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“No.”Thank God.
“But someone you knew well enough to fall into bed with…” His eyes lit up and he leaned forward. “What was that kid’s name, the one whose family is such good friends with yours?”
Max cleared his throat, damning his friend’s intuition. He wasn’t quite ready to introduce Chris to Anna. They were too much alike, and damn it all, he had to admit, he worried Chris would intrigue her. Good looks, easygoing personality…
“Anna.”
“Yes. That’s the one, right?”
Max nodded. “Yeah.”
Chris hooted with laughter. “I knew you had a thing for her then.”
Max frowned at him. “You did not. How the hell would you have known something like that?”
“Well, one, you just admitted it.” Chris smiled and leaned back in his chair again. “But you got back to Augusta after a trip down here and insisted on drinking yourself into a stupor, very strange for Maxwell Chandler. Then, while we were out, you proceeded to eloquently tell me how much you wanted to sleep with her.”
Stunned, Max stared at him. “I did not.”
“Yeah, brother, you did. But I cleaned up your comments. You actually used another word for the action.”
Nonplussed, Max felt the heat of embarrassment creep up his face. “Shit. I can’t believe I did that.”
“I knew you were seriously hung up on the chick when you picked up Diane that night. From what you had said, Anna was the complete opposite in looks. And so were most of the women from then on.”
Was that true? He flipped through his memories, his mind bringing up each woman. They were quiet, unassuming, and usually blonde. None of them held their own opinions on anything. And he hadn’t liked it. He enjoyed a little debate, and he liked a woman who had a spine. They never would have slipped into his office in the middle of the afternoon for a quickie.
He had been dating women who were the opposite of what he really wanted. For a decade.
He glanced at his friend. Chris’ grin told Max he was going to bring this up every chance he got. Still stunned, Max shook his head. “Damn. I can’t believe you never told me.”
“Couldn’t. Goes against some kind of male code about drunken declarations or something. Besides, you talked about her more than you talked about Cynthia. That told me all I needed to know.”
Max grunted and decided to change the subject. “What’s up with Jocelyn?”
All humor fled Chris’ face and demeanor when his sister’s name was mentioned. “Not really sure. There’s just something off and Mama said she needed me to talk to her.” He stood and walked to the window. His gaze became unfocused, and he said, “Something happened, but she won’t let me know what it was. She’s lost a lot of weight, and there was something about the way she was so jumpy…”
Max thought of Chris’ little sister. Chris had dubbed her the OA, the overachiever. Always first in the class, always determined to come out on top. Last time he saw her she was graduating from culinary school—top of her class of course.
“She wouldn’t talk about it?”
Chris shook his head. “I told Mama if Jocelyn wouldn’t talk to her about it, she wasn’t going to talk to me about it.”
“Let me guess, you all argued about it, and she kicked you out.”
Chris looked at him and smiled slightly. “No. We did argue, but she didn’t kick me out. She wasn’t talking to me, and she damn sure wasn’t cooking for me, which sucked. No one on earth can bake like that girl.”
“She’s not a girl any longer.”
Chris made a face. “Yeah, she said that during one of our arguments. She said she would handle it.”
“And she will.”
Chris appeared unconvinced. “There’s something really wrong.”
“There might be. And, knowing you, you’re right on the money. But you know Jocelyn. You push, she’s going to shut you down. Whatever it is, you have to give her time.”
Chris frowned but didn’t say anything. There was a tension emanating from him that Max had never seen before.
