Neither seemed to know what to say. After a moment, Max touched her face. “You taste nice,” he whispered, sounding unlike himself.
She lowered her lashes. “So do you.”
He leaned forward and kissed her again as though testing his own observation. She clung to him. His kiss was urgent, needy, and once again desire sparked between them, scorching Bethanne’s senses. She turned her head away and buried her face in his shoulder, trying to understand what was happening to them. Max ran his fingers through her hair and continued kissing the side of her face.
Anywhere else Bethanne would have been embarrassed. Thankfully, no one here seemed to notice or care.
They danced and kissed and became so involved with each other that it was after two in the morning before she was aware of the time. Resting her forehead against his, Bethanne sighed. “I have to go.”
His hold on her briefly tightened. “Okay.”
“Don’t think that’s what I want,” she said. “I’d like nothing better than to spend the rest of my time in Vegas with you.”
“But you can’t.”
“No, we’re leaving for the Grand Canyon tomorrow morning.”
“It’s spectacular. You’ll love it.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you called.”
“I am, too. Can I call you again?”
She didn’t know how to respond.
“Tell you what,” Max said. “You call me. You should have my cell number in your phone index. If I don’t hear from you…let’s say by August first, after your son’s wedding, then I’ll know you’ve decided to go back to Grant.”
She nodded.
Max escorted her to the hotel and kissed her one last time. He was wrong about one thing, she thought. What happened in Vegas wouldn’t stay here. It would always be with her.
Fourteen
By the time Ruth, Annie and Bethanne left Las Vegas, it was almost noon. They’d slept in until after ten, eaten a late breakfast, packed up the car and were now on their way. This was the new rental and once again they’d opted to do without a navigational device. They had their map and an atlas; that should be enough.
No one seemed to be talking much, and the tension inside the car remained high as Bethanne headed toward Henderson, Nevada, and then over Hoover Dam south on Highway 93. It went without saying that Annie and Ruth were upset with her for staying out so late with Max, but neither commented. Just as well. Her relationship with Max was none of their business, regardless of what they might think. Soon the map directed them toward the cutoff for Grand Canyon National Park.
Finally, Annie broke the ice. “Will you be seeing Max again?” she asked from the backseat. Although the question was thrown out casually, Bethanne could see that both her daughter and Ruth were keenly interested in her answer.
Would she see him again? That depended on what she decided about Grant—a decision that was hers alone. She’d told Max she’d contact him after Andrew’s wedding. The beginning of August, he’d suggested, but that seemed so long to wait. Even after she’d slipped into bed beside Annie, all Bethanne could think about was the kisses she’d shared with Max. No man had affected her the way he did, not since she was in college and first met Grant.
“Mom?” Annie prompted.
“I…I don’t know,” she said. “Will you be seeing Jason again?”
“Probably not,” Annie admitted reluctantly, “but he has my cell number.”
Max had hers, too, but he wouldn’t use it, wouldn’t phone until she’d called him. That was how they’d left it.
“We’re in a different time zone,” Ruth announced, changing the subject as they crossed the state line. “Arizona isn’t on daylight savings.”
Bethanne knew that her mother-in-law had always been uncomfortable with conflict and tried to avoid it whenever possible. Bethanne had been much the same for most of her married life. But that had gradually changed; she’d reinvented herself as a businesswoman, which had required her to negotiate, to compete and to promote her services. A woman who lacked confidence couldn’t do those things.
The tension in the car eased, and the silence became companionable. Bethanne turned on the radio, filling the car with ABBA and the Fifth Dimension. It wasn’t long before Ruth and Bethanne were singing along and Annie’s voice harmonized with theirs.
“That’s just plain good music,” her daughter said, apparently surprised that she’d be enjoying the same songs as her mother and grandmother.
They drove out of range and lost that station after half an hour or so. Bethanne snapped off the radio, and they lapsed back into silence.
“How are the wedding gloves progressing?” Ruth asked after another lengthy period when no one seemed inclined to talk.
“When has Mom had time to knit?” Annie joked. “Frankly, I never imagined I’d see my mother on a Harley.”
Her daughter didn’t know her nearly as well as she thought, but Bethanne didn’t say anything. Annie’s vision of her was a contradictory one—including both the independent businesswoman of today and the complacent wife of years past.
“This is all too weird for me,” Annie was saying. “My mom and Mad Max? It’s just…odd, you know.”
“Odd?”
“Don’t get me wrong, Mom. I realize this is your life and everything, but a guy on a bike? Really? My mother?”
“I don’t find it odd at all,” Bethanne muttered. But it was a moot point, since she likely wouldn’t see Max again, although the prospect saddened her.
Ruth broke into a half smile.
“That reminds me of my family’s opinion of Royce and me.”
“Who’s Royce?” Annie immediately asked.