Free Lovers at Heart by Melissa Foster Page A

“You scared the crap out of me,” she said.
    “I know. I wasn’t thinking.”
    She crossed her arms, and he couldn’t help but smile at the way she was so obviously steeling herself against him. Chinking that wall into place.
    “Do you have my purse?” Her clipped words and crossed arms contrasted sharply against the hurt in her eyes.
    “I do,” he said.
    When he didn’t move, she said, “Well? Can I have it?”
    “Oh, yeah, of course.” How could he have forgotten? He retrieved the purse, and as she climbed back into her car, Treat gently touched her arm. “Max, all I want to do is talk. Nothing else. Please. I think I owe you that much.”
    “You owe me that much? Isn’t that a little arrogant?” she asked.
    “I thought it was better than saying you owed me anything at all, which you don’t.” He saw her resolve soften. “Please? Just take a walk with me? I’ll keep my hands to myself. I won’t let us get caught up in any hanky-panky.”
    She stepped from the car with a reluctant sigh. “Hanky-panky? I haven’t heard that since I was twelve.”
    “Maybe you’re hanging out with the wrong crowd?” Relieved that she’d at least stepped from the car, he offered her his arm.
    She shoved her hands deep into her pockets. “Where would you like to walk?”
    Her refusal of his arm stung. She didn’t even want to touch him? At all? That was a very bad sign. But at least they were walking, and that was a start.

    WHY HAD SHE agreed to a walk? Now that they were alone, all she could think about was how he smelled like sweet masculinity. Before last night, she’d never smelled the cologne he was wearing, and she knew that if she ever smelled it on someone else, there was no way it would smell as delicious as he did at that moment.
    Oh, dear God. Focus. He’s still the guy who hurt me.
    And sent me a cake.
    And waited for me in the dark .
    His nervousness infiltrated the silence like another person between them.
    “Was Savannah mad that you left last night?” Max asked.
    “Not really. But she will be mad now. She called this morning, and I forgot to call her back. Do you mind if I just send her a quick text?”
    Rather than finding fault that he hadn’t called her back, she admired his dedication to his family. “No, go ahead.”
    He did, and as he texted her, his lips rose to a smile.
    “You really love your family, don’t you?”
    “Sure. Don’t you?” he asked as he put his phone in his pocket.
    “Yeah, I guess. But I don’t have any siblings.” Why am I telling you about my family? Focus, Max.
    “I can’t even imagine life without them. My mom died when I was eleven, after being sick for years, and afterward, I tried to step into her shoes and take care of them, but I never really pulled it off.”
    Her resolve chipped away as she imagined him as a little boy, crushed by the death of his mother and trying to be strong for his brothers and sister.
    He continued in a solemn voice. “I mean, I protected them, which was easy. I’m big, so people didn’t mess with them too much, but I couldn’t be Mom.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t even come close.”
    They walked along the street that led to town. Goose bumps rose on Max’s arms, and she wished she’d grabbed her jacket from the car.
    “I’m sure they appreciated all that you were able to do,” she offered.
    “You know, that’s just it. After years of hoping and praying that she’d be okay, I was so broken by her death that I really didn’t do much. I think I let them down, and when it was time to go away to college, I was kind of relieved to get out from under all that guilt.”
    His emotions were so raw, as if he’d just experienced leaving his family yesterday instead of years earlier. Max couldn’t stifle the urge to comfort him. He smiled as she wrapped her arm into his.
    “I’ve never told anyone that before.”
    “No?” He trusts me. I wish I could trust him .
    He shook his head. “It feels good to tell