Falling for Max (17 page)

He thrust forward, filling her, and they moaned in unison. She ran her hands down his back to his hips, urging him to move faster. This time he listened. Her breath quickened and she met each thrust with one of her own as he drove deeper and harder.

He groaned what sounded like her name and hooked his hands under her knees. Yanking her body upwards and toward him, he drove into her and she closed her hands over his forearms.

“Yes,” she said, over and over, as the orgasm wracked her body.

His body shook as he pumped into her, until all that was left were the aftershocks. He collapsed on top of her and she wrapped her arms around him, panting in quick breaths that made the hair over his ear twitch.

After a moment, he reached between them to hold the condom as he slid free of her body, and she ran her hands over his back. She was perfectly content to lie under the weight of him.

Several minutes later, she realized that while she was slowly melting into a puddle of sated, boneless exhaustion, Max’s body was tensing a little.

She chuckled against his shoulder. The man overthought everything. “There’s a box of tissues on the nightstand and a wastebasket under it.”

The bed creaked as he disposed of the condom, and then his warm body pressed against hers again. It took some effort, but he untwisted the sheets until he’d freed enough to cover them and pulled the quilt up to their shoulders.

She snuggled against him, loving the feel of his tall body cradling hers and the weight of his arm over her. When he kissed her hair, she smiled and closed her eyes.

Chapter Seventeen

Max woke before Tori, the sun peeking through her curtains hitting his side of the bed first. He breathed in deeply, contentment coursing through his body, and then rolled onto his side. Very gently, hoping not to wake her, he shifted closer and put his arm over her.

She stirred slightly, but then nestled against him and quieted again. Max smiled and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t fall asleep again, but he wanted to savor this moment for as long as it lasted.

Which he already knew would be until she woke up. She’d made that pretty clear last night. And he’d made the decision to accept what she was willing to give him...for now.

He gently untangled himself from the sheets and slid out of bed. If she needed space to come to terms with what was happening between them, waking up in his arms might freak her out. This way, she could set the tone of the morning and he would follow suit. It was a plan that usually worked for him out in the world.

After using her bathroom and pulling on his clothes from the night before—minus the thermals, which he dropped on the floor by her front door—he hit the power button on her brewer. The smell of coffee would probably wake her up, plus he really needed the caffeine boost.

He was putting milk and sugar in his coffee when he heard the bathroom door close. While stirring it, he wondered what he should do with it. He could put both mugs on the coffee table, implying they’d sit together on the couch. If he had to guess, he’d say her habit was to sit at her desk and fire up her computer while drinking her morning coffee, but he wasn’t sure. Finally, he left hers on the counter and took his to the window, where he looked out over Whitford.

When the door opened, he turned. She’d put on a pair of sweatpants and a long sweatshirt, and brushed her hair into a ponytail. It definitely wasn’t a
hey, let’s have morning sex
look.

“I made you a coffee,” he said.

“Thanks.”

He waited to see if she’d detour to the window and give him a good-morning kiss. Maybe he should have stayed near the counter, where he’d be right there in reach. It might have been his imagination, but he thought she hesitated for a second before heading straight to the mug.

“I wonder how many people ended up crashing at the lodge last night,” she said after she’d had a few sips of her coffee. She didn’t move to the couch or her desk. Instead she leaned against the counter, cradling her cup in her hands.

“More than a few, I’d say. Between beer and staying too late, there were probably some who opted to stay.”

“It was fun. Everybody had a good time and I’m sure they raised a lot of money for the ATV club.”

He nodded, dread forming a hard, heavy lump in his stomach. Tori didn’t sound like herself. She sounded...polite. Not that she was ever rude, but she sounded like she was talking to a stranger.

Sipping his coffee, he tried desperately to think of a way to make things better—to make her look at him the way she had last night—but she seemed so far away. Not just physically, but emotionally.

“Is there a football game on today?” she asked after a few minutes of heavy silence.

“Yeah. Big game. It’s the four o’clock game, too, which is good. Leaves more time open during the day.” He wondered if she had plans for today, but couldn’t bring himself to ask without it sounding as if he was presuming they’d spend the day together.

“I have so much work to catch up on it’s not even funny,” she said, which answered the question he hadn’t had the nerve to ask. “Nobody ever brings me Swedish meatballs, though.”

He laughed, then drank the remainder of the coffee in his cup. “I don’t have Swedish meatballs, but I’d be happy to buy you breakfast. Unless you’d rather get right to work.”

Her gaze fixed on his face for the first time, as if she was trying to figure him out. “I guess I should get right to work.”

It was a mistake, he realized too late, to give her the easy out. He should have stopped talking after offering to buy her breakfast. “I’ll get out of your way, then.”

He had to go by her to set his mug in the sink, then he paused. “So how does this work? Do I get to kiss you goodbye or not?”

Her smile didn’t have its usual brilliance, and she didn’t set her coffee down. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. It wasn’t enough and it left him even more unsettled than before.

“Enjoy the game,” she said.

“Thanks. I’ll...see you soon.”

He picked up his thermals on his way out the door, wishing he knew what he could have done differently. Or maybe this
was
how it was done. He’d never been in a situation like this before.

Once he was on the sidewalk, he realized he should have told her how much he’d enjoyed spending the night with her. Or something. Anything more personal than “I made you a coffee.” But it was too late now. The door had closed behind him and he wasn’t going to text her and ask her to let him back in.

Turning the corner toward where his car was parked, he cursed himself for a fool. He should have stayed in her bed and held on to her until she made him let her go.

* * *

Four scoops of ice cream—two chocolate, one coffee, one French vanilla—three pumps of chocolate syrup, a mountain of whipped cream, a ridiculous amount of jimmies, six cherries and one spoon.

Tori picked up the spoon and prepared to do battle with her emotions. They may have snuck up on her—all strong and messy and inevitably painful—but she was going to vanquish them or make herself sick as a dog trying.

“My cousins’ kids would call that an ice cream sundae of doom.”

She looked up at Liz, who’d said nothing while Tori had gone around the counter and made her own dessert. One of the perks of being an employee, even when it wasn’t her shift. “I have feelings. I intend to kill them with ice cream.”

“Would these feelings have anything to do with the tall, blond guy with the impressive...television?”

“Nobody in this town can keep a secret.”

“Oh, were you and Max supposed to be a secret? I might not be the best person to offer this advice, since my attempt to keep my relationship with Drew a secret from my family lasted like a hot minute and ended up with my brother punching him in the face, but the next time you’re at a party with most of the population of Whitford, you guys might want to chill on the smoldering looks, the touching and the leaving together.”

“There was no smoldering.” Tori shoved a huge spoonful of ice cream, chocolate and whipped cream into her mouth, glaring at her coworker over the spoon.

“You looked like a frumpy bag lady with coal smudged on your face and still, when Max looked at you, I wanted to cover Sarah’s eyes.”

“I wasn’t a bag lady. I was Eliza Doolittle. You people have no culture.”

“Every time I looked, he had his arm around you.”

“I was cold. Some idiots decided to have an outdoor party the first night in November and he was trying to keep me alive. As friends do.”

Liz laughed at her and reached under the counter for a stack of napkins, which she set next to Tori. “It’s too bad we don’t have any of those disposable bibs the rib places give out. And zip that hoodie up the rest of the way or you’re going to have jimmies between your boobs.”

Scowling, Tori yanked the zipper up enough to protect her cleavage from falling chocolate sprinkles and shoveled another bite into her mouth. So maybe she should have kept Max at arm’s reach. There
was
a lot of touching at the party. They’d probably looked like a couple, just without the matching costumes. If she was honest with herself, they’d
felt
like a couple, and she’d liked it.

And that was the four-scoop problem. It was one thing to like sex. It was another to like couple-type touches—walking around with his hand at the small of her back or his arm around her. That was
affection
and affection grew into other things. Things that would eventually hurt both of them.

She was halfway through the so-called sundae of doom when Gavin walked out of the kitchen, drying his hands on the full apron he wore.

He looked at her and winced. “This isn’t a good look for you.”

Tori pointed the business end of the spoon at him. “Do I look like a woman who wants to discuss looks right now?”

“You have whipped cream on your nose. And your chin.” He paused. “And your sweatshirt.”

She grabbed a couple of the napkins and swiped at her face. The hoodie she didn’t bother with. The deeper she got into the dish, the more melted the ice cream was and the messier she got.

“You want to talk about it?”

Tori shook her head. What, exactly, would she say?
Well, there’s this awesome guy I’m into and I guess he’s into me and we had sex and it was incredible and now I’m drowning myself in ice cream because...

Just because. The disappointment she’d felt when she didn’t wake up cuddled against Max was a problem, as was her annoyance that he’d played the morning-after game so cool. He’d been dressed and ready to walk out the door by the time she woke. Stabbing at a cherry, she swore under her breath. She’d made the rules and now she was moping because he’d played by them.

“I don’t want to talk about it. But I want you to sit down and tell me how the tryout went,” she told him. “You didn’t even text me to tell me you were back.”

“I was going to call you on my break, but Liz said you were out here demolishing our ice cream stock.” He paused, and then a slow grin lit up his face. “They offered me the job.”

Her happiness for him chased away her bad mood. “Gav! That’s wonderful! Congratulations!”

“It’s a huge step. A new job. A new town. It’s three and a half hours away, Tori.”

She reached across the counter and grabbed his hand. “You’re ready for this, Gav. I know you are. This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”

“Your hand is really sticky.” He pulled his free and wiped it on his apron. “I already told Mom and Dad. And Paige. I have two weeks to help her figure something out.”

They talked for a few more minutes, mostly about how they’d have to get together and plan his big move. Once he’d succumbed to the ice-cream-coated hug she insisted on giving him and he’d gone back to work, she walked around the counter to get rid of her half-empty dish before the melting caused a dairy tidal wave down the counter.

After washing the counter and her hands, she waved goodbye to Liz and Gavin and walked outside. Whitford was a quiet place on Sundays and she had no idea what she was going to do with the rest of her day.

The library was closed and Matt rarely worked on Sundays, so she didn’t want to bother Hailey. Max, even if she was ready to face him again, would have a houseful of people. She ran through a mental list of her other friends, but Sundays were for couples.

With a sigh, she walked back to her apartment, slowly, since her stomach wasn’t sure about ice cream sundaes of doom for brunch. As soon as she closed her door, her gaze fell on the bed and her mind filled with memories of last night.

She needed to work. But first she yanked the quilt off the bed and tossed it onto the couch. Then she stripped the sheets and pillowcases, shoving them into the laundry hamper in the bathroom. Taking another set off the shelf, she remade her bed with crisp white sheets that wouldn’t smell like Max. She smoothed the quilt over the top, then brewed a cup of coffee and prepared to get her head screwed on straight.

* * *

Max spent the morning worrying and overthinking, until he finally caved and hit the button to call his oldest brother, Colin. He and Ben were both married, but Colin had had more experience with women before settling down. And, when push came to shove, he was the oldest.

“Hey, Max! How the hell are ya?”

Colin’s voice was deep and booming in his ear, and Max smiled. His brothers were definitely loud. “I’m good. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure. Let me head out to the man cave.” Which was a garden shed the size of a half-bath, but it worked for Colin. “What’s up?”

“I need some advice. About a girl.”

“I had this talk with you when you were like twelve years old.”

“I remember. I also remember Chelsea something-or-other punching me in the face because girls do
not,
in fact, like when a boy pinches her ass to get her attention.”

“Ben must have told you that one. I’d never steer my little brother wrong.”

Max laughed and refrained from reciting the many entertaining moments Colin had engineered for his own amusement thanks to having a gullible and very literal younger brother. “In all seriousness, there’s a woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Damn, Max. It’s about time. Does she know about this?”

“She knows I’m attracted to her.”

There was a long silence. “Because it’s you, Max, I have to ask. Are you sure? How have you expressed your attraction?”

“We had sex last night.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a good indicator. So what’s the problem?”

That was a complicated question. “She was helping me find a wife, but now I don’t want to find somebody else. I want her, but her parents are assholes and she doesn’t believe in love anymore.”

“Whoa.” Through the phone, Max heard the pop and hiss of a can being opened. “Slow down and start from the beginning.”

He talked for twenty minutes, starting with his growing awareness of being lonely and wanting somebody to share his life with and meeting Tori and his dates with Nola and, finally, the Halloween party and taking her home.

“She was very firm about it being a casual thing, because that’s all she wants. So this morning I behaved very casually, and she was disappointed. I should have stayed in bed. I should have pushed.”

“Are you
sure
she was disappointed? You know sometimes you’re not good at reading people.”

“I know her and I can tell. That’s the thing, Colin. She knows me, too. She
likes
me. She doesn’t think I’m boring and weird. She recognizes when I need a minute to process what’s going on and she doesn’t push me. She drags me out of my comfort zone, but it’s okay because she’s with me and she makes me laugh.”