Redheaded Redemption (Redheads Book 2)

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Redheaded Redemption (Redheads Book 2) Page 10

by Rebecca Royce


  He lifted an eyebrow as he picked up the menu. “She’s not prettier than you. Ever eaten here?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I’m craving pancakes, so I’m going to order some. Just carb it up every day.”

  Max groaned. “Yes, you’ll do that until you feel terrible for having done that too much, and then you’ll hate yourself for the overindulgence, having given that Amanda woman more power than she already has. Eat the pancakes. I’m sure they’re fantastic. But don’t eat them because she’s making you feel small.”

  The waitress poured coffee, and I took a long sip. “I’m done with letting her in my head. Sort of. I’ve been up since two in the morning. She’s had enough time today to bounce around in my subconscious.”

  “Great.” He sipped his own coffee. “So the party went badly. I’m sorry about that.”

  I sighed. “I guess after your party—or Muffy’s at your restaurant—I’ll find something else to do. I’m going to make sure yours is outstanding. One way or another, I’ll work it out.”

  From about three to four in the morning, I’d strategized a plan. People owed me favors. They were going to show up at that party, or they’d live to regret it. Yep, that was how I was living now.

  I was tired of talking about myself. I had plenty of me all the time. “So you were in the army, then you got out and went to culinary school?”

  He cleared his throat. “There was a year in between where I did some other stuff. Worked for some people doing jobs no one wants to talk about in countries we shouldn’t have been in. I can’t tell you where or what, but after one year, I gave it all up. By then, Eric had gotten engaged to Anna. Then it seemed actually possible to be respectable, to do something worthwhile with myself. So I served, did some other things…”

  Clearly, talking about it made him uncomfortable, because he abruptly became very preoccupied with getting the right amount of sugar into his coffee.

  He continued. “And then culinary school. Once I graduated, I worked for some chefs until I bought my own place. And well, you know my story from there.”

  We placed our orders. I got the pancakes.

  I took a deep breath. Much of the stress from earlier was gone. It was just nice to sit there. “But you started out in Maine with a big family.”

  “A really big one that is ever growing. I have so many nieces and nephews, I can’t keep track. I’m kidding. I sort of can. I mean, if I’m in the room with them, I can tell who is who. I know their names, but trying to remember who is pregnant when? It gets confusing.”

  That was interesting. “I only have one nephew, and he is the best child that was ever born. He’s beautiful. Perfect. There has never been a more beautiful baby ever.”

  He smiled slowly, stroking one broad fingertip across the rim of his cup thoughtfully before he said, “That is quite a proclamation. I’d bet you’re going to change your mind when you have your own kids. You’ll still love that boy, but nothing will ever compare to your baby.”

  I laughed. “Not having kids. God help any child I could conceive. They’ll be so fucked up. From day one, they’d have a mother half out of her mind.”

  “Are you under the impression that only people who have their shit together have kids? Because I have news for you—most people are totally screwed up. If it were a requirement to be totally fine all the time, no one would have kids. You’re the kind to have them. I can tell.”

  I leaned forward. “What about me tells you that?”

  “I just know.” He winked at me. “Consider me a soothsayer.”

  “Ooh, wow, I’m with a person who can see the future. We should hire you out to the police. Or put you on television. The Predictive Chef. You can chop onions and tell people what’s going to happen in their lives at the same time.”

  He pointed at me. “Hope, you are so much more fun than I thought you would be. Don’t drink alone, okay? I sat up last night thinking you’d passed out drunk in your bedroom and we’d find you dead this morning.”

  I shook my head. “I almost never drink. And I don’t overdo when I do indulge.”

  “Well, the point remains. It’s dangerous. I’ve seen too much shit.” He shook his head. “So why do you choose not to drink with others?”

  I swallowed. Anxiety surged through me. “I know that it’s totally shitty that I’m going to say this, but I’d really like… I’d like to not talk about it in detail. I get that we’re sharing and I love it, but can I just say that I don’t like to be out of control?”

  “I can get that too.” He took my hand across the table. “I can’t understand why I tell you things.”

  “Well.” I smiled. “We’re friends who thought about having sex. It’s probably not odd that you tell me things. Besides, I’m a good listener, and I keep a secret like I’m a vault.”

  He leaned forward. “I’m pretty good at keeping things private as well. Are you an alcoholic?”

  That was certainly a leap. “What makes you think that?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen you drink, and now you confess you have this strange thing about only drinking alone. I’m trying to make sense of it. Secret drinking? I wondered. Or maybe you’re supposed to not be drinking and you only do it when you’re by yourself so no one knows, but we have this strange relationship so you told me anyway.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m an alcoholic. I almost never drink. Also, I very rarely think about it when I’m not drinking.”

  He sighed. “So not that, then.”

  “Not that.” Maybe I could tell him. We had this odd relationship. He’d be the first person I spoke to about my problems who wasn’t a therapist, but maybe it was time to…

  His phone rang, and he let go of my hand to pick it up and then quickly put it on his ear. “Anna?”

  The waiter set down our breakfast, and I took a big bite of my pancakes. They were good. I didn’t give a shit why I was eating them. Food didn’t have to be psychoanalyzed. I was happy to do that for the rest of my life, but not right then.

  I loved these pancakes.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  I turned my attention to Max. “What’s wrong?”

  “Eric had a bad seizure. He’s at Brooklyn Veteran’s Hospital. He’s asking for me. I’ve got to go.” He looked around. “Where is the waitress? Do you mind paying? I’ll get you back.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t mind paying.” In fact, I pulled cash out of my wallet and set it down on the table. Much more than this could possibly be. “And we’ll take my car. I’ll drop you there. It’ll be the fastest way to get you there.”

  I’d always been good in a crisis that wasn’t my own. “Come on,” I urged him.

  He nodded. “Thanks, Hope.”

  “It’s nothing.” I texted Theo to make sure he was outside, which he was. I would’ve been shocked if he weren’t. They might have let me walk to the diner, but there was no way I was walking home since they’d found me. They took their jobs very seriously, and I couldn’t pretend to be surprised about it. One of their own had been nearly killed taking care of Layla.

  We got in the car fast. “You didn’t eat anything. Let me go back in and get yours to go.”

  “Not hungry.” He looked out the window as we pulled into traffic. “Amazing how quickly that can happen.”

  I actually understood him perfectly. “Eric was with you when he was injured, right? The injury that did this to him.”

  “He was. I was his XO. Sorry, that’s an executive officer. I was building quite the career for myself, actually. I was good at it, and so was he. Although he was also a lieutenant, he was under me that day. I had seniority. Anyway, yes, he got hurt. On me.”

  “On you?” I hadn’t been there, but I recognized guilt when I saw it. “You got him injured?”

  “No, but I didn’t protect him. It should have been me, not him. I can’t give you details. Most of it is classified.”

  I nodded. That meant it was one of those secrets h
e wouldn’t be sharing. We had that kind of relationship, both of us keeping our truths to ourselves. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe all that counted was what came next. I had to find redemption, and perhaps he thought he had to as well.

  “What do you think he is going to want to say to you?”

  He closed his eyes for a long moment. “Every time he almost dies, he asks to see me and he tells me that it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Then he must not think it is.”

  Max’s eyes were dark, fathomless. I wasn’t sure what he was going to say until he spoke. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks. I know the truth.”

  “You employ Anna. We’re going to raise money for him.” So help me, we were. I’d figure out how to make Muffy’s party a raging success. “I think you’re a good friend to him. How many times has he almost died?”

  Max rubbed his eyes. “Too many.”

  I went silent. Sometimes we needed silence. I sat back in the seat and watched him quietly as he looked out the window. Everything about him screamed leave me alone. To do anything else might get my head bit off. But then again, perhaps he was actually really needy in that moment and even he didn’t know it.

  I touched the strong muscles of his back, running my fingers up and down. He needed me right then, whether he knew it or not. I would be there for him, because sometimes you just needed someone to be.

  His body tensed before he nodded and then smiled at me. There was no joy in the act but thanks just the same.

  “Really can never make you out, Hope.”

  “I can’t make you out either, Max. I guess we’re both impossibly hard books to read.”

  His smile broadened. “I don’t know. You seem to have me down pat.” He took my hand and brought it to his mouth. “Come in with me.”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  Right then, I’d give Max anything he wanted in the world. That should scare me, but it didn’t. And I wasn’t going to ask why, I was just going to roll around in it for a while.

  Chapter 9

  Unless I was going to visit a new baby—something I had only done when Layla had Noah—I hated going to the hospital. But that was okay. This wasn’t about me. Max had asked me to come, I’d said I would, and so I wouldn’t make this about me by acting like I didn’t want to be there.

  The good news was, by the time we arrived, Eric wasn’t in the ICU anymore. He’d stabilized and they’d put him on a regular floor. That seemed awful fast to me, but when I asked if that was normal, Max just sort of grunted, mumbled about healthcare and them knowing there was nothing they could do for him short of the surgery he needed, and not said another word. I’d kept quiet after that.

  Eric’s room was quiet and sad. There weren’t flowers anywhere, and someone had pulled the shades closed so that it was particularly dark, save for a small lamp illuminating things and the light emanating from the constantly beeping monitors. No one could possibly be expected to get any sleep with the machines making so much noise.

  He turned his head when we entered. The man must be very sick, but he didn’t look worn down. No, he was a big, strong man with dark hair, dark eyes, and olive skin. Anna stood next to his bed, offering me a small smile when I gave her one.

  “Hey, there.” Max’s voice was somehow even lower. “I heard you were doing this again, looking for all this attention, throwing yourself around.”

  Eric’s face lit up at Max’s clear joke just as the man I’d arrived with sat down on the side of Eric’s bed. “Was hoping you’d show up. What was going on? Too busy to come see me?”

  Max groaned. “Got here just as fast as I could, brother.”

  Eric nodded. “Likely story. Look, I know I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating. This is not your fault.”

  Max visibly paled, his jaw hardening, and yet neither Eric nor Anna seemed to have noticed it in the few seconds it took for Max to pull it together. “I’d do anything to be in that bed instead of you.”

  “It was my fault.”

  I stepped forward. “Hi, sorry. I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hope Radford.”

  Eric’s eyes widened, and he grinned at me. The conversation about blame stopped, at least temporarily, which had been my intention.

  “You’re Hope Radford—the woman who ruined this guy’s life, but who Anna tells me he can’t stay away from.”

  I sighed dramatically, even as the words sort of burned. I deserved it, but whatever. “Well, I guess it’s a fly to the flame kind of thing. He knows it’s bad for him, but he can’t stay away. Like…like I’m carbohydrates.”

  Max closed his eyes and shook his head. “Not funny.”

  Anna crossed over to me and elbowed me gently in the side. “Carbs are fine in moderation.”

  “I’m in a room with two chefs. I should have gone for some angle that wasn’t about food.” I crossed my arms over my chest in mock distress. “But now, how about that? Has anyone fed you, and if they haven’t, can we get you something that isn’t hospital related?”

  He scrunched up his face. “I have no appetite. Sorry. And three chefs—before I was constantly in this condition, I was his first sous chef.”

  “The best one Max ever had,” Anna agreed fast. “And he hasn’t wanted to eat for a week or two. Things may be progressing.” She made eye contact with Max before she smiled at Eric again. “He just doesn’t like my cooking. Never did.”

  “You and Max with your fancy shit. I’d rather have a little pasta, a hamburger, and a beer any day of the week. That was the stuff we used to make at Hayley’s to go with the fancy stuff.”

  They continued to joke back and forth. I watched sort of in awe of the whole thing. I didn’t have friends to joke with like this. My friends only talked about people or clothes. Or vacations they were bored on. Lately, it seemed my sisters and I were just miserable all the time. Or that had been the case before Layla got happy. Bridget was checked out. Maybe it was just me who was miserable?

  We were in the hospital, and they were making jokes. Talk about making the best of a terrible situation.

  Anna looked at me. “They’re always like this. It’s kind of awesome. He does better with Eric in these situations than I do.”

  I took her hand. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “I think sometimes loving someone is knowing when they don’t need you, but when they need someone else. Like when Eric needs Max.”

  I swallowed. “I’ve never been in love.”

  “Max can’t take his eyes off you. You’ve totally preoccupied him. Please be the version of the person I think you are and not the one that Max thought you were all these years.”

  I ran a hand through my hair. “I don’t know who I am exactly. I never have. But I will raise money for Muffy and get your husband that surgery he needs, I promise you that. Whatever else I am or am not, I will do that. I promise. I keep the ones I make. Always.”

  She nodded. “Thank you, Hope.”

  We stayed another hour, and I remained mostly quiet, watching. Max had wanted me there, but I didn’t have much to say, which was really okay. I was comfortable, considering the circumstances. We were in the hospital, but it felt like we were just visiting with really nice people.

  Until Eric had a seizure.

  I’d seen someone have one once before. On a subway late at night. Then, I was pretty sure drugs had caused the seizure. This was different. One second, he was fine, the next, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he just seized. I covered my mouth to keep quiet and stayed out of the way while the doctors and nurses tried to help him.

  What was surprising was that it was so quiet in the room. All of us, everyone helping. It was practically silent.

  Then it was over. The seizure stopped, his vitals eventually returned to normal, and we left him to sleep. Anna looked like she’d aged ten years in the past ten minutes. How did she leave him at all without being utterly terrified all of the time?

  I almost asked, but as we left the hos
pital, I didn’t think it was the time. We’d just had a lot of reality, so maybe we didn’t have to pick apart the absolute smallest details of their lives right then.

  We got in my car without speaking a word when Max sat forward. “Can you close the barrier so they can’t see and hear us?”

  I nodded and hit the button shutting Luke and Theo away from me. “What’s going on?”

  Max kissed me. I didn’t expect it, and although my first response was shock, I quickly melted into it like it was the best moment of my life. It might actually have been. I smiled against his mouth, and he pulled off his seatbelt before unbuckling mine.

  “We’re going to live dangerously.”

  We were? My heart rate kicked up, but I wasn’t afraid. I was…excited. He pulled me onto his lap and the car slowed down. I looked out the window. Traffic. So maybe we weren’t going to live quite so dangerously. I faced him. We were so close, it was like we were breathing the same air.

  Acting on instinct, since I had less than no experience, I ground against him. He moaned and closed his eyes. When he finally opened them, his gaze was heated and all-consuming. “I can see your nipples through your shirt. They’re fucking hard.”

  I looked down. Yep, he was right. My cheeks must be turning red. There was no way I wasn’t blushing right then. “Guess there’s no hiding that.”

  “Nope.” He pulled me by the back of the neck until our lips touched again. He kissed and kissed me. I let him lead, happy to just be in this moment. It was possible to get lost in him. I loved it.

  He placed a hand under my shirt, touching my nipples through my bra. My hips were outright grinding into him now. He cupped my breast under my bra, and I pushed my chest into him.

  I reached down, feeling the bulge in his jeans. He raised an eyebrow. “Want to go for another kind of ride in this car?”

  That was so cheesy, and I kind of loved it. We were being so bad. I didn’t know that I’d ever been not seat belted in a car before, let alone something like this, but I felt alive and powerful. I wasn’t going to question it.

 

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