An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)(59)
“Damn, boy, I’ll never be able to delete those images for as long as I live!” Ruby commented.
Max chuckled into his forearm. “Yeah, right, like you’d want to.” He winked and sipped from his bottle of Dr Pepper.
“So, come on,” Buck’s blonde friend, Carla, said impatiently. “What happened?”
She was pretty, Grace supposed, in a fake-hair-and-boobs, bright-white-teeth kind of way, but the manner in which she’d been eyeing Max all night certainly wasn’t.
Max sighed in amusement. “Ruby dared me to flash the family who were staying across the lake.” Ruby began to protest over the loud oohs and aahs. “You did,” he continued with a pointed finger. “Don’t deny it. It was all your fault.”
Grace laughed. “And did you?”
“Of course I f*cking did. I’d never concede a dare. I couldn’t let her win!”
“The only problem was,” Ruby sniggered, “as he stood on the float in the middle of the lake and dropped his shorts to greet the poor folks, the local mountain police were doing their morning rounds and saw him!”
Max dropped his head back. “Shit, I was terrified.”
“They hauled his ass back to the cabin,” Vince added. “He’s there standing on the damned porch with only a police hat covering his unmentionables!”
The group erupted again.
“Where were your shorts?” Grace asked, giggling.
“I had them!” Ruby cried. “He dropped ’em, and I grabbed ’em and swam back to the shore.”
“So I was sent to bed after a thorough roastin’ from my dad and no supper and no ice cream.” Max shrugged, smiling widely, his dark eyes dancing in the firelight.
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
“Your first of many brushes with the law, huh?” Caleb commented. His tone wasn’t condescending but there was an edge to it Grace couldn’t place.
The deputy had been mostly quiet since their arrival and had only smiled briefly in Grace’s direction after handing her a plate for her steak. He’d been close to the other of Buck’s female friends for most of the day, while also helping Vince with the grill. Truthfully, Grace was relieved. He was nice enough, but his attention made her nervous. Not because she was scared of him. Far from it. He’d always been supernice and polite to her, offering to walk her home from the bar when she was on late shifts if Holly was out or Max wasn’t around, which was rare. It was just that Max seemingly had a huge bee in his bonnet about the cop, and she didn’t want to be responsible for a falling-out between the two men. Knowing herself, she’d be sure to say something wrong.
Max smirked at Caleb, but his stare across the licking flames of the bonfire was anything but pleasant. Grace shifted at his side, wanting to touch him, but not knowing how. “What’s it to ya?”
Caleb shrugged and sipped his beer. “Just askin’.”
Max opened his mouth to say something that Grace didn’t doubt would be filled with expletives, but was interrupted by the sound of Journey blasting from the stereo Buck had brought. Buck leaped onto his seat and began his usual air guitar routine, along with Josh, who joined him and sang as loudly as he could about small-town girls and midnight trains. Before long everyone was singing, even Max, who laughed and encouraged Buck to jump like a true rock star from his seat.
They cheered and egged the boys on as they danced and goofed around. It was a shame that Grace had left her camera in her room. These were memories she wanted to document, to keep close to her heart, to look at whenever she was feeling bruised by life. She closed her eyes and allowed the sounds and smells of the moment to seep deeply into her, focusing on the gloriously loud laugh booming from Max’s chest. Similar to hearing her favorite song, the sound of it sent rippling goose bumps all over her body like a wave around a baseball stadium.
Max moved close to Grace’s ear when the song ended amid cheers and applause for Buck’s performance and AC/DC’s “Back in Black” began. “You okay?”
She smiled at Max’s gentle nod as the legendary guitar riff echoed up the mountain. “Absolutely.”
Grace was awoken by the sun streaming through a gap in the drapes and loud humming creeping from under the bathroom door. Grace rubbed her eyes and stretched. Her elbow bumped into the line of pillows that Max had been adamant about placing down the center of the bed. He stated their presence was to help make her feel safer, but something told Grace that Max needed those pillows between them, too—just for different reasons. Reasons that made her heart beat faster.
As she sat up and fastened her hair atop her head, the bathroom door opened and Max wandered out followed by a delicious-smelling cloud of steam. It was all deep spice and unlike any scent Grace had smelled before.
“Hey,” he said with a smile, fastening the tie on his blue board shorts and pulling the hem of his white wifebeater back down, hiding the sliver of exposed sun-bronzed skin under his belly button. “You’re awake.”
He moved around the room quickly. The tattoo on his shoulder was more visible than Grace had seen since the day they’d touched in his room. Her heart squeezed at the memory. The tat was black, thick black that looked almost like flames, maybe feathers?
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, pulling on his watch and slipping on a pair of black flip-flops before running his hands through his damp hair. Grace kind of loved that he never seemed to use a brush, especially when his hair stuck up that way.