Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(66)

Oh, Maxon Chambers would take me for a ride, all right.

“I have children to worry about.”

“And I had Bailey,” she told me, looking at me with an expression that said so what?

“Don’t you dare tell me you sat back and didn’t worry about a thing when Jace showed back up in your life. I know you were terrified,” I pointed out.

“And what if I’d let that fear and worry stop me from finding my heart’s joy? My dream? There are times in our lives when we have to trust that things are going to turn out right.”

“I just don’t want my boys to get their hearts broken when he lets them down.”

Faith pointed her fork at me with a wry grin taking hold of her mouth. “I think it’s someone else’s heart that is in the clutch.”

I started to tell her that I couldn’t let his big fingers get any tighter around it when I heard someone calling my name.

I turned in the direction of it to find Dr. Nelson climbing out of his shiny red car. He lifted his hand in the air, sunlight shining around him as he sent me a big smile.

I sent him an awkward half wave.

“Who is that?” Faith all but hissed, angling down low as if we’d stumbled upon some sordid secret.

“My new boss.”

“That is Dr. Nelson? Millie Tomson said he was a looker, but I’d figured she was comparing him to that poor old widower, Mr. Sneed.”

“Oh, he’s no rumor,” I told her.

He strode our direction. Cool, calm, and collected.

“How’s lunch?” he asked as he approached, far too casual, sliding his fingers through his brown hair “It’s great,” I managed. “Enjoying the day with my best friend. This is Faith.” I gestured to Faith who was pretty much gaping. Good thing she was happily married and her husband was just as much of a looker.

“Nice to meet you, Faith. I’m Trevor.” He shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

He turned back to me. “We’ll have to do this sometime. I feel a little left out.”

“Oh . . . I . . .” I stammered, not having the first clue how to respond to that.

He just smiled and shook his head. “I’ll let you two get back to your lunch.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll get my time with you in a few minutes.”

A sly smile took to his expression.

I sat there stupefied, watching his back as he turned and walked away, just as confident as he’d come.

“Oh. My. God,” Faith whispered. “Someone’s got themselves a crush.”

I turned back to her. “Stop it. He’s just bein’ nice.”

“And you’re just bein’ na?ve,” she shot back. “That man was doing nothin’ less than undressing you with his eyes.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “He’s my boss.”

She waved me off as if it were nothing. “It happens all the time. Throw two people together in the workplace with chemistry, and they go boom. Doesn’t matter the societal tiers this world puts us in. Boss or employee. Superior or inferior. Aren’t we all people at the end of the day? I mean, unless he’s holding the fact he’s your boss over your head, using it against you, then that is an entirely different story.”

“He’s not. Not at all. He’s been nothing but kind.”

“So?” she pressed.

“So what?”

“Are you interested in him? Does he make you feel anything like you felt last night when Mack was sending you flyin’?”

I blinked at her, almost wishing I could say yes.

“You know what they say, never settle for anything less than butterflies,” she added, taking a sip of her tea.

Truth be told, they were completely missin’.

My phone pinged on the table next to me, and my eyes went wide when I saw the text that bleeped through as a tingling flush went slip-sliding through my body.

Maxon: I can’t stop thinking about you. Haven’t in thirteen years. My life never quite made sense without you. Now I know exactly why it was meaningless.





Oh, there were the butterflies she was talkin’ about. Taking flight. Swooping and flapping. Divebombing my good sense.

Faith narrowed her eyes. “Is that him?”

I could barely nod through the lump that formed in my throat.

“Well, I think that’s your answer right there. I should take a picture of what’s on your face right now to save for your wedding day.”





*



It all just went downhill from there.

Maxon: Did you think about me last night when were you falling asleep?





Maxon: Was I on your mind this morning when you woke up like you were on mine?





Maxon: I know you hate me, but there’s a part of you that still loves me too. Do you remember that guy?





Maxon: I want to be him.





Hate him?

No.

Not even close.

That was part of the problem.

Two hours later, after I hadn’t responded considering I didn’t have the first clue what to say, his tone had shifted, and I got the feeling he was just texting me every time he had a thought that he wanted to share with someone. And he wanted that person to be me.