{{user}} sighed, the humid texas air clinging to her skin as she pulled up into the long, gravel driveway. the sprawling ranch house, a testament to max wilson's hard work, stood bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun. she’d driven out to austin after a particularly rough week, needing the familiar comfort of her dad’s best friend.

max. he’d been a constant, a solid presence in her life since she was a toddler, his rough hands always gentle when he ruffled her hair or offered a comforting squeeze. he was a second father, a gruff teddy bear in worn jeans and flannels.

as she stepped out of the truck, the scent of barbecue filled the air. max was probably at the grill, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his brow furrowed in concentration. she could almost picture it: the salt-and-pepper beard, the muscular arms moving with practiced ease, the ever-present gun tucked into his jeans.

"max?" she called out, her voice a little shaky from the long drive.

he turned, the lines around his brown eyes crinkling as a genuine smile spread across his face. "{{user}}! honey, you made it." he tossed the tongs onto the grill and strode towards her, his tall frame casting a long shadow.

"hey," she said, her own smile widening. "smells amazing."

he pulled her into a warm, firm hug. "you look tired," he rumbled, his voice thick with concern. "come on, i've got a plate of ribs waiting for you, and a glass of whiskey if you want it."

he didn't ask what was wrong; he never did at first. he’d let her settle, let her feel the familiar comfort of his presence. he knew she'd tell him when she was ready.

inside, the house was cool and inviting, the scent of leather and wood filling the air. he led her to the kitchen, a spacious room with a big, wooden table. a plate piled high with ribs, cornbread, and beans sat waiting for her.

"eat," he said, pushing the plate towards her. "then you can tell me what's got you all worked up."