Vivian Arend - Turn It Up

Tasha gave up. She put on her sneakers and headed out the door for a long, hard run. If nothing else, it would force the remaining alcohol out of her system. This coming week, no matter what she decided, she was going to move ahead with the baby making.

The question still remained whether or not Maxwell would be involved.

Three days. Max flicked between computer screens, his edginess filtering out through his fingers. Three restless, incredibly long days—they each felt far longer than the standard twenty-four-hour period—and she still hadn’t made up her mind. Max was caught somewhere between demanding an answer and waiting that one more day in case one wrong move would turn a potential yes into a no.

He’d seen her the day after he’d proposed. Stopped by her apartment first thing in the morning with a fresh herbal tea and a fruit smoothie. Tasha had been dressed but still sleepy eyed and soft looking, and he’d wanted to jump her right there.

She’d taken both his offerings with a nod, then ordered him to get his ass out and wait for her to call him. Her forceful response had made him smile—he’d put her out of kilter, had he? Of course, there were other ways to stay in contact. She’d said nothing about email.

But as the day passed, the urge to ignore her command and simply show up at her office increased, and he had to forcibly ignore it. The idea of sending flowers? He’d love to, but that kind of overture was romantic, and she wasn’t looking for romance, she was looking for a forever friend. If he was going to sell her on this for long enough to be able to subtly influence her, he had to play by her rules right now. No matter how much it sucked.

He couldn’t concentrate on his work and had taken to goofing off on his pet project instead, a new and more interactive website for Tasha’s architecture business. Every time he popped onto her old site, his eyes wanted to bleed, with the bad color choices and static header. Not that he was trying to sweeten the pot or anything, but sending her an email to check the draft site would at least ensure he was put front and center in her mind.

He dragged another icon into place, adjusting the position when the Turner Alert web link went off. Someone, somewhere amongst his vast relative pool, had set up a game night. Thank God, that was just what he needed for distraction. He clicked the link and rejoiced. It was an open call from Lila, which meant he was invited, and the chances of seeing Tasha went from slim to nearly one hundred percent.

He saved his work then grabbed the phone. “Maxy—are you and your roommate going to need a ride to the game?”

His sister hesitated. “I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t.”

Max shut down his computer and headed for his room to make a quick change of clothes. “Aren’t you coming? I’ll let you be on my team. Lila mentioned we’re playing Taboo.”

“I’m coming, but I…I already have a date for tonight.”

Max stopped dead in his tracks. “A date? Really?”

She growled at him. “You’re such a turkey. Yes, a date. I am old enough you know. It’s not like I’m not allowed to spend time with the opposite sex.”

Well, if he had anything to say about it, she would still be off limits. Yeah, pretty damn hypocritical considering he’d given Tasha heck for thinking he was too young a few days ago, but this was his sister. He beat down his protective urges. “Do I know the guy?”

“Junior…”

“What? You know you’re going to get the third degree from everyone else, may as well practice now.”

Her sigh carried over the phone, and he laughed to himself. He could picture her, slightly flustered and blushing red as she tried to come up with the best way to make this guy sound safe and yet interesting at the same time.

“He works at the college.”

Teacher was good. “Does he have tenure?”

“Junior!”

He laughed. “Okay, no more teasing. Tell me straight, and I’ll be a good big brother and shut up.”

“Big brother, ha. By ten minutes.”

“Take it up with Mom, not my fault.”

Max hopped in his car, switched to his hands-free, and headed over to Lila’s, listening as his sister rambled on about the new guy. He didn’t sound too dangerous, although Maxine had dashed those first initial high points when she shared the guy wasn’t a professor, but a clerk in shipping and receiving.

The sight of Tasha’s car in the driveway of Lila’s house made his heart do this crazy double thump. One way or another, she would be reminded that he was waiting for her response. He raced up the stairs and only managed at the last second to be polite enough to knock.

Eager beaver.

Laughter poured out the door as it opened, and he smiled, expecting to see his cousin. Instead he found himself looking into the brown eyes that had been haunting his dreams for the past days, weeks, heck—years, if he was honest.

“Junior.” She clutched the door, her laughing face tightening into a frown, and he felt like a fool. Obviously his proposal had been so far out of line she had no idea how to turn him down. He stuttered for a second, disappointment and disillusionment sweeping through him.

“Tasha. Good to see you.”

They stood there for a minute, staring at each other. Then he noticed her blush, and hope fluttered back to life.

She jerked upright. “Sorry, come on in.” She opened the door and stepped back, and he slipped in past her, brushing as close as he could without making it noticeable to everyone in the room. He stood by her side and took a deep breath, her light perfume filling his head and making it spin.

“How have you been?” Tasha asked quietly as he looked around at the crowd gathering to play. She didn’t run off to hide, which he took as a good sign. Damn, he’d take anything as a good sign right now.

Optimist, that was him. Either that or he was a glutton for punishment.

“Anxious. Fretful. Hopeful?”

“Don’t…”

Max shrugged. “You asked. I was polite and didn’t even mention the physical reactions I’ve been having.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “Can I get you something?”

She sighed and walked beside him. “It’s going to sound pathetic, but nothing sounds good to drink.”

Right. Her self-imposed, chemical-free, all-natural, healthy-eating-and-drinking Operation Baby. After his stomach did a roll in sympathy for her, that spot inside him that made him want to go all protective and nurturing on her kicked into overdrive. “Come on, I’ll give you a hand.”

There were close to twenty people already wandering Lila’s place—family, friends. The same people Max had spent many a night with over the years. He waved and exchanged greetings with them as he ushered Tasha forward. There was a strange expression on her face as he led her to an island chair and seated her.

He clued in—she was checking to see if anyone was watching them.

“They’re used to seeing us together. You don’t need to worry,” he whispered in her ear before turning to the cupboard and helping himself to two glasses. He poured orange juice, topped it up with sparkling water, then returned to her side.

“I wasn’t worried.” She took the glass he offered, while yet another sigh escaped.

He raised a brow and sipped his juice.

“Okay, stop that. I haven’t made a decision, so yes, I am worried. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.” She spoke quietly. Her fingers fumbled with her glass as she greeted another family member moving past them to dig into the fridge.

Max patted her knee lightly, a teasing touch. “Relax.” Her gaze kept darting everywhere as people wandered in and out of the kitchen, grabbing what they needed. “Seriously, no one thinks anything of seeing us together—watch this.”

He turned to the couple leaning on the other side of the island. “Dave, Carole. You guys got your team together for the night?”

Dave grinned. “You offering to join us?”

Max winked. “Why not—my sis isn’t here yet, I might as well give you guys a hand kicking Lila’s butt.” He rose and knocked knuckles with Dave, ignoring Tasha where she now sat alone. About five seconds is all he figured he should have to wait.

Tasha fought to keep from frowning. He’d left her? Joined another team? Her sense of disappointment was as instant as it was shocking. She sat up straighter, trying to figure out what to say.

Carole turned from where she’d just given Max a big hug. “Oh, hey, Natasha. You have a team yet? You want to join us as well?” Carole stopped dead as if realizing something. “If that’s okay with you, Max. Did you have another partner already?”

Tasha gazed across the room at Max’s grinning face. The bastard raised a brow and grinned. “No partner. Tasha can join us. I don’t mind.”

Dave nodded once. “I’ll go nab us a spot, otherwise we’ll be crowded on that damn broken couch again. The springs are enough to kill me.” Carole grabbed their glasses and the two of them bombed out of the room.

Max leaned on the island across from her, his biceps pressing the fabric of his T-shirt. She dragged her gaze higher to meet his eyes. Laughter reflected back.

She glanced around the room, making sure there was no one near enough to overhear them. The kitchen had emptied, everyone else already congregating in the other room. “You’re such a wise-ass, aren’t you? Your point is everyone is used to seeing us together, without thinking of us as being together.”

He stared at her lips and she fought the urge to lick them. “Right now, that’s the truth. I’d love to have them see us a couple.”

Tasha sat up rigid in her seat. “Junior.”