Chapter 19
Chapter 19
To Max’s surprise George turned up at the ranch before seven and spent a long time chatting amiably to Luke about the horses, the barn, and the state of ranching in California while helping with the chores. He’d come dressed in jeans and a fleece with a weird green waxed jacket in case it rained. Luke offered him boots and a hat to complete the cowboy look and they were on their way.
Phoebe had decided to stay at the ranch and meet them at lunch, which suited Max fine because he was more than ready for a quiet word with George if he got out of line. Like his sister, George was an excellent rider and Max had no worries that he wouldn’t cope with the pace. They were headed to the far northern boundary of the ranch where they’d had reports of broken fences and escapees near the county road, which was never good news.
Part of the route was on an old logging path through the redwood forest, which none of the retired Marines liked navigating because the visibility was so poor. Max did like the dappled shade and the horses certainly appreciated it. Luke called for a halt in a clearing by the creek and everyone dismounted and made sure their mounts had access to water.
George came straight up to Max with two cups of coffee.
“Peace offering?”
“Sure.” Max took the cup.
“I was not at my best yesterday and I apologize for how I must have sounded.” George met Max’s gaze; his eyes the same color as Phoebe’s. “I obviously misinterpreted the situation.”
“You mean, I’m not a gold digger?” Max asked.
“As I said, I was rather jet-lagged, and my temper was short. Phoebe and I have always had a somewhat volatile relationship, but it was bad form on our parts to exhibit such behavior in a public place and in front of you.”
Man, George liked the big words and the sound of his own posh voice.
“It’s all good,” Max said. “We’re family, right?”
“I suppose we are—if only temporarily.”
“What makes you think that?” Max knew he was walking into something, but if he didn’t take the bait, he’d never know what George was after.
George looked around the clearing. “With all due respect, Max, can you really see Phoebe living here?”
“Right here?” Max said. “Nah, it’s a bit remote. We’re planning on building closer to the main house. I’ll show you when we get back.”
“I meant in the US. Her family roots go back to the Norman conquest.”
“We all have roots. Sometimes they benefit from a transplant and some grafting.”
“That is certainly true. We’ve had some right nutters in our family when cousins married,” George laughed heartily. “But as Phoebe’s brother, I just can’t imagine her being happy here.”
“And, as her husband, I’m going to disagree with you there, buddy. But that’s up to Phoebe. I’m not going to make her live anywhere she doesn’t want to.”
“That’s good to know,” George said.
“And, hey, I could come over, right? I bet you’ve got some cows that need herding on one of those farms Phoebe says you have.”
George smiled. “I can’t quite see you on a dairy farm the size of a sixpence, but I’m impressed you’d be willing to try considering my sister tricked you into marrying her.”
“She didn’t fool me for a minute,” Max said.
“That’s very generous of you, Max, but she did put you in a remarkably difficult situation. I can only apologize.”
“There’s no need.”
George didn’t look convinced. “One would’ve thought that if Phoebe wanted you to become a farmer, she would’ve mentioned it years ago and insisted you came over.”
“I was busy here,” Max said. “And Phoebe was looking after her father.”
“I suppose so.” George held out his hand. “May I take your cup? I think we’re about to ‘move out’ as you might say.”
* * *
Phoebe looked out of the window for the umpteenth time and finally caught a glimpse of some movement down by the barn. Max had texted her that they were on their way back ages ago and she and Sally had prepared lunch together. Eventually, two cowboys appeared walking closely together, and chatting. Phoebe only recognized George when he took off his borrowed hat. Luke went on through to the kitchen, leaving them alone in the mudroom.
“Phoebe.” George looked at her. “I am deeply sorry for my behavior. I’d really like to try again. This situation benefits no one.”
He looked contrite but she wasn’t sure she believed him.
“What did you do with Max?” she asked.
“He’ll be here in a moment. He kindly offered to deal with my horse so that I could have a moment to speak to you alone.” He paused. “He’s a nice man, Phoebe. I’m not sure why you dragged him into all this.”
Phoebe went still. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“He seems to think you’ll come and live here.”
The outside door opened, and Max came in. His gaze met Phoebe’s over George’s head.
“Everything okay?”
“I was just telling Phoebe that she needs to be honest with you, Max.”
“She is.”
George looked at Phoebe. “Have you told him what you’re trying to get from the estate?”
“I’m not sure that’s relevant to—” Phoebe started to speak, but her brother talked over her.
“Phoebe needs to stay married.”
“Okay.” Max didn’t seem upset. “So, we stay married.”
“I bet she didn’t tell you why that’s important.” George cleared his throat. “Originally Phoebe thought all she needed to do to break the entail on the property willed to her by our grandfather was to get married. When that didn’t quite do the trick, she regrouped, and somehow managed to convince you to stay married to her, and our father to add a codicil to his will that allowed what she wanted to happen.”
“You think I planned this all out like a master strategist, George?” Phoebe asked. “That I used Max and then my dying father to get what I wanted?”
George shrugged. “I’m sorry, but that’s what it looks like to me, Phoebe. Please feel free to offer me an alternative version.”
Max put his arm around Phoebe, directing George’s attention back to him.
“Phoebe devoted three years of her life to taking care of your father, right?”
George nodded.
“Meaning the rest of you could just get on with your lives without worrying because you knew he was in good hands.” Max looked at George. “Did it ever occur to you that your father changed his will because he was grateful for what Phoebe gave up for him, and he wanted to set her free?”
Silence fell and Phoebe only realized she was crying when a tear slid down her cheek.
George frowned. “That’s all very well, but—”
Max interrupted him. “How could you look at Phoebe and see anything but good intentions there? She gave up everything for your family and this is how you repay her by making shit up?”
“Max . . .” Phoebe stepped between him and her brother.
“I’m just sorry she used you, Max.” George still hadn’t finished.
“She didn’t,” Max said simply. “Now, do you two want to eat lunch like civilized people. It’s never good to argue on an empty stomach.”
* * *
Max ate something, smiled at the right time, and laughed when Luke made one of his so-called jokes, but his mind was busy rerunning the earlier conversation with George and Phoebe. He had so many questions it was hard to focus and only Phoebe could answer them. Eventually, he met her apprehensive gaze across the table.
“Can I borrow you for a few minutes, Feebs?”
“Yes, of course.” She stood up and smiled at her brother. “I won’t be long.”
She followed Max into the bedroom and waited until he closed the door.
“Thank you for sticking up for me, Max. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me.”
“You’re welcome.” He leaned back against the door. “I want you to know I’ll always support you in public against your brother and family, but I’d like an explanation as to what he said.”
Phoebe sank down on the side of the bed. “What exactly would you like to know?”
He shrugged. “The truth? All of it? Because I think I deserve it before you leave.”
“George made it sound as if I planned everything. I didn’t.” She gulped in a breath. “I told you the truth when we met that I needed to be married to receive my inheritance. When I returned to England, I was told that wasn’t good enough. At the time, I didn’t have the ability to do anything about it because I was too busy looking after my father and I didn’t know your whereabouts. I had no idea my father changed his will until after he died or that he’d added that clause to further negate the original instructions from Grandfather’s will to release the property to me. They are two totally separate events that George tried to merge into one to make me look bad.”
He studied her for what felt like forever. “I wish I’d heard all that from you upfront rather than from George.”
“I didn’t want to drag you into a fight that wasn’t yours.”
“That’s kind of a lame excuse, Feebs. If I were a suspicious man, I might wonder at your timing.”
She blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
“You came to find me after your father died.”
“Yes.” She frowned.
“You told me there were still legal issues because our original marriage hadn’t fixed everything.”
“That’s correct.”
“But if your father’s will had already cleared the way for you to receive your inheritance, why did you come all this way to find me? You could have divorced me by mail.”
“I told you. Because my brother was still refusing to release the property. He said he didn’t believe I had ever been married and that he and the family solicitors needed proof.”
“So, you came to take me back to England to show your family you were married so that you could inherit your property.”
“Yes.” Phoebe paused. “What’s wrong?”
“Then why all this? Why not tell it to me straight?” He gestured at the bed. “Why get all tangled up with me when you knew you were going to leave?”
“I couldn’t help myself,” Phoebe said simply. “It just happened.”
“That’s not an answer, Feebs.”
“Then why did you let me? If you haven’t trusted me this entire time, why did you encourage me?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“Fine. I wanted to see you again.” Phoebe took a deep breath. “And, as soon as I saw you, I wanted you. Is that honest enough? And I’m not blaming you. I was the one who got carried away.”
“Carried away?”
She stood up. “Now, who’s asking questions?”
“I’m just trying to understand things here. You came to sort out your legal issues and stayed because you . . . wanted me?”
“Yes.” Her half smile almost broke his heart. “And it’s okay. I know that wasn’t what you signed up for.”
Max tried to think straight. “This is getting way too complicated.”
“You started it.”
“Just . . . hold up a second.” He met her gaze. “I want to get this right.”
“It’s ridiculously simple, Max.” Phoebe walked toward him, and he tensed. “I came here to persuade you to come back to England with me for what you might consider purely mercenary reasons, but I got distracted, because you . . .” She just looked at him. “Are so gorgeous, I couldn’t keep my hands off you.”
He went to speak, and she held up a finger. “Can I finish before I lose my nerve and you tell me to get out? I forgot we had a marriage of convenience and I wanted more—so much more, but that wasn’t fair of me, Max, because that’s not what you agreed to, and I understand that.”
She squared her shoulders. “I’m going to talk to George. He now knows you exist and there shouldn’t be any reason why he can’t agree to follow the dictates of our father’s will.”
She paused to go up on tiptoe and kiss Max’s mouth.
“Thank you for everything.”
“Phoebe, you can’t walk out right now after saying all that.”
She stroked his cheek. “It’s okay, I know you don’t want what I want, and—”
His arm snaked around her hips, pulling her against him and he kissed her with a rough possessiveness that left her gasping. When he eventually raised his head, his breathing was as harsh as hers.
“First thing to get straight is that I don’t mind you wanting more, Feebs. I . . . kind of feel the same.”
“You do?” She gazed into his eyes. “You want me?”
“All the damn time.”
“Oh,” she sighed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“I’m not nice. I want you naked, on your back, and screaming my name when I make love with you every night,” Max said. “You drive me nuts, but somehow I like it.”
Phoebe still hesitated. “Does that mean you’d consider staying married and letting me come back here to live?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Oh, Max.” She hugged him hard. “I think I’d like that very much.” She kissed him again and gently eased out of his arms. “I need to talk to George and I’m sure we can sort everything out.”
Max reluctantly moved out of her way and opened the door. “Don’t let him talk you out of anything, Feebs.”
She blew him a kiss, her eyes shining. “I won’t.”
* * *
She went off in search of George who was sitting in the family room with the newspaper and a mug of tea looking remarkably at home.
“Phoebe.” He looked up. “Have you explained yourself to Max?”
She sat beside him and smiled. “I think so.”
“Then you can accompany me home when I leave tonight.”
“I’m not due to leave for another two days, George. There’s no rush.” She paused. “I intend to come back here after the wedding.”
She and Max still had a lot to talk about, but he cared for her—he’d said he wanted more just like she did.
“From your expression, I assume Max has forgiven you for deceiving him.”
“I didn’t deceive him.” Phoebe met George’s skeptical gaze. “He understands what really happened and didn’t believe your conflated conspiracy theories.”
Her brother’s expression darkened, and Phoebe hastily remembered that she needed to be nice to him.
“But none of that matters now, does it?” she said brightly. “You’ve met Max, you know he exists, and there can be no more delays in giving me my inheritance.”
George looked at her for a long moment. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Thank you.” She reached for his hand. “Now we can enjoy Eugenie’s wedding without any of this hanging over us.”
* * *
After dinner, Max found himself walking beside George down to Noah’s new house. The earl was due to leave for the airport soon but was interested in seeing how Luke was expanding the accommodation on the ranch. Sally and Phoebe had gone ahead to water the indoor plants and make sure everything was okay in the house. Max wasn’t sure how he felt right now. Phoebe had suggested she would come back, and it was such a big deal that his stupid heart couldn’t take it all in.
She wanted him.
Him.
The screwup, the loudmouth, the man she’d asked to marry her in a bar in Reno, risking everything on her first impression of him. He still wasn’t sure he was good enough, but he’d been offered the chance to try and be that man. Something inside him yearned to step up and prove her right and everyone else wrong.
“I asked Phoebe to come back with me tonight,” George said, breaking into Max’s thoughts.
“She’s booked for Saturday, right?” Max asked.
“I can easily alter her ticket.”
“Why?”
George shrugged. “Because I think she needs to be home where she belongs.”
“As to that—”
George stopped in his tracks, his expression sympathetic. “I don’t know what she said to you, Max, but I don’t understand why you insist on believing she’ll return to you.”
“Maybe because she told me she would?”
“The whole reason we’ve been fighting has been over property. Property that has belonged to the estate for generations and that Phoebe wants to own outright and use for her own purposes.”
“Okay.”
“If she didn’t intend to live on that property, why would she have put up such a fight to keep it?”
“Because its rightfully hers?”
“It’s more than that, Max, and you know it.” George let out a breath. “It’s important to her to honor our father’s wishes and the plans they made together. She intends to run a riding stable and three-day event training for disadvantaged and disabled kids at her new place.”
That news didn’t surprise Max. It was just the sort of thing he could see Phoebe doing. It also made sense of her determination to get what she was owed, not for personal gain, but to benefit others.
“Whatever you or I think, Phoebe has a right to make her own decisions,” Max said. “You’ve met me, there isn’t any reason why you can’t let her have what she deserves.”
“There are plenty of ways I can block this legally.”
“Why would you do that to your sister?” Max frowned.
“Because I want her to stay in England.”
“It’s not your call,” Max spoke slowly, but he had a sense that George wasn’t really listening to him.
“I could tie her and her barrister up in court for years. She’d run out of money a long time before I did, and then she’d have nothing, and the property would revert to me anyway.” He paused and looked right at Max. “Or you and I could come to a gentleman’s agreement.”
Max knew he should’ve seen the counter offensive coming but he was still blindsided.
“To do what, exactly?”
“I’ll let her have her property without any further legal action if she stays in England.”
“That’s a big ask.”
“I’m not asking you to get a divorce, Max, and if you chose to come and live in England with Phoebe, I won’t say a word because you’re obviously a decent chap. I just don’t want you encouraging her to come back here straight after the wedding. I want you to give her time to enjoy her win and plan her new future safely at home with me and her family.” George paused. “It’s not that much of an ask, is it?”
Max hated the fact that he couldn’t immediately tell George to go screw himself because logically what he was saying wasn’t unreasonable at all. Max wanted Phoebe to choose to be with him free and clear. It was obvious from what George was saying that she had big plans and dreams on the other side of the Atlantic. The question was—why would she be willing to give it all up for a joker and a loser like him?
“I’ll think about what you’ve said.” Max started walking again, his thoughts in turmoil.
Whatever George implied, Max knew he’d never be good enough for the earl’s family and when Phoebe finally worked that out, she’d be quick to initiate a divorce. He felt stupid, like the whole world was laughing at him for daring to dream he could have a happy ending when that’s not how it went for people like him. Phoebe deserved better and he was the only man who could set her free to find her true happiness.
* * *
“Hey.”
Phoebe looked up from her sketch of the garden to see Max coming toward her with his usual easy smile. He’d spent half his time at dinner staring at her, which had made her feel deliciously warm. She couldn’t wait until George left and she could take Max to bed. She’d been honest, she’d taken hold of her future and asked for what she wanted, and it felt glorious.
“We’ll need to go back soon. It’s getting dark,” Max said as he came to stand alongside her.
“And George has to leave. Do you know he even suggested I come with him?” Phoebe chuckled. “He’s remarkably bossy.”
“As to that—have you thought about going?” Max said in a deliberately casual voice. “You’d have someone to travel with, which is always nice.”
There was something about his tone that made her study his face.
“I planned to go on Saturday.”
“Why wait? The sooner you get there, the quicker you can get into your new place.”
“I am looking forward to seeing the dower house and the vast stable yard attached to it. I have such plans . . .” She paused, aware that he must have been talking to George. “But they can wait.”
“Nah.” Max took her hand. “You should go and celebrate your victory.”
“You’re trying to get rid of me now?” She tried to make a joke of it. “Is this because you think I’ll be back sooner.”
He hesitated. “There’s no rush to come back, Feebs. Take your time.”
She pulled out of his grasp and walked away, her back to him. She’d done it again hadn’t she? Pushed too hard, asked for too much, and scared him away. She stared at the bleak snow-covered mountain caps and took an unsteady breath as anger churned in her stomach along with hurt. She was a bloody fool. He hadn’t said he loved her; he’d said he wanted to keep having sex with her.
“Phoebe . . .”
She slowly turned around. “Fine, Max. I’ll go.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I want—”
“I know what you want—me in your bed screaming.” She found a smile somewhere. “How about this? I’ll pop over occasionally and we can screw each other’s brains out.”
He winced and she raised her chin.
“Isn’t that what you like about me, Max? That I’m in lust with you? That I’d do anything you want in your bed—although, I am grateful for all the experiences you’ve given me.”
“That’s not fair.” He took a step toward her. “You mean much more than that to me.”
“So much that you’re too scared to accept what I’m offering on a bloody plate and would rather send me home with my brother.”
He set his jaw and looked past her.
“Nothing to say to that? Then I guess I was right.” Tears crowded Phoebe’s throat, but anger still won out. “I love you, Max Romero. I’m sorry you’re too much of a coward to say it back.”
She brushed past him, went around the side of the house, and found George loitering on the driveway.
“Ah! Phoebe, I was looking for you. I have to leave soon. Are you sure you won’t change your mind and come with me?”
“What did you say to Max?”
“Nothing that he didn’t already know, Phoebe.” His voice softened. “I’m sorry, love.”
Phoebe glared at him. “Give me ten minutes to gather the essentials and I’ll meet you in the car.”
* * *
Max let out his breath and stayed where he was until he heard footsteps behind him. He half-turned, hoping Phoebe had come back to tell him what a fool he was, and that she’d decided to stay anyway, and found Luke instead.
“Hey.”
Luke wasn’t smiling. “I was in the kitchen with the windows open and I overheard you and Phoebe talking.”
“Great,” Max muttered. “Just fricking great.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Why did you push her away like that?” Luke demanded. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Max didn’t even have the energy to explain. “If that’s what you thought, it’s a shame you didn’t intervene and make everything right.”
“How could I when I don’t understand what’s going on? She loves you; you love her—” Luke paused. “You did tell her that? After everything I went through not doing it right with Bernie, you screwed up?’
“Can you stop talking? You’re giving me a headache,” Max groused as he walked through the side gate onto the unfinished driveway.
“Max, get up to the house, tell that woman you love her, and that you want to spend the rest of your life with her.”
“You don’t get to order me around anymore.”
“I’m still your boss.”
“Then goddam fire me.”
Luke just looked at him. “We’re not doing that again, okay? If there’s something wrong, we can talk it out and fix it.”
“We absolutely, one hundred percent, cannot fricking do that,” Max snapped. “Just because your little fairy tale worked out doesn’t mean mine will.”
“Why not? You love each other.” Luke pointed up the road. “Go and tell her. Make it right.”
Max gave Luke the finger and marched off up the road with no real idea what he intended to do next. If he tried to tell Phoebe that he loved her, she might want to stay, and then her dick of a brother would stop her getting her rightful inheritance. But shouldn’t he tell her that? Give her the choice rather than deciding for himself and making her doubt everything between them? But he didn’t want her to be estranged from her family like he was from his, and he still wanted her to be committed to being with him.
Maybe he needed to try a bit of that honesty Phoebe was so good at.
It was quiet inside the house as Max went through to his bedroom. Ten seconds was long enough for him to realize she’d erased herself from his life. Max sank down on the bed and put his head in his hands. She’d gone and the only person he had to blame was himself.
Sally knocked softly on his door and looked in.
“I’m so sorry, Max. Phoebe said she had to leave with her brother and was packed and gone in ten minutes.”
Max slowly looked up and Sally came toward him. “Oh, my poor boy.”
She sat next to him and drew him into a hug. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t because he’d learned long ago that it never made any difference.