Taking Chances: Tangled Up Part 36

Bree only lived three blocks from the square. Dillon pulled into the driveway behind Max a few minutes later.

Max strode toward the front door. "You're in and you're out," he told them as Jake and Dillon got out of the truck and followed him up the path.

"We don't want to be rude," Jake said. "If she invites us in-"

"You say no." Max ground his teeth. He was already worried about Bree's state of mind. Or maybe it was his state of mind that had him concerned. And now he had these two jacka.s.ses with him.

Jake seemed completely unfazed.

Max rang the doorbell.

And that irritated him, too.

He wanted to be able to just walk into her house.

h.e.l.l, he wanted it to be his house, too.

"It's open!" Max heard Bree call through the door.

He turned the k.n.o.b and pushed the door open.

"Hi! I was hoping you'd-" Bree stopped midsentence, her eyes widening as she looked at Jake and Dillon.

Max was positive Jake and Dillon had no idea what her eyes were doing, however.

Bree stood just inside the door in cutoff denim shorts, holding two bowls of ice cream in front of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Which was fortunate, considering they were bare.

If she'd been a cup size bigger, the bowls wouldn't have kept her decent.

h.e.l.l, if she'd used less whipped cream on the top of the sundaes, she wouldn't have been decent.

She shook her head and carefully kept the bowls exactly where they were. "I just got everything ready and was going to text you," she said, as if she weren't half-naked. "I'm glad you came over early." She wet her lips and crossed one bare foot over the other.

"Yep, I could go for some ice cream," Jake said.

Max didn't even have to look at him to know he was grinning widely.

"Definitely," Dillon agreed.

"Leave," Max growled.

"But that is a lot of . . . ice cream for just one guy," Jake teased.

He was on edge, his woman was half-naked in front of his cousins, and he was done messing around. Max leaned in from the porch, grabbed the door, and shut it with a slam, blocking their view of Bree.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h." He pushed a hand through his hair.

"Oh, relax. We didn't really see anything," Jake said.

"We've seen her in bikinis before," Dillon added. "That's kind of the same thing as what we just saw."

"It's not that." Max knew every bit of his irritation was showing.

"Still need the marshmallows and stuff," Dillon said, not at all apologetic about what had just happened.

"I'll get them. Just give me a f.u.c.king minute," Max said, pacing to the railing and blowing out a breath. He was torn right down the middle-he wanted to head straight inside and throw Bree over his shoulder and not stop till he got to her bedroom. He also wanted to walk down the porch steps, get in his truck, and drive his a.s.s right back to Oklahoma.

"What is your problem?" Dillon asked.

When Max glanced at him, Dillon didn't look worried. He looked suspicious.

"The hot fudge and whipped cream," Max said. He was aware he was about to sound like an idiot. But if he could make Dillon and Jake understand what he was thinking and feeling, there was a chance that it made some sense.

"You're mad that she had ice cream sundaes ready for you?" Dillon asked with an expression that clearly said that was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

Max shook his head and turned slowly to face Dillon and Jake. He settled his b.u.t.t against the porch railing and crossed his arms. "She's bored. Already."

Jake's expression went from confused to concerned. "What do you mean?"

"We've been having ice cream every night together for the past week. Just ice cream. Sweet Cream Dream. Our favorite."

Dillon spread his feet apart and crossed his arms. "And?"

"I've loved it. It's been enough. It's been perfect. But now she wants whipped cream and hot fudge."

"Okay," Dillon said, clearly not getting it.

"I'm Sweet Cream Dream to her," Max said. "Not hot fudge. I don't know if I can really be hot fudge. Or if I want to be."

Dillon's forehead creased. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

"People have high expectations for hot fudge. People expect hot fudge to be amazing. Every time."

"Max," Dillon said calmly, "you sound like an idiot."

Yeah, he knew that.

"It's hot fudge," Dillon went on. "That's it."

But it wasn't.

"It's an a.n.a.logy," Max said, shifting on the railing because he was uncomfortable with how pathetic he was about to sound.

"Go on," Jake encouraged.

"When I first told her why I didn't want to get involved, I used her ice cream habit as the example as to why. She can't eat the same kind over and over. And a long-term relationship is just like that-the same thing over and over."

Dillon gave him a nod that made Max think maybe he didn't sound completely nuts.

"So we've been eating the same ice cream together every night since we decided we're more than friends."

"And she knows that this is somehow acting as proof of her commitment to you?" Dillon asked.

Max nodded, ignoring Dillon's clear skepticism. "I'm sure she does."

The carton of Sweet Cream Dream on her countertop that first night when she had offered him ice cream while they watched TV had been significant.

"And now that she came to the door with ice cream to celebrate you staying . . . how is this a bad thing?" Jake asked.

"Hot fudge," Max said simply. "And whipped cream, nuts, cherries. G.o.d knows what else."

"Yeah, she might even have sprinkles in there," Dillon said drily. "What a b.i.t.c.h."

Max scowled at him. "It's an a.n.a.logy."

"Right." Dillon didn't roll his eyes, but it was definitely implied.

"She's bored with the same old thing already. She's adding extra stuff now that she knows I'm staying and she'll be getting the same thing over and over forever."

Max felt a coldness in his chest that had nothing to do with ice cream.

"Come on, Max," Jake said. "You're overthinking ice cream. If you're afraid of boring her, the solution is pretty simple. Don't be boring."

Max frowned at him. "Thanks, Dr. Phil."

Jake shook his head. "Seriously, man. If she wants hot fudge, give her hot fudge. h.e.l.l, throw in some caramel sauce once in a while. Or go really wild and get chocolate sprinkles."

"It's a f.u.c.king a.n.a.logy!" Max bellowed.

"I know," Jake said, undeterred by Max's annoyance. "So was mine. What I'm saying is, she clearly wants to do the things she does with you. So do them the way she likes them. If you think she might need to mix things up, take her on a new trip or buy her a new bike or get her a herd of alpacas."

Max's eyebrows went up.

"Alpacas?" Dillon asked.

"It would change things up," Jake pointed out.

"That it would," Dillon agreed. "So, alpacas hang out in herds? Are you sure they aren't flocks? Like sheep?"

"I don't know. We should Google that-" Jake reached for his phone.

"Okay," Max interrupted. "I've got it."

Jake leveled him with a look. "Do you?"

Max continued to frown at them both. But, yeah, he couldn't quite blow off what Jake had said.

"She hangs out between your visits, just waiting for you to come back," Jake said. "She never skydives or flies or skis or dives with anyone else. And she's never been serious about another guy. You're her guy, the one who matters, the one she wants to be with."

"When she's jumping out of an airplane, maybe," Max argued.

"For Bree, that's the biggest, most important, most exciting and fun thing she does," Dillon said. "And she only wants to do it with you."

Max shook his head slowly, but he couldn't deny there was a little piece of his mind-or maybe it was his heart-that had to admit they had a point.

"She was-is-f.u.c.k, I don't know-was planning to go to Arizona to teach skydiving," he said. "Then she'd be skydiving with lots of people other than me."

Dillon frowned. "Well, she hasn't left yet. She's here, Max. In my experience, Bree goes when she wants to go."

"She can't. She finally has a job where she has to give notice, and the new job doesn't start for a while."

"Yeah, well, she doesn't act like a woman who wants to teach skydiving in Arizona," Dillon said.

No. She was acting like a woman who was getting bored with her relationship in Chance. "I can't leave her alone, but I can't make her want what I want," Max said. "And I don't know for sure that I can be what she wants-"

"You're right. The ice cream is an a.n.a.logy."

The guys all swung toward where Bree was once again framed in the doorway. She'd set down the ice cream and pulled on a shirt, though.

Max's heart felt like it hit the floor at her words. He'd known it. She wanted to change things up. Now that she knew he'd be here for good, she needed to.

Bree stepped onto the porch in her bare feet, carrying a cardboard box. "Here's the stuff for Kit," she said to Dillon, handing over the box of graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars.

"Thanks," Dillon said.

"Now, if you guys will excuse us, Max and I need to talk."

And suddenly he didn't want Jake and Dillon to go. Max started to tell them that, but they were already down the porch steps and across the gra.s.s.

Dammit.

He turned to face her and drew a long breath. G.o.d, she was beautiful.

At the moment, she also looked vulnerable. Something he'd noticed more and more since he'd been home this time. He kind of hated that. It was a softer side of her, and he would have thought that he'd like that. But it wasn't her. Bree was confident and kick-a.s.s and sure of herself.

And right now she looked very unsure. Of him.

That hit him hard. Of all the things he'd seen on this woman's face, that had never been one of them. She trusted him. She knew he loved her and was there for her. Feeling unsure and vulnerable because of him was not acceptable.

That was all it took for him to realize what had to happen.

As Dillon's truck doors slammed, Bree turned on her heel and headed into the house. Max followed reluctantly. He kicked the door shut behind him as Bree stopped next to the couch and faced him.

"You're wrong about me, Max."

"Am I?"

She crossed her arms. "Yes."