was clear.
“Where’s our guest this evening? It’s not like him to miss a meal.”
“I believe he went to Baton Rouge to visit with his brother’s family for a day or two, the ones who lost their parents.”
“Good for him,” she murmured mostly to herself. Cale needed to come to terms with his guilt, and she needed the house to herself and Max for her own purposes.
Taking advantage of his generous mood, she tendered the Babineau issue. Max listened, expression growing wary. Finally, he voiced his misgivings with a blunt, “Why are we hosting this bit of familial drama when it’s none of our concern?”
She pounced on that. “Of course, it’s our concern. You said it, family. Tina is yours, Alain mine.”
“And family should keep their noses out of each other’s business.”
“We’re not interfering.”
He cut down her argument with a terse, “You’re offering our home for an episode of Jerry Springer. How is that not a bad idea?”
“It’s neutral ground for adult discussion. We stay out of the way.” She scowled at him. “And when did you start watching reality show reruns?”
Max colored slightly and turned his attention to the broasted potatoes. “Jimmy liked daytime TV on occasion.”
That earned a hearty laugh. “I can see that old bastard cozied up to the television with his bedroom slippers and Wall Street Journal, shouting at Judge Judy.”
He offered a faint chuckle before asking with the directness of gunpoint, “And you think this expansion of their family is a good idea considering the timing?”
Cee Cee went cold all over. “Don’t you?” Was he having second thoughts about their own?
“I don’t believe it’s up to me to have an opinion one way or another.” A heavy groan. “But if you’re set on us providing the venue, I’ll make sure all sharp objects are out of reach.”
Cee Cee drew a combative breath before seeing a quirk tug at the corner of her husband’s mouth. He was teasing her, and she was not amused.
“So,” she concluded, “you think I’m foolish for caring about their future happiness.”
“No. I think you’re wonderful, but their happiness is up to them, not us. However, if you’d like to have friends and family over tomorrow evening for a meal and conversation that happens to stray into territory that is none of our business, you will allow me the privilege of removing us from that arena. Agreed?”
Unable to argue his logic and secretly thrilled to bail on potential drama, she nodded. “Agreed.”
“It pleases me that you care so much for them.”
His quiet words sank soul deep, making her reply equally transparent. “Who we love is the measure of who we are. Dev Dovion told me that. I didn’t understand then. I do now. We feel responsible for the things in our past and for the direction of our future. That’s who we are. I don’t want that to change.”
With a deep breath and all the enthusiasm of wading into a melee of drunks on a Friday night, she jumped into the real issue on the very elegantly set table. “I don’t want to change who you are, Max, and I hope what I am is still what you want for the long haul.” Before he could speak, she hurried on. “I’ve never cared what anyone else thought of me or wanted from me. Not until you. If you need me to be something else, someone else, I can try if it’ll put your mind at ease and let you sleep easier. I can’t bear for you to be miserable.”
The first glimmer of dampness in her eyes brought him around the big table to crouch at her side so they faced one another directly. His stripped-bare honesty clutched her soul.
“Charlotte, who you are is who I love. I’d never demand that you change.” His voice broke, her heart with it. “All I ask is don’t be the first through the door in every situation. That’s my weakness, my fear, not yours. Is it too much to ask?”
“No.” She blew out a breath and expressed what had weighed upon her mind since the Terriots had taken a knee at their front porch, bringing the fight to her and Max’s yard. “They look to you. They all do. And I know you, Max. You won’t say no. They’ll make you their figurehead. Just promise you won’t become their martyr.”
“I can’t turn them away, Charlotte.”
“I know. Just don’t be first through the door.”
CHAPTER THREE
Max Savoie was no stranger on the docks. As Jimmy Legere’s enforcer, he’d often