Chapter 20

CJ was standing at the nurses’ station when Max arrived, out of breath, a cold sweat coating his skin. “What happened?” he asked, the words scraping like gravel through his throat.

Red-rimmed eyes met his, and Max felt the floor drop out from under him. Gripping CJ’s arm, he listened as his partner told him what he knew.

“…changing the oil…chest pain…neighbor found him…paramedics…heart attack…resting now…”

Jesus. Max could barely breathe. Carl was as close to a father as he had, and he wasn’t ready to lose him. He also wasn’t going to intrude when Carl’s flesh-and-blood son was there. So instead of begging for a chance to speak to the man who’d been all the things his own father hadn’t, Max asked if there was anything he could do to help CJ.

“You can go in and talk to him some. He was worried about you.”

Max laughed, but the sound felt rusty leaving his chest. “Thank you, man.”

When Max walked into the room, he couldn’t believe how small Carl looked in his bed. He’d always been such a huge presence that seeing him like this, looking so vulnerable, was tough. The last thing the guy needed was Max breaking down in tears at his bedside though, even if that was what Max felt like doing.

So he kept it simple. “You scared the fuck out of me, Carl.”

The older man looked up, his eyes glassy and swollen, but bright with recognition. Carl waved him closer, and Max pulled a chair beside the bed.

“No worries, kid. I’m not going anywhere. Least not until I see both of my boys settled.”

Max ducked his head, knowing his eyes were dangerously close to watering up.

When he had his shit together, he pushed a grin onto his face. “You got a hell of a wait ahead of you then.”

“Yeah.” Carl nodded solemnly. “CJ said you and Sarah ended things. Too bad. I was thinking there was something special about her.”

Hearing Carl talking about her after his heart attack was like having a dull blade twist through Max’s gut. “She is special. But I think we’d be better as friends. If we can ever get back there.”

“Friends? What the hell is that?” Carl scoffed, then started to wheeze and motioned for the pink plastic cup of water on the bedside tray. Max held the cup so the straw went to the older man’s lips. After a sip, Carl leaned back like that had taken everything he had out of him. “Kid, you’re doing it wrong if she wants to be friends. Talk to CJ. He’ll straighten you out.”

Max coughed into his hand as Carl winked, then closed his eyes, sinking deeper into his pillow. Max watched the rise and fall of his chest, thinking maybe he’d fallen asleep. But then, Carl sort of smiled. “Saw you together once. Didn’t think it was friendship back then, or now.”

Max’s brow furrowed. “What’s that? Back when? At the bachelor party?” Yeah, he hadn’t exactly been thinking about being friends that night.

There was a small shake of Carl’s head, and then his eyes squinted open. “At school. You only had a few weeks left. I was still working up north and had a break, so I pulled into campus thinking I’d catch you after that Safewalk program you started. Grab a burger. They told me you worked the last shift at the library and I headed over, but you were walking with this pretty little brunette, and, kid, it didn’t take more than two seconds to realize what was going on there. You were in deep.”

He hadn’t realized Carl had ever seen them together. Almost no one had.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Max asked.

“Figured you’d tell me when you were ready. Didn’t figure it would take until you met Joan, but you’re a stubborn sort.” At Max’s curious expression, Carl went on. “You told me she reminded you of this girl you’d waited too long with back in school. That you hadn’t even realized what the girl meant to you until it was too late. Sarah. And damn, kid, just the way you’d said her name.”

Max’s chest was tight, that ache he’d finally shoved aside coming back.

“That was then, Carl. Things are different this time.”

“Why, because she loves you? If you ask me, it’s not as different as you think.”

Why did he feel like Carl was ripping him open by talking about this stuff? Why did he want it to be true? When it didn’t matter anymore, because now Max knew better.

“It’s different because when it comes to all this relationship stuff, Sarah’s barely even dipped her toes in the pool. Carl, she had one real boyfriend, and he held her back from everything. When we started dating, she was so excited about finally just being another twentysomething with a patchy dating history. She wasn’t looking for forever with me.” Max closed his eyes. “She wasn’t even looking for more than one night, but I talked her into giving me more. And then more after that, but I only did it because I knew she was leaving. She was going to be gone, so I wouldn’t be able to hold her back.”

“Hold her back from what, Max? A bunch of meaningless garbage most people are only willing to wade through so they can get to the deeper good stuff?”

“From having enough experience to know what she really wants. I don’t want her to settle for me just because I’m the first guy who wasn’t a total fuckwad to her. I don’t want her to realize down the line that she wanted something different, but now she’s stuck with me for her whole life.”

“Her whole life, huh?” Carl asked, a twinkle in his tired eyes. “That what she was asking you for?”

It wasn’t. She’d never once even suggested it. But still—

The door opened behind him, and CJ walked in with the nurse. “Time for some tests, Pops,” CJ said, giving Max’s shoulder a squeeze.

The guy looked like hell, the smile he’d strong-armed onto his face painful to see. Max stood and pulled his partner into a hug. “Get some rest, both of you. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Outside the hospital, Max leaned against his bike and rubbed a hand over his face. He still couldn’t get a full breath, but at least he knew Carl was okay. Good enough to try to help him with his love life. The old softy was in the hospital after a life-threatening scare, and all he wanted to talk about was Sarah.

Because he loved Max enough to know what she meant to him.

Thinking about Carl’s last question, Max glared down at the parking lot.

Sarah hadn’t asked Max for forever. She hadn’t even asked him to love her back. All she’d wanted was a chance to see where they could go.

The only thing that had kept him from taking that chance was the look on her face three months ago when she’d told him how important it was to her that she not make another mistake like Cory. That she take the time to figure out what she really wanted before signing on with anyone else.

Yeah, Sarah thought she was in love with him. Joan had thought it too. But how was Sarah going to feel when she woke up one morning and realized she’d been rash in believing Max was the one when he was the man who’d held her back?

Max knew how that went, and he couldn’t live with seeing the resentment in Sarah’s eyes. He couldn’t let her grow to hate him. And so he’d said no. Because he knew that if he got as much as a taste of what it was like on the other side of those boundaries they’d built, he’d want everything. His ring on her finger. Sarah wearing his last name. All of her days and nights, sweetness and smiles, for as long as they both lived.

* * *

This was a mistake. Sarah knew it, but she couldn’t stop her feet from moving up the walk to Max’s front door. To the house she’d fallen in love with, just like she’d fallen for the man who owned it.

He must have seen her coming, because the door opened before she could knock, and then Max was there, his eyes shadowed.

“Sarah,” he said, stepping out to meet her. “Are you okay?”

Mr. Protective. She almost laughed, but she could see the strain in his face. This man didn’t need another thing to worry about. “I’m fine, Max,” she said, holding her hands together so she didn’t press them against his chest. “I heard about Carl. I know he’s in the hospital, and I was worried about you.”

“You and Carl both,” Max replied with a gruff laugh she didn’t quite follow but somehow made her feel better. Then he was rubbing his hand over his face and taking a step back. “You want to come in? Or maybe just sit out here?”

She adjusted the oversize tote on her shoulder. “Have you eaten? I brought a few things, in case you hadn’t. Simple stuff, so don’t get too excited, but if you’re hungry?”

Max’s brows furrowed in thought, and then he laughed again. “I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. So yeah, now that you mention it, I could probably use some food.”

The fact that he hadn’t noticed broke her heart and made her arms hurt from not wrapping them around him. “Okay then. Let’s get you some dinner.”

Heading into the kitchen, she started unpacking her bag. She had a jar of sauce from the little gourmet place down the street, fresh pasta, a clamshell of spring salad, and a loaf of ciabatta that had still been warm when she took it off the shelf.

“Sit down, and I’ll get this going,” she suggested, but Max was already pulling out the pots and cutting board. They fell into that too-right rhythm together, moving seamlessly around each other as the table was set, the bread sliced, and the pasta drained. She was spooning the spicy, fragrant sauce over a plate of noodles at the stove when Max’s arms came around her. It felt so right, so natural, that for one perfect second she melted into the hold. But then she remembered it was neither of those things, that she was only there because the man she cared for like no other was in pain and she couldn’t stay away.

“Sarah, thank you for this.”

“You should probably try it before you thank me,” she said, trying not to sound as stiff as she suddenly felt.

“Not for the food. For being here. I hurt you. I know you’re upset. I know you’re a lot of things.” He swallowed and let her go. “Just, thank you.”

She nodded, her chest tight as Max reached around her and took the plate from her hands. “Sit down. Let’s eat.”

They talked about Carl. Max had been getting updates throughout dinner, and every bit of positive news seemed to lift a weight from his shoulders. The food must have been good enough, because Max devoured two plates of it, though Sarah barely managed a few bites herself. When the meal was finished, they washed the dishes together as they’d done so many times before. After the kitchen was clean, Sarah tried to keep the heavy sighs at bay until she got home, because it was time to leave, and that was the dead last thing she wanted to do.

Looking up from her tote, she watched Max where he stood in front of the sink, staring out the back window. He was tense. It was there in the hard line of his mouth, the set of his broad shoulders and the way his knuckles had whitened where he gripped the edge of the sink. Before she’d thought better, she was beside him, her hand over his.

“Max, is there anything I can do for you?”

“You should go.”

She lifted her hand like she’d been burned, but before she could step back, Max caught her, a warning in his eyes. “If you don’t, I’m going to do something we’ll both regret, and, Sarah, I can’t stand the idea of things between us being any worse than they already are.”

He was right. She should go. To stay would be a recipe for disaster. But instead of simply acknowledging the wisdom of his words and backing out of the room, she stepped closer and did what she’d wanted from the minute she’d arrived. She placed her free hand against the center of his chest and looked up into his eyes.

“What if I don’t go, Max? What if maybe, just for tonight, we put everything else aside, and tomorrow we go back to being whatever we are?”

Those dark brows pulled forward, turning his gray eyes stormy. “What are you saying?” he asked, but his tightening grip as he drew her closer told her he already knew. It told her his answer.

“I’m saying, I don’t want to go.” She moved her hand from his chest to his cheek, where she brushed her thumb against the rough stubble. “And I don’t expect it to change anything.”

Turning into her touch, he closed his eyes and kissed her palm. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” She was the only one responsible for the inevitable pain to come, but she couldn’t stop. Didn’t care.

Pulling him closer, she went to her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Max’s arms wound around her back, one hand moving to play with her hair while the other went lower, covering her hip. Their mouths held that lingering contact as her body melted into him. It felt so good. But not nearly as good as when his hold tightened, and his lips parted against hers.

Her arms linked around the back of his neck, and she opened beneath the kisses that quickly escalated until Max’s tongue was thrusting hot between her lips, and her fingers were clenching in the fabric of his T-shirt.

“Tell me to stop, Sarah.” Her back met the counter, and then Max was hard against her. “Tell me if you don’t want this.”

Her breath was ragged, her heart racing. “Don’t stop. I want this.”

A guttural sound ground against her ear, making her clench with need. She looked up into Max’s gorgeous face. His eyes burned over her as their ragged breaths mingled in the scant inches between them. “Max, please,” she whispered.

He searched her eyes a second longer, and then his mouth came down over hers in a savage assault of clashing tongues, teeth, and lips. Her legs wrapped around his hips as he carried her back to the room where they’d spent so many nights together.

When her feet hit the floor, it was all about getting the clothes off as quickly as possible. She ripped her shirt over her head, wrestled out of her bra, and shucked her jeans and panties all at once. Max was just as efficient in getting rid of his T-shirt and jeans. And then she was backing onto the bed as he rolled on a condom before crawling over her, the hunger and intensity in his eyes enough to set her on fire.

“Just tonight,” she whispered when Max was braced above her, their eyes locked. The words were for her as much as him.

“Just tonight,” he answered, pushing deep with one long stroke. “Sarah.”

Then he was moving inside her, telling her she was beautiful, perfect. Telling her he missed her and wanted her more than he knew how to handle. Telling her more than that with his eyes and his mouth and the reverent touch of his hands.

Max had been telling her for weeks he didn’t want her love, but in that moment, she knew down to her soul that he needed it.

* * *

He hadn’t wanted to sleep. But after all the nights of staring at the damn ceiling, on the night when he’d wanted to be alert for every minute of Sarah filling his arms, he’d ended up unconscious. It was the best night of sleep in recent history, and he hadn’t wanted to wake from the dream where a sleep-mussed Sarah was scattering soft kisses around his face, neck, and chest…until he realized it wasn’t a dream at all, and suddenly his hold on his consciousness was iron tight.

“Morning, handsome,” she murmured, a contented smile on her lips. “Sorry to wake you, but I have plans with your sister this morning. I have to go.”

His arms tightened around her, pulling her on top of him. “Five more minutes?”

Her quiet laugh was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. “Five minutes, five hours. Sleep as long as you like. I just didn’t want to leave without saying good-bye.”

“I’m glad you woke me. But I meant five more minutes with you.”

She searched his eyes and then nodded. “Are you okay, Max?”

He ran his hand from her smooth hip up to where her hair fanned across her back. Playing with the soft strands while he could, he nodded. Better than he’d been since she left. “Are you?”

Her fingers stroked over his stubble. “Yeah, I think I am. I feel different today.”

“Different how?” he asked, wondering how many minutes he had left on his five.

“Like I think that maybe if friends is still what you want, it’s something I could handle.” She blinked down at him, as his heart began to pound. “I’ve missed you, Max. And I’m not worried about my emotions getting in the way anymore.”

“You’re not?” he asked, his throat suddenly dry as he tried to figure out why getting the best news in the fucking world felt not quite right.

“No, I’m not.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his mouth before crawling off him. She was standing naked next to his bed, eyeing the floor before reaching down to scoop up her panties and bra. “So see you around, buddy?” she asked, stepping into her panties, the white cotton bikinis looking hotter on her than anything he’d seen before. Her bra was pretty and simple too. Cotton. White. Sexy as fuck.

She turned to him as she pulled the strap over one arm, then the other, until finally her perfect breasts were contained and his head started working again.

“I mean, unless you don’t think it’ll work.”

“Wait, what? Fuck, no. Sorry, Sarah. I mean yes. I want us to be friends.” Forget that he was hard enough to drive nails through a board. He sat up against the headboard and watched as she bent again, this time giving him the hottest view of her incredible ass while she gathered her jeans and shirt.

Christ.

“Sarah, more than anything I want you to be in my life.” It was the truth. Not exactly the whole convoluted, messy truth, but enough for today’s purposes. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Great,” she said, bouncing back onto the bed for a kiss. “That was the last one. Just a little left over from last night. I’m good now.” Casting him a quick wink, she crawled off the bed. “See you, Max.”

“Yeah, see you, Sarah.”

Max took a shower and got dressed. He ate breakfast and tried not to notice how empty his place felt without Sarah in it. He rode out to the hospital and tried to ignore that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he thought about Sarah being ready to be friends because her emotions weren’t in the way anymore. He talked to Carl and CJ and a nurse he cornered and tried not to wonder where the line for friends was drawn with Sarah. At least for a while, it probably meant texting her instead of calling when he had something he wanted to share with her, like that Carl was doing well and had asked about her, along with seven other cops and significant others who’d been at the hospital that morning.

He and Sarah texted back and forth a handful of times. But the relief he’d experienced with the first few easy exchanges had worn off, leaving him with an uneasy feeling in his gut as he stared at an emoticon message with a time stamp from the hour before.

What the hell was the matter with him?

He’d gotten everything he wanted. One more night of Sarah in his bed, her confident assurance that she could handle being friends, and a smiley face on his phone.

Walking up to the second-floor room with the bay window overlooking the street, he shook out his arms. Rubbed at his chest. But damn it, his gut was screaming at him that more than ever, things were wrong. He’d felt like this before, the day when he’d faced off with that junkie with the gun. When he’d known, known things were about to get critical.

That lives were on the line. Futures.

He looked around the freshly finished room that was going to sell this building for him. At the pale-sage walls and the white trim, the tall ceilings and the vintage crystal light fixture. The window seat with a bird’s-eye view of a neighborhood perfect for a couple. A family. A life.

Jesus. He rubbed at that aching void in his chest again.

This was his favorite room in his house, but the only time he spent in it was calling Sarah. He hadn’t filled it with so much as a comfortable chair or even a cushion for the window seat.

Why?

Because he knew it wasn’t really his. Not forever.

He had a plan. It was to sell this house. And so he let it sit empty.

But he didn’t have to.

He stared a minute longer and then took a deep, bracing breath.

Pulling out his phone again, he called Sean. “Hey, man, I need a favor.”

* * *

Four hours later, Sean had just pulled away and Max was on his way up to the house when Molly’s text came through.

Glad 2 hear U&Sarah got UR sitch straightened out. She said she’s finally ready 2 move on. Guess thats gd 4 Dave. Date 3 2nite but Sarah says she’s thru counting, whatever that means :-)

The recently replaced device clattered to the walkway as Max stood, clutching at his chest and wondering what the fuck was happening beneath his ribs. If this was what Carl had experienced two days before. Excruciating pain was ripping through the center of him like someone had just sunk a hatchet in it and started to hack, followed by a shooting sensation down his arm like he’d made a fist so hard the bones within were threatening to crack.

She couldn’t be going out with that other guy. Not after last night. Not when he’d just—

Fuck!

Maybe that was what had changed. All Sarah had needed was the right guy to compare him to, and she’d seen that Max really wasn’t the man she wanted. It was what he’d wanted—if you could call hating something with everything you had, but still believing it was for the best actually wanting it. And now he and Sarah could move forward as friends. So instead of imagining Dave gloriously struck down by lightning, maybe Max should be thanking him for giving him exactly what he’d wanted. A way back into Sarah’s life.

He tried to think about hugging Dave, but all he got was the look in Sarah’s eyes when she’d showed up at his place and what it had done to his heart. Basically the exact opposite of what was happening now. Sarah had made him feel alive. She’d made him feel connected. She’d made him feel loved. And somehow, someway she’d made him feel like he could love her.

Like they could love each other.

Only now there was Dave.

Max rubbed a hand down his face, his breath coming too hard to be healthy.

Damn it, what was he supposed to do now that there was some guy out there with a solid chance of scoring a piece of Sarah’s heart? He could let her go. Step aside. Be happy for her.

Or he could stop being the guy too afraid of letting her down to risk letting her in. He could stop trying to take the choice out of her hands and trust that Sarah was every bit as smart and capable as he’d been telling everyone she was, and let her decide for herself what she wanted for her life. For her future. He could stop trying to protect her, stop trying to protect himself, and finally just say what he meant.

“Fuck that. I’m fighting for her.”