Love Lifted Me (4 page)

“Do you think Asa will remember me?”

“Sure, Max. I show him your picture—every night.”

“You show him my picture?” Max rose up, reaching for her, taking hold of her arm and palming the curve of her cheek. “Thank you for taking care of him. For loving him, Jade.”

“How could I resist? The little booger is all charm and sweetness.” Max's touch ignited fiery shivers. “I . . . I'm in love with . . . him . . . already.” She couldn't think. Only feel. If Max didn't stop stroking his thumb across her cheek she'd collapse into a quivering puddle at any moment.

He'd told himself the whole flight home to go slow. Gentle his way back into Jade's heart and mind. Not go all
husband
on her.

But alone with her in her office, all bets were off. He pulled her to him and her curvy soft body started a consuming blaze. He ached to kiss her, carry her upstairs to the shop's loft, and make love.

He wanted to show her the old Max was dead. The new and improved Max stood before her, a solid and trustworthy man. Faithful as the rising sun. But he couldn't
tell
her; he had to show her. Going for sex within thirty minutes of his homecoming wasn't his best first move.

Besides, the loft? Too fraternity. And his hands all sweaty from nerves. So, he let go. One thing he'd learned at the ranch was to let go. He backed toward the door.

“I thought I'd bunk in Beryl's old room until we work things out. We are going to work things out, aren't we, Jade?”

She nodded. “We'd kick ourselves if we didn't try.” She moved toward him and brushed her hand over his check, her mountain-flower fragrance filling his senses. “Cowboy stubble.”

“Should I shave?” Max cleared his throat. Nothing like stoking his passion fire just when he'd doused the flame. “Too Marlboro Man?”

“No, not at all.” She tipped her head to one side. Even the swing of her ponytail was sexy. “Max Benson, the Marlboro Man lawyer.”

“There you go.” He grinned. “See you at home?” He nearly bent to kiss her cheek, but backed up, opening the door.

“Sure. Asa will be happy to see you, Max. He will.” Jade led the way back into the shop, passing through the shower of sun drops falling through the back window. “I can order Mario's. Didn't you say you missed his pizza?”

“I did, yeah.” But was he hungry? He was starving. But not for Mario's. Max hoisted his duffel bag to his shoulder. “See you soon.”

“Okay.” She exhaled, shyly digging her hands in her pockets. It was her go-to move and it endeared her to Max even more. If possible. “See you at . . . home.”

He wanted to kiss her, darn it. Lillabeth shuffled around the shop, passing between and around them.
Forget it
. Max dropped his duffel bag to the hardwood floor and crossed to Jade in a few quick strides, scooping her into his arms. “I'm going to kiss you, Jade.” His pulse thundered in his ears.

“Who's stopping you?”

Max traced his fingertips along the base of her neck, slipping his hand into her hair. Gooseflesh rose on his skin as he whispered a kiss to her lips as if casually saying hello. Then he sank into her fragrance and taste, wrapping her tighter and losing himself in the moment. Jade yielded, molding into him. When she ran her hands over his back they were like hot coals.

As he released her, she pressed out of his arms, trembling, resting her fingers over her lips. “I'll”—she inhaled—“see you at home.”

“Yeah, see you at home.” What happened? It was the perfect kiss until it ended. Her yes morphed to a no.

Retrieving his duffel, Max exited the Blue Umbrella, reminding himself again to be cool, go slow.

He dashed across Main Street, aiming toward Laurel Park and the side roads that led to Begonia Valley Lane.

Breaking into a light jog, Max cut through the fresh, cool air of the Hollow. The dewy texture was a welcomed contrast to the hot, arid air of Texas. Home. It was good to be home. And close to the arms of his wife again.

Four

Sometime after ten, Jade made her way through the house, turning off lights. With Max home, the atmosphere had changed. Felt fuller. Complicated. Maybe balanced was the word. Definitely a combination of joy and sorrow.

Over pizza, he shared the things God had taught him while at the Outpost. Jade envied his journey a bit. Painful, yes, but glorious. She could see in his eyes and hear in his voice how he'd changed. How encountering Jesus healed his self-inflicted wounds and removed his shame.

Her heart pulsed for him. The man she fell in love with had returned. Only more so. She felt as if she'd found a polished, gleaming gem.

But it was all surreal. Too good to be true.

“Max?” With the last light out, Jade jogged up the stairs. When she hit the second-floor landing, she caught a soft glow coming from Asa's room.

“Max?” she whispered, pausing outside the door.

“Yeah, in here.”

Jade slipped inside and settled on the floor by Asa's bed. “What are you doing?”

Max rested against the opposite wall, in the glow of the night-light, his arms propped on his raised knees. A lock of his glossy, loose hair slipped over his cheek.

“He's not moved since I tucked him in.”

“I'm not surprised. You wore him out tonight.”

“Me? I'm beat. And I just spent three months on a working ranch and coaching football camp.”

“He does play hard. Sleeps like a rock too.” Remembering this, Jade raised her voice from a whisper. She straightened Asa's legs and fixed his covers.

“He remembered me.”

“I told you he would.”

“I owe you, Jade.”

“Stop. You don't.”

“I asked you to raise my secret son while I knocked the kinks out of my life. You embraced the challenge when you could've walked.”

“Asa's won my heart, Max. I did it for him.”
And yes, you
. Which was so hard to confess. His humility confronted her. She wanted a defensive, partly broken Max to return to home. Not this . . . cowboy hero.

Jade stood. “I think I need a Diet Coke.” From the corner of her eyes, she could see Max pushing up off the floor, following.

A Diet Coke would taste good, but what Jade really wanted was to break away from Max's steady gaze and gentle confessions.

But now he was following her downstairs.

She'd expected to duke out their relationship over months, slowly letting go of her hurt and anger. Gently releasing her hold on the affair and lies. She wanted to punish him. Hadn't she earned that guilty pleasure?

But how could she when he readily spoke of his failures and owned his mistakes? Maybe he could handle the news about Rice.

She'd imagined telling him several times tonight but couldn't bring herself to do it. She needed proof. Max would ask a hundred questions once she unfurled the news and her answer had to be more than, “Taylor said.”

If not for Max, then for herself.

Max's footsteps tapped on the marble foyer floor in time with hers. In the kitchen, Jade jerked opened the fridge door and reached for a soda can.

“Do you want one?” She peered back at Max standing on the other side of the island.

“Yeah, sure.” He took the can from her with the same piercing look he'd worn in Asa's room.

Jade leaned against the sink as she popped open her drink. If she wanted more space between them, she'd have to go out to the porch. And he'd just follow her.

“I already loved you, Jade, but coming home and seeing how you love Asa as your own . . . it makes me want you even more.”

Max's tone and inflection swirled a warm bevy of her emotions against her cold heart.

Jade took a long sip of her soda.

“He'll be two soon,” she said, moderating her tone to between casual and cool. “I researched potty training for boys who sleep deep. Did you know we can buy an alarm to wake him up at the first drop of urine?”

Max shot her a sleepy grin. “What deep psychological ramifications will that have on the poor kid?”

“I know, right?” Jade swallowed, fighting the power of his pull. How was a girl to resist when a man kept looking at her like he could get lost in her charms? Jade had standards to keep. A litmus test for establishing trust. “Hey, baby, I want you,” just wasn't going to cut it.

But deep down she yearned to wrap in his arms and burrow into his chest. Live in the moment.

“Tell me about you, Jade. How are you doing, really? Any more episodes of panic, the depersonalizing?”

Right. Those
. Last time Max saw her, she was running freaked-out down the road after Mama's funeral. She had been diagnosed with severe anxiety and depersonalization disorder, but she'd been on her own healing journey. Not as intense as Max's, but focused on God's truth.

“I saw the counselor in Des Moines all spring. Met with Carla Colter's pastor twice a week. All we did was pray, but those times were the ones where I left changed.” She paused. She'd never assessed her time in Iowa verbally before—not in those terms. A breeze of relief cooled her heart. Prayer worked. “No attacks since Mama's funeral.”

He smiled. “I prayed for you, a lot. Axel's big on prayer. ‘What is the counsel of men compared to the counsel of God?' ”

“I prayed for you too.”

“So maybe we start there, Jade. The first stepping-stone toward healing us is prayer.”

She nodded. “And we'll see where it leads.” It seemed like a safe place. Prayer with Max, and God sitting in between. “Oh, I'm selling the Blue Two.”

“Yeah? You never were sure about that place anyway.”

“For a while, it was a necessary burden. But not anymore.”
So, I met this woman, Taylor Branch .
. .

She breathed in, ready to speak.

“I'm sorry about the kiss in the shop.”

Jade stared at him. See, there was never the right segue. “It was a good kiss.”

A toe-curling, heart-caressing kiss.

“It was a great kiss,” Max said.

His sleepy-sexy was about to do her in. It would be so easy to surrender. Jade felt suddenly weary of flashing her palm and telling life to stand back, she didn't want to get hurt. But if she waved Max back into her bed, would she regret her late-night impulse in the morning? Oh wow, what if he said no? She'd not even considered that.

“Jade.” Max got her attention. “Do you want to be married to me?”

Million-dollar question. She'd like to phone a friend.

“Remember when you asked me to marry you?”

“Which time? The first? The second? Or the third? I liked my first time best. Kind of raw and impulsive.”

“And on the streets of Manhattan with hot dog mustard all over our lips.”

“But it was sincere, Jade.”

“I felt it then. I wanted to go running down Broadway screaming yes.”

He stood straight, shoulders squaring back. “Faker! Why'd you say no then? Sting my heart that-a-way?”

“Because, dude, I'd been married once to a romantic, passionate guy who promised me forever. I got five months.”

“I didn't know about Dustin then.”

“See, this is why we need to be forthcoming in our relationship, tell each other things.”

He laughed and toasted her with his soda can. “I'm not the one who said ‘let the skeletons stay in the closet.' ”

“No, but you quickly agreed.”

“Jade, don't you know, I'd have walked across hot coals up Signal Mountain if you'd have asked me to.”

“But you couldn't stay out of Rice's bed?”

He deflated, sipping his drink. “You got me there. I can't . . . I don't know what . . . it happened. Not enough wishing and praying can undo it.”

“So ask me your question again.”

“Jade, do you want to be married to me?”

“Do you want to be married to me?”

He laughed. “You've learned too many legal tricks. Yes, babe, yes. More than breathing I want to be married to you.”

“I'm scared.”

“But I'm not, Jade.” Max scooted over to her. “I believe in us. I believe in God keeping us. I
know
we can do this.”

His intensity flared and challenged her to believe too. “You're so persuasive, Max. I hear you. I feel what you're saying. My heart is shouting
believe, trust
. But my head is saying
don't you dare
. You have a way of making me feel so safe, Max. Like I can do anything with you by my side. But then you do something so stupid as forge prescription drugs and get addicted. Or cover up a very large secret.”

“Help me fix that image you have of me, Jade. Give me a chance. Do you want to be married to me?”