An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)(26)
“I woke up late because I was working last night and I need to get to the house before the windows arrive. I promised Vince.” She continued to ramble even as she reached to the floor to pick up the bag and phone she’d dropped.
Max frowned in confusion. Windows? Vince?
“Are you sure your leg’s okay?”
Max exhaled, clutching as much serenity as he could to his chest, and smiled politely. “I’ve had worse.”
Seeming to sense his impatience, she nodded and quickly averted her gaze. “Okay. Well, sorry again.” She maneuvered around him, all but darting past like a nervous animal.
Max watched her hurry away, shaking his head wryly when he noticed the ass Buck had mentioned a couple of days before.
Yeah, he was right.
It was slammin’.
Thankfully, Grace was nowhere to be seen when Max finally got outside and to his rental truck. It was an overcast April morning, with the remnants of the night’s rainfall gathered in large puddles on the ground. Starting the truck, Max headed away from town toward the site his uncle was working. The project was a huge house, potentially beautiful, set back against the green of the forest. It took only ten minutes in the truck and, when Max arrived, work was well under way.
He waved at his uncle, Josh, and the other guys as he clambered out of the truck and jogged over to where they were unloading a shitload of windows.
“Did ya bring breakfast?” Vince inquired as he heaved a large window from the truck with the help of two other workers.
Max smirked. “’Fraid not.”
Vince huffed. “The hell am I payin’ you for?”
Max chuckled and got down to work, lugging the windows, timber, and tools up to the house before starting to help with the slow but steady construction of the first-level floors and walls. Hours passed swiftly being so busy. Max’s muscles burned gloriously from all the heavy lifting, and the banter with the crew was light. They almost certainly knew who Max was and why he was there, but he couldn’t have given less of a shit. They seemed to accept him readily into their team, being Vince’s nephew and all, and that, for Max, was enough.
Sitting down in the truck bed opening up his sandwich for lunch with another worker, Rob, Max startled when he noticed Grace speaking with Vince. She was smiling widely, obviously complimenting his uncle on the build work. Max noticed how minute she looked next to Vince’s bulky frame and how, bizarrely, she carried an expensive-looking camera around her neck. Maybe she was doing some promo or shit for Vince’s company.
Her laugh echoed from where she stood, garnering amorous looks and less than respectful mutterings from others of the work crew. Not that Max blamed them. She looked hot in her yoga pants, sneakers, and sweater. He chuckled when he heard Rob’s playful murmurings: “I’m a married man. I’m a married man.”
Max pulled his gaze away from Grace, focusing on his bag of chips.
“Y’all okay over here?” Vince asked as he sauntered over and hopped up onto the edge of the truck bed, pulling out his own gargantuan sandwich. Max nodded and smiled around the lip of his bottle of Dr Pepper. “Heard you went to dinner with Ruby and Josh last night.”
Max swallowed his drink. “Yeah, it was great seeing her. Plus she made biscuits so I couldn’t refuse.” Vince laughed. “Josh seems like a nice guy.”
“That he is,” Vince agreed. “Treats my baby girl right.”
“It’s a damned good job.” Max’s eyes once again found Grace, who was taking pictures of the exterior of the house and the surrounding forest. He tilted his chin in her direction. “What’s she doin’ here? She working for you or something?”
Vince scowled in confusion. “No. This is her place. Bought it before Christmas.”
Well, shit.
“Don’t know much about her,” he continued around his baloney sandwich. “She’s nice and all but keeps herself to herself. I don’t know much about her story other than she’s paying for all this up front. Must come from money.” Vince side-eyed Max and leaned in close. “She’s a missus, too, ya know?” He paused for effect. “But there ain’t no mister staying with her at the boardinghouse. I’m thinkin’ a huge alimony payout.”
Max snorted. “You know what they say about gossip, Uncle Vince.”
Vince laughed heartily and clapped Max on the back. He gradually quieted and nudged him with his elbow gently. “We haven’t had a chance to talk properly, Max. How ya doin’? You feelin’ okay bein’ here?”
“Yes.” The word was out without thought. “I’m okay. I feel . . . better. Less stressed.” And it was the truth. “Thank you.” Although still restless, he was sleeping better, and his appetite was coming back. He hadn’t painted yet, but that would come. “I’m at my NA meeting tomorrow morning. I’ll try and get back so I can help out—”
“Max,” Vince chastised. “Not that I don’t appreciate your thought, son, but it’s all right. You come and help me out when you can. You don’t have to punch a time clock.” He shrugged. “You do what you need to do. Get better. That’s what’s important right now. That’s why you’re here.”
“I know. I will, but I want to pay my way and—”
“Look,” Vince interrupted, turning to look at Max directly, “when he was sick, and even before then when he lost your momma, I promised your daddy that I’d help you whenever I could, or whenever you’d let me. I told him I’d be there just as he promised he’d be there for my Ruby should anything happen to me. Now, I know, like him, you can be a stubborn son of a gun when you want to be.” He smiled fondly. “Especially when it comes to accepting help. So imagine how surprised I was when you called.”