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The arm circling me tightens, Max’s demeanour calmly confident.
I go with it.
I reach for my glass and the Dutch courage contained within it, my focus fixed on Ben across the table. He’s been quiet tonight, but I made a point of being polite whenever we engaged in shared conversation. His face tells me he’s sorry for upsetting me, and maybe he seems less agitated tonight. I hope so. I hope whatever’s troubling him passes soon. Heaven knows I needed a huge grace period myself not that long ago. When you carry something heavy on your shoulders you never know how you’re going to react. I’ve had to make numerous apologies to well-meaning people for my erratic behaviour.
Pinewood Cabin is the mirror opposite of ours, and when we clear up after dinner and head to the familiar-looking sofas, Max grabs my hand and tugs me in to the snuggler seat. It’s a cosy fit, the minuscule gap between our bodies barely noticeable. Nevertheless, he drapes an arm around my waist and relaxes into the plush velvet seat, his expression one of consummate gratification.
I don’t mean to be scientific about how and where I touch him, but I silently ask myself what I’m comfortable with. What can I test? So I lean into him, my left arm behind his back where I force myself to grab hold of a belt loop. I place my right palm on his right thigh—midway—nothing too high or daring, and look at my hand resting there. It’s strange to see it there, touching him, but it doesn’t make me feel anxious.
Max’s body radiates ferocious heat. The muscles under my palm turn his leg from something useful and arbitrary to something steel-like and powerful. To a weapon of strength, capable of pinning a woman down.
I try not to think about that.
Josie and Jen can’t keep the huge smiles off their faces. Tabi, I think, is trying not to say anything inappropriate.
After an hour of booze-filled conversation, Tabi suggests they all get in the hot tub. “I’ve got two bottles of vodka in the freezer if anyone’s in.”
Everyone seems in. Except, “We’ll join in a bit,” Max says, and then turns to me, murmuring, “Can we talk for a sec?”
“Hmm mm.”
While the others get ready, Max retrieves an unfinished bottle of champagne and hands me a new glass.
Without question I take it, but the thought that we’re alone here, and I’m a little tipsy, is on the back of my mind.
He clinks my glass with his. “To Shropshire.”
“To Shropshire,” I echo, returning his gentle smile. I like how easy it is to relax around him, his character one that brings you along with him, whatever the ride.
After silencing his ringing mobile, he settles next to me, our bodies wedged together. “I’m assuming Josie told you what she overheard earlier.”
I nod.
“If you’ve got questions, ask them. I don’t want anything holding us back.”
His bold statement knocks the breath from my lungs, but I ask, “Is Max your brother-in-law, and why did he seem upset that you told me that?”
“He is, and he was upset because although he and my sister aren’t together right now, he has a hero complex and wants to help you. I think he likes you,” he adds quietly.
I open my mouth and then close it, not sure what to say. The idea of being saved is one I want to reject where Ben is concerned, even if it comes from a good place.
“I don’t need to be saved,” I murmur. “I’m doing okay on my own.”
Max nods, his expression thoughtful. “I can’t fault his interest; you’re an incredibly beautiful woman, and you’ve had me thinking about you for weeks, working out how to pluck up the courage to do more than smile at you or saymorningwhen running by. Last night, I went to bed and couldn’t sleep for thinking of you.”
His words fill me with confidence. “It’s not him I’m sharing a stupidly small chair with.”
That addicting chuckle arrives, my smile emerging at the rich sound. “That’s true. But rest assured he’s a good guy. You don’t need to be afraid of him.”
“But you wouldn’t want him messing around with me?” I push.
He studies me. Our heads are so close it’s impossible to hide from his scrutiny, or him mine. “If you like him, I’d be gutted. Do you?”
Instantly, I shake my head.
He gathers my hand again to play with my fingers, and I’m so pleased my recent manicure is living up to the scrutiny he gives them. “I’m serious when I say I want to take you out.”
“I’d like that too, but first, I need to know more about you, Max. I hope you understand why.”
