Falling for Max (20 page)

Not that he was complaining when the cake had been eaten and the neon
open
sign shut off. There was still the walking home to look forward to, as soon as Tori was finished saying goodbye to her cousin.

While she had her arms wrapped around Gavin’s neck, telling him how wonderfully he was going to do, Max shook Mike’s hand and then Jilly’s, congratulating them. Tori’s aunt seemed nice as she talked about how proud she was of her son and how strange it was going to be not having him around. There were no sideways glances or speculative questions.

Once he’d gotten the chance to wish Gavin luck, it was finally time to head out. Once they were on the sidewalk, she slipped her hand in his and they walked silently in the cold night air.

* * *

Tori tossed her keys onto her counter and took a deep breath. She’d lured Max into attending the party with the promise of walking her home, both of them knowing what that really meant.

But it had been a really crappy afternoon and, after the effort of putting her mood aside to enjoy the party, she just wanted to curl up in a ball and feel sorry for herself. Max’s arms slid around her waist and she sighed.

He kissed the back of her neck. “You’re very tense.”

“I had a rough day, actually.”

“Then sit down and I’ll make you some hot cocoa.”

“That sounds good. I’m going to change first, though.” Comfortable sweats were a pretty universal
not in the mood
signal, but she wasn’t sure if Max would pick up on it or not.

Her mug was already on the coffee table when she was done making herself less attractive, and he joined her on the couch when his was ready. He didn’t seem to even register the sweats, but he left a little space between them.

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” he asked. “Is it Gavin leaving?”

“No. My mom called earlier, about Thanksgiving.” She sighed and leaned her head back against the couch. “And Hailey interlibrary loaned me some books about divorce and toxic relationships and stuff, and they’ve been weighing on my mind a lot.”

“Do you think they’re helping?”

“I tried explaining to Mom that it’s hard to be around when she’s angry, but then she tells me what my father did to make her angry. I told her that nobody wants to hear a litany of complaints over pumpkin pie and all she does is give me the whole list to prove it’s valid.” Tori shrugged one shoulder, rubbing her index finger over the edge of her thumbnail. “One of the chapters I read earlier—right after she called, actually—covered when a toxic person in your life isn’t taking hints or redirection and has to be cut out of your life.”

“If that concept’s disturbing you, I take it you’ve reached that point with your parents?”

“Maybe my mom. Dad’s not quite as bad and I have hope for him, eventually. But they’d have to hear what I say to get the hints. Maybe if the holidays weren’t coming up, it wouldn’t be so bad, but they’re in a frenzy right now.”

He put his arm around her and pulled her close, so she was snuggled against his chest. “Have Thanksgiving with me.”

The words came out in a casual, almost throwaway tone, but alarm bells still went off in Tori’s brain. Thanksgiving was a holiday. Spending holidays together was a big deal. A very big deal. “I was planning on going to Uncle Mike and Aunt Jilly’s. My mom keeps threatening to show up, though. We might all come down with a case of the flu.”

“If you tell her you’re spending the day with a friend, she can’t invite herself and, if you’re not at their house, there’s no reason for your aunt and uncle to have to pretend to be sick on a day dedicated to food. Besides, it would be fun.”

Or it would be intimate. A couple spending Thanksgiving Day together. The familiar fear rose up in the back of her mind, but she did her best to shove it away. “It does sound fun. Friends can eat too much turkey together and then fall asleep on the couch watching movies.”

“Or football.”

“I’ll definitely fall asleep on the couch. But aren’t you supposed to go home to Connecticut?”

He shrugged, which she felt since she was pressed up against him. “With six adults and five kids, they’ll barely notice. And I’ll be going home for Christmas a month later, anyway. They won’t mind. I promise. And it’ll get you out of a tough spot with your parents.”

Tears stung her eyes and she tried to blink them away. “Why can’t I tell them to...I don’t know, go jump off a cliff or something?”

“Because they’re your parents.”

“I don’t want to end up hating them as much as they hate each other.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I wish I knew what to tell you. But I can help you dodge Thanksgiving and maybe they’ll start listening to you.”

She doubted that part, but it would be nice to have a reprieve from the marital warfare, even if it was a brief one. There was no doubt in her mind things would reach a fever pitch leading up to Christmas, just like previous years. One of the books, which she’d already read twice, had a recommended reading list and she made a mental note to ask Hailey to borrow a couple more.

“I’d like to have Thanksgiving with you,” she said. “It’ll be fun.”

“We could try that thing where they shove a duck into a chicken and then shove the chicken into the turkey. Or maybe the chicken gets shoved into the duck. I guess it depends on which one’s bigger.”

She laughed, shoving away from him. “I’d rather go to my mother’s.”

He pulled her back, and she figured he’d make his move now. Maybe slide his hand up under her sweatshirt or start nibbling at her neck, but he only wrapped his arm around her again. “I think a plain turkey would be best. When you start shoving food inside other foods, it must be difficult to figure out the cooking time.”

“Have you ever roasted a turkey?” She assumed, if he always went home to Connecticut, his mother probably did the honors.

“No, but they have directions on the wrapper. And there are YouTube video tutorials for everything.”

She laughed, trying to imagine him watching videos on how to properly stuff a Thanksgiving turkey. “I usually just watch videos of people doing really stupid things.”

“Speaking of videos, where’s your TV remote?”

“Probably under the books on the table next to you,” she said without bothering to lift her head to look. Her hot cocoa was getting cold, but Max was a great pillow.

A few seconds later, her TV came on and he started flipping through channels. “Stop me if you see something you want to watch.”

When he landed on an episode of
Firefly,
she told him to stop. “You can’t pass by an episode of
Firefly.
”

“This one’s early in the season. If it’s a marathon, we’ll still be sitting here hours from now.”

She snuggled deeper into his embrace. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it was a wish,” he said, and rested his cheek on her hair.

Chapter Twenty

Max wore the blue sweater on Sunday. While he’d always known it suited him, because his sister-in-law had told him so when she gave it to him for Christmas a few years before, there was something about the way Tori looked at him when he was wearing it that made him wish he could wear it every day.

Unlike their first trip into the city for dinner, there were no awkward silences, even with the radio turned down low. They’d had some applicants for the cooking position at the diner, and Tori shared Paige’s stories about some of the least qualified. It wasn’t looking good for filling Gavin’s shoes anytime soon, but at least they were all being entertained in the meantime.

They were almost halfway to the restaurant when Tori’s cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her bag and he could tell by the sigh it was probably one of her parents. After the third ring, she hit the button to answer it.

“Hi, Dad.” She was quiet then, and he could hear the faint rumble of a man’s voice, though not the words. “I haven’t looked for your fishing rod yet because I haven’t been to Mom’s house. I’m really busy and I don’t know when I’ll get a chance.”

While her dad responded to that, Max reached over and put his hand on her thigh, trying to offer comfort. Or maybe strength. What he’d like to do was take her cell phone and throw it out the window, but that wouldn’t do any good. She’d just get another one.

“Dad, I’m going to interrupt you because I’m actually on my way out to dinner. I live three hours away from you and Mom. If you want your fishing pole, you need to call your ex-wife and ask her for permission to look in the garage. Call your lawyer if you have to, or buy a new fishing pole, but this is not my problem.”

Max squeezed her leg and she slid her free hand over his, her fingers curling around to squeeze back.

“I’m sorry, Dad, but I don’t have your fishing pole, so those are your options. I have to go now, but I love you and I’ll talk to you soon.”

Once she’d hung up, she shook her head, as if trying to clear it. “Sorry. I should have sent him to voice mail instead of letting him into our date, but then I would have wondered about it. Now it’s done.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She didn’t sound sure, but then she nodded. “Yes, I’m okay. I didn’t tell him to take a flying leap or anything. I just told him getting his fishing pole is his responsibility and not mine. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, there isn’t.” He squeezed her hand, knowing that, no matter what she said, it had been a big step for her. And she’d used the word
date,
which was quite the mood booster. “So you were telling me about the woman who asked Paige if she wanted a grilled cheese sandwich on toasted or plain bread...”

Tori laughed and fell back into the stories from the diner, though she didn’t let go of Max’s hand until he pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot. He went around to make sure she didn’t ding his door and to help her out, getting a kiss for the effort. This was definitely better than the mock date.

“You smell...nice.” He kissed her again. “The good nice.”

“Thank you. Did I tell you how nice you look tonight? Definitely the good nice.”

“You didn’t have to.” He took her hand and started toward the door.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I see the way you look at me in this sweater.” He stopped walking. “Maybe I should leave it in the car. This
is
a family restaurant.”

She slapped his arm and nudged him forward. “I’ve created a monster.”

“So, did Gavin settle into Kennebunkport okay?” he asked her once they’d ordered drinks and their meals.

“Yes, he did. He left yesterday morning and moved into the apartment they helped him find. I guess it’s very small and on the third floor of some grand old mansion, but he can see the ocean and walk to the restaurant.”

“Which is probably good, considering the condition of his truck.”

When Tori laughed, Max was proud to notice more than one male head turned in her direction. “Aunt Jilly’s driving the truck right now. She let him take her car until he saves enough to buy one of his own. So then she took
my
car to do her monthly grocery run because the truck burns too much gas. I really hope Gavin makes good money at that restaurant because we’ll be playing hot potato with his truck until he gets rid of it.”

She talked more about him and her work, but he lost his focus on her words. She was happy tonight, despite the call from her dad. Her eyes sparkled and she was quick with the smile that crinkled the corners of them. She could have been reciting weather forecasts and he would be mesmerized.

She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “Are you listening to me?”

“Of course.” Kind of.

“What did I say?”

“You were telling me how amazing I look in this sweater.”

She snorted. “Close. I asked if you’d started Christmas shopping for your family yet.”

“Oh. I’m done, actually. I always order Christmas gifts the first week of November. Because I wrap them myself and bring them with me instead of having them delivered, I like to leave plenty of time. What about you?”

“I usually do one marathon shopping day, in actual stores, the Saturday before Christmas.”

He frowned. “Between the depleted selection and the crowds, that doesn’t sound very efficient.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s a rush. Like my equivalent of rappelling down a mountain or bungee jumping off a bridge.” She pointed her fork at him. “You know, even though you’re done, you should go with me just to experience it.”

“I’ve never experienced tequila shots, either. I can do one and then the other, and get both experiences out of the way at the same time.”

“I’m not taking you drunk Christmas shopping with me.” She leaned back in her chair and watched him over the rim of her glass as she drank her wine. “I might take you home with me tonight, though, and let you kiss me good-night. And good-morning.”

“It’s the sweater, isn’t it?”

She smiled that smile from the photo on his phone, and his pulse raced. “It’s a really
nice
sweater.”

* * *

By Tuesday, Tori was ready for a day off. She’d found her rhythm, working the ten-to-two shift and doing her design work, as well as spending time with Max, but life at the Trailside Diner was turning into a sitcom. A bad one.

When Max walked in a little before two, she wasn’t surprised when he stopped right inside the door, scowling. His nose wrinkled and he gave her a questioning look as he walked to his regular counter seat. “I may be a little on the straightlaced side, but I did go to college. Why does the diner smell like marijuana?”

Tori grimaced. “Another applicant bites the dust.”

“At least he or she is probably pretty mellow about it.”

“Uh, yeah. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately, depending on your stress levels or general mood—she couldn’t tell the difference between intake and exhaust in the HVAC system and was blowing smoke in the wrong one. Not that either was the right one for dispersing pot smoke on the job, but you know what I mean.”

“What is Paige doing about it?”

“Rose is baking four batches of brownies. The first batch is cooling now if you’d like one.”

“You’re kidding.”

His expression, which showed quite clearly he knew she wasn’t kidding, made her laugh. “As soon as we could smell it, Paige left because she had Sarah in a playpen in the office. Drew came over, and Sam Jensen from the fire department, and they made sure all the exhaust fans were running. And I’m making signs to hang on the door so people can choose whether or not to come in.”

“It’s not very strong,” he said. “Although I’m not sure if it’s growing more faint, if I’m getting accustomed to it, or if I’ve stopped caring.”

“I’ll get you a brownie.” She poured him a coffee and went out back to get two of Rose’s perfectly baked, slightly gooey in the center brownies.

“Those look really rich,” he said when she set the plate in front of him. “I was kidding about being high, you know. There’s a trace odor.”

“I know. But have you ever had one of Rosie’s brownies?” He shook his head. “Then take advantage of the excuse and have two.”

She hung the sign on the door, warning potential customers of the issue and noting that Sam Jensen had given the all-clear for them to remain open. Then she went through the checklist of things to do before Ava showed up, like checking sugar packet supplies and ketchup bottles. It seemed like forever before the clock hit two, and then she was free.

“Did you come to town for errands?” she asked Max once she’d left the diner behind her for the day.

“Yes, if having coffee and a slice of pie is an errand. Although the brownies were better. I also thought maybe I’d see if you wanted to hang out at my place. I’m making tacos for dinner.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.” She tucked her arm through his as they walked down the sidewalk. “I’m going to take my car, though. I can’t stay too late.”

He bumped her with his hip. “How late?”

“Late enough,” she said, and then she laughed when he gave her a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. “I want tacos first, though. I don’t remember the last time I had tacos.”

Since she was taking her own car, anyway, Tori took a few minutes to shower and change into non-diner clothes before heading over to Max’s house. She probably should have declined the invitation, she thought as she drove, a country singer belting out a song about moonlight, sex and tailgates on the radio. It was a problem, her inability to hold Max at arm’s length. Or, more accurately, her lack of desire to keep him at a slight distance.

She’d been excusing it to herself with the friends-with-benefits line. They hung out together a lot because they were friends. They had sex because that was the benefit. The truth—that they were together whenever possible because they liked being together and pretty much met the definition of a real couple—was like a sore tooth. Occasionally she’d gingerly poke at it until it hurt, and then she had to stop. But, also like a sore tooth, she was going to have to face it eventually.

But not tonight. She cranked the volume knob on her radio, letting the song drown out her thoughts. She’d already accepted his invitation and she didn’t want to disappoint him. Plus, there would be tacos. As long as she kept telling herself she was in it for the food and the orgasms, she would be fine.

When she arrived, he took her down in the basement to show off an engine he’d just finished painting. She loved the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the train’s history and she didn’t have to feign interest when he pulled a huge, obviously old book off a shelf and showed her the picture of the real-life version he’d worked from.

They lingered in the basement for a while and then she sat at the kitchen island to watch him start prepping for dinner. She knew he preferred to eat at six, but he was making the tacos earlier than usual.

“I know you don’t want to stay late,” he said, pulling a variety of vegetables out of the fridge.

“Mmm-hmm.” She’d told him she wanted tacos before sex, so he was trying to get them out of the way as quickly as he could get away with.

He talked about his family while he cooked. His mother had called earlier, so he had a lot of news from Connecticut. Though Tori didn’t know any of them, she liked hearing him talk about his parents, his brothers and their families. Love and amused affection was strong in his voice and he was animated in a way he usually reserved for sports and trains.

“Did you tell your mom about me?” she asked when he paused for a moment.

He stopped chopping a strip of green pepper and looked at her, but his gaze returned to the pepper without really making eye contact. “I told her about you. I...I told her we’re friends.”

But not friends with benefits. It hurt somehow, that his family didn’t know she was more than just a buddy who stopped by to watch ball games, but she was the one who’d made the rules. Throwing around cute phrases with his mom that were meant to elevate casual sex between friends wasn’t anybody’s style, really, but especially not Max’s.

“Your mom sounds really awesome,” she said. “Your whole family does, actually.”

“Like any family, there are rough spots, but yes, I think they’re pretty awesome.”

Lucky guy, she thought.

An hour later, she’d had her fill of tacos and was ready to work them off. Because it was habit, Max went into the living room after they’d cleaned up and started looking for a movie for them to watch. She liked cuddling on the couch with him, but she’d been poking at that emotional sore tooth too much and she needed sex, not affection.

She went into his bedroom and stripped off her clothes. Then she took one of his crisp, white button shirts and pulled it on. It came almost to her knees and she had to roll the sleeves several times, but she liked the way it looked and she thought Max would, too.

Standing in front of the TV, he was flipping through the channels, so she leaned against the doorjamb. “Hey, Max.”

“There’s nothing worth watching on tonight. We might have to break out a DVD.”

“Max.”

He turned, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “I—”

The remote fell out of his hand as the annoyance magically disappeared from his features. She waited, but he didn’t say anything. That intense gaze raked over her body and she felt the thrill of victory. There would be no cuddling in front of the television tonight.

“Now I know why I love long-sleeve button shirts so much,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve been waiting to see you in one.”

“Enjoy the view, because it won’t be on long.”

Giving her a naughty grin, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “We should update your contact photo.”

“Max!” She turned to retreat back to his room, but his legs were a lot longer than hers, so she actually had to run.

She didn’t get the door closed in time and it hit the palm of his hand with a thud. “You are not taking pictures, Max.”

His cell phone appeared in the gap and she plucked it out of his fingers. As soon as she had it, she backed up and he pushed the door open. “It’s good to keep contact photos updated, you know.”