Page 11 of Somewhere Without You
Max shook his head, and a few strands of raven hair fell across his long lashes.“No wife. No kids, either,”hesaid.“And your infamous husband—where’s he hiding?”
“He’s. . . occupied at the moment,”Ireplied, the words tasting artificial.“Enjoying himself, I suppose.”
“I’ve never been one for these kinds of parties,”Maxsaid, glancing toward the glow of the estate.“But I’ll admit, I am enjoying the view tonight.”
My cheeks flushed as I suddenly realized the precariousness of the situation. I shouldn’t be out here alone with this man—especially one Jackson intended to do business with. But there was something about the ease of it that sent a quiet thrill through me.
“Yes, well,”Isaid, raising the champagne to my lips.“It is a lovely night.”
I focused on the horizon—trying to ignore the sharp awareness prickling across my skin. Max’s attention was obvious, but what surprised me most was how much I didn’t mind it. A small voice in my head reminded me this was wrong, but it was drowned out by the ache of being noticed.
It was a rare thing, to be seen. To be more than Jackson’s wife, more than a well-dressed fixture meant to smile on cue. And besides, Max wasn’t just some stranger. He was part of Jackson’s world. A potential business partner. Wasn’t it wise to get to know the people my husband surrounded himself with?
Max must’ve sensed my hesitation.“I’m sorry,”hesaid, his voice gentler now.“I didn’t mean to come on too strong. Most people at these things are too busy admiring themselves to hold a real conversation. But when I saw you out here, I figured you might be different.”
“You’re not being rude,”Isaidquickly.“I’m just not used to someone being so. . . direct.”
“You mean shameless,”heteased, flashing a grin, his white teeth stark against the shadows of his face.
I laughed, surprising even myself. It had been so long since something genuine slipped past my guard.
“Maybe a little shameless,”Iadmitted, lowering my glass.“But not in a bad way.”
Max leaned against the stone railing, the bottle dangling loosely from his fingers.“I figured if I only had time for one real conversation tonight, I’d rather it be with someone who looks like they don’t want to be here either.”
“That obvious, huh?”
Max shrugged. “Only a little.”
A salt-laced breeze swept over the ridgeline, sending a shiver up my spine.
“Here, take my jacket,”hesaid, already slipping out of his gray sports coat before I could protest. He draped it gently over my bare shoulders.
“Thanks,”Iwhispered, offering a small, uneven smile. The jacket was still warm from his body, and a familiar scent clung to the fabric—a cologne similar to Jackson’s.
I should’ve stepped away, should’ve said something to break the moment. But I didn’t.
Our conversation had been harmless, but I knew better than to believe Jackson would see it that way. Being seen alone with Max, even in passing, was a risk.
“We should probably head back in,”Isaid, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of his coat.
Max gave me a slow, thoughtful smile.“Probably,”heagreed.“But I can’t say I’ve enjoyed anyone’s company this much all night.”
I hesitated.“That’s. . .”I searched for something neutral, something that wouldn’t lead us any further down this road.“Kind of you to say.”I slipped out of the coat and handed it back to him.“It was nice meeting you, Max.”
His smile fell as he took the jacket.“Likewise.”
The heat and hum of the party swallowed me the moment I stepped back inside. Laughter and music crashed over me like a wave as I scanned the room, my eyes darting through the blur of bodies and noise.
Jackson was sprawled comfortably on a velvet sofa, his arm draped around Natasha’s shoulders like it belonged there. She leaned in close, laughing at something he’d said. Across the room, Stanley was deep in conversation with two men in tailored suits, completely unaware—or unwilling to notice, his wife’s proximity to my husband.
Jackson stood abruptly when he saw me.“Emily,”hesaid, feigning concern,“where have you been? Are you alright?”
“Not really,”I confessed, my voice rigid.“I’m not feeling well. If it’s okay with you, I think I’d like to go home.”
His jaw flexed, and I could see it in his eyes—that familiar, distant glaze. Leaving early wasn’t an option. Not without a fight.
“There are plenty of beds upstairs.Why don’t you find one and lie down for a bit?”
