Colorado Mountain series by Kristen Ashley

“Um…” I mumbled again, not knowing what to say about the fact that Max bought me a ring that cost a fortune. I knew how much the earrings cost; if the ring was more that was saying something.

But Caroline didn’t give me the chance to say anything, she kept right on going.

“I’ve wanted those earrings for ages, had my eye on them for… ev… er. I keep startin’ to save and then shit happens. Still, I hope someday to live the dream.” The entire time she spoke, Caroline did it through a big smile. “The ring, shoo! No way!”

For some insane reason, I told her, “Max bought it for me.”

At this news, her eyes bugged out and her mouth dropped open.

Then she twisted her torso to look at Max still holding my hand and she practically shrieked, “Killer! I love this!”

My mind was racing to find a way to make this news a little less “killer” and thus stop it from being spread around town when her fingers curled tight around my hand, she turned back to me and shook it with excitement. At that my hopes were dashed and I knew this would be all over town in a matter of hours. Maybe minutes.

“Caro, you wanna let Nina go? We gotta get into town,” Max said and I knew from his voice he was grinning and also he didn’t mind if news of his ring on my finger was around town within minutes.

“Oh, right,” Caroline muttered and dropped my hand then swept my empty mug out of my other one. “I’ll take that, you two get.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said to her.

“Right back at ‘cha, sister,” she said to me, turning toward the sink and I decided that I was definitely going to like Caroline. She had great skin, warm eyes and any woman who calls other women “sister” was a woman you’d like.

Max caught my hand, I quickly grabbed my purse from the counter and Max led me to the closet. Then he opened it, grabbed my coat and helped me put it on. Then he took my hand again and without putting on a jacket he led me to the door. He was, by the way, wearing a pair of jeans, boots and a heavy, navy blue, flannel shirt over a white thermal.

“Later, Caro,” he called as he opened the door.

“Later,” she called back and I heard the sink go on.

“Lock up when you leave, would you?” Max asked from the open door he’d pushed us through.

“Gotcha,” she replied on a wave and Max closed the door.

It was cold, definitely colder than it had been and there was a new layer of snow over the other layer that hadn’t quite gone away. It coated the landscape in white and made Max’s vista brand new again. There wasn’t much snow, maybe an inch or more, but it was there and the effect was magnificent.

There were also clouds covering the sun and the steps had been cleared but the gravel drive was still blanketed with white.

“You gonna be safe in those heels?” Max asked, dropping my hand and sliding his arm around my shoulders as we started down the steps.

“I think so,” I replied but suddenly, on the last step, his arm disappeared from my shoulders then reappeared behind my knees, sweeping my legs out from under me.

I started to fall, a small cry escaping my lips but he caught me in his arms, lifted me and carried me to the Cherokee.

“Max!” I exclaimed, wondering what Caroline would think if she was watching and she was probably watching.

“I’m hungry,” he stated, crunching through the snow to the Jeep. “You breakin’ your neck will keep me from breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t have broken my neck,” I snapped.

“Not takin’ the chance.”

“I’ve been walking on high heels since I was six and my Mom bought me plastic, little girl dress up shoes,” I informed him.

“Still not takin’ the chance.”

I really had no option but to let him carry me, regardless of what Caroline would think (and tell everyone in town). I couldn’t exactly wrestle him in my present position, he might drop me and I wouldn’t win anyway.

Therefore I muttered, “Whatever,” as he opened the door and set me in the seat.

He slammed the door, rounded the hood and got in as I buckled my seat belt. He strapped himself in, started up, did a three-point turn and drove down the lane.

“I’ll take you, Nellie and Steve to The Mark for breakfast after you do your thing,” Max offered as he turned into the road.

“The Mark?” I asked.

“Where we had burgers,” Max answered.

I liked the idea of revisiting The Mark where we’d had our first kind of date. And visiting it with Mom and Steve. Mom, like me, loved her food and Steve was a no-nonsense, stick-to-your-ribs food kind of guy so I knew he’d enjoy it. Something to look forward to after something definitely not worth looking forward to.

“They do breakfast?” I queried.

“Best biscuits and gravy you’ve ever tasted,” he replied and guided the Cherokee through another turn.

I scrunched my nose. “Um… I’m not a biscuits and gravy person,” I told him.

He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his thigh. “They also make homemade granola. Never eaten it but everything at The Mark is good.”

Homemade granola. I’d never had homemade granola. That did sound good.

We drove for awhile in silence and when Max had to make another turn and downshift to do it he placed my hand on his leg and this time, of my own accord, I turned it and curled my fingers around his solid thigh.

There was a fresh nuance to this action that I liked a great deal. I’d touched his hard thigh na**d in bed, in the sauna and in the shower and I’d felt it between my legs. It felt better na**d and in those places and touching it just then keenly and pleasantly brought up the reminder.

I let that nuance wash over me and closed my eyes at the happy feel of it then they popped open when an unwanted, unwelcome, highly intrusive and intensely painful thought popped into my head.

That thought was to wonder if Max held Anna’s hand while he drove and curved her fingers around his thigh when he had to let her go.

And that thought was so intrusive and so painful, it made me slide my hand away. I hid this from Max by using it to pull my hair from my face. Then I snapped down the visor, snapped up the cover for the mirror and dug into my purse to find my lipstick.

We neared the main road and Max stopped to wait for a clearing to make a left.

“Nervous, Duchess?” he murmured softly as I uncapped my lip liner and focused on my lips.

I wasn’t, not really. Instead I was thinking about Max and the dead love of his life and trying not to let those thoughts sear my soul.