by Kay Lyons
The sound of a group of people walking by alerted him to their lack of privacy. Max ended the kiss and lifted his head but stayed positioned where he was, her heavy-lidded gaze and full lips holding his undivided attention. "I asked for dancing but I'd rather kiss you again."
A nod was her answer.
"Holland?"
"Mmm?"
He brushed another kiss across her lips, deciding the lack of privacy was a good thing since it would keep him in check but allow him to kiss her as he pleased. "It was definitely an invitation."
Max took Holland out again the following evening. Now she sat across the table from him at a nice restaurant, aware of more than one envious female glance piercing them from the bar area. Had she not felt fairly confident in herself, she would've been hard-pressed not to squirm from her feelings of inadequacy.
Too much time sitting in airports and writing descriptions of the items she'd researched and photographed, not to mention her love of reading, meant a constant battle with weight due to the heavenly tastes of the food from around the world. Max didn't seem to mind her curves, though. Not when he looked at her the way that he did. "Have I mentioned how good you look in leather?"
Her words brought a sexy tilt to his lips.
"I think I should be the one giving you compliments. That dress," he said, his gaze lowering to what he could see of her above the table, "is amazing. You look amazing. Which is why I'm sitting here wondering why you want to talk about my grandmother's dating life instead of ours."
He pierced her with his gaze, and it was a struggle for her to regulate her breathing, especially after that dating comment.
"Holland, why is finding Akihiro Tadashi so important to you? Because you feel my grandmother settled?"
Settled? Oh, touchy ground. Max was a Bane male with a heavy sense of pride. Tread carefully, her mind warned. "I think you read the letters the same as I did. She didn't have a choice, Max. It was a different world then, and she did what her family expected of her, partly because she was so heartbroken. But even though it may not have been her choice at the time, I have never heard a woman say she's regretted her children and grandchildren. She loves you, Max. You know she doesn't regret anything to do with having you."
Max pondered her words for a quiet moment before reaching out to lift his glass from the table.
"Well, we can't change the past but here's to not settling."
She smiled at him and clinked her glass to his. "To not settling."
While she sipped her drink and held Max's gaze, a waiter arrived with their food order. Dinner conversation ranged from their travel experiences and bad airport food to Max's plans to help his uncle build a school in Africa. "You really love it there, don't you?"
"Sorry. I'm going on about it too much."
"No, not at all. You're very passionate about the work you're doing and for good reason. Will you continue to focus your time in Africa or move on to other countries?"
"That's a good question. There are plenty of places in need, so I'm sure the work will travel to a new location at some point. I'm not sure when, though."
"You know, there aren't a lot of men in your position willing to give the majority of their hard work away."
"I have more than enough to keep me and my future family fed in my old age," he said.
Holland frowned at his tone, sensing that she'd hit a nerve but unsure of why. "It's a calling you feel, isn't it? Don't apologize for that," she said before he could answer. "Everyone should be so blessed that they get to do what they love in life."
She noted that, with her statement, the tension that had appeared so suddenly eased.
"What about you? Do you love what you do?"
Another tough question. One she'd been pondering a lot lately. "I love certain aspects of it. The travel, for sure. Being able to see places I'd probably never get to go to working a regular job. But it has its downsides, too. I wind up with families who have overextended and selling the items is a sad attempt to recoup money or a last-ditch effort to avoid foreclosure and public shame. They don't say so while hiring the company I work for, of course, but when I'm in their home, I inevitably hear things. The upside to that, however, is that the items go to another home and aren't wasted, and the money helps, for a while at least. But living out of a suitcase gets old, as does getting stuck in airports."
"And your future? What does it look like?"
"Oh, who knows the answer to that? The future will play out as it's meant to. And I'm okay with that," she said, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. "I think when the time is right for me to make a change, I'll know."
"You trust your gut instinct. That's good. That's a trait some people struggle with their entire lives."
A long silence fell over the table as they stared into each other's eyes. Her pulse picked up speed at what she thought she saw.
Max sat forward in his chair.
"Did you, uh, find any information today during your search for Akihiro?"
Now who was the one wanting to talk about his grandmother's boyfriend? "Tadashi is a popular last name. Thankfully there were a limited number of camps in California. Still, most of the records only show a first initial, so that has definitely slowed me down."
"Maybe it's for the best."
The best for whom? "I'm sorry this is so hard for you, Max."
"It's an adjustment in thinking, for sure. My grandfather could have been a better husband. I know that. There have always been whispers amongst the staff, gossip at parties. Even a few irate husbands cornering my grandfather from time to time. I may have been young, but it wasn't long before I knew what everyone meant when they talked about his indiscretions. Has Sally told you yet? About the reason behind the insane amount of silver Nan is having you list?"
Holland sucked in a sharp breath.
"Yeah. With every trip he'd bring Nan a gift more elaborate than the last. The family used to comment on it, how sweet it was, how much he treasured her, but I overheard my grandfather talking to my father about how his Paris mistress picked out Nan's gifts. The woman worked at the business and of course earned a commission for the sales."
Holland closed her eyes briefly. "What a thing for a kid to overhear. That's horrible."
"I never looked at my grandfather the same after that. I could never treat my wife that way. Marriage is meant to be honored. Respected. The saying that the grass is greener is ridiculous because it's greener where you water it."
Not long after Max uttered those words, he said her name.
"I said we'd go dancing and we didn't. Would you like to?"
He tilted his head toward the opposite side of the room and she accepted the invitation with a ready nod. "Love to."
Max held her hand as he guided her onto the dance floor. He took her into his arms, held her against his strength, and she reveled in the feel of whatever it was happening between them. Too fast. Too risky. But real?
They danced for several songs. He held her hand to his chest, his other hand at the small of her back, searing her. His lips brushed against her temple from time to time, and she turned her face into his jawline and closed her eyes.
Was it wrong for her to want his business in town to drag on as long as possible so this didn't end?
"What are you thinking?"
She tilted her head back, nuzzling his strong jaw in the process. "Wishing I could freeze time."
His fingers tightened at her waist, on the hand he held to his chest.
"Me, too."
But as they moved and swayed to the music, time ticked on and the night grew darker outside the oceanfront windows.
"Ready to head back?"
Back. Not home. Because this wasn't Max's home. It was barely hers as much as she traveled. Neither of them really had a place to land. Called somewhere home. "Whenever you are."
They were making their way to the door when someone called Holland's name. She turned to find Ireland and Dominic walking toward them at a brisk pace.
"Siste
r?"
Max breathed the word close to her ear and she shivered even as she nodded.
"You resemble each other."
"Hi," Ireland said, smiling at Holland and giving her a brief hug before turning her full attention to Max. "Who's this?"
"Uhh…"
"Maximilian Bane."
Holland saw the slight widening of Ireland's eyes when Max's name registered.
"Dominic and Ireland Sage. Pleasure," Dominic said, shaking Max's hand.
"You two looked like you were having fun on the dance floor," Ireland said.
"We were," Holland said, giving her sister a pointed glare to mind her questions. And her manners. "But we were just leaving."
"Oh. I'd hoped you'd join us for dessert."
Max looked at her as though leaving the decision in her hands but Holland quickly shook her head. "I'm sorry. We have to go."
"Another time," Max stated politely.
Ireland reluctantly said goodbye and Holland knew she would pay for the quick exit later.
Outside the restaurant, Max handed the ticket to the valet and they waited for the twentysomething to bring the SUV.
"Is there a particular reason you forgot my name and didn't want to join them?"
She hugged her arms around her front and pinned a smile to her lips. "Just trying to avoid sisterly intrusion."
Max's gaze narrowed on her as though he didn't believe the excuse, but she wasn't able to form a better one. Lying was never her thing, and truth was, she'd wanted to join them, to sit across the table from them and laugh and talk and be a couple, out with another couple.
But they weren't. And who knew if they ever could be given their complicated lives. Wishes and wants weren't reality. And Max's identity, his very being, was a complication all on its own.
Max drove them back to Violet's and she wondered if this was what it would be like as a couple. This quiet moment. Dinner dates and the like. Was it possible with their lifestyles? Her job? His work both in business and with his charities? Or was she dreaming of the old-fashioned kind of lost love that was no longer found? The kind depicted in old movies that people today thought so unrealistic.
Max walked her to her bedroom door and left her with another set of breath-stealing kisses that rocked her world and made her dream of impossible things. Then he walked away and she wondered—too late—if it was wise to get as involved as she was because it meant watching him walk away a lot.
Was she really falling for a man who traveled to dangerous areas, who was periodically shot at because of drug lords? Where men like Max were kidnapped and ransomed? The places that needed help most, the places Max liked to go, weren't safe. Could she live with that?
What happened to loving fast? Living life a moment at a time?
Holland entered her bedroom and changed into a sleep shirt before grabbing her phone. Normally the sister version of a 911 call meant meeting with all four of them at the dream catcher mailbox to discuss whatever was on their minds, but given the distance and time of night and the fact she wanted to keep her private life as private as possible, she had to settle for a text.
I'm sorry we didn't stay and have dessert.
Maximilian Bane??? Ireland texted.
I know. Trust me. I do. Just… tell me no.
If you know it’s probably a bad idea, why do you need to hear it?
Holland closed her eyes and tried to find the words. Because I'm falling hard.
FAST.
And his life is way more complicated than mine. It's doomed. Why am I doing this to myself?
He must be something special if that's the case.
Or maybe I'm just setting myself up to fail with a man who isn’t like his peers?
Holl, falling in love isn't failing.
It is when you know it'll end in a broken heart.
Does it have to? Are you seeing red flags or panicking over something that hasn't happened yet?
He spends most of his time in Africa helping those who need it most. It's dangerous, it's scary. It's admirable and unselfish and heroic and sexy as all get out. But to be with him…
Silence. Holland could almost see Ireland's puckered eyebrows as she pondered the text Holland had sent. Holland waited. And waited. Finally the little dots indicating Ireland typed appeared.
We love who we love. Be present NOW. Enjoy NOW. Don't worry about tomorrow. You can't do more than that.
Holland stared at the phone. Violet's sweet young romance was proof of those very statements. Who knew what tomorrow would bring?
Who knew what would happen next?
Chapter 9
Several days later, Max sat in the second-floor living room with his grandmother while waiting on Holland to appear for their evening out. While Holland spent her days photographing and researching and writing the descriptions for the many pieces of silver and items his grandmother wanted to consign, she spent her evenings with him. They'd gone out to dinners, taken a walk on the beach and had a picnic, and perused an art museum. But he was all too aware of the fact Holland had started avoiding the subject of his grandmother's request to search for Akihiro because they couldn't come to terms.
Nan sipped a cup of herbal tea and stared at him over the rim of the delicate cup.
"You're frowning, dear, and looking quite fierce. What are you pondering so? Your business dealings?"
He inhaled and sat forward in the chair, elbows to knees and hands clasped in front of him while he broached the touchy subject he'd avoided for far too long. "Nan, I want to ask you something and I want you to tell me the truth. Are you okay?"
"What do you mean, dear?"
"Are you having health issues? Are you worried about something financial?" he asked. "Is there a reason you've decided to hire Holland's company and pursue this thing with Akihiro that you haven't shared?"
"Oh, Max. I am perfectly fine. For all his faults, your grandfather provided well for me. And I don't have any medical issue beyond what anyone my age has. But these things," she said, lifting a hand toward the dining area where Sally sat polishing the silver Holland had yet to photograph, "they're ugly to me and they make me sad. I should've gotten rid of them long ago, and I love the idea of using the money to find my first love. It seems… fitting. I know you don't agree but that's how I feel. Even if it makes you uncomfortable."
He nodded slowly and reached out to lightly squeeze her knee. "I may not agree, but I love you."
"I love you, too, my dear boy. Now, what are your plans for Holland this evening?"
Max met his grandmother's too-knowing gaze and grinned. "It's a surprise. Something I hope she will enjoy."
"Hmm. You're spending a lot of time together. And don't think my old eyes haven't caught the looks you two exchange."
Max leaned back in the chair and waited for his grandmother to continue. "She's… different. Special."
"That she is. I'm glad you see it as well. Holland is very grounded, isn't she? Down-to-earth. She isn't a spoiled socialite or Ivy League princess know-it-all. I like her. Holland comes from a very normal background, and for what my opinion is worth, I think she's good for you."
He winked at Nan. "Once again, we agree. I've… enjoyed my time with Holland."
His grandmother's thin eyebrows rose high on her forehead.
"Oh? Dare I hope your time together leads to more between you?"
Max rose from the chair and bussed a kiss across his grandmother's forehead. "It's been less than a week, Nan."
She grasped his hand and held him in position. "If it's right, you know it, Max. Just like I knew it was love with Aki. It happens like that sometimes."
He didn't want to argue with his grandmother when he was getting ready to leave, so he changed the subject to the news of his sister's pregnancy, his mother's latest diet, and then went on to his plans to help Uncle Jack build a school for girls.
"Am I interrupting?"
Max got to his feet and turned, sucking in a breath at Holland's beauty. She wo
re black leggings and short boots, a silky-looking top, and her leather jacket. Like always she looked casual but dressy enough for pretty much anywhere he might take her to. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you."
He felt the sweep of her brown gaze on him as she took in his jeans and Henley, and wondered if she felt the same singe of heat as he did when he looked at her. "Ready?"
"Yes. Violet, I hope you have a pleasant evening."
"Likewise, dear. You and Max have fun. Oh, Holland? Have you had any luck finding Aki?"
Max was in the process of crossing the room toward Holland and saw how she quickly glanced at him, visibly uncomfortable.
"Um, not yet, Violet, no. But I am looking."
"I know you are, dear. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Max gently grasped her elbow and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "Ready for your surprise?" Maybe it was rude not to acknowledge the exchange that just took place, but he didn't want to start their evening off on a sour note.
"I do like surprises."
He chuckled at her grin and steered her toward the stairs.
"Are you going to tell me where we're going?"
"You'll see," he said, escorting her to the passenger side of his SUV. Once in, he closed the door and sent a text to his contact, alerting them that they were on their way.
Holland chatted about a conversation she'd had with one of her sisters, and he asked a few more questions about the company she worked for and the process of listing his grandmother's things. They approached their destination and he glanced at Holland before making an abrupt right into the park.
"What? Seriously?"
He chuckled at her expression and drove up to the gate of the now closed go-kart track. "Ready to let loose of that speed you're trying to bottle up?"
"Yes, but… it's closed."
"For us. You."
She blinked at the statement, her lips parting and tempting him beyond his restraint. He leaned across the console and stole a quick kiss, lingering once he tasted her.
"I can't believe you did this. Max…"
She grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him back, kissing him hard and fast and with enough enthusiasm to make him want to stay in the vehicle to see what came next. When they came up for air, they both breathed heavily. "Come on. I want to see you in action."
