A Season for Second Chances(38)

“Hi,” said Max. He was smiling nervously.

This used to melt Annie’s heart. Now it made her want to slap his stupid lips off. He reached an arm out and moved forward tentatively as though to hug her. Annie stepped back, and his face fell. She tried not to care.

“Which of our children caved in and gave you my address?” said Annie. “I haven’t told anybody but them where I’m staying.”

Max shifted his weight from one foot to the other and hugged his arms to himself.

“Chilly this morning,” he said. “I think the weather’s turning.”

“Which one?” asked Annie.

“Don’t be mad,” said Max.

No one in the history of ever had begun a conversation with that phrase unless they’d done something that was guaranteed to make the other person mad. Annie said nothing, just stared at him and waited. Max looked at the floor and dragged one foot back and forth along the shingle, making a groove in the pebbles.

“When the boys came to help you move in,” said Max, still not looking at her, “I, um, checked in on the GPS on their phones.”

Dammit! He was stalking her via stalking their children.

“Do you not see how devious that is?” asked Annie. “Not to mention creepy.”

“Some might call it caring,” said Max. “I still care about your well-being. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“And is your mind at rest now?” asked Annie. “If you really cared about my well-being, you wouldn’t have made me penniless.”

Max shrugged. “It seems like a nice area,” he said ignoring the barb about money. “A bit remote for my tastes.”

“Luckily, your tastes are no longer my concern,” said Annie.

“You’re out early,” said Max.

She was caught off guard. She hadn’t expected her walk of shame to be interrupted by her husband.

“Oh, well, yes,” she said. “It’s a nice morning for a walk.”

Max looked at her. “You’ve got makeup all down your face,” he said.

“I came out before my shower,” said Annie. “I wanted to catch the sunrise.”

Max stared at her for a long moment, and Annie met his gaze squarely.

“You didn’t go out early at all, did you?” said Max. “You didn’t come home last night!”

Annie pulled her shoulders back. “So what if I didn’t?” she said.

“You’ve barely been here a week,” said Max.

“Don’t you dare judge me, Max Sharpe!” said Annie. “Don’t you even dare. You’ve got some nerve.”

Max backed down instantly and hung his head. “I understand,” he said in a quiet voice. “You’re trying to spite me. And you’ve every right to.”

“I am not trying to spite you!” said Annie. “How big is your ego?”

This wasn’t strictly true. Although revenge hadn’t been foremost in her mind, she couldn’t deny that she’d taken a good deal of satisfaction from having attracted someone so soon after leaving Max. But it had been more than that. Paul’s hands on her body had felt cleansing; Annie had flirted and gotten high with and kissed a relative stranger, and he’d been only too happy to oblige.

Annie realized Max was still looking down at her. His big eyes were bright with hurt and, to her surprise, smoldering. Annie realized with horror that she had unintentionally made herself more desirable to her husband than ever before. Oh, shit! thought Annie. Now there’ll be double wooing.

“I’ve brought you something,” said Max. His voice was low, gentle yet coaxing. Annie knew this voice. She knew all his voices.

“Divorce papers?” she asked. “Access to my own bank accounts?”

Max flinched. If they gave out awards for looking hurt after behaving like a bastard, Max would win, hands—and pants—down.

Max opened the passenger door and pulled out a wicker cat basket. A hissing sound came from inside. Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle pressed her ginger face against the barred door. She looked severely pissed off.

“Tiggs!” cried Annie.

Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle let out a mournful meow.

“I thought you might like some company,” said Max. “She was always more your cat than mine.”

Annie took the basket from Max. “Thank you, Max.”

“I brought her litter box and a few packets of her favorite food. I wasn’t sure if there were any shops nearby.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Shall I help you in with these things?” asked Max.

“No, thank you,” said Annie. “If you could carry the bags to the steps, I can take it from there.”

“It’s no bother,” said Max, pulling three large shopping bags out of the back seat of his car.

“I’m sure it isn’t. But as we’ve already discussed, I haven’t been home all night. I’d like to get in and get cleaned up. But thank you for the offer.”

Annie didn’t want him in her house. This was her place. Unsullied by Max in any way. Uncharacteristically, Max didn’t push it. He followed Annie through the little gate, along the garden path, and up the steps at the front door, stopping three steps lower than Annie.