Page 51 of Tempting Max

I look at the brothers, still wisely holding Max back and feel my heart start to slow down.

Until he looks directly at me with the same hate in his eyes. “How fucking dare you? You did this. You let him in here. What did he offer you? A million dollars? Was that enough to ruin us again?”

“Max,” I breathe, confused, shocked. I have no idea what he’s talking about. “I didn’t…”

But he doesn’t listen to me. He breaks free from Liam and Elliot. He doesn’t charge at me or threaten me, but he brings my entire world to a halt by saying. “Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back.”

With that, he turns on his heel and slams the brewhouse door.

My mouth falls open, my heart pounds in my ears. I don’t know what Liam and Elliot are doing, all I can feel is my anger bubbling up to the surface. My fists curl, my spine straightens because if he thinks he can get away with speaking to me like that, he’s got another thing coming.

30

MAX

“Mother fucker,” I scream, flipping my desk over, sending papers, my laptop, my coffee flying all over the place. I kick my chair so hard it ricochets off the wall, leaving a dent in the drywall and it’s still not enough so I bury my fist into the wall next to it and leave a real hole.

I feel like I could tear this entire place down with my bare hands and I might if someone doesn’t stop me. I’ve only seen red a few times in my life, and most of them involved my gaping asshole of an uncle and a woman.

My heart clenches at the thought of Gus working with him and I bury my fist into the wall again. I thought I’d found hope again, love, trust, and then—

The brewhouse door flies open and I whirl around expecting to find Liam scolding me for ruining the drywall, but it’s Gus. Painfully beautiful, hands on her hips, nostrils flared, red as a strawberry, with murder in her eyes.

The sight actually makes me drop my fists. She’s terrifying. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Sit the fuck down, Max.” She orders in a voice I’ve never heard before.

“I told you to get out,” I bite back, but it comes out significantly weaker. All my bluster, all my rage fizzles at the anger inher.

She doesn’t budge. “And I told you to sit the fuck down.”

“I suggest you sit,” I hear Elliot say from out in the bar and Gus slams the door behind her screaming, “back off,” to my brothers in a way that instantly makes me fall in love with her all over again.

I do the smart thing. I sit.

“Start talking and start talking fast because if you don’t make me understand why you just tried to toss me out on the street for serving a man I’ve never met before, then I will leave on my own accord, and you’ll never see me again.”

She looks like an avenging goddess standing in front of me and my blood turns ice cold as I realize she means what she says. And she’s right, I owe her an explanation. I know in my bones that she didn’t and wouldnevercollude with anyone against me. And in that vein, I owe her about a thousand apologies.

“All right.” I motion towards another chair in the room. “It’s going to be a long story.”

Keeping her back stock straight, she marches to one of the chairs and pulls it in front of mine. She sits down with a huff and all I want to do is kiss her adorably angry lips. “Better get started.”

I take a large fortifying breath and stretch my neck from side-to-side. “I’ve never told anyone any of this,” I start.

“Oh, there’s a surprise,” she mutters.

Touché. I clear my throat. “Okay, so my uncle Patrick.”

“The man you nearly killed in front of me,” she points out.

I cringe and talk fast. “Yes. He is my father’s brother, younger by three years and pretty useless as far as business goes. My dad told me that he had to rescue him from getting kicked out of business school in the late seventies and ended up giving him a job at his brand-new brewery.”

“Sutton,” she says, studying my face.

I nod. “Sutton. My father did all the work, had all the know-how, studied with brewmasters everywhere they would let him study. He worked tirelessly, researched, found out what his customers liked and wanted and that was his legacy. A brewing company that everyone respected. High quality beer produced by real people.”

I run my hand over my face as memories wash through me. “He taught me everything I know. From about the age of five, I was checking temperatures on the mash tun, watching how they mixed ingredients, and how anything that wasn’t up to standard was thrown out. I loved it. I wanted to be there all the time. And I was. So was Liam. I think we put more time in at Sutton as children than fucking Pat ever did.”

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