Love Inspired August 2014 – Bundle 1 of 2 (27 page)

“Credit or not, you’re still blowing Alex and me off for dinner. We’ve been planning
this for two weeks.”

She was right about that much. Between her shifts at the firehouse and Alex’s schedule,
getting together was proving nearly impossible lately. “What if I came by at seven—would
that work?”

“Yes. I’d like that.” After a moment she added, “I miss you, Max. I used to see you
all the time and now—”

“Hey. We’re still Max and JJ. Besides, you’ve got that spiffy new groom to keep you
occupied.”

“That spiffy new groom also happens to be your boss. Have you considered you were
just trying to ditch your boss, too?”

“I’m trying to help a kid out, JJ. That’s all this is.”

“Look, I just want you to steer clear of Heather in the date department. You know
your track record. She’s a friend. This could get all kinds of weird, you know?”

It bugged Max that his own sister thought of him as toxic in the boyfriend department.
Sure, he wasn’t a master of solid relationships, and all her cautiousness hinted at
a seriously painful past, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a decent human being
over a slice of pie. “It’s just coffee, JJ. I gotta go.”

“Be nice, Max. Nice? Do you remember how?”

Chapter Six

M
ax hit the remote-control button that slowly opened the double doors on his adapted
Honda Element. Heather was surprised to see the pair of doors open from the middle
like French doors, but it made sense given the large opening they formed.

“Ta-da!” Max imitated a trumpet fanfare as if the gates to his castle were being raised.
He was always cracking jokes. Max was like a kid that way—ramping up the wisecracks
when he was nervous or uncomfortable. The mechanized ramp unfolded, making the drawbridge
metaphor a little more apt, and Max waved her on board with a grandiose gesture. “Ladies
first. You get to ride like I’m your chauffeur this time. I can put in the passenger
seat with a little more notice, but right now my chair goes there. Although I’ll warn
you, it’s not the cleanest car in the world. Just shove everything over on the backseat
and make room for yourself.”

She walked up the ramp, surprised to see the backseats were a little higher than the
front seats. It made her feel like a spectator instead of a passenger; an odd sensation.
True to Max’s warning, Heather had to move three T-shirts, a fast-food bag and a pair
of sports magazines over to make a spot to sit. Max rolled on board and went through
the process of securing his chair where the passenger seat usually went, then shifted
himself into the driver’s seat and rotated it into position.

“It’s amazing,” Heather said, watching the adaptations. It was both interesting and
a little unnerving to be in his car. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even
been in the backseat of a car, much less one as tricked out as this.

Max caught her eye in the rearview mirror. “You didn’t think I’d drive a minivan,
did you?”

“No, the paint job pretty much gives your taste in cars away.” He turned the ignition,
sending a deafening blast of loud music through the car.

“Sorry!” he hollered as he quickly lowered the volume. “I like it loud.” The engine
roared to life, loud enough without the music. He really was like a teenage boy in
too many ways.

He grinned and adopted a terrible highbrow accent. “To Karl’s, madam?”

“Yes, please.” She watched in fascination as he worked the hand controls that pulled
the car out and into gear. “Was it hard to learn to drive?”

“The hand controls?” Max called over his shoulder. “Not really. I just think of it
like a real-live video game. I took out a mailbox my first week, but it’s been smooth
sailing since then. I had more accidents with my old walking car than I’ve had with
this one.”

It was a matter of minutes before he pulled up into the accessible spot around the
corner from Karl’s Koffee. “I get all the best spots at the mall,” he said, doing
a spot-on imitation of a teenage girl as he hit the button to reopen the automated
doors. She climbed out, then waited on the sidewalk for him to shift into his chair
and come down the ramp.

“This is where it gets a bit tricky. Karl’s front has steps, so I get to use the secret
entrance.”

“That sounds fun,” she replied.

His eyes darkened a bit. “You’d think, but not really. You can meet me around front
if you’d like.”

She didn’t know if this was another of those diversionary tactics like he’d coached
Simon to use or a true invitation. She decided to see Karl’s from his point of view.
“I’ll go for what’s behind door number two.”

Max’s smile was pleased but cautious. They went around to the back of the establishment,
where Max hit a doorbell. After about a minute, Karl, the friendly older man who owned
the place, pushed open the door. “Maxwell! Saw that boat out on the river the other
day—pretty spiffy. It’s good to see ya, son. Gimme a second to clear the decks.”

Heather felt a twinge of guilt as Karl went back inside. “I didn’t even think about
the front steps before I suggested Karl’s. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Max almost looked as though he meant it. Was he really okay with her choice,
or was he using this as a lesson in how challenging Gordon Falls could be for him?
“I was a regular here back before I got hurt, and I’ve always liked the place. He
just has to move a few things to give me a clear shot to the front. He’s always good
about it, but...” Max finished the thought with weary eyes rather than words. “I can
get in easier at Café Homestead, but I like their pie better here. You gave me an
excuse to make the extra effort.”

“Me, too. Everyone always goes there for pie, but I think it’s better here.”

The door reopened. “Okay, all set. Corner table’s all waiting.”

“You rate the corner table at Karl’s?” Heather asked. It was always taken when she
came here, and it was a favorite spot with the best view out the window.

“Sort of,” Max admitted. “It’s the only place I fit, so it’s a backhanded benefit.
Evidently you get a free coffee if Karl has to move you to make room for me.” He said
it with a cheerful tone Heather didn’t fully believe.

He had good reason. Heather was astounded how much effort it took to get Max through
the back of the coffeehouse, around the existing tables and settled in the corner
spot. It made her feel terrible at how easily she breezed in whenever she felt like
it.

“Don’t go all pity party on me.” He sent her a dismissive grin, tossing back his tousled
hair. “I get seated first on the airplane, and if we ever go to Disney World I can
get you on Space Mountain without waiting in line. This is nothing. I’m used to it.”

She sat back in her chair. “Why did you ever say yes to here if you knew it would
be such a hassle?”

“Because it’s where you wanted to go.” He peered toward the chalkboard that held Karl’s
daily offerings. “And like you said, the pie is good here. Besides, I like Karl and
I don’t get to see him as much. They have blueberry today. Awesome.” When she stared
at him, he added, “Don’t you ever do things that are a hassle just because you want
to do them?”

Heather thought of the fifty-minute drive she made to her preferred hairstylist. “I
suppose I do.”

“So, are we just pie celebrating, or did today’s victories rate pie a la mode?”

His eyes could stop a train when he smiled like that. “Oh, definitely with ice cream.”
Karl had walked up, so when Max nodded in her direction, she said, “Dutch apple pie
a la mode and coffee, Karl.”

Karl wrote on the little green notepad he always used. “And what about you, Hot Wheels?”

“Blueberry. With ice cream. And coffee.”

Karl scribbled, then tucked the notepad into his apron pocket. “Done and done. Coming
right up, kids.”

Heather laughed. “Kids?”

Max looked after the old man as he limped away. “Karl’s hip isn’t doing so good. Age.
I guess to him we’re all kids. He told me once that he has a granddaughter about our
age, but I’ve never met her.”

“He didn’t try to set you up?” Max was handsome and Karl poked his nose in everyone’s
business.

Max shot her a look that belonged on a pirate. “Would
you
set me up with your granddaughter?”

She laughed at the way he could make fun of himself so easily. “Well, now that you
mention it, I suppose I’d hesitate. You drive a flaming toaster, after all.”

He laughed, as well, but Heather caught something in the way Max looked at the man.
“How long has your dad been gone? JJ told me he passed away, but I never did ask her
much more.”

“Years.” Max tapped his chair. “It’s probably for the best. I don’t think Pops would
have handled this too well. My dad was hard-core military. A ‘walk it off’ kind of
guy who even had trouble when JJ wouldn’t re-up after all she’d been through. This
isn’t a ‘walk it off’ kind of thing, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

Heather decided she would try a different approach. “Why do you make so many jokes
about it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, it’s just that you say it doesn’t matter, but you make it matter all the time
by making cracks about it. Dark, on-the-edge-of-not-quite-so-funny cracks.”

Max put both elbows on the table and pasted an enthralled look on his face. “No, really,
counselor, tell me straight-out what you think my issues are.”

“Close your mouth, son. She’s pretty, but she’s already sitting with you” came Karl’s
voice over Heather’s shoulder as he put down the two slices of pie. “Don’t try so
hard.”

“This is school related,” Heather felt compelled to point out, waiting for Max to
back her up.

“Could have fooled me.” Karl nudged Max’s shoulder. “Nice going, Hot Wheels.”

Heather remembered the one reason she didn’t come to Karl’s more often—it was ground
zero for the local gossip chain. Why hadn’t she remembered that if she showed up at
Karl’s with Max, it would take about seventeen minutes for folks to start making inferences?
She pulled a notebook out of her handbag and put it on the table with a pen.

“Oh, that’ll throw them off for sure,” Max whispered loudly.

“You weren’t helping.”

“It’s Karl.”

“No, it’s everybody. They’re staring.”

“I’m in a wheelchair with flames painted on the sides. Of course they’re staring.”
He was baiting her, and worse yet, he was enjoying it. “Look.” He leaned in. “They
could actually be staring for other reasons, but I’m so used to the stares I’d probably
never even realize it. You want to go? I’ll take you back to school. But I don’t think
we’re going to die from overexposure here.”

She felt cornered. If she didn’t go, people might start linking her with Max Jones,
and she definitely wasn’t ready for that. If she did go, she’d look as if she was
ashamed to be seen in public with him—or maybe with anyone in a wheelchair—and that
wasn’t appropriate...or true, either.

Max cut off the end of his slice with his fork. “Okay, my turn. Why do you weird out
when people notice you?”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t crave attention the way you do, if that’s what you’re saying.”

Max scooped up the piece of pie and put it into his mouth. “Nope, you can’t make this
one about me. A fine-looking lady shouldn’t work so hard to be invisible.” He pointed
at Heather with his fork. “Somebody or something taught you to want to hide like that.
You’ve got issues.”

She gave him her best “I am in control of this conversation” look. “You are making
a lot of assumptions here, Mr. Jones.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Have dinner with me.”

Her jaw clenched—he hadn’t even framed it as a question. “We’re already eating pie.”

“I’ve always thought dessert first was a fine culinary strategy. Let’s have dinner.”

“No.” She gave the word all the finality she could muster. She should have known he’d
push too hard at anything he did—why not at her?

“Because of the chair?”

“Stop that. I said no. And not because of the chair, but because we are currently
working together on a school matter.”

He leaned back. “It’s because of the chair.”

Heather planted her hands on the table. “It’s because of the arrogant, pushy man
in
the chair.” She let out a breath and began putting the notebook back into her handbag.
“I was just trying to be nice, to celebrate all the good you’ve done with Simon, but
I should have known it’d get like this. I’ll walk back to school, thanks.”

Max put his hands up. “Okay, okay. I’ll take it down a notch.”

“Or three.”

“Fine, I’ll take it down four notches. We did good with Simon. Let’s have pie and
coffee and talk about Simon and I’ll keep my dinner plans with Alex and JJ and pretend
this never happened.”

She glared at him. “You were going to ditch Alex and JJ for dinner?”

“Well, not really. I was pretty sure you’d say no.”

Heather put one hand to her forehead. “You are absolutely impossible. You should come
with a warning label.”

Just then a preschool girl wobbled up, pointing at the flames on the side of his chair.
As Max was raising a hand to wave hello, the mom rushed up, gushed out an embarrassed
apology and pulled the child away.

His gaze followed the child, who craned her neck around against her mother’s tug to
look again at Max. “I already do.”

* * *

Max wheeled up alongside the current national Paralympic cycling champion. Max had
flown down to Atlanta Friday afternoon to attend a track-and-field event AA had eyes
on sponsoring next year. “Man,” he puffed, wheezing so hard he could barely see the
competitor. “You...are...fast.”

Luke Sullivan looked as if he could have done another ten laps. “Six medals to prove
it.” He snagged the hem of his T-shirt and used it to wipe his sweating forehead.
The guy looked nearly military—lean, muscular, buzz-cut hair. Max thought the guy
could probably take on half of JJ’s old army unit sitting down. Sullivan had just
won yet another race—his third of the day. “You have some skills there—for an amateur,
I mean. With a little training, you could hold your own.”

Before working with Adventure Access and their sponsorship of para-athletic events
around the country, Max never even knew there were professional athletes like Luke.
The guy was impressive. “I’m not the dedicated type. I’ll stick to the flashier side—no
pesky results to worry about.”

“There’s flash enough on my end of the deal,” Luke boasted. “You’ll see at the sponsors’
dinner Sunday night.” He gave a knowing smirk. “Lots of ladies.”

That was a business perk Alex hadn’t discussed. “Shame I’ve got a four-o’clock flight
Sunday. Remind me to stay over till Monday next time.”

Luke rolled his massive shoulders and started wheeling toward the equipment trailers.
“Yeah, the competition is fun, but the pity perks are outstanding.”

Max caught up with him. “The what?”

“Aw, come on—you know what I mean. The rehab nurses. The physical therapists. All
those
helping professionals.
” He gave the last two words a locker-room tone of voice, and Max’s mild shock must
have shown on his face. “You’re, what, fourteen months out? Injured last summer, wasn’t
it?”