Summer in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 2) (9 page)

Floyd had been right, Max realized. People
were
talking.

He decided it’d be a good idea to mention to Prim he wanted her to call him day or night if she heard or saw anything suspicious.

“We’re going to hit the barbecue line.” Cory took his wife’s arm and glanced at Max. “Want to join us? Or can we get you anything?”

“I’m fine. Thanks. I’ll catch you later.” Max turned and meandered in the direction of the beverage tables.

After being stopped several times by friends and people wanting to talk about the parade, the tables holding large galvanized tubs filled with ice, beer, and an assortment of soft drink bottles grew near.

“Max.”

With a resigned smile, Max turned.

Eliza, stunning as a scorpion in a red dress, stared at him through slitted eyes. A bottle of Corona dangled between her thumb and forefinger, moving like a pendulum back and forth. “Going to see your girlfriend?”

Max tilted his head.

“Primrose.” Eliza gestured with her head to where Prim and her family stood. “Your
girlfriend
.”

She emphasized the word, a malevolent gleam in her eyes.

Max remembered when he’d have given anything to hear those words. But not from Eliza. And not now. “What do you want?”

The executive director lifted the bottle and took a delicate sip, her smile easy, those gray eyes hard as steel. “I’m sure by now she’s told you all about her performance at the planning meeting.”

“Prim mentioned she gave our report.”

“I’m warning you.” Eliza’s voice held an icy edge. “This parade is important. Not only to the Cherries and to Good Hope but to me. For both your sakes, you’d better be giving it the attention it deserves.”

“Is that a threat?” His tone could have frosted glass.

“You shoved her down my throat, getting her sister and Gladys to team up and sway the vote.” Eliza’s eyes never left his. “Let me speak frankly, Max. If anything goes wrong with the parade, I’ll make sure it’s your and Prim’s ass in the sling, not mine. That’s not a threat, that’s a promise.”

C
hapter
N
ine

Prim watched Max approach and, conscious of Anita’s watchful gaze, schooled her features into a pleasant smile.

Her father greeted Max warmly, slapping him on the back. “How’ve you been, son?”

“Keeping busy.” Max slanted a sideways glance at Prim and offered a smile.

Her traitorous heart gave a little leap.

“I’m glad I ran into you tonight, Max.” Ami stepped forward to give him a quick hug. “I’m hosting an impromptu housewarming at Prim’s house tomorrow night. I’d love it if you could make it.”

Beck had just walked up, and though his expression gave nothing away, because Prim was facing him, she saw the brief flash of surprise in his eyes.

Apparently the housewarming Ami was hosting was news to him. Just like it was to Prim.

“I’m not sure—” Max stopped when Beck placed a hand on his shoulder.

“He’ll be there.” Beck’s tone brooked no argument. Surprised or not, he was backing his wife’s wishes.

“I told you that a housewarming isn’t necessary,” Prim demurred, giving her sister a pointed look.

“And I told you it is.” Ami’s tone, while pleasant, was as firm and unyielding as her husband’s. “It’ll be great fun. I’ll bring the food, so you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Something was going on here; Prim just couldn’t figure out what it was yet.

“This seems awfully last-minute to me.” Anita pursed her lips, a suspicious gleam in her eyes. “Lindsay and I are spending the weekend shopping in Milwaukee, so I won’t be back until Sunday night.”

“I know, that’s what you said.” Ami’s face was all sympathy. “It’s too bad you’ll have to miss the housewarming.”

“It could be rescheduled.” Anita glanced at Steve.

“Not my party, honey.” He patted her shoulder in a comforting gesture, then glanced at Ami, a question in his eye.

“Unfortunately this is the only time that worked.” Again, her tone oozed sympathy and regret, but Prim wasn’t fooled.

Unless she was misreading the signs, Ami had specifically set this time so the family could be together without Anita. But why was Ami so insistent Max come? What if he had plans with his new girlfriend? “Max, you don’t have—”

“I thought we could show the videotape of last year’s parade,” Ami interrupted. “You mentioned at the meeting you and Max were planning to review it. We can all munch on popcorn while we offer suggestions for possible improvement.”

“That’s a good idea.” Max turned to Prim. “We do need to move ahead on the parade. If changes are going to be made, it needs to be soon.”

Prim nodded, surprised at the fervor in his tone.

“I still think you could find another time,” Anita huffed.

“Let it go, honey,” Steve said in a low tone they all heard.

Anita’s hazel eyes flashed, telling Prim she was poised for battle. Prim wondered who would feel her wrath. It wouldn’t be her dad. Anita was smart enough to know she could only push him so far.

“I don’t believe I’ve met your date.” Anita pinned Max with a take-no-prisoners gaze. “Who is she, anyway? And why is she chatting up Jeremy Rakes instead of staying with the man that brought her?”

“Her name is Charlotte McCray.” Though he responded to Anita, Max’s eyes remained on Prim’s face. “She’s a friend.”

“A friend you brought to one of the biggest social events of the summer.” Anita’s lips lifted in a sly smile. “Sounds like more than a friend to me.”

The anger that slammed into Prim told her Anita’s barbs had achieved the desired result. While it was true Prim had no claim on him, why had he kissed her with such sweet emotion? The way he’d acted had made her believe she was someone special to him.

As if afraid she might lash out, Ami looped her arm through Prim’s. After a warning squeeze, her sister smiled at Max. “I can’t wait to speak with her and get acquainted.”

“Looks as if you’re about to get your chance.” Anita’s eyes glittered in the glow of the Chinese lanterns. “She’s on her way over here now.”

Everything about Charlotte McCray was high-end: hair, makeup, clothes . . . even the confident smile that showed a mouthful of straight, white teeth.

When Charlotte zeroed in on Max like a homing pigeon come to roost, it took all of Prim’s self-control to paste a welcoming smile on her lips.

Once again Prim told herself she had no claim on Max. He was free to attend barbeques with whomever he liked. But why did he have to bring Charlotte? Hadn’t Max seen that for every minute she wasn’t batting her eyelashes at him she was busy making eyes at Jeremy? Apparently a tight wrap dress that barely covered her cleavage was more than enough to excuse Charlotte’s nonexclusive flirting.

And who in their right mind would even consider Jeremy when they were on a date with Max? Prim couldn’t trust the sanity of a woman who didn’t realize she was already on the arm of the best man in Good Hope.

It doesn’t matter.
Prim’s anger deflated like an untied balloon. If it wasn’t Charlotte, it would be someone else. A great guy like Max wouldn’t stay single forever.

Prim wanted him to be happy, to find that special someone.

Just not Charlotte.

Just not now.

“It was sure nice of Ami to arrange this housewarming.” Max took a sip of wine and gazed around the comfortable living room. Though Prim had barely moved in, the place already had a homey feel.

He tapped the edge of a picture to straighten it, then turned back to Steve. The two men stood by the front window.

“I’m glad you could make it. It wouldn’t have been the same without you here.” Steve clapped Max on the shoulder. “It’s just too bad Anita couldn’t have joined us.”

The older man appeared serious so Max merely nodded, though he knew the evening wouldn’t have been nearly so pleasant with Anita in attendance.

“That looks like something off a Hallmark card.” Max gestured with his glass of wine to where Beck sat on the floor building a Lincoln Log fort with the twins.

Prim’s father tilted his head, considered. “Better if there was snow falling outside and a fire blazing in the hearth.”

Max studied the scene, grinned. “And Beck should be wearing one of those red sweaters with a bunch of dancing reindeers across the front.”

At the sound of his voice, his friend looked up and started to rise.

“Go back to playing with the kids.” Steve waved him down. “Max and I are just planning a Christmas card.”

After a quizzical look, Beck shook his head and picked up another log.

“Boris needs reindeer antlers.” Max swore the wolfhound, crouched down and waiting for an opportunity to steal a log, got a pained expression.

“That would complete the picture,” Steve agreed, chuckling as he took a sip of wine.

“You’ve got a wonderful family, Steve.” Max spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, ignoring the emotion that kept trying to clog his throat. The Bloom family was special, always had been, and always would be.

They genuinely enjoyed spending time together. Conversation and wine had flowed freely while they’d feasted on prime rib, au gratin potatoes, and spinach salad with cranberries and blue cheese crumbles. Max had enjoyed himself so thoroughly he’d forgotten for a moment he wasn’t one of them.

Oh, he knew how to play the part. Just like when Sarah was alive, when dinner ended, he’d gotten up with the other men to clear the table. Prim and Ami had chased the men out of the kitchen so they could load the dishwasher. From where Max stood in the living room, he could hear the sounds of their laughter.

What would it be like to truly be part of this family? To be Prim’s husband and Callum and Connor’s father? The fact that he could so easily see it gave Max a little jolt. Was it too much to hope Prim was over Rory? It
had
been two years . . .

“I’ve missed seeing you.”

Max looked up to find Steve’s gaze on his face.

“You don’t come all that often.”

“You know how it is, life gets in the way.” Max kept his tone light. “You’re busy, too. You have Anita. And your family.”

“Stop right there. You’re family as much as anyone here.” The older man stabbed Max in the chest with a pointed finger. “When you and I were matched all those years ago, you became my son. You’ve shared this family’s ups and downs, and you were there for me when Sarah died. I don’t want to hear any more of that kind of talk.”

Max nodded. The lump that now filled his throat prevented him from commenting. He shifted his gaze, searching for something, anything, to discuss that didn’t involve emotions. He found it on the top shelf of the corner curio cabinet. “That’s an interesting vase.”

It was sleek and black with a white Aztec design. Oddly, instead of being open at the top, it held some kind of stopper.

“That’s Rory.”

“Rory bought it?”

“No.” Steve smiled slightly, though his expression remained serious. “That’s an urn, Max, not a vase. It holds Rory’s ashes.”

Max had fallen off his bike when he was ten and had the air knocked out of him. He remembered that feeling. He felt that way now.

“I-I’d have thought he’d want to be scattered to the winds.” Max cleared his throat. “Maybe from the observation tower in Peninsula Park. Or around Good Hope.”

“That’s what he did want.”

Prim’s voice sounded behind him. Max whirled. Her eyes were as flat as her voice.

“Deb didn’t want him cremated, but that’s what he wanted. I followed his wishes.”

Her father offered a sympathetic smile. “Knowing Deb, she probably wanted him in a spot where she could go and visit, keep vigil.”

Prim gave a slight nod. “I don’t know if you remember, but she pushed to have him buried in the family plot at the Lutheran cemetery. I don’t believe she’s forgiven me for not following her wishes.”

Steve squeezed her shoulder, his hazel eyes, so like hers, dark with sympathy. “You had to do what Rory wanted. She’ll come to realize that one day.”

But Steve didn’t mention, and neither did Max, that Prim had only followed Rory’s wishes so far. Yes, she’d had him cremated. She hadn’t scattered his ashes.

Was it her way of holding on to him?

Max didn’t ask. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But it gave him pause, made him wonder.

“Five-minute warning,” Ami called out. “I’m loading the video of the parade.”

“Time to pick up.” Beck reached for the large plastic container where the logs were stored.

“Nooooo,” the twins whined in unison.

Normally Max would have found their exaggerated protests amusing, but right now, nothing amused him.

He touched Prim’s arm, kept his voice low. “May I speak with you a minute?”

Surprise flicked in those hazel depths. “Sure.”

She stepped closer to the window and looked up at him, that gorgeous freckled face framed by a mass of red-gold curls. “What is it, Max? If it’s about Charlotte and last night, truly it’s none of my business who you date.”

“Charlotte is a friend of sorts, not even that, really. More of a business associate.” Max had made that clear when he’d taken Charlotte home. Thankfully, she’d told him she hadn’t felt a connection, either. “That isn’t what I want to discuss with you . . .”

Prim looked up at him with that sweet, trusting expression. What did it matter if she still had Rory on the shelf? It wasn’t his business. She’d made it clear she wasn’t wanting to date.

She touched his hand. “Max?”

His heart swelled with love, and he knew that even if she never loved him back, couldn’t love him back, he would do whatever he could to protect her. “About the burglaries. If you see or hear anything unusual, I want you to call me. Day or night.”

“No one is going to—”

“Promise me, Prim.”

“I promise.” She smiled that bright, sunny smile that always warmed his heart, then tugged on his hand. “Now, let’s go watch the video. Eliza won’t be happy unless the parade is a smashing success.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he muttered and let her lead him to the sofa.