Chapter Eighteen
“MAX!” VICKY YELLED, running to help her to her feet.
Max was too stunned to move, watching as Treat grabbed the blonde by her shoulders and said something Max couldn’t hear, but his body language told her all she needed to know as he hulked over her, moving rigidly, not languid and loving the way he was with Max. He released the woman’s arms and strode directly toward the ramp, falling into step beside Vicky.
“Way to go, Treat. That woman’s got a fairly loose reputation,” Vicky said.
“She deserves it.” Treat’s gaze locked on Max. Grief and confusion riddled his handsome face as she pushed to her feet and he rushed to her side. “Max…? What are you doing here? That wasn’t what it looked like. I can explain.”
“Like it wasn’t what I thought when you saw me with Justin?” she asked, brushing sand from her butt.
“Yes!” Treat insisted. “Exactly like that.”
“One minute you’re professing your love to me and the next you’re making out with a strange blonde,” she said teasingly. The glint of relief in his eyes told her he knew she wasn’t angry, but still she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “No wonder this is your favorite place. You probably have a woman at every port.”
“Max?” Vicky said. “Honey, I’ve known Treat since he was a boy. We see him when he’s in town. We know his whole family, and he isn’t who you think he is.”
“See? Even she knows what you’re like,” Max teased.
“No, Max. He’s not the person you think he is. It’s none of my business, and I’ll leave you two alone to hash this out in a second, but first…” She turned to Treat. “She’s the sweetest, kindest woman I have met in a long time.”
“I know,” Treat said as he slid an arm around her waist.
“Max,” Vicky continued, “Treat has women after him all the time. Of course he does. Just look at him.”
“He’s a hot one,” Max said.
“It’s a wonder he can go anywhere looking like that. But he’s a gentleman. He doesn’t have a girl in this port. I’ve never seen him bring a woman here, or even date a woman here, and he’s no spring chicken.”
Max giggled. Treat scowled.
“That’s a lot of years without a steady woman on his arm.” Vicky took Max’s hand and said, “Max, he’s your tiller.” She nodded. “Trust me.”
Vicky kissed his cheek, and then said in a hushed tone, “Hurt her and I’ll kill you. I want a front seat at the wedding.”
“Thank you for everything, Vicky.” Max hugged her. “I know all those things you said about Treat. This was what I call Treat’s Justin-by-the-elevator moment.”
“I don’t even want to know what that means, honey, but by the look in your eyes, I’d say it’s a good thing.”
When Vicky walked away, Treat cocked a brow and said, “There’s only you, Max.”
“I know. I’m tipsy, but not too drunk to see the truth.” The truth wasn’t what Max expected. She’d assumed the worst not because of Treat, but because of those ghosts rattling the chains in her closet.
“What are you doing here, baby?”
“I wanted to surprise you, but I kind of suck at surprises. I had no idea where you lived or anything.”
“Efficient Max didn’t have a plan? A map of every house on the Cape?”
“It’s not funny!” she snapped.
“No, it’s not. Some might say it’s fate. You know what this means, don’t you?” he asked as he gathered her in his arms. “You were thinking with your heart.”
“That seems to be the only part of me that works when I’m thinking about you.”
“Well, then.” He scooped her into his arms, making her laugh with elation as he carried her up the ramp and said, “I plan to inspect every one of your parts to see if that’s true.”