Loss united them. Will it also tear them apart?
When her staff abandon her before opening her new restaurant, Sophie, an aspiring chef who refuses to move past the death of her fiancée must let the charming military man Max into not just her bed but...
Max's heart shattered as he slipped off the stool and wrapped Sophie in a tight hug. "It's not fair, I know." Her shoulders shook, and he pulled her closer.
A tiny flame of anger burned in his chest at the faceless woman who had caused Sophie such pain. Yet his brain reminded him life wasn't fair. For two days he'd sat by Bug's bedside, holding her hand, praying he'd see her sparkling blue eyes again, hear a sarcastic remark slip from her soft pink lips.
His prayers went unanswered.
Her hospital room had exploded in a fury of action reminiscent of a combat zone as red alarms howled, signalling Bug's heart giving up. A muscular hand had pushed him into the hall, Finn's fingers clamped on his shoulder as they watch the battle for her life through the glass door. Nurses in pale green scrubs scrambling, pulling wires and cords. Then the madness halted, and everyone stilled. Naively, he'd thought Bug was fine, her chestnut hair spilled over the hospital bed. Why else would they stop? When they filed out of the room, refusing to meet his eye, he knew before the nurse delivered the fateful words. Colour had drained out of his world until everything went dark.
"I'm so sorry." Sophie attempted to pull away, but Max couldn't let go of her quite yet. He'd been powerless when they took Bug away, but Sophie was right here. Her shoulders rising and falling with each ragged breath. He ran his palm down her back and she sank into him again. "I'm not usually like this."
"You don't have to pretend around me." Her nails scratched through the thin material covering his heart, like she could dig out the pain that resided there. "I feel it too."
The oven ticked, and Max continued to hold Sophie. Their friends chatted in the next room and he still held her. He wasn't sure who synced to who, but eventually their chests found the same calm rhythm. Her muffled cries slowed, and he knew he had no choice but to uncurl his arms and release her.
She wiped at her face with the back of her hand. "I think I got mascara on your tie."
"This?" Max yanked the patterned strip of material. "Hate wearing it anyhow." The tiny smile that broke out on her face was like a ray of sunshine and he figured he'd walk across hot coals to be a source of distraction to her. Anything to stop those tears. "You did me a favour, sunshine."
Her fingers brushed against his neck as she undid the top button of his shirt. The tiny touch scattered goosebumps across his skin. "You look better without it." Her hand patted his chest. "More relaxed."
"My dad would have my head if he knew I was about to sit down for Thanksgiving dinner without a tie."
Sophie stood up and pressed at the creases on her dress. "Good thing your father isn't here then."
"You don't know the half of it." Her face hid underneath her charcoal hair as she bent to smooth out her skirt, and he had to swallow the urge to reach out and brush the locks behind her ear.
With a final swipe, she abandoned her attempts and, eyes rimmed in red, yet alert and curious, met his. "Care to tell me?"
"Not really." Her face fell, and he wanted to kick himself. "No. It's really a boring story. Dad's not a fan of my choices."
"You mean to join the Navy?"
"That was definitely a big one."
"Why did you sign up then?" She watched him intently, like the answer to her question had meaning, was important.
The side of his neck itched again. He needed to invest in a new moisturiser. "Short version. I screwed up in my last year of high school and lost my scholarship to play baseball for state." He wrapped his fingers around his beer bottle on the counter and his wrist twinged as if reminding him of his stupidity. "Without baseball I didn't know what to do with my life. My guidance councillor suggested trying the military. I needed to do something, be somewhere far away from where I grew up. It made sense."
Her eyes narrowed. "That sucks."
The cool alcohol stuck in his throat, and he coughed to clear his airway. "Joining the military was good. I mean, I met Finn." And Bug.
Sophie shook her head. "No. I mean, about losing your scholarship."
"Yeah. I guess."
"You must have been good at..." She seemed to struggle with the right words.
"Second base. I played second base."
"Sorry. I don't know much about sports. We didn't have much free time growing up. The restaurant was always too busy." Her fingers brushed against her lips. "Not that baseball is frivolous. I mean, it must be hard work and takes dedication." Max bit the inside of his cheek to stop from chuckling. Sophie, slightly flustered, was adorable. "And the professional people who find baseballers—"
"Scouts?"
"Yes. Them. They singled you out? Thought you would have made a career of it?"
He shrugged. "They saw some potential. The show, or major leagues, is different from high school play. I might have bottomed out once I got there."
Her nose screwed up. "But you could have succeeded?"
"Anything is possible."
"More than possible. These scouts picked you over other people." Max opened his mouth to protest, tell her about Devon Graizer also being picked from his team, but he didn't get a chance. "If they were any good at their job, they'd know who was most likely to... excel at second base. Don't deny you have talent."
The flicker of fire was back in his chest, but not in anger this time. This woman, standing here defending him, stirred a rare emotion one not felt since Finn took him under his wing on the first day of training. A sense of belonging.
"He's good at that, too." Max jumped at Finn's interruption. "Disbelieve in himself."
"Well, Max shouldn't" Sophie scooted around the counter in a rush like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Towel in hand, she opened the door to the oven and the aroma of roasted meat filled the kitchen.
Finn groaned. "Sophie, that smells divine. Tell me it's almost done."
"Not even close. If you're starving, I'll start the butternut squash and feta tartlets."
"Bet Max here hasn't had anything to eat yet today?" Finn emerged from the fridge, beer in hand. He twisted off the top and tossed the cap onto the counter. "The base clears out this time of year."
Sophie turned to him. "Is that true? Do you want me to make you something?"
Heat spread across the back of Max's neck. "No. I can wait."
For food and another chance with Sophie.
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Hey all, DL here. Sorry for the short chapter. Haven't been feeling great this week but wanted to get something up for you to read. Let's call it an appetizer for the meal to come.
