Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(23)

He sighed, roughed a hand over his jaw. “Thinking . . . four hundred. Maybe five. You’re going to need some new parts. I have a friend I can get in touch with . . . might be able to pull in a favor.”

I probably shouldn’t be taking favors from Maxon Chambers. But was I really gonna be bitter enough to turn down that offer?

“That would be really nice.”

He smiled. Smiled one of his soft, tender smiles. The one that moved through my senses like a cool breeze after he’d heated me up with everything else. “I’d be happy to.”

“Thank you, again. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t find me out here.”

“Hoof it in those heels for ten miles?” A playful grin worked itself onto his lush mouth, that dimple showing up in his cheek just to make my life a little more miserable.

Gentle laughter rippled out, unstoppable, and I was chewing at my lip again, trying with all of me to keep from goin’ soft.

We just stood there staring for a minute, gazes tangled, our tongues holding back so many words.

So much time had passed, and the mistakes littered between us were almost palpable, nothing but mountains and cliffs and caverns. Was there any chance we could find common ground?

I pushed out a sigh and shook myself from the thoughts. “I really should get going. Thank you, again.”

Why was it so hard to walk away from him?

Don’t do this, Izzy. Don’t let your heart get wrapped up in him. It isn’t a safe place.

“All right. I’ll give you a call on Monday. Let you know when I talk to Dalton. He owns a shop in Charleston. Your parents still have the same number?”

I laughed out a small laugh. “Um, yeah. Neither of them even have a cell phone.”

Something wistful pulled across his face. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

I just shook my head, fighting the grin that felt more dangerous than anything.

“Hope they’re doing well, Izzy. Just like I hope you are, too.” He started to walk around me, and then paused, right there, looking at me from the side, though I could see the way his thick throat was bobbing in unease.

“Can’t believe you’re here. Never thought I’d get the chance to say sorry to you. For what I did. For being a coward. But I want you to know, I’ve thought about you every single day. Every single day. Every single one of them was spent praying that you were okay. That you were happy. Know it doesn’t make up for anything, but I need you to know that.”

His words were raw—grating—the pain coming from them almost knocking me to my knees.

Emotion fisted in my throat, and I couldn’t say anything, only gave him a tight nod and tried not to breathe him in as he offered me another apologetic smile and started for his SUV.

Panic built up in me the farther he got away.

“Maxon,” I shouted before I could stop myself.

He paused, his shoulders going rigid as he swiveled to look back at me.

“You want to come for lunch tomorrow?”

A frown of surprise pulled all over his face.

“I think there are some things we need to talk about,” I said.

“You want to talk to me?” He sounded shocked.

“Yeah,” I told him.

His frown deepened, and I quickly added, “My mama is making blueberry pie.”

That was all it took to have an affected smile ticking up at one side of those lips. “My favorite.”

I gave another nod.

Awareness spun between us, a storm that churned and spiraled and sucked me right in, the way it’d always been. What I needed to remember was that nothing would be the same.

“I’d love that,” he said.

“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow at one.”

I climbed into my car, soul crashing against my ribs. I sucked in the deepest breath and pulled out onto the road, hoping beyond hope that I wasn’t making a huge mistake.





Seven





Mack





You had to wonder why some asshole always went and ruined your day.

Especially when I was in the middle of one that had sparked a hope in me unlike anything I’d felt in a long, long time. Izzy just . . . standing in front of me and making me feel like everything could turn out right. Helped a bit that she’d invited me over for her mama’s blueberry pie.

She might as well have been passing me an olive branch.

But that’s just the way life went, wasn’t it?

You had to take the good with the bad.

And when you were a cop, you spent your life taking on a whole lot of the bad.

Proof of that was I was more than halfway home, minding my own business, when a car came blazing out of a side street just as I was making it back into Charleston.

My attention whipped that way, watching as a late model BMW blew the stop sign coming out of a neighborhood, fishtailing as it hit the main road.

They gunned it going the opposite direction.

Doing about double the speed limit.

Switching on my lights and siren, I flipped a U in the road. Could feel my skin getting sticky, hit with the unsettled feeling I got whenever things weren’t quite right.

An intuition that had saved my ass more times than I could count.

I grabbed my radio. “Detective Chambers, lights and sirens, pursuing late model BMW. Requesting back up.” I rattled off the license plate and my location. I got confirmation, and I floored it, the big engine of my Suburban roaring.