J. Black - The Survivors Club

But there was the animal sanctuary. She had to follow that path and see where it led. The idea of the place lodged in the back of her mind, part savior, part mystery.

She’d go looking for the animal sanctuary later this afternoon. And if she found anything, if there was anything to find—she’d follow it to the end of the trail.

But first, she made her phone call, and settled down to wait.

A motorcycle pulled in to the parking lot. Tess looked out the window. A man swung off and removed his helmet.

The man’s hair was short and looked like it had been cut by one of those places you just walk in to, like Supercuts—the cut was simple and kind of dorky. He wore faded jeans that somehow made him look chunky (how did he do that?) and the jeans were boot-cut over scuffed desert boots. His knit polo shirt, untucked, was horizontally striped. He hooked the helmet on the motorcycle and headed her way, elbows slightly out from his body, as if he was used to lifting grain sacks all day—just kind of stumped along. She noted a clunky turquoise-loaded sandcast Navajo bracelet and a watch that looked cheap even from here. His wallet made a huge square in his back pocket, and a cheap duffel bag, old and used, was slung over his shoulder. He could have been a construction worker on his day off.

She opened the door. Max Conroy leaned against the doorjamb and gave her a cute blue-collar grin and said, “Hello, sweetness.”

The first time it was two people tearing off each other’s clothes, urgent—no, more than that, lunatic crazy, two lovers caught up in some fevered hallucination, desperate to rid themselves of the boundaries between them.

As if they could not be apart for one more moment. Nothing mattered but the need to join together, to try as people had for centuries to somehow become one.

The sweetness was painful. A starburst that took a long way to burn down.

They lay tangled, legs wound together, hips touching, and Tess felt the beating of his heart.

At that moment, she wanted so much to never leave. Never be apart. Never ever pull away.

Maybe on an island somewhere. Alone together. Castaways.

The yearning was so deep at that moment that she discounted everything else about her life. Who she was, what she was, where she was going.

His chin rubbed against her face.

Five o’clock shadow.

His voice against her neck. “I miss you.”

They lay there, sated. Until they weren’t.

Slowly, the urge came back.

She tilted her head up toward him and looked into his eyes. They were the color of the ocean at sunrise—teal green.

She felt his strength, in the broad wings of his chest, in the crook of his neck.

Moving. Tingling warmth. She melted like an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day.

Love for him seemed to grow under her solar plexus and spread out all over.

It was great.

Tess’s mind drifted. Max was asleep. She looked at him, feeling the smile inside. Max was good at disguise. He could melt into any crowd.

They had stolen this moment.

He was in the middle of shooting the TV series. He was off for the week, but shooting of the next episode would start back again in Tustin on Saturday. It had worked out perfectly—this tiny window of opportunity.

She tried to tell herself that the tiny window was enough.

CHAPTER 28

They were getting ready to go out for dinner—there was a steak house that looked pretty good—when Max’s phone sounded. His ringtone was “Gangnam Style,” no lyrics.

He put the phone to his ear and turned away.

Tess had a bad feeling.

Max sat down on the bed, bending forward, listening. He said, “I canceled that.”

Tess watched him. Out of the blue she had the feeling he would be leaving soon. Which she could understand—he was busy; he was both the co-producer and star of the show—but she’d hoped they could spend some more time together.

She’d certainly made her own life more complicated by meeting him here.

“I thought we’d worked this out.” Max looked at her. His look said everything. “I can be there in,” he checked his watch. “Forty minutes, if the traffic isn’t too bad. Yes, I know how they are. All right, yeah, okay. I’ll see you then.” He looked at Tess. “Shit.”

“You have to go.”

“It’s unavoidable. So much going on with this production, and something…” He looked in her eyes. “Fell through the cracks. I have to do an appearance. I don’t know if I can make it back. Maybe late tonight.”

“A late dinner?”

God, she hated the way she said that.

“It’s too far, I’d never make it back here—unless you want to eat at eleven o’clock at night.”

Tess realized that he was used to eating at eleven o’clock at night.

She also realized that she didn’t really know what his lifestyle entailed. That she didn’t know much about his life in California as she should.

“I can wait that long,” she said. Inwardly wincing as she said it.

She’d compromised herself by meeting him when she should be on the clock, and this was the result.

He ran a hand through his badly styled hair.

“There’s so much crap going on. I don’t even know if we’re gonna get another season. There’s just so much that’s undecided—the nature of the game. You’re all in until the next roadblock. It isn’t fair to you.” He came up behind her and held her in his arms. “I shouldn’t have wasted your time.”

“It’s not a waste of time.” But even when she said it, she thought of the last time she’d come out. It had been the same way. It was his job. He was busy, she was busy. She had her own life and he had his.

But it seemed that she was always the one to make accommodations.

The joy she’d felt—the rightness of the day—evaporated.

“I have to make this appearance tonight. I thought I’d gotten out of it, but they’re holding me to it, and I don’t think they’re all that thrilled with how things are going.” He broke away from her, sat down on the bed, and rubbed his eyes.

Stressed. Maybe he’d dressed to look chunky, but Tess noticed that he had gained a little weight.

This in itself could be disastrous for a leading man.

The thought crept in, catching her unawares. Maybe he was drinking and using again…but the one thing the madman who ran the Desert Oasis Healing Center had done was break Max’s habit in two.

There was no evidence at all that this was the case, and she sensed that he was all right, at least in that regard. But even that momentary distrust…what was that all about?

He looked up at her as if he’d read her mind, and grinned. The patented trademark Max Conroy grin. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you have something you can do.”

“It’s okay, really.”

Liar.

Just when had she lost her honesty?

He called her late at night. Apologized again.

“It’s okay,” Tess said. Not feeling it was okay and hating herself for saying it. Max was not to blame. She knew that. “You’re busy. I’m busy. Which reminds me, I’m going to try and wrap this thing up quickly and get an earlier flight.”

Wondering why she said it. Did she think it would hurt him?

“That’s probably good. I won’t be able to shake loose tomorrow.”