An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)(113)

“I’m such a f*cking fool,” he murmured.

Riley smiled sympathetically before his gaze drifted from Max to something over Max’s shoulder. “Dude.”

Max stilled, knowing from Riley’s expression who it was he’d seen. “Is it her?”

“Well, I’ve never seen her,” Riley replied, moving closer to Max. “But I remember Tate’s description just fine.”

“Fuck,” Max gasped as his pulse began to race.

Riley placed his hand on Max’s shoulder in silent encouragement. “Be prepared, man,” he said softly. “She looks f*cking amazing.”

With that comment, Max turned his head and looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, there was Grace and, sweet Jesus, Riley was right. Her hair was fastened in a tight bun at the top of her head, leaving soft curls that appeared crafted to the side of her face. With her hair up, her neck looked impossibly long, wrapped in a stunning necklace that glinted and sparkled under the bright gallery spotlights. Her dress was . . . unbelievable. It was a canary-yellow strapless number that reached the floor and pulled in at her waist, accentuating all of her glorious curves and the exquisite warm tones of her skin.

She was a vision and Max could barely breathe.

“You wanna go over?” Riley asked.

“Yeah, stay here,” Max answered unthinkingly, turning around and taking the first of the fifteen wobbling steps it took to reach her, leaving Riley where he stood. As he drew closer, Max’s stare stayed on Grace’s shoulder blades, watching the way they moved as she talked with her hands, as she always did, recalling the way they felt under his hands and against his mouth as he moved in her.

He approached silently and stood a couple of feet behind Grace while she finished her conversation. The woman she was speaking to glanced alluringly over Grace’s shoulder in Max’s direction, alerting Grace to his presence. She turned to him, smile in full effect before she realized who he was. The smile fell like a stone in water, taking all of Max’s courage and hope with it. Her green eyes flashed first with shock and then something Max couldn’t quite identify. Nevertheless, it made him feel minute.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice a staggered breath.

Max cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles. “I came to see you.”

He glanced at the woman and her male companion pointedly. They mumbled their good-byes and moved toward another part of the gallery.

Grace watched them go before turning back to Max, bewilderment clear on her face. “How are— What? Why?”

Max coughed a nervous laugh. “Why?” he echoed, his spiel all but dissolving the longer he stood looking at her. “Well, I wanted to see if you were okay, and . . . I, um, I thought that we could talk. Maybe. If you wanted.”

Grace stared at him as though he’d spoken in an alien language. “Talk,” she repeated. “About what?” She licked her lips, her green eyes sad as she lifted her shoulders. “What is there left to say?”

“There’s a lot left to say,” Max replied, swallowing hard. “Things I need to say, want to say.” He sighed. “I tried to find you.”

She nodded toward her feet. “I know. Sienna told me you were at the club. I got your note. I thought about calling but . . .”

She looked at him, her honest gaze like a warm blanket over his entire body.

Christ, he’d missed her.

“But I can’t do this right now, Max,” she whispered.

Max took a step closer when she turned to go. “Gracie,” he pleaded.

Her face pinched. “Please don’t call me that.”

The hurt in her words and the anguish tensing her shoulders was like a punch to the gut. “I’m sorry,” Max blurted. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to ask you a question—what I said to you that day . . .”

“Hurt me more than—”

“I know.”

“I never asked you for anything other than to let me in.”

“I know. I’ve—I’ll never—”

“Everything okay here, Grace?”

The man who approached was tall, strong, and sickeningly handsome. Max’s back straightened as he watched the man wind a protective arm around Grace’s waist. White-hot jealousy seared through Max so quickly he wavered on his feet. The man’s skin was the same color as Grace’s, offsetting the white of his dress shirt, and the way he stared seemed oddly familiar. The man’s dark eyes pinned Max in place before relief and understanding slowly began to settle into Max’s bones.

Kai. It had to be her brother.

“Everything’s fine,” Grace said softly.

“And you are?” Kai uttered, fist clenching on Grace’s side.

“I’m Max,” Max replied, standing tall, not even remotely intimidated. “And I’m here to speak to Grace.”

“Doesn’t seem like she wants to talk to you—”

“Kai, please.” She sighed, turning toward her brother.

Max clenched his teeth and looked down at Grace, ignoring her brother’s dagger-sharp stare as Grace began to shoo Kai away.

“It’s all right,” she told her brother. “Really.”

Kai huffed. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”