Page 42 of Charlie Takes a Chance

“Well, now Iamworried. You’re out there by yourself,” Max grumbles.

“Meh, I’ll be fine. I’ll let them in, and then I’ll go run some errands in town and get a Christmas tree.” I can at least set up a tree and decorate the balcony. Because when the plumbers are done I’ll be able to finish up the majority of the work. It ought to be ready for Nash’s grandpa within two weeks.

The line is silent for a little bit, with only the hum of an engine. Finally, Max speaks up, “If you’re uncomfortable with the plumbers, call me.”

He really is worried about me. I was joking around but he’s serious. And it’s so very different than Bryce. “You would come back?”

“Yes, Charlie,” he sighs like I’m asking him a stupid question. “I would come back. You’re a pain in the ass, but I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I don’t know if anyone has ever said such nice words to me,” I say jokingly, but it’s true. Somehow, Max saying he’s worried about me is the nicest thing a man has said to me. Bryce never worried about me. My past boyfriends before him never gave my safety a thought. Most guys assumed that since I work in a male-dominated field, I don’t have to deal with the same things other women do. That couldn’t be further from the truth. So, for Max to be worried about me while I’m out at the ranch by myself with strange men? Yeah, it’s sweet and real and it’s making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“I already talked to Jefferson, and he said he’d be glad to take you out and find a tree today. If he doesn’t see you by ten, he’s going to call me.” He sounds so stern.

“Okay, you little worrier,” I say it, but I don’t mean it. Iwanthim to worry about me. I wasn’t kidding when I said I like a little bit of fussing. It doesn’t happen often, so it feels nice when someone cares enough to be worried.

“Don’t make me turn this truck around,” he growls.

My heart skips a beat in my chest as I realize I want to poke the bear.Why do I love antagonizing him so much?“Hmm, we’ll see.”

“You better?—”

I interrupt his next threat by saying, “Hold on, someone’s calling.” I glance at the name on the screen. “Bryce.”

“Who’s Bryce? The plumber?”

“My ex-boyfriend.” I groan as I try to decide whether I should answer it. If I answer it, maybe he’ll go away. Maybe he just lost something like an article of clothing or his sense of decency and thinks I can help him find it.

“Don’t answer that call.” Max sounds so very sure.

“Maybe he’ll stop showing up at the apartment if I answer the call.”

“If you answer that call, he’ll think he still stands a chance. I don’t think he deserves one after he dumped you,” Max says firmly.

“I never said that he dumped me…I said that he broke up with me.”

“The way you were eager to stay out here at the ranch? Means you didn’t want to go home.”

“You’re obnoxiously intuitive. Oh, he stopped calling. I guess that answers that.”

“Good. Don’t?—”

“Oh, there he is; he’s calling again. I’m going to just find out what he wants and then hang up. It’ll be as simple as that.”

“Charlie. You deserve better than him.”

“You don’t even know him!” But I’m beginning to believe Max because Max hates my guts and has still given me more consideration and appreciation than Bryce did when we were dating.

“You know that saying ‘if someone shows you who they really are, believe them?”

“Sound advice. Okay, I’m answering his call.” I hang up on Max and then answer Bryce’s call.

“Hello?”

“Charlie,” Bryce’s voice is warm and smooth. It used to be a voice that I found so attractive. Like a smooth caramel—extra sweet. Now? Now I know it’s him putting on his best behavior.

“You stopped by the apartment today? Why?”

“Piper must have texted you,” he says slowly.

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