat last night.” Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. I didn’t usually do that, but with Max showing up and the fight and everything else, the emotions had killed my hunger. “You can go now. I’ll be fine once I eat.”
He placed his strong hand between my shoulder blades and made circles. “I’m taking you home.”
Oh, God. His touch felt so damned good. “No. Just go.”
“You’re being ridiculous. My driver is waiting up in the parking lot.”
I glanced at the long stretch of beach standing between me and my home and then at the flight of wooden stairs leading up to the public lot. “You’ll have to help me up the stairs.”
“No problem.” Without warning, he grabbed my arm and effortlessly whipped me over his shoulder. With my five-six height and slender frame, a guy like Max—six three, muscles in all the right places—could lift me easily, but he made a big show of it.
I’m a dude. A big strong dude. You know you’re impressed. Grunt, grunt.
“Max!”
“What?” He marched up the stairs with a smug bounce in his step.
He’s totally enjoying this! He’d thrown me over his shoulder on the night he’d taken me up to his bedroom at his home near Chicago. He’d fucked me senseless that night. He’d fucked me senseless the next day, too. Oh, hell. It had been the best weekend of my life.
Our sextastic weekend.