A Turn in the Road (Blossom Street #8)(69)

She met his gaze and held it.

“You’ll go on to Florida, and we’ll connect again later this summer. If that’s what you decide.”

Bethanne started to say that was too long to wait.

He shook his head. “No, you need to be with Ruth and Annie, with your son and his bride. With Grant.”

Bethanne opened her mouth to protest, but again he stopped her.

“Make no mistake, I’d welcome the opportunity to explore where this relationship will take us, but I have things I need to attend to and so do you.” His expression was determined. Unwavering. “While you’re in Florida, you and Grant will have the chance to work this out—or not. Until you do, I’ll stay out of your life. I’ll abide by whatever decision you make.”

“What if…what if Grant and I don’t get back together?”

“Then let me know.”

“You’ll come to Seattle?”

“I’ll come wherever you are. Anyplace. Anytime. All you have to do is contact me.”

It sounded risky to Bethanne, scary, especially when she wasn’t sure of her own mind. She wanted Max to convince her they were meant to be together. He hadn’t. She wanted him to fight for her. He wouldn’t. The decision was hers.

“I don’t like this,” she confessed.

“Bethanne, we’re both high on emotion.” His hand cupped her cheek as if he felt the need to touch her, to hold on to her as long as he could.

They finished their wine, then returned to the front porch and sat in the swing, Max’s arm possessively around her. She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. She wanted to keep these feelings with her forever.

Part of her wanted to argue with him, say she’d already made up her mind. Only she hadn’t. Not really. Twenty years with Grant couldn’t be easily shoved aside or forgotten. Max was right; they were high on emotion, on discovery. What they shared was fresh and new. Their feelings for each other had yet to be tested. All she had were these few days with Max. Seven days that had indelibly marked her. But could it be more than just a memory, significant though that memory was? Should it?

Max escorted her to her room and kissed her good-night. Bethanne felt an urge to weep—but this time for reasons she understood far too well.

Twenty-Two

The next morning Annie was up at five-thirty, eager to hit the road. She turned on the bedside lamp and studied the road map. The day before had been a dead bore. Although she’d spent most of her time wandering from store to store and had even bought a few things, she’d grown tired of that.

The most interesting part of the day had been breakfast with her grandmother and Rooster. He seemed intent on letting them both know what a great guy Max was. She’d had some serious doubts about this biker. To all outward appearances, he was little more than a drifter. Her mother had hinted at the fact that Max owned a wine distribution business but she hadn’t said much. Annie was convinced it was because her mother didn’t know much.

But Rooster was obviously determined to fill in the blanks. He spent a good hour telling them about Max and his brother, Luke. He explained that Max had lost both his wife and his daughter and had gone off the deep end for a while.

Rooster turned every topic of conversation, every remark, into an opportunity to talk about Max.

When Grandma mentioned going to New Orleans, he’d said, “Max spent six months there.”

“Doing what?” Annie had asked skeptically.

“Building homes with Habitat for Humanity. He also joined a group that reconnected pets with their owners.”

“Oh.” Annie had assumed he’d been drinking and gambling. The fact that he was helping victims of Hurricane Katrina quickly trampled her sense of indignation.

“So the two of you are heading home to California,” Ruth said.

“We leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Going back to do what?” Annie had asked.

“Max is stepping into the role he left three years ago,” Rooster said. “He’ll be working in the family business.”

Annie made it clear that she wasn’t impressed. She refused to even hint to Rooster that her views of Max were starting to change, much as she didn’t want them to.

“I know you don’t trust him,” Rooster said.

“Plenty of reasons not to,” Annie had muttered. “He’s ruining everything between my mom and dad.”

“Is he?” Rooster asked gently.

Annie nodded stubbornly, but her grandmother was evidently staying out of it.

“Kids want to see their parents together,” Rooster said, reaching for his coffee mug and holding it out for the waitress to refill. “That’s natural. But sometimes it isn’t for the best.”

“It is with my parents,” Annie insisted. She looked across the table and met her grandmother’s eyes, assuming Ruth would immediately agree. It came as a surprise when she didn’t.

Hearing how Max had volunteered in New Orleans wasn’t something Annie wanted to hear. She preferred to think of him as a drifter who’d taken advantage of her mother. Although she struggled to hold on to that image, she found it increasingly difficult, especially when she saw how happy he made her mother. Now that she knew that he had a good heart, it was even harder to dislike him.