An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)(58)

“This is all on your terms,” he whispered. “You’re in control. You just say the word and I’ll do whatever the f*ck you want me to.” His finger moved to her jaw, down her neck, and between her tits. “I want to make you feel good.”

“You do,” she sighed, reaching for his belt loops and pulling him closer. She looked up. “I want to do the same.”

He took her wrist gently and pushed her hand against his cock, grunting softly at the pressure. “I’ve told you. It’s yours to do what you will.” His breath made the hair at her temple move.

For one astonishing moment, Max could have sworn her fingers twitched against him, a brief second where he truly thought she was going to take control and touch him properly, but the desire in her pupils steadily fizzled and died, leaving nothing but uncertainty. Trying hard not to take the rejection too personally, Max cleared his throat, released her hand, and stepped back, giving her space.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, staring at the tiled floor beneath their feet.

“Hey,” he said sharply. “No. Don’t do that. You have nothing to apologize for. Got it?”

She nibbled her bottom lip and sighed.

“Grace?” Max pressed. He didn’t like that she felt she had to please him. He wasn’t that guy. Sure, he’d felt a twinge of frustration when she’d pulled her hand away, but that was just his cock talking. “No pressure, okay? Seriously.” He lifted her chin with his index finger, smiling gently when she didn’t flinch. She never flinched around him anymore. “Look, forget about it. And try again when you feel ready.”

She nodded, her gaze watery. “Okay.”

Max rubbed the tops of her arms. “So how about we go for a swim with these nutjobs, huh?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Um, you go. I’ll just hang here for a while.”

Max bit the inside of his mouth, hating the despondency that cloaked her. He hadn’t seen it for weeks and its return was not welcome. “No way, lady; we’re here to have fun, not mope. So sort your shit out.” He grabbed her forearm and pulled her from the bathroom back into the bedroom. He turned back to her expectantly.

A smile teased at the edges of her lips. “Okay, fine, but I’m not in the mood for swimming. And my new swimsuit doesn’t quite cover . . .” She motioned to her side, where Max knew her skin was scarred. His chest squeezed.

“Grace, you know those *s won’t give a shit about that, right?”

“I know,” she replied, quickly reaching to play with her hair.

“I don’t give a shit about it, either,” he added gently, because, if anything, the scars added “fortitude” to the ever-growing list of her endearing traits.

She smiled. “I know, I know. I just . . . Maybe tomorrow. What else can we do?”

Max thought for a moment before an idea pulled his mouth into a wide grin. “You brought your camera?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s go.”

For almost two hours, Max showed Grace the nearby treks around the house, leading her through brush, pointing out the breathtaking views of the lake and the surrounding mountains. Grace followed him without question, her trust in him implicit, snapping pictures of the trees, flowers, the exquisite light that filtered through the tree canopy, and a few of Max when he wasn’t looking, too involved in describing his adventures in the forests as a kid.

Ruby had been right—Max was a different person at the cabin. He was still the beautiful, gentle man she’d grown to know, but here Grace saw the tension in his shoulders evaporate, while the smile on his face was constantly in place. He was younger, freer, less closed off, and more willing to open up. His stories about his father and their fishing trips were too cute and at times hilarious and had Grace enraptured, especially when, later that evening, seated around a large fire, eating steak and burgers, Vince joined in. Max laughed more than Grace had ever heard, loud and bellied, as memories and anecdotes jumped around the group like a game of hot potato. Grace sat with her glass of wine, listening to the banter, feeling for the first time in years like she was truly at peace. And it was, in no small part, thanks to the man sitting at her side.

“Hey, Max, do you remember the night we snuck into the garage freezer and stole that ice cream we weren’t allowed and your dad was convinced there was a bear loose?” Ruby laughed around the rim of her wineglass.

Max snorted and nodded. “Oh my God. We were terrified he was going to find out that we’d stolen it.”

Vince shook his head. “You kids were a damned nightmare.”

The two “nightmares” fist-bumped. “Solid work, my man.” Ruby grinned.

“Word.” Max nodded solemnly.

“Why weren’t you allowed the ice cream?” Grace asked.

The roars of laughter from Vince, Fern, and Ruby and the blush creeping up Max’s cheeks were too intriguing to let go. Grace nudged his shoulder. “What did you do?”

Buck spluttered over his burger. “Man, I heard about this! Was this the naked police incident?”

Whoops of hilarity filled the warm summer evening and drifted along the edge of the water like leaves on a breeze.

“Naked police?” Caleb asked incredulously from his seat next to Vince.