Mad About Max. Penny McCuskerЧитать онлайн книгу.
supposed he should feel sorry for her, but he wasn’t really in a sympathetic mood. Impatient was more like it, with enough confusion thrown in to remind him that Sara was a woman and when a woman was involved in any sort of relationship, a man never completely understood what was going on. He knew Sara well enough to have a pretty good idea, though.
After one of her accidents, she usually kept a low profile, staying away from the more public places and the more vocal residents of Erskine. That had never included him before, but then, neither had one of her accidents.
She must still be embarrassed by what had happened two weeks ago, and no wonder. It couldn’t have been pleasant for Sara to have her hips pressed to his—to find herself stuck to a man she considered a brother. And being a woman, she just naturally couldn’t let it go and forget it like he could. At least not until they got the awkward first meeting over with.
“I’ve barely seen you in two weeks,” Max called out. “Come over and talk to me while I finish loading up.”
But instead of reaching for the next sack, he leaned against the side of his pickup, hooked his thumbs in his front pockets and watched Sara walk across the feed store. He couldn’t resist. Even with her normally bubbly personality weighted down by embarrassment, she exuded so much energy that a person’s eyes were naturally drawn to her.
Copper-colored curls bounced around her shoulders with every step. Her dark, lively eyes sparkled, and the corners of her mouth were lifted in the slight smile that rarely left her face. She wasn’t beautiful by the standards set for magazines or movie screens, but she had more charm and personality than any actress or model. And she was a lot more entertaining. Just watching her was a spectator sport, even on a day where the most interesting thing she did was choose what to wear.
Today it was a flame-bright orange sweater, black tights dotted with jack-o’-lanterns—in honor of the big day coming at the end of the week—and a black skirt that flared and floated around her slender thighs and hips with every jaunty step.
Max got a sudden, strong flash of the way those hips had felt between his palms two weeks ago, the resilient feel of her flesh where his fingers had gripped her, the warmth of all that tight, fake red leather. And then there’d been that hole she’d snipped in her skirt. He could have sworn he saw black lace through that hole.
He dropped that memory like a mental hot potato. Thinking about Sara and black lace at the same time was just wrong.
She belonged to the white-cotton set, that asexual group of females in every man’s life who baked cookies, stepped in to baby-sit at a moment’s notice and knew how to heal any injury with a Band-Aid and a kiss. Aside from Joey, Sara was the closest thing to a family Max had, and if there’d been a time, once, when he might have seen her in a different light, a more romantic light, he’d deep-sixed the thought before it could even begin to take hold.
He had a dismal record when it came to love and marriage—all the men in his family did. His grandmother had died young, leaving his grandfather alone to raise a young son and run a ranch. His father and mother had called it quits before they’d been married ten years, and his own marriage had lasted substantially less time. Instead of heeding the lessons he’d learned by example, Max had been young and foolish enough to try the “love conquers all” route. The only thing love conquered, he’d learned, was any man by the name of Devlin.
At least, Joey didn’t have to be shuttled from household to household, like he’d been. Julia, his ex-wife, hadn’t asked for anything from their marriage but her freedom. She’d wanted Hollywood, she had the looks for it, and Lord knows she’d done a damned good job acting like a wife and mother during their few years together.
No, that wasn’t entirely fair. They’d wanted different things, he and Julia, and she’d loved him once, enough to give him a son. For that alone he would never regret his marriage. And regardless of the terms of their divorce, she did her best by Joey, visiting when she could, occasionally calling him on the phone and having him out to stay with her in the summer, no matter what she had to do to swing it. Usually, though, it was just father and son. The same as it had always been in his family.
A man with that kind of sorry history had no right getting involved with any woman, let alone the settling kind like Sara. She deserved someone who could come to her fresh and loving, and give her the home and family she deserved.
It was just a matter of time before some lucky guy whisked her off to the altar and out of his life. When that day came, Max would be the first to congratulate her and wish her well. When that day came…
Frowning, he tore his eyes off her and bent to lift another sack of grain. But he knew when she stopped behind him, even before he caught a faint whiff of her perfume. “Where are you off to—” he paused to launch the sack off his shoulder and into the truck “—in such a hurry that you can’t even say hi to a friend?”
“Groceries,” she said. “It was either the diner or the market, and at least at the market I can stock up so I won’t have to eat out. Or shop again for a while.”
Anything to stay out of town until the hubbub blew over, Max interpreted, and had to hide his grin before he turned to face her. It was good to hear her sounding like her old self again. “You could always go out on the range and catch yourself a steer.”
She shook her head, the corners of her mouth curving up into a reluctant grin. “As long as they stay out of town, they’re safe from me.”
“Now that’s not strictly true, Sara. Remember the time old man Winston’s cows got out and wandered into the road? It’s a good thing I was fixing his fence when you happened by. If you hadn’t seen me waving my red flag of a shirt and shouting like a lunatic, you would’ve driven head-on into the middle of them.”
“Lucky for me you were there, Max, and that you happened to have your shirt off at the time so you could use it to catch my attention.”
“It was lucky, all right. You didn’t get hurt, and the cows started giving milk again after about a week or so.”
“If you’re trying to cheer me up, you can stop now.”
Max laughed, finally understanding her sarcasm. “I’m almost done here,” he said. “If you wait a few minutes, the human stomach and I will go to the market with you. We must be out of something the way Joey eats.”
Sara’s smile dimmed. “Thanks, Max, but I think…it might be better if I go alone. I mean, after the glue and all, you know…” She looked at the floor, her even white teeth worrying at her bottom lip before she met his eyes again. “I wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea. About you and me.”
“I think we can risk being seen together in public without anyone getting the wrong idea.”
“Yeah,” Sara said on a heavy sigh, the thought of braving the teasing of her friends and neighbors obviously pulling her mood down again.
Max could have kicked himself for bringing it up after he’d worked so hard to make her smile, but he didn’t have to rack his brain for a way to cheer her up again. Joey did it for him. He ran up just then, two mixed-breed kittens clinging precariously to his jacket by their needle-sharp claws and mewing pitifully. “Mr. Landry says I can have them both.”
As grateful as he was for the return of Sara’s company, Max wasn’t about to reward his son with a pair of kittens. “They’re not even weaned yet, Joey.”
“They must be, Dad. The mom cat is gone and there’s a dog in there with them.”
“I know. Mr. Landry told me…I’m afraid the kittens’ mother died, son. It just so happened that Mr. Landry’s dog had weaned a litter of pups not long before, so he brought her in to see if she’d adopt the kittens and she did. It happens sometimes.”
Joey thought for a second, then shrugged as if it were an everyday occurrence for a dog to adopt a bunch of newborn kittens. Of course in his world, Max reflected sadly, mothers went away and life carried on.
“Can