Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(11)

“Fine,” he muttered. She could have gone all day without mentioning these details. How easy it was to picture the two of them with their heads together, laughing and reminiscing over the early, happy years of their marriage. He clenched his jaw so hard that his back teeth ached.

“Listen, Max, as much as you’d like me to forget the twenty years I was married to Grant, I can’t. We have children together. Andrew and Annie will always link me to my ex-husband. That doesn’t mean I love you any less or that I’m susceptible to Grant’s less-than-subtle attempts to build the very bridge he chose to tear down. What I expect from you is a bit of patience and trust.”

Max didn’t want to get into these issues with her. What he wanted, what he needed, was reassurance.

“Will you be seeing Grant again anytime soon?” Max asked, as conversationally as he could manage, knowing at this point he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all Bethanne, and most certainly not Rooster. Max caught a glimpse of Rooster rolling his eyes.

“Grant wants to take everyone to dinner this Saturday.”

“Everyone.”

“Andrew, Courtney, Annie, Harry, and me.”

“Harry? I thought Annie was dating some guy named Aiden.”

“That was so last month.”

“Oh.” His stepdaughter went through boyfriends the way some people went through a six pack of soda. “It’s hard to keep track of who her current love interest is.”

“Well, you’re most definitely mine. Now, please, let’s put this matter behind us.”

Max didn’t know if he could, especially in light of this family dinner idea. He didn’t like it one bit. He feared Grant had the upper edge this time around. He had proximity and a twenty-year history with Bethanne. And now Grant and Bethanne would share a grandchild.

“About dinner,” Bethanne said. “I know this weekend is my turn to come to California.”

“Yes, it is,” he said, unwilling to bend.

“Could you manage to fly up to Seattle instead? I’d like it if you could join us for this dinner.”

“No.” He flat-out refused.

“You’re acting like a child, Max Scranton. You’re going to force me to choose between you and a family function, and that’s … that’s wrong.”

“I can’t come to Seattle this weekend; I have a dinner with two wine company executives that’s been on the schedule for weeks. A dinner during which I’d hoped to be able to introduce my wife.”

“I’m sorry, Max … I—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he snapped, cutting her off. “Just be aware that Grant is going to use every excuse he can to drive a wedge between you and me. Do you honestly think the fact that you’re married to me means anything to him?”

“I can’t speak for Grant, but you should know it means a great deal to me.”

Background noise told him someone had stepped into her office.

“Grant?”

Max heard the surprise in Bethanne’s voice.

“Hold on a minute,” she said to him, and then whispered, “Sorry.”

Once again, Max was about to be set aside in order for Bethanne to chat with her ex-husband. This was exactly what he’d warned his wife would happen. Grant was on the prowl. Bethanne knew Grant’s games as well as he did, and still she continued to play. She assumed she was immune to her ex-husband. Max, however, wasn’t willing to risk losing his wife.

One of the hardest decisions Max had ever made had happened after he’d fallen in love with Bethanne. Grant had been working to win her back then, too, and in order to give her the freedom to make her own decision, Max had stepped aside and allowed Grant time and opportunity to woo Bethanne back. As hard as it was to remain out of the picture, Max had stayed away, unwilling to influence her one way or the other.

In the end, she’d chosen to marry Max. The road hadn’t been nearly as smooth as he would have liked. Their main difficulty, besides living in two different states, was his rocky relationship with his stepdaughter. And now this.

Instead of putting him on hold, Max realized Bethanne had laid the phone down on her desk in order for him to overhear the conversation. It was small comfort, but he was grateful.

“What can I do for you?” Bethanne asked stiffly. “As you can see, I’m busy.”

“Yes, sorry to interrupt.” Grant sounded friendly and apologetic to intrude. “Tell me, did I happen to leave my sunglasses at the house last night?”

“No. I don’t believe you were wearing sunglasses.”

“You’re sure? Maybe I should stop by.”

“Not tonight.”

“What about tomorrow, then?” Grant asked.

“I’m going to the yarn store, and I’m not sure when I’ll be home, but I’ll check for your sunglasses again and let you know.”

“I appreciate it. They’re designer frames.”

“Okay, now if you don’t mind—”

It was about time, Max mulled. The longer the conversation lasted, the hotter he fumed.

“Goodbye, Grant,” Bethanne said pointedly.

“You’ll phone if you find my glasses.”

“Of course,” she promised.