Lovers at Heart, Reimagined (The Bradens)

by Melissa Foster

  “Go ahead. I’ll catch up!” Treat heard someone yell. He blinked away the memories and headed down the beach toward the first bonfire. Might as well get this over with.

  A few minutes later he heard his name from behind.

  He turned, expecting to see Chuck. Smitty stood a few feet away, carrying an armful of blankets. Treat walked back through the dense sand and took the blankets from Smitty’s arms.

  He embraced his old friend. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “Oh, you know Vicky. Any excuse for a party.” Smitty’s white hair looked almost gray in the moonlight. “Are you with our bonfire tonight?”

  “I don’t know. I’m looking for Chuck and Bonnie Holtz.”

  Smitty shook his head. “They’re not with our group.” He scanned the people closest to them. “Isn’t that them right there?” He pointed to a couple roasting marshmallows around the nearest bonfire.

  “Your eyes are better than mine. I think you might be right.”

  “Treat!”

  Treat groaned at the sight of Amanda, the daughter of Bonnie’s friend, who had been at dinner with them. He’d made it clear that he was not on the market, but she was like a gnat, refusing to be deterred.

  “Looks like you have a lady friend waiting for you. Here. Give me the blankets and go join your party.” Smitty reached for the blankets.

  “That’s okay. I’ll bring them to your bonfire.” Anything to avoid Amanda.

  Smitty yanked the blankets from his arms, eyeing the woman who was heading their way with a determined look on her face. “That one’s not taking no for an answer. We’re the last bonfire down on the left. Stop by later, and bring your friend if you’d like.”

  “She’s not my friend!” Treat called after him.

  Half an hour later, Treat could no longer stomach Amanda, even to spend time with his friends. She was clingy and vile, offering to do all sorts of dirty things to him and refusing to accept his gentlemanly denials. She was so persistent that he half expected to hear, All that for a cool five hundred dollars. He was on the verge of telling her flat-out, I will not ever sleep with you. He’d never had to go that far before. Then again, he’d never been so in love with one woman that he’d turn down another.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Amanda said as she pawed at his arm. “If you’ll take a walk with me—one walk.” She leaned closer and whispered, “I promise you, I’ll rock your world. I’ll be your treat.”

  Treat gritted his teeth against his anger. He could have a string of nameless, faceless women if he wanted them. But now he knew what it was like to feel more than lust, to look into someone’s eyes and want much more than sexual gratification—a lifetime of smiles and handholding, breakfasts, and yes, saucy, sumptuous, scorching-hot nights of lovemaking. Enough was enough.

  “Excuse me,” he said for the hundredth time, and walked away from Amanda, making a beeline for Chuck. Why did he have to be such a gentleman? He smiled to himself with the thought. It was the same question Max had asked.

  “Chuck, I had a great time, but I really have to run. Bonnie, you know I think the world of you, but you should think twice before inviting Amanda out again. She’s a bit aggressive.”

  Bonnie flushed. “I’m sorry. I had no idea you were taken until you told us over dinner, and by then it was too late to uninvite her.”

  “It’s okay, though I’m surprised you’d think I’d be interested in someone like her.”

  “I guess I thought that a guy like you was used to women throwing themselves at him,” Bonnie explained.

  “Yes, but have you ever seen me take any of them up on their offers? For that matter, have you ever seen me with a woman since you’ve known me?”

  “Well, no,” she admitted.

  He put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “Then please don’t underestimate me.” He patted Chuck on the arm. “Thanks, buddy. We’ll catch up soon.”

  Treat headed down the beach toward Smitty’s bonfire to say a quick hello and get back to his bungalow to call Max.

  MAX PULLED THE top layer of a roasted marshmallow off and put it in her mouth, then licked the sticky goodness from her fingers. It had been ages since she’d roasted marshmallows, and she was having a wonderful time talking with Vicky and her friends. She’d had a few cups of wine and she was feeling good. This was just what she needed. A little time to destress and pull herself together after her long trip.

  As much as she loved the mountains of Colorado, there was something about being by the water that made her feel good all over. A young family was walking down the beach, two children running ahead with their toes in the water, while the parents walked arm in arm. She allowed herself a momentary fantasy of having a future, and a family, with Treat. She was getting miles ahead of herself, but she couldn’t escape the hope in her heart.

  Smitty nudged Vicky’s arm and said, “I forgot to tell you who I ran into.”

  “God himself?” Vicky teased.

  “Sort of. Treat Braden.”

  Max choked on her marshmallow.

  Vicky patted her on the back. “Get her a drink! Quick, Chris.”

  Chris handed her a bottle of wine, which Max chugged, and when she stopped choking, she drank some more to calm her nerves, until she’d downed nearly half the bottle. Her heart was racing as she tried to figure out how to surprise him. Should she run down the beach and into his arms? Or be coy about it and sneak up, as he had to her in the parking lot after work? She remembered Kaylie’s advice and decided calm, cool, and collected was probably the most seductive way to make her entrance. This is going to be the best surprise ever!

  “A little thirsty, Max?” Vicky said with a curious smile.

  “Sorry. Thank you. Did you say ‘Treat Braden’?” she asked.

  “Yes. You know him?” Chris asked.

  Her pulse spiked. “Yes, I know him very well.” I’m in love with him. Max looked down the beach, but it was too dark to make out anything more than basic figures. “Tall guy, handsome as the day is long?” Long as the day is handsome!

  “He’s got a place here in Wellfleet. I’ve known his family for years.” Chris laughed. “He still calls me Smitty, like his pop does. It was a nickname I had as a younger man.”

  “A much younger man,” Vicky teased. “If I’m reading that spark in your eyes correctly, I’d think that Treat might be the reason you’re here.”

  Max grinned and pushed to her feet, swaying a little from the wine. “You’d be reading me perfectly. I think I’ll just go to the bathroom and freshen up before I go looking for him. It’s in the parking lot, right?”

  “I’ll go with you.” Vicky popped up from her chair.

  “No. I can manage. Thank you, though.” She started for the dunes. She climbed the sandy ramp to the parking lot and found the small cinder-block bathroom. Inside, she flicked on the light and stood in front of the mirror, staring at her glassy eyes. Her cheeks were pink from the alcohol, but she didn’t care. She was beyond happy. Her surprise was going to work out after all.

  She fluffed her hair, turned her face one way, then the other, narrowed her eyes, and then opened them wide again. She’d never considered herself to be someone special, but Treat thought she was, and that made her believe she just might be. She washed her hands, excited to surprise him, and headed out to find her man.

  She scanned the beach, spotting his height first, and her hand flew to her heart. Look at him. He took her breath away. She started down the ramp, her gaze trained on Treat as he strode down the beach. A blonde ran after him calling his name, and Max’s stomach pitched. She stilled as Treat stopped in his tracks and the blonde touched his arm.

  “Hey. Don’t touch him,” Max said aloud, though too quietly for anyone else to hear, and started down the steep incline.

  She spotted Vicky approaching Treat as the blonde moved in front of him and tugged him down by his shirt. It was such a possessive move, Max stumbled and fell to her butt on the hard sand at the s
ame moment the blonde pressed her lips to Treat’s cheek.

  Treat turned in Max’s direction, and for a beat she couldn’t breathe. She could only see Treat’s silhouette, but she swore the air between them electrified. What was going on? Who was that witch? No, no, no, no, no! This could not be happening. Not with Treat.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “MAX!” VICKY YELLED, running to help her to her feet.

  Max was too stunned to move, watching as Treat grabbed the blonde by her shoulders and said something Max couldn’t hear, but his body language told her all she needed to know as he hulked over her, moving rigidly, not languid and loving the way he was with Max. He released the woman’s arms and strode directly toward the ramp, falling into step beside Vicky.

  “Way to go, Treat. That woman’s got a fairly loose reputation,” Vicky said.

  “She deserves it.” Treat’s gaze locked on Max. Grief and confusion riddled his handsome face as she pushed to her feet and he rushed to her side. “Max…? What are you doing here? That wasn’t what it looked like. I can explain.”

  “Like it wasn’t what I thought when you saw me with Justin?” she asked, brushing sand from her butt.

  “Yes!” Treat insisted. “Exactly like that.”

  “One minute you’re professing your love to me and the next you’re making out with a strange blonde,” she said teasingly. The glint of relief in his eyes told her he knew she wasn’t angry, but still she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “No wonder this is your favorite place. You probably have a woman at every port.”

  “Max?” Vicky said. “Honey, I’ve known Treat since he was a boy. We see him when he’s in town. We know his whole family, and he isn’t who you think he is.”

  “See? Even she knows what you’re like,” Max teased.

  “No, Max. He’s not the person you think he is. It’s none of my business, and I’ll leave you two alone to hash this out in a second, but first…” She turned to Treat. “She’s the sweetest, kindest woman I have met in a long time.”

  “I know,” Treat said as he slid an arm around her waist.

  “Max,” Vicky continued, “Treat has women after him all the time. Of course he does. Just look at him.”

  “He’s a hot one,” Max said.

  “It’s a wonder he can go anywhere looking like that. But he’s a gentleman. He doesn’t have a girl in this port. I’ve never seen him bring a woman here, or even date a woman here, and he’s no spring chicken.”

  Max giggled. Treat scowled.

  “That’s a lot of years without a steady woman on his arm.” Vicky took Max’s hand and said, “Max, he’s your tiller.” She nodded. “Trust me.”

  Vicky kissed his cheek, and then said in a hushed tone, “Hurt her and I’ll kill you. I want a front seat at the wedding.”

  “Thank you for everything, Vicky.” Max hugged her. “I know all those things you said about Treat. This was what I call Treat’s Justin-by-the-elevator moment.”

  “I don’t even want to know what that means, honey, but by the look in your eyes, I’d say it’s a good thing.”

  When Vicky walked away, Treat cocked a brow and said, “There’s only you, Max.”

  “I know. I’m tipsy, but not too drunk to see the truth.” The truth wasn’t what Max expected. She’d assumed the worst not because of Treat, but because of those ghosts rattling the chains in her closet.

  “What are you doing here, baby?”

  “I wanted to surprise you, but I kind of suck at surprises. I had no idea where you lived or anything.”

  “Efficient Max didn’t have a plan? A map of every house on the Cape?”

  “It’s not funny!” she snapped.

  “No, it’s not. Some might say it’s fate. You know what this means, don’t you?” he asked as he gathered her in his arms. “You were thinking with your heart.”

  “That seems to be the only part of me that works when I’m thinking about you.”

  “Well, then.” He scooped her into his arms, making her laugh with elation as he carried her up the ramp and said, “I plan to inspect every one of your parts to see if that’s true.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  TREAT CARRIED MAX into his bungalow and laid her on the couch, despite her protests. He slipped off her shoes and covered her with the softest blanket Max had ever felt, and then he went to work making a fire.

  “I am not an invalid, you know,” she said, though she was tired. Treat had retrieved her bags from her car, and refused to let her worry about anything—including her car, which he promised would be fine in the parking lot at the beach.

  “You’ve had a long day and a little wine, and I have been starved for you since I left you last night.” He blew her a kiss and said, “Rest up so I can wear you out later.”

  She liked the idea of that. As she watched him make the fire, she wondered how hearts were so resilient. Her love for him was so big she felt like she was drowning in it. But she knew that wasn’t what was suffocating her. It was the ghosts of her past creeping into the future she wanted. Putting unnecessary cracks in the foundation she and Treat were creating. How could she ever completely trust again without understanding what she’d done, or hadn’t done, to cause the pain of her past?

  She looked around the cozy room, which was not much bigger than her apartment but much nicer, with a stone fireplace that went up two stories and a cathedral ceiling. Besides the couch, the room boasted only a coffee table and bookshelves to match, both intricately carved from wood and painted white. She was glad to see the bookshelves not only full of books, but also decorated with knickknacks and candles, much like her own. There were family pictures, too, and that made her ache a little for thinking for even a second that a man who was so loyal and had been so honest would have intentionally hurt her. That wasn’t in Treat’s nature. She believed that all the way to her core, and for the first time ever, she thought about tracking down Ryan and trying to gain closure.

  But she didn’t want to think about that ugliness now. She didn’t want Ryan to have the power to ruin anything else with Treat, or anything in her life in general, so she focused on her surroundings again. There was a staircase between the kitchen and the living room, and she assumed it led to the bedroom. She closed her eyes, and her mind traveled to that bedroom and the closeness she knew would come. She felt the couch dip beside her and opened her eyes, finding Treat gazing lovingly down at her.

  “Are you warm enough?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  He caressed her cheek and said, “I’m going to run a bath for you.”

  Just the thought of being submerged beneath warm water eased her tension, but hearing the love in Treat’s voice comforted her even more.

  “Thank you,” she said. “But you don’t have to spoil me so much. I should be spoiling you.”

  He pressed his lips to hers in a long, scintillating kiss. “Don’t ever worry that I’d choose someone else over you. I promised I’d never hurt you, and you can count on that promise.”

  “It wasn’t really you I doubted. I knew in my heart you would never hurt me, but there was this instant fear that trampled through me. I realized pretty quickly that it was my inability to trust my own instincts, and I know that comes from my past. But I’m trying to figure out how to get those ghosts to stay in the past.”

  His expression grew serious. “We’ll figure this out, babe. There’s nothing we can’t figure out together.”

  He went upstairs, returning a few minutes later. He scooped her into his arms again, and although it went against every fiber of her being to be carried, she cuddled against him, allowing herself to enjoy his pampering.

  The smell of warm vanilla filled the spacious candle-lit bathroom. Treat set her down on the ceramic floor, and she longed to be back in his arms. The idea of taking a warm bath seemed wonderfully decadent. When she looked in the mirror, Treat’s intimate gaze sent a sobering dose of reality through her, and she vowed that come hell or high water, she would find a
way to put her past behind them.

  She took a step toward him, and he slipped her sweatshirt from her shoulders and laid it neatly on the counter next to a basket of soaps and lotions. She lifted her arms as he took off her shirt and bra.

  “You’re even more beautiful in the candlelight,” he said.

  She unbuttoned his shirt and said, “So are you.”

  They stripped off the rest of their clothes, and Max had to close her eyes against the primal urges spreading through her like wildfire. When he took off her glasses, she opened her eyes, meeting his steady gaze.

  “Sweetness,” he whispered in a voice full of lust as he drew her naked body against his and kissed her deeply.

  He guided her to the tub and helped her in before he stepped in behind her and settled her back against his chest. She closed her eyes as he washed her arms with a warm, soapy cloth and gathered her hair, placing it over one shoulder. He bathed her shoulder and neck so tenderly, she melted against him. He washed each of her fingers, her palms, her wrists.

  “Relax,” he whispered as she leaned forward, hoping to turn and wash him, but he gently brought her back to his chest again. “Let me love you.”

  He washed along the bend of her hip and slowly down to the crest of both knees, and then he bathed her lower belly, caressing her rib cage, hips, and inner thighs. Max closed her eyes. His body held her as a willing captive, creating a loving cocoon that made her feel small and feminine—and very desirous.

  He wrapped his arms around her middle, touching his cheek to hers. His breath warmed her damp shoulders, and Max wanted to stay right there, with his heart beating against her back, forever.