Max (7 Brides for 7 Brothers Book 5) Read online

  His gray eyes sparkled with humor. “You go ahead and tell yourself that, baby. If it makes you feel better.”

  Then he stepped out of the tack room and swaggered down the aisle. Ellie battled with herself not to cuss him out and call him back and run after him all at the same time.

  He was just a man, damn him. A sexy, infuriating man that she did not want or need.

  You go ahead and tell yourself that, baby. If it makes you feel better.

  Ellie picked up the broom and attacked the dust as if it had personally insulted her.

  No, she did not feel better. Not even close.

  Max planned to stay away from the women, but Lacey came to his room when he was sanding the plaster and asked if he’d have dinner with them. She looked so hopeful and sweet that he couldn’t say no. Even though he knew Ellie was probably pissed at him.

  Jesus, what had he been thinking earlier when he’d stalked her in that tack room? She’d looked so sexy and receptive that he’d stepped into the room before he’d thought twice about it. He’d been planning to kiss her—but then she’d closed her eyes and tilted her face up to his and he’d been hit with her sweetness and vulnerability.

  He had no right to take advantage of that, especially since he wasn’t planning to stay any longer than it took to get her to sell.

  “All right,” he told Lacey. “Give me a few minutes.”

  He’d gone into town and gotten an air mattress, which he’d inflated earlier. He’d carried the old mattress outside and thrown it in the dumpster. There was no saving that musty, uncomfortable thing. He’d had to buy sheets and a blanket—and he’d even bought a new pillow. Yeah, so he was accustomed to sleeping in the dirt and sand and mud, but since he wasn’t downrange, what was the point in being uncomfortable?

  He put down the sander and ran the tacky cloth over the wall one more time. He told himself he was simply working to improve his prospects of a sale, but in reality it was something to do that took his mind off what he could be doing instead.

  Max went and washed his hands, then followed the scent of fried chicken into the kitchen where he found Ellie at the stove and Lacey setting the table with three plates and three glasses. She smiled when he walked in and he returned the smile. Ellie did not turn around.

  “I begged Ellie to fry up her momma’s chicken,” Lacey said. “Comfort food.”

  Ellie had two splotches of color on her cheeks when she turned and handed Lacey a basket of fried chicken. She didn’t even look at him as she turned back to the stove and stirred something on the burner.

  “We’ve got mashed potatoes and gravy, fried okra, and sliced tomatoes too,” Lacey said. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I am,” he replied. For more than food, but he wasn’t adding that part.

  Goddamn, since when had he gotten to the point where he couldn’t stop thinking about a woman? He’d never even kissed her, so why did she take up so much space in his head?

  Because you want to kiss her.

  Yeah, he wanted to.

  He sat where Lacey told him.

  “Want a beer?”

  “Sure.”

  She popped the top off a Bud Light and set it in front of him. Then she helped Ellie get the bowl of potatoes and the pan of gravy on the table. A platter of tomatoes appeared along with the okra. Fragrant biscuits arrived with a stick of butter on a dish and a knife.

  Lacey grinned as she sat down. “Ellie’s feeling soft toward me, so I asked for my favorites.”

  Ellie pulled the red polka-dot frilly apron that was faded with age over her head and dropped it on the counter before she walked over and joined them at the kitchen table.

  “You’re a terrible friend,” she said. “Taking advantage of me like this.”

  But Max could hear the love in her voice. It was one of the things he liked so much about her. She was prickly, but her feelings ran deep. The prickliness was like a porcupine’s spines—meant to scare off predators before they went for her soft underbelly.

  “I know,” Lacey replied. “But you love me anyway.”

  “Not if you don’t eat all this up.” Ellie’s voice was teasing.

  “Max is going to help. Aren’t you, Max?”

  His mouth was watering and his stomach growled. “I think I can do some damage.”

  Lacey took a piece of chicken and then handed him the basket. He took two. Once they’d filled their plates, he dived in. The chicken was perfect.

  “This is amazing, Ellie,” he said after he had a bite of mashed potatoes and gravy.

  For the first time since the barn, she met his gaze. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

  Like it? He loved it. In some ways, this reminded him of family meals when his mother was still alive. He didn’t think she’d actually cooked for their large family, but she’d certainly directed what happened in the kitchen. They’d always gathered at the table and shared what they’d been doing that day. For him and his brothers, it was much the same things—riding bikes, playing outside, playing video games, and all the other things boys did. For his father, it had been his work at the studio unless he’d taken time off to stay at home and do stuff with them. Which he’d often done before Mom had died.

  And Mom? What had she done? Max couldn’t remember. Finn had been so young then that most of her day had probably consisted of watching him more than the rest of them, but it bothered him he couldn’t recall even a single thing she’d spent her days doing besides taking care of their every need. Oh, of course she’d played with them. He remembered that. But what else?

  He didn’t know.

  He’d been nine by the time she died—it wasn’t a crime to be unable to remember when everything was so dramatic and self-indulgent at that age, and yet it bothered him he couldn’t.

  “Ellie’s momma used to win the first-place ribbon at the county fair with this recipe. No one could touch the Applegates when it came to chicken.”

  “Granny won for years before Momma took over.”

  “Do you enter now?” Max asked.

  Ellie shook her head. “No time. I’m always too busy on the farm to take time off.”

  He was beginning to understand just how much she’d been doing by herself. She had Miguel, and Lacey helped her when she could. But it was a lot of work for one person to coordinate and keep up with.

  Lacey changed the subject then, and they ate and talked about so many things over the next hour. Lacey wanted to know about growing up in California, and then they moved on to horse shows and what was next for Champ. Ellie asked if he’d like another beer and when he said he’d get it, she got up before he could do it himself.

  “My legs aren’t broke,” he said when she set it down in front of him.

  “No, but you’re a guest here even if you do own the place, so shut up and accept the hospitality. By this time next week, I won’t do it anymore, so enjoy it while you can.”

  He had the strongest urge to grab her arm and tug her into his lap so he could bury his hands in her hair and kiss her senseless. If they were alone, he thought she might even let him.

  He watched her walk back to her seat. Lacey’s eyes were on him when he reminded himself there were three of them in the room. She lifted an eyebrow and smiled knowingly. Yeah, she had his number when it came to Ellie. What could he do except shrug?

  After they ate, he helped them clean everything up. Once that was done, Lacey suggested they sit on the porch and watch the sunset. Ellie looked on the verge of refusing as she glanced at him, but then she agreed and the three of them went outside and sat with their drinks. He knew he should probably go and leave them alone, but Lacey kept talking and asking his opinion from time to time, so he never managed to end his involvement in the conversation.

  “Well, I’m beat,” she said when the sun slipped behind the horizon, leaving only a pink glow. “Think I’ll head up now.”

  “I thought we were going to watch a movie,” Ellie said, clearly surprised by this turn of eve
nts.

  “Next time. You stay here and keep Max company. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

  It was silent after she left. And then Ellie laughed. “Well, that was subtle. Don’t feel like you have to stay if you don’t want to.”

  “I’m fine,” he said. “But same goes for you. Don’t stay if you want to go.”

  She picked up her drink. “No, it’s okay.”

  “You didn’t want to come out here at first, did you?”

  She swung her head around to look at him. “Honestly? No, I didn’t. I’m not quite sure what to think when it comes to you. It feels awkward sometimes—but it also feels like we’ve known each other for ages. I’m comfortable with you, and I’m not comfortable with you. If that makes sense.”

  He was surprised at how honest she could be with him. He liked it though. It’s what made her so different from other women he’d been attracted to. He felt like with Ellie there were no games.

  “I’m sorry for what happened earlier. In the barn. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

  She shrugged. “What did you say that was so bad? You told me I shouldn’t expect anything from you. There’s nothing wrong with that. You thought I was interested, but I’m not. You don’t have to worry.”

  She was so full of shit it was unreal. Her entire body vibrated with nervous energy just because he was near. She hadn’t wanted him to join them for dinner, mostly because she hadn’t wanted to sit in the same room with him across the table and think about what he’d said to her in the tack room.

  The throaty growl in his voice. The flash of fire in his gray eyes. The flare of his nostrils as he’d told her not to look at him that way.

  She’d asked him what way he meant, but she knew, didn’t she? She’d been looking at him like he was something she wanted but couldn’t have. Like he was out of her league because he came from so much more than she did, even if he was a Navy SEAL turned mercenary. He was still the son of a billionaire, and he still stood to inherit a fortune someday. Men like that did not settle for women like her.

  She sniffed. As if she even wanted him to settle for her. And what did that mean, settle? She was strong and attractive, and she fried up a mean chicken dinner.

  And you smell like you’ve been frying too. The kind of women he’d want would smell like perfume and old money, most likely. Not fried chicken and sweat (both human and horse), which is what she probably smelled like most of the time. Well, not the chicken part, but definitely the sweat. Add in horse shit and you had a combination guaranteed to win over the most handsome someday-billionaire you’d ever had the privilege of coming up against.

  “I wasn’t worried,” he said, and her heart squeezed just a little bit.

  She told herself she wasn’t hurt. Wasn’t disappointed. He’d said she was beautiful earlier. She hadn’t imagined that. But maybe it was just his way of letting her down easy. She already knew he was a nice guy. He’d helped in the barn, and he’d stripped the carpeting from Granny’s old room, and now he was fixing the walls. He didn’t have to do any of that, even if he did own the place.

  “That’s good.” What else could she say? “Lacey thinks the perfect solution to my dilemma is to make you fall in love with me. That’s why she left us alone.”

  She had to give him some reason. She didn’t want him thinking she’d asked Lacey to do it.

  His gray eyes settled on her, and her heart kicked up. She took a sip of her drink and tried to act normal.

  “What do you think, Ellie?”

  She didn’t pull her gaze from his. “I think it’s a pretty good idea. If I had a clue how to go about it.” She grinned, hoping he didn’t take her too seriously. “But I don’t, so you’re safe.”

  “Thought you said you weren’t interested?”

  “In you, no. In this farm? Always.”

  He laughed. “At least you’re honest. Mostly.”

  Her conscience pricked her. “What are you talking about, mostly?”

  “You’re definitely interested in the farm. I’d even say it’s your number one priority. But Ellie, you aren’t uninterested in me.”

  She felt the heat flare beneath her skin. “You are so full of yourself. How do you make it through any doors?”

  “My life sometimes comes down to accurately reading another person’s intentions. I’ve gotten pretty good at it. You want me, but you don’t want to want me. I can understand that because I’ve got the same feelings rattling around in my head about you. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone, and you’re lovely and warm and so tempting. But I’m not the right guy to erase your loneliness, Ellie.”

  She rocketed to her feet, her drink sloshing over the rim and splashing onto her hand. She didn’t care. She wasn’t going to accept this from him. Wasn’t going to tolerate him sliding under her skin and digging out her deepest fears. She knew, on some level, it was an overreaction, that she should play it off and pretend he hadn’t gouged a ragged line in her soul.

  But she couldn’t. She just wasn’t made that way. She had to be strong so often, and carry so much, that she couldn’t do it right now with him. Not anymore.

  “You enjoy your night, Max. I’m going to bed where I don’t have to listen to you sound so superior and smug. You own my farm, and there’s nothing I can do about it. But you don’t have the right to make assumptions about me just because you feel like you know it all.”

  He stood and caught her hand as she turned to go. She gasped in outrage—or was it the bolt of electricity sizzling through her that made it happen?

  “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t storm into the house pissed off at me for telling you the truth.”

  “You know nothing,” she spat out. “Nothing at all.”

  Hot tears clogged her throat, but she wasn’t going to let them fall.

  “Oh yeah?” he snapped. With a growl, he yanked her into his arms. Her glass fell to the porch, rolling heavily across the boards. She had the impression of leashed strength and hard intensity as her palms went to his chest and curled into his shirt. But was she pushing him away or trying to pull him to her?

  She would never know which because Max lowered his head and claimed her mouth with a beautiful savageness that thrilled her down to her toes.

  10

  What the hell was he doing? Max had vowed to himself—and to her—that he wasn’t going to act on this attraction. He’d lied.

  Ellie was soft in his arms. She’d been spitting mad when he’d grabbed her, but now she melted into him as he fitted his lips to hers and explored the sweetness of her mouth. Her lips parted and he slipped his tongue inside, stroking hotly against hers.

  She made a noise in the back of her throat, but it wasn’t one of protest. Her fists were curled into his shirt, and then her palms flattened and her arms slid up and around his neck. He told himself this was madness, that he should stop kissing her, but he knew it wasn’t likely. He fitted her body to his, pulling her in close and sliding a hand down her hip, over the curve of her bottom, tugging her in until she could feel what she did to him.

  What was she doing to him? He was a disciplined man. He had to be. He dealt with deprivation and want, and he did it often and without any regrets. For someone in his line of work, discipline was critical.

  Yet he couldn’t seem to find his ability to deny himself where she was concerned. She drove him past the limits of his restraint, no matter how he told himself he wasn’t giving in to the need to possess her. He’d been so proud of himself earlier. He’d backed away when he’d needed to, given her space, and he’d congratulated himself for it.

  He was not congratulating himself right now. Instead, he was kissing her. Taking all the sweetness she would give him and demanding more. He feathered a hand across her collarbone, circled her neck to cup her head.

  He felt the rat-a-tat-tat of her pulse, hammering hard and fast in her throat, and his need to conquer and tame evolved into the need to protect and cherish. Whatever was happening between
them, Ellie was still vulnerable beneath all the prickliness. He had to remember that.

  He gentled the kiss and she followed his lead. Her tongue stroked against his softly, sweetly. He brought his other hand up to cup her head, his fingers sliding into her silky hair. She did not try to back away from him, and that pleased him as much as it pricked his conscience for kissing her in the first place.

  He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. He could hear her breathing in the darkness, feel her soft breath on his lips.

  He brushed his fingers against her neck again. Her pulse still raced, but so did his. He was uncomfortably hard too.

  “Why did you stop?” she asked, and his gut clenched tight.

  Yeah, why had he stopped?

  “I stopped because I don’t want anything between us to start with anger. We were pissed off at each other, and that’s no way to begin.”

  Her hands were on his biceps, holding him lightly while he continued to cup her head in his hands.

  “I shouldn’t admit this, but I liked kissing you.”

  God, just when he thought she couldn’t surprise him any more than she already had. “I liked kissing you too. I’m sorry I upset you.”

  “I think your destiny is to upset me, Max Brannigan. But that’s okay because I’m tough. I’ll get over it.”

  “So what do we do now, Ellie?”

  Because it was up to her. He wasn’t pushing her into anything. Hell, he shouldn’t be asking her at all. He’d kissed her and he needed to let this go.

  But he didn’t want to. There was something about kissing her. Something so sweet and pure, and he wanted more of it. He hadn’t had any sweetness in his life lately. He wanted that—her—with a fierceness that surprised him.

  “I think I need to go to bed.”

  His entire body stiffened with need, but logically he knew she wasn’t suggesting he go with her.

  “And I need to consider what I really want,” she finished.

  “I understand.”

  Her hands moved up to his wrists, and she squeezed for just a second before stepping back and out of his grip. His fingers itched to touch her again, but he dropped his arms to his sides and didn’t move.