“Lizard!” I called again, my voice dying on the last syllable.
She hesitated for a split second before she ran, hard and fast. I watched her weave in and around people. I wanted to chase her, but something told me she needed space and time. And I needed a shrink.
Chapter 16
Lizzie
Dillon’s Camaro was stuffy. Or maybe it was the fact that I was holding my breath as we got closer to Kelton’s house. Dillon had agreed to drive me out to Ashford. For the past forty-eight hours, I’d been replaying both the strain of Kelton’s voice when he’d called me Lizard and the desperate plea in his eyes. Like he wanted to say so much but didn’t know how. As we stood on that busy street in Boston, the world spun around him, me, us, our childhood, our tragedies. At every blink, breath, and tear, all I could think about was the good times we’d had, the feelings we’d shared, and the dream of him and me forever. I didn’t want to relive the past. Seeing Kelton was already taking a toll on me. Seeing his parents would only serve to open wider the wound that I’d closed to the past. Self-pity. Argh! The damn emotion was like a serrated knife, cutting through me every time I was reminded of the good times I’d had as a little girl when I was happy and had a family.
I toyed with the edges of my jacket then bit on my finger as houses, a farm, wooded lots, and a brook slipped by on the winding two-lane country road.
“I think you should turn the car around,” I said.
At breakfast that morning, Dillon had counseled me that having dinner with Kelton’s family might help to put the past behind me. Maybe so. Maybe I could say my piece and be on my way. After all, I hadn’t come to Boston to pine for Kelton or cry myself to sleep. I’d already done that many times over the years. Maybe it was also time for me to face Mr. Maxwell and get rid of the anger I’d been harboring since the accident. Yet the closer we got to the Maxwell house, the closer I was to puking up my breakfast.
“Lizzie,” Dillon said so softly I barely heard him above the hum of the tires. “I can turn around smoother than a race car driver, but for your sanity, you need to do this.”
“I know,” I replied as my pulse pushed against my wrists. I’d already called Kelton. He’d sounded excited. Part of me didn’t want to disappoint him. Besides, I was strong. At least, my mom had always told me that when I was crying over Gracie or Kelton. God, I missed my mom so much. Maybe that was one of the reasons I didn’t want to come. I’d always adored Mrs. Maxwell, and at times she would remind me of my mom when she’d told me how beautiful I was as a little girl.
“You think you’ll have nails left by the time we get there?” Dillon’s tone was playful.
“I’m not chewing. I’m nibbling.”
He flaunted a smile. “So, I have good news. Tommy called this morning. There’s a high-stakes poker game scheduled in mid-March. All the big players will be there.”
“And Terrance?” I abandoned my fingers to play with my jacket again.
“Tommy is trying to get his hands on the list of names. All players have to ante up in order to get a seat.”
Even though mid-March was three weeks away, I wanted to jump over and kiss him. Dillon was a super-nice guy. Any girl would be lucky to have him. Well, those girls who loved men who wore ponytails. Dillon had his hair tied back in one. “When will he know?”
“Not sure. Once I know, you’ll know. Right now, can I give you some advice about this dinner?”
“Sure.” He’d been giving me advice all day. I was grateful. Since I’d met him he’d been nothing but sweet, helpful, and protective. But I kept thinking about the poker game, not the dinner. If Terrance was on the list, then I had to be there, especially if Zach wasn’t any help before then.
“They invited you. Hear what they have to say. And don’t tear Kelton’s head off. I’m not a love guru, but the man clearly still has feelings for you, even though he’s in denial.”
His last statement erased any thoughts of the poker game. “Did you and Kelton talk about it?” I wasn’t sure I agreed, although he had put some emotion behind his kiss, and his voice had held an enormous amount of tenderness when he’d shouted out Lizard. Part of me thought Kelton was trying to confirm for himself if he still had feelings for me.
“Hell no. The way you two argue, it’s clear you both still have feelings for each other. Why don’t you just admit it?”
“With our pasts, we could never build a relationship.”
“Today’s your chance to clear the past so you can see the future. But something tells me you’re afraid of more than your past.”
I watched the homes zip by. “People I love die.” Saying it out loud sounded like a pity party.
He pried my hand from my jacket and squeezed. “That’s what you’re afraid of? Christ, Lizzie. You can’t live with that way of thinking. Do you think you can kill a tough dude like Kelton Maxwell? You even said yourself he’s a cockroach that can’t be killed.”
I snorted. Then he laughed as he wheeled into a long driveway. A two-story brick mansion sat on what had to be ten acres of land. Not that I’d lived in a dump in Florida. My parents had had a modest home in a gated community. But this place was serene, breathtaking, really, with the lake in the background and the sun setting slowly behind the treetops. Or maybe it was the snow covering the landscape that made the property look like it had jumped off the pages of Better Homes and Gardens, the Christmas Edition.
Just as Dillon braked, Kelton came out and jogged toward us. When he reached my door, he opened it. “You came,” he said. His voice was equal parts nerves and relief.
“Yeah.” I drew out the word, hoping I was doing the right thing.
Kelton squatted down, peering around me at Dillon. “Dude, do you want to stay for dinner?”
Dillon and I exchanged a questioning glance. Or at least he did. I made my eyes bug out, prodding him to say yes.
Dillon laughed. “Why not?”
A lightheaded feeling washed over me. I didn’t have to face the Maxwells alone.
“Park in the back,” Kelton said, taking my hand.
I guessed I was getting out of the car. When I had two feet planted on the driveway, Kelton and I trailed Dillon on foot.
“So, were you waiting like a puppy on the top of the couch with your tail wagging?” I asked.
“Dogs get rewards like petting and stroking when their masters come home,” he teased. “Do you want to pet me? I’ll roll over for you.”
Yes, please. I slapped him on the arm. “Put your tail between your legs.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He draped an arm around my shoulder.
Goosebumps spread over my body, which helped to dial back my nerve-o-meter from ten to eight.
By the time we’d walked down to the six-car garage, Dillon was leaning against his Camaro. I couldn’t help but grin at how he’d removed his ponytail and combed back his hair, making himself presentable. It wasn’t that he wasn’t before. Ponytail or not, he was handsome, even though his nose piercing and shoulder-length hair didn’t exactly match his lumberjack style of a plaid flannel shirt, T-shirt, and jeans.
Kelton ushered us up the stairs of the wooden deck, which led to a sliding glass door. When he opened it, heat and a spicy aroma filtered out.
I hesitated.
“We don’t bite,” he said. “And you have Dillon and me to make sure you don’t get swallowed up by my brothers.” He winked.
I wasn’t worried about his brothers. His father was the one that drove my nausea. I’d planned what I would say to him. However, at the eleventh hour, all those words I’d had in my brain—gone. Before I could back away or take a step forward, Kade sauntered up with a warm smile that had me walking into the bright and shiny gourmet kitchen.
“Lizzie, I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot the other day.”
> Before I could say a word, two Kelton lookalikes ambled in. One had massive arms filling out his plain black T-shirt. The other was also built but was smaller in the chest than both of the other triplets. Since I hadn’t seen them since Texas, I couldn’t tell which was Kross and which was Kody. At least with Kelton the scar on his chin gave him away.
Kelton came up behind me. “Kross is the boxer, hence the arms. Kody is the singer, songwriter, and amazing guitarist.”
Kody’s face lit up with a handsome smile.
“Glad you’re staying for dinner,” Kade said to Dillon. “Welcome.”
After the introductions and a hug from Kody, a young woman I remembered from the gala came in.
“You must be Lizzie,” she said. “I’m Lacey.” She threw her arms around me. “Glad you could make it.”
As soon as she let go, I needed some air. I felt like a celebrity in the middle of the paparazzi.
“Okay, everyone. Stop suffocating her,” Kelton said. “She’s not a new toy.”
I could be for Kelton.
“Kel, Mom and Dad would like to see you and Lizzie before dinner,” Kade said in an even tone.
My nerve-o-meter shot to ten. I guessed we should get it over with. Maybe then my stomach would settle enough so I could eat. Dillon blinked slowly as if to say you got this.
“Come on, Dillon. We can hang in the theater room in the basement,” Kade said, sounding like the commander of an army.
All the guys left except for Kelton. Lacey hung back for a second, angling her dark head as she swung her wide green gaze between Kelton and me. Then I remembered what Peyton had said. Lacey and Chloe were cousins.
“We’re not dating.” I didn’t know why I even said that. I didn’t care what Lacey or Chloe thought of me. I did like Chloe though. Which led me to my next thought. Was Chloe okay? I hadn’t seen her since I’d found her crying on Zach’s porch.
“Mmm,” Lacey said. “I’ll see you guys at dinner.” She whisked out of the kitchen like she had a newfound secret.
“What just happened?” I asked. “Are you in trouble with Chloe? Lacey and Chloe are cousins, right?”
“Let’s go see my parents. My mom has been dying to see you.” Kelton placed his hand on my lower back. “And, again, I’m not dating Chloe.” His fingers pressed through my jacket.
That might be true, but that girl in the hall before art class had given him a note. I tore my jealousy to shreds. It wasn’t the time to fret over a girl or note or Kelton Maxwell. We exited the kitchen into a wide hallway that fingered out in three directions. We headed straight toward a seven-foot wooden door with slim glass panes framing the sides. Dusk crawled across the sky in the distance while a soft glow spilled from the room to our left that Kelton was about to enter.
I shuffled behind him, fingering my earring. A bay window, tall ceilings, fabric furniture, a fireplace, and thick carpeting created a rich but cozy atmosphere, especially with the fire flickering from the stone fireplace on the back wall.
Mr. Maxwell rose from the loveseat like an aristocrat, confident and stoic. Mrs. Maxwell sat like a queen, her tiny hands on her lap, her long black hair flowing effortlessly around her, her porcelain skin barely made up, her red lips turned upward. Her blue gaze swung from her son to me. They were both older but still exactly as I remembered.
My heart rammed like a bulldozer plowing through rubble. Memories swept me from the room and back into the past.
“Elizabeth, stop chasing Kelton,” Mrs. Maxwell had shouted from her spot by the pool with a laugh in her voice. “He’ll wear you out.”
Kelton and I had been throwing a football around. When he caught it I would chase him to the back side of his yard, what we had dubbed the end zone. He did run faster than me. It was always fun, though, to chase Kelton. Once one of us caught the other, we would roll around in the grass like two dogs play-fighting.
“Elizabeth.” A hand touched my shoulder.
The sunny day faded back into the soft glow of the room. Mr. Maxwell stood before me, reminding me so much of Kade. Despite the age difference, the resemblance was uncanny.
“May I take your coat?” he asked.
I swallowed again as I took off my jacket and handed it to him.
“Please have a seat.” He left the room for a mere second, returning empty-handed.
“Elizabeth.” Mrs. Maxwell patted the cushion on her left. “Please sit with me.”
I glanced at Kelton, who was mesmerized by my breasts or something on my blouse. Surely he wasn’t pulling one of his playboy stunts in the company of his parents. I brought my hand to my chest, praying my scoop neck blouse wasn’t betraying me, showing my cleavage. Then I realized my half-heart chain wasn’t tucked away. I wore it on a long necklace so it wouldn’t be visible no matter what I was wearing. Not that I was embarrassed by it. Over the years my friends had teased me for the cheesy charm. I’d always argued it wasn’t tacky, not to me. This piece of jewelry had been my rosary. I wasn’t Catholic, but my grandmother on my dad’s side was. God rest her soul. She’d carried her rosary beads with her at all times.
I inserted my necklace inside my blouse as I went to sit beside Mrs. Maxwell. Kelton had mentioned his mom had been in a mental health facility. I’d been expecting to see her distraught, not happy. It was stupid of me to stereotype.
Kelton and his dad made themselves comfortable on the sofa across from us.
“Thank you for inviting me,” I said.
“It’s so good to see you.” Mrs. Maxwell’s voice was angelic. “You’re just as beautiful as ever. More now that you’re a young woman.”
Kelton beamed with pride, as he always had when his mom complimented me. I was flattered but was reminded of my mom. I hadn’t come there to reminisce but to say my piece and, hopefully, move on.
An awkward silence grew as all eyes were on me. I wanted to say thank you. I wanted to slide closer to her. I wanted to feel what it was like to have a woman who I’d considered a second mom at one time in my life put her arms around me, hold me, and tell me everything would be okay. Instead I fidgeted, pushing my back against the armrest, my tongue stuck in place.
“Martin told me about the death of your parents and Gracie. I’m so, so sorry.” Mrs. Maxwell studied me like I was on display at the Miami Aquarium. Then tears pooled in her eyes. “My heart hurts for you.” Before I had a chance to flee, she embraced me, stroking my hair. “Can we do anything for you? Do you need a place to stay? We have plenty of room here.”
I stiffened, not sure what to do. My mind said to let go of the twisted feelings tearing me up inside. My body had different plans. I darted my gaze to Kelton, pinching my eyebrows together so hard it hurt. His eyebrows were deep into his hairline. Of all the thoughts that had run through my head about how my conversation would go, her hospitality had never been on my list. Sure, I’d envisioned her compassion for my plight, but not a warm bed or a place to call home.
She sat back.
I managed to get my tongue working. “Thank you, but I do have a place to stay.”
The fire crackled, spitting up little sparks. Or maybe it was my pulse jumping. I started to play with my earring as tears threatened.
A delicate hand covered mine. “It’s okay. Say what’s on your mind. I’m not going to get upset.” She stole a reassuring look at her husband, who watched with a careful eye, seemingly ready to put out any fires. “I’ve thought long and hard about you and your family, especially Gracie, over the years. Honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to say Gracie’s name without pain searing my heart. It wasn’t her fault, Elizabeth. What happened was never her fault.” Her head moved back and forth ever so slightly.
Kelton dropped his forearms to his knees, burying his face in his hands. Mr. Maxwell continued to watch Mrs. Maxwell and me.
“Ye
ah, I know. But Gracie didn’t know that. She blamed herself.” Tears stung. Damn it. I had to be strong. I gave myself a mental shake then focused on Mr. Maxwell. “Why? Why didn’t you teach Karen gun safety?”
Kelton jerked up, caution blanching his face.
Mr. Maxwell scratched the back of his head. “I’ve been asking myself that question for the last seven years.” He gazed at the fire then back to me. “I wish I could change the past. Unfortunately I can’t. I take full responsibility for what happened that day.” Pain and suffering washed over his features and doused his tone. He stood and padded over to the fireplace. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. For that day. For Gracie. For your parents.” His voice shook.
A tear ran down my cheek. I wished I could change the past too.
Mrs. Maxwell rose gracefully. “It’s okay, Martin.” She reached up with dainty fingers to touch his unshaven jaw.
He angled his chin down from his six-foot height, gazing at her like she was his everything. No doubt she was. Then he wrapped his arms around her. “I love you.” He said those three words as though he hadn’t said them in years.
More tears poured out as I witnessed so much love between them. I was envious. I hated that I couldn’t see my parents embracing each other ever again. I wanted what Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell had—love, a family, someone who would love me back.
In a flash, Kelton was on his feet, skirting the glass coffee table before taking his mom’s spot. Then he wiped a tear from my cheek with the tips of his fingers.
I glanced up into cloudy blue eyes. We didn’t need to speak. We both hurt. His parents hurt. I didn’t want to feel the pain of death anymore. I just didn’t know how to make the suffering stop.
“Can I have a minute alone with Elizabeth?” Mr. Maxwell asked.
“I should get the table set,” Mrs. Maxwell said. “Kelton, can you help me?”
The Maxwell Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 78
