I didn’t think he had the first clue what kind of trouble I was in.
I gave him a tight nod. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it. It was running just fine, and then it seemed like it overheated.”
A dose of amusement rode into his expression, one stark brow lifting in speculation. “It was running just fine? Are you sure about that? If seeing you drive off a few days ago was any indication, this thing hasn’t been running just fine for a long time.”
A smirk ticked up at one side of his mouth, that easy sexuality he’d worn like a brand making a resurgence.
My knees wobbled.
“Well, I had to rely on her to get me all the way back out here, so I can’t blame her too much.” I lifted my chin. Why I felt the need to stick up for my crappy car, I didn’t know, but the last thing I wanted was this man to be judging me.
Maxon smiled a little more, tipping his head to the side, the guy so gorgeous it should have been a crime. “She?”
A little huff blew through my lips. “Of course, it’s a she. She’s a caretaker. I’ve been relying on her to get me around for years. Yours looks like a brute.” Why in the world was I talking to him this way? Nothing but an easy conversation.
“That so?” More amusement was riding out of him, that urgency from a few days ago gone.
Like seeing each other this way was . . . normal.
Expected.
He started coming closer, a rough chuckle tumbling out, hitting me square in the chest.
Hit after hit.
There went that easiness. Blown out of the water by the magnitude of his presence.
“Mmhmm,” I managed to mumble.
He’d always been unbearably tall.
But now he seemed . . . massive.
Imposing.
Foreboding in an arrogant, powerful way.
Drippin’ with all that danger and peril that he’d warned me he was capable of.
Too bad I hadn’t listened.
“Well, I didn’t have much choice in the matter. Government issued.” He shrugged a bulging shoulder. It gave a little flop to his blond hair that was cropped at the sides and longer on top. “I guess they thought it was a perfect fit.”
God, this man. I fidgeted, trying to take a step back. Last thing I needed to do was go and get hypnotized, his nearness some kind of mesmerizing drug.
Face so deliciously rugged, his chiseled jaw coated in at least three days of scruff. I had the stupid urge to reach out and scratch my nails through it. To touch him the way I used to do.
But it was hard to stop my mind from traveling that direction. The man a fantasy I’d tucked away that had manifested as whole.
Every inch of that big body was packed with tight, rippling muscle, both arms completely covered in colors and designs that danced with a story I wasn’t close enough to read.
Still, there was something about it that felt as if he had peeled off his layers.
A book sitting wide open to confess his sins.
Maxon tipped his head, mischief playing out in those eyes, and I realized my mouth was hanging open, drool probably running out the side.
Oh god.
He’d caught me checking him out.
Could this get any worse?
Redness flushed, and everything heated, and I swiped at the dampness that gathered above my lip as he was stopping a foot away from me.
“Hot out here, isn’t it?” he asked, something arrogant swimming in the depths of those blue eyes, the icy, vast color of a glacier tinged by the sea.
“Very.”
Those plush, full lips twisted into the softest smile, his demeanor jumping from one extreme to the next.
Remorse and regret and affection. Things I was sure I wasn’t ready to see.
“Izzy,” he murmured, and his hand was reaching out. Like . . . like he was gonna touch me.
Panic sent me stumbling back, my eyes going wide. I splayed my hands out over my chest as if it could protect me.
He huffed out a frustrated sound and sliced his fingers through his hair, looking away for a beat before he was turning that powerful gaze back to me. “How have you been?”
Bitter laughter came rushing up my throat. I tried to hold it back, but there were some things you couldn’t keep contained. “Are you really askin’ me how I’ve been?”
He winced, but he didn’t drop his gaze. “Yeah, I am.” He edged forward a little, stealing my breath.
I tried to shield myself from it, but there I was, sucking down his aura.
An intoxicating cocktail of the woods and the sea.
All man.
All sex.
“As if you really care.” God, I hated sounding petulant. Carrying around this chip on my shoulder. But he’d cracked me, left that gaping cavern right through the middle of me that throbbed and ached.
There hadn’t been an ounce of me that hadn’t believed in him. In his love. In his devotion.
Him throwing that away had only made it hurt all the worse.
A weighted sigh blew from his mouth, and he was slowly shaking his head, and still he wouldn’t let me free of the trap of his stare. “I do, Izzy. I fucking do, and I shouldn’t, but if you think I haven’t been worried about you all these years, wondering how you were and where you were and who you’d become, then you’re wrong.”
“You never even crossed my mind.”
Oh nice, Izzy. You are officially thirteen.
Amusement came riding back to his striking face. “Not even once, huh?”
“Nope.”
Lies, lies, lies.
He knew it, too.
Because those lips were twisting up, all sorts of smug and far too playful. As if we were the oldest of friends, and he didn’t mind if we sparred.
Ripping myself from the trance, I stepped back and hugged myself tighter, needing to get away from the draw of this man.
Or maybe I was just trying to hold back my heart that was trying to make a break for it, climbing a rib and getting ready to swing from a wayward rope.
Just another foolish, deadly jump.
“Listen, Maxon, I really need to get back to my mama and daddy’s. I picked up my mama’s medicine in town, and she’s waiting for it. Is there any way you could take a look or maybe call me a tow truck that can take it to a shop where they might let me make payments?”
I really didn’t want to be asking him for any favors, but what else was I supposed to do?
His expression both softened and hardened with worry.
But that wasn’t what I wanted.
His worry.
Him thinking he needed to swoop in and save the day the way he always had.
It was far too late for that.
“Izzy,” he started to say, and I put up a hand.
“About what happened the other day . . . it was no big deal. I didn’t keep close track of my account when I was traveling, and I spent a little more on gas than I’d first thought. It was no big deal. You don’t have to worry.”
He grabbed the wrist of the hand I had put in his face.
A gasp ripped from my lungs, and flames licked up my arm.
Hotter than the sun.
I was staggered by it, unable to do anything but get lost in the ferocity that blazed from him. “I do worry,” Maxon gritted.
I managed to pry my wrist away, hugging it close, the burn too real.
“I do worry,” he muttered again, shifting in discomfort, as if he was beggin’ me to believe him.
I couldn’t reply, all the words and confessions locked up inside, so heavy they were close to making me choke. Pain brimming and lapping and rising to cut off the flow of oxygen.
Finally, he tore his attention away, looking into the distance before turning back to me. “I’m just . . . let me take a look at your car,” he seemed to settle on. He moved over to my car and tucked himself under the hood, while I just stood there, staring at him from behind.
Hating the pull he had on me.
Or may
be I was just really hating the way his snug jeans hugged his ridiculous butt.
I mean, the man was ridiculous.
Heck, I could probably snag a picture of that and post it up on my Instagram and get two-hundred thousand new followers.
Show him off like some kind of trophy.
The real problem was that I’d always wanted to keep him for myself.
I bit down on my lip as I watched him fiddle. He was muttering under his breath, wiggling some wires, before he planted both hands on the frame and glanced back at me.
That striking face pulled up into something that looked far too close to affection, and it made my mind twirl its way into stupid things.
It only made it worse when his lips twisted up at one side, something about it so sweet.
“I think I might be able to get this started for you.”
“Are you serious?” I might have clapped in excitement. But could you blame a girl? I needed this car fixed, and I didn’t have a lot of resources to make it happen. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
A rough chuckle left him, and he roughed a hand over his face, leaving a bit of grease on his forehead.
God, why was that so sexy?
“Glad I can get you worked up so easily.”
I bit down on my bottom lip, praying it would stop another rush of blood from rising to my cheeks.
Oh, if he only knew.
“If you were thinking you were gonna have to hike it ten miles in the heat and these heels, you’d get worked up, too.” I managed to get it out, as if talking with him was no big deal.
“You sure that’s what’s working you up?”
Okay, there it went. That flush breaking free, climbing my throat and splashing on my cheeks like evidence of impure thoughts.
Maxon laughed, and then reached out and casually squeezed my forearm. I gave it my best to keep my pulse from completely stampeding out of control.
No such luck.
“I’ll be right back. Let me grab some tools,” he said before he sauntered back to his SUV, the guy eating up the ground as if he owned it, going all the way to the tail end.
And I stood there hugging myself and gnawing at my lip.
Contemplating.
Taken by how he maybe seemed . . . different.
More mature.
Less bitter.
He’d always been cocky, but now he oozed confidence.
As if maybe he’d risen above the horrible things that had held him back. My heart of hearts told me that was what had come between us.
The problem was, he’d allowed it to. Had chosen to believe the lies instead of the truth, cast me aside so easily when it seemed like the easiest thing to do.
I’d had to believe he’d hurt me because he didn’t know anything else but pain. But that in no way excused what he’d done, either.
And there I was, back to asking the same question I’d asked Faith.
How would I ever know?
A minute later, he was back, a toolbox opened on the ground, hands swift and adept and rough, and I was getting hit again with a rush of chills.
Like a fool, I was standing there imagining what those hands might feel like gripping my hips.
Oh God, Izzy, don’t go there. No matter what happened, that was not a path we’d be repeating.
But it was hard to ignore those old feelings that were begging to be acknowledged.
Dark blond hair flopped across his brow that was lined in concentration, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple, and those muscles flexing with strength as he worked to get a bolt tightened back in its place.
“Why don’t you give it a whirl?” he rumbled, not looking back, still fiddling with something under the hood.
I rushed for the driver’s seat as quickly as I could in these stupid shoes, thankful for the distraction. Sliding in, I inhaled deeply and told myself again that this was all gonna turn out okay.
Holding my breath, I turned over the ignition, reminding the heavens that I did, in fact, believe in miracles.
I had two of them waiting for me at home.
It chugged but didn’t start.
Dang it.
“Hold on one sec,” he shouted.
I waited, my knee anxiously bouncing.
Metal clanked before he called, “Try it again.”
I turned the key, and the engine squealed before it chugged and rumbled to life.
Air escaped my lungs on a shot of relieved, disbelieving laughter.
He did it.
Oh my gosh, he did it.
All of that excitement and gratitude came bubbling over, and maybe I should have stayed in the car where it was safe, but I left it idling and pushed back out so I could thank him.
I stumbled to a stop when I came around the front.
Maxon had his arms stretched overhead so he could grab the hood to slam it down.
Masculinity radiated from him as if it possessed its own lifeforce.
This raw, potent sexuality that glowed beneath the sun.
Then he went and lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead.
My eyes dropped, sight filling full of nothing but rippling, defined abs, as chiseled as that face, and it was my own stomach that was clenching.
Oh my God. Men shouldn’t be allowed to be that alluring. It made common sense go flying out the window.
He dropped his shirt, and he actually had the nerve to smirk when he caught me staring.
I dropped my gaze just as fast.
“Thank you so much, Maxon . . . this is amazin’.” I managed to give him my thanks while my entire being was itching to run. Or maybe what I was really itching to do was reach out and touch him.
He leaned down and gathered his tools, latched the lid of the box, and pushed to his full, towering height.
It cast me in his shadow.
A hedge of protection.
“Glad I could get it running, but that fix is only temporary. You need to get it into a shop and do it soon, or you’re going to find yourself stranded on the side of the road again.”
“Right,” I agreed with my mouth, calculating how many paychecks it might take to be able to pay for it.
Agitation coming on, I hesitated, tapping my foot when I tentatively asked, “Any idea how much it might cost?”
He sighed, roughed a hand over his jaw. “Thinking . . . four hundred. Maybe five. You’re going to need some new parts. I have a friend I can get in touch with . . . might be able to pull in a favor.”
I probably shouldn’t be taking favors from Maxon Chambers. But was I really gonna be bitter enough to turn down that offer?
“That would be really nice.”
He smiled. Smiled one of his soft, tender smiles. The one that moved through my senses like a cool breeze after he’d heated me up with everything else. “I’d be happy to.”
“Thank you, again. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t find me out here.”
“Hoof it in those heels for ten miles?” A playful grin worked itself onto his lush mouth, that dimple showing up in his cheek just to make my life a little more miserable.
Gentle laughter rippled out, unstoppable, and I was chewing at my lip again, trying with all of me to keep from goin’ soft.
We just stood there staring for a minute, gazes tangled, our tongues holding back so many words.
So much time had passed, and the mistakes littered between us were almost palpable, nothing but mountains and cliffs and caverns. Was there any chance we could find common ground?
I pushed out a sigh and shook myself from the thoughts. “I really should get going. Thank you, again.”
Why was it so hard to walk away from him?
Don’t do this, Izzy. Don’t let your heart get wrapped up in him. It isn’t a safe place.
“All right. I’ll give you a call on Monday. Let you know when I talk to Dalton. He owns a shop in Charleston. Your parents still have the same number?”
I laughed out a small laugh.
“Um, yeah. Neither of them even have a cell phone.”
Something wistful pulled across his face. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
I just shook my head, fighting the grin that felt more dangerous than anything.
“Hope they’re doing well, Izzy. Just like I hope you are, too.” He started to walk around me, and then paused, right there, looking at me from the side, though I could see the way his thick throat was bobbing in unease.
“Can’t believe you’re here. Never thought I’d get the chance to say sorry to you. For what I did. For being a coward. But I want you to know, I’ve thought about you every single day. Every single day. Every single one of them was spent praying that you were okay. That you were happy. Know it doesn’t make up for anything, but I need you to know that.”
His words were raw—grating—the pain coming from them almost knocking me to my knees.
Emotion fisted in my throat, and I couldn’t say anything, only gave him a tight nod and tried not to breathe him in as he offered me another apologetic smile and started for his SUV.
Panic built up in me the farther he got away.
“Maxon,” I shouted before I could stop myself.
He paused, his shoulders going rigid as he swiveled to look back at me.
“You want to come for lunch tomorrow?”
A frown of surprise pulled all over his face.
“I think there are some things we need to talk about,” I said.
“You want to talk to me?” He sounded shocked.
“Yeah,” I told him.
His frown deepened, and I quickly added, “My mama is making blueberry pie.”
That was all it took to have an affected smile ticking up at one side of those lips. “My favorite.”
I gave another nod.
Awareness spun between us, a storm that churned and spiraled and sucked me right in, the way it’d always been. What I needed to remember was that nothing would be the same.
“I’d love that,” he said.
“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow at one.”
I climbed into my car, soul crashing against my ribs. I sucked in the deepest breath and pulled out onto the road, hoping beyond hope that I wasn’t making a huge mistake.
Seven
Mack
Pieces of Us: A Confessions of the Heart Stand-Alone Novel Page 7
