To the Max Read Free

in college and had kept in contact ever since. A bit over six months ago, Christy had taken a sabbatical from her job as a software engineer and moved temporarily from LA to Alden to get away from her ex-fiancé. Now she was engaged to Cole Bowen and ran Alden’s library. Funny how things changed.
    They swung in comfortable silence for a while longer.
    “So, I have to ask,” he said after a long pause. “How often do you end up in hiding during your dates?”
    She snorted. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I’d be hiding in the bathroom right now if I could be sure that the Women Only sign would stop that self-absorbed pompous ass from entering.”
    Annie was an active dater—an optimist. Yeah, the world was full of frogs, but there were princes out there. She just had to persevere until she found hers; it was a matter of probabilities, pure and simple. Easier said than done. A romantic at heart, she’d always kept faith that everyone got a happily ever after, but with the luck she’d had lately and all the frogs she’d had to deal with, she’d begun to suspect “everyone” just didn’t include her.
    Max barked out a laugh. “Self-absorbed pompous ass?”
    She nodded. “Aka Steven.”
    “You’re dating the wrong guys.”
    Didn’t she know it.
    Not that Max would understand her predicament. The guy went through women like most men went through potato chips, a handful at a time. He charmed girls out of their panties as if it were an Olympic sport. Nevertheless, Annie hadn’t heard a single complaint from the female population. Far from it.
    “What about the stud gala? Did you end up in hiding there too?”
    She stilled. “How did you know about the gala?”
    “You kidding me? I heard Cole grumbling about you guys buying the gala invitation for Christy. Then I had to listen Tate complain about not getting one. And then James growling and threatening Elle with bodily harm if she dared to buy one for Tate.”
    She cleared her throat. “That wasn’t a date. But, no, I didn’t end up in hiding then.”
    No, sir, not at all.
    “Guys, what are you doing there?” a woman asked.
    Annie turned her head to see Christy and Cole approaching.
    “His ass was hurting and he needed to lie down,” Annie blurted, tensing. Under somebody else’s scrutiny, lying there with Max felt suddenly awkward.
    Christy looked confused. “What?”
    “Never mind,” she mumbled, clumsily hauling herself up and out of the hammock. Max followed her much more gracefully, holding her when her wobbly legs and the rocking made falling on her face a very distinct possibility.
    “How’s it going?” Max asked his brother. “Is the party winding down already?”
    Cole looked toward the reception and grimaced. “Nope,” he muttered. Then he turned to Christy. “We’re eloping.”
    She smiled widely. “Sure, let’s elope to Vegas.”
    Cole’s expression tightened. “I’m not getting hitched by Elvis,” he warned, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and bringing her front to his side.
    “Who said anything about Elvis? I was thinking more along the lines of Captain Kirk.”
    “So not happening.”
    Christy, bless her heart, ignored him and smiled even wider. “Or Spock. We could book the Star Trek package, marry with a Vulcan and a Klingon as witnesses. And wire the chapel so that our friends could follow the wedding through the Internet. Wouldn’t that be a blast?”
    He kissed her hard, then whispered against her lips, “I love you, baby, but no fucking way.” If his expression was anything to go by, it was a good thing Cole loved Christy to pieces, because he sure as hell wasn’t a man to be led by his dick, much less into a Star Trek wedding.
    “Elope all you want, but I’m organizing your bachelor party. Imagine all I could do with Vegas as the backdrop,” Max said, to which Cole grimaced even more strongly.
    “Here you are,” Annie heard someone say.
    Shit. Steven, aka Pompous Ass. Her stomach roiled