The Gamble (Colorado Mountain #1)(82)

I didn’t know and I didn’t get to ask, not that I would have, she continued.

“It’s just that he’s smart. If he’s going to be gone all that time, why not rent the house? He makes a bucketful when he rents it, he can get top dollar and he demands it. I would too. I mean, who wouldn’t? His house is great.”

I didn’t want to be in another conversation about Max’s finances, especially considering the reasons why I was in another conversation about Max’s finances, so I said, “Of course,” hoping that she’d be reassured and we could stop talking about it.

She nodded and went on, “The other thing…” She paused and her hand squeezed mine, not comfortingly, spasmodically, a reflexive action communicating something else entirely. Then this action was explained when she said in a low voice, the words coming fast and I knew it took a lot for her to utter them, “Beware of Shauna. I know why she was with Curtis and I know why she was with Harry. I’m guessin’, from what Harry told me, that you figured it out so you gotta know, she was with Max for another reason. She wanted him for a long time before she got him and she made no bones about it and when I say that, I mean a long time.” She paused to let that penetrate, before she finished, “She still wants him, maybe even more now that she’s lost him.”

Considering the fact that I’d recently decided to go home to England as soon as humanly possible and never come back to Colorado again in my life, it was unnecessary for Bitsy to give me this warning. Although I didn’t tell her that since her doing so was also kind.

“Thanks Bitsy,” I said and then told her the truth knowing, even so, she’d not understand my true meaning, “I’m not worried about Shauna.”

She smiled at me, it was again small, her face had not fought back the grief but she wasn’t letting it consume her, something else I admired her for, and she gave my hand a final squeeze before letting it go.

“Sucks,” she started, looking back at the reception desk and I saw her eyes lock on something and I looked to see Max and Mick were heading our way. “Finally, he’s found someone he’s into and it’s during all this crap.” I felt her eyes come back to me so I looked back to her and she was again smiling. “But we’ll get to know each other.”

“I’d like that,” I said quietly, even though I knew we wouldn’t.

“Me too,” she replied with feeling, not sharing my knowledge and making me feel guilty because she appeared to be looking forward to it.

“Bitsy,” Mick greeted as he stopped in front of us and I stayed seated. I did this out of habit. It was something I did for Charlie, keeping myself at his level, not making him look up all the time, reminding him of what he’d lost.

“Hey Mick,” Bitsy greeted back.

“How’s things, Nina?” Mick asked me.

“Interesting,” I replied and Mick smiled.

“Max, would you stay with me when they talk to me?” Bitsy asked and then said to me, “Or, sorry Nina, I should ask you. Do you mind?”

I shook my head and smiled at her. “I’ll just go get a coffee or something.”

“Thanks,” she said softly. She nodded at Mick, started wheeling away and Mick followed her.

Max stayed with me and I stood.

“Bitsy wants you,” I reminded him.

“Somethin’s up,” he said straight out, watching me closely.

“You better go,” I encouraged him, evading his subject. “Do you want me to bring you a coffee when I come back?”

He got close, tilting his head down to look at me but he didn’t touch me.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I’ll get Bitsy a coffee too. Do you know what she likes?”

His finger went into my side belt loop again.

Then he said in a low tone, “Not gonna ask twice, Duchess.”

God. Seriously. He was so annoying.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re lyin’.”

My eyes narrowed, I yanked my h*ps away but his finger held fast and instead of tearing my loop, I settled and repeated, “I said, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.”

I leaned in and hissed my lie, “All right, Max, I’m going out for coffee and my Dad’s in town. I don’t want to run into him and have another scene, this time in public.”

His finger in my loop drew me closer as his face relaxed.

“Just stay at the Station,” he suggested. “I’ll ask Mick to get someone to bring you coffee.”

“Police coffee?” I asked, sounding horrified.

“Yeah, Duchess,” he returned, grinning. “You think your system could stomach that?”

“No,” I lied again.

His grin got bigger and he muttered, “Christ, you’re cute.”

I sucked in breath, feeling those three words pummel me like blows to the gut.

Then I reminded him, “Max, they’re waiting for you.”

“Stay here, you want coffee, we’ll get coffee with Bitsy after. She’d like that.”

“Max, as I said, twice, I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head and his finger in my loop brought me even closer, inappropriately closer for a public place, a closer that was almost, but not quite, as close as making-out-in-the-kitchen close.