His mind wasn’t in it today, though. He wasn’t able to lose himself in the details so completely that he lost track of time.
Tomorrow afternoon, he was going on a date with Nola Kendrick. She was attractive, as Tori had said, and she dressed nicely. She seemed kind. And, even though he’d felt awkward asking her if she’d like to have dinner at the diner on Saturday evening, she’d seemed flattered and hadn’t hesitated before accepting his invitation.
That was a good thing. And Tori had certainly been happy for him. When he’d left the town hall and told her how it had gone on the way back to his car, she’d whooped and high-fived him like a buddy would.
Then she’d retrieved her soup from his trunk, wished him luck and walked away.
With a sigh, Max put away the engine and cleaned up. Then he covered his work space with a drop cloth and took Josh’s tractor off a shelf. Years of grime were built up on the toy, so he took a wire brush and started gently sloughing it off. It required a light touch, but not much in the way of concentration, and at least he could still feel as if he was being productive.
About twenty minutes later, his phone—which was sitting on the top step where it could both get a signal and be heard—chimed. After dropping the brush and wiping his hands on a rag, he picked it up and locked the basement behind him. The text was from Tori.
Don’t wear the funeral suit tomorrow.
He smiled, having gotten that point when she laughed at him the night of their mock date. I have a casual suit coat my grandfather gave me. It would look nice with khakis.
I’m coming over tomorrow. Don’t get dressed until I get there.
Before he could respond another text came through.
I mean get dressed. Don’t be naked. But don’t dress for your date.
It’s a nice coat. I think you’ll approve.
Fair warning, I’ll be going through your closet. If there’s anything in there you don’t want me to see, move it now.
He laughed, wondering what a guy would keep in his closet besides clothes, belts and shoes. Considering myself warned. We’re meeting at five. Nola likes to eat early.
Six o’clock was his preferred time, but he knew flexibility was the way to go. Perhaps she had shows she liked to watch in the evening or pets to feed.
I’ll be there at three-thirty.
Max smiled and grabbed an apple to snack on before he went back to work. He already knew what he’d be wearing on his date and he was fairly certain Tori would approve of his choice, but he liked pushing her buttons.
And, to be honest with himself, he just wanted to see her. Poking through his closet was as good a reason for her to come over as any.
Chapter Ten
“You own an overabundance of long-sleeve button shirts.” Tori stared into Max’s closet with her hands on her hips.
“I like long-sleeve button shirts.”
She didn’t turn around to talk to Max because he was sitting on the edge of his bed. His very large bed, which was covered by a soft comforter in a dark sage green. The bed skirt, and therefore presumably the sheets, were a light taupe, as were the tiebacks on the sage drapes. Both colors were in the braided rug, along with some shades of blue, covering the hardwood floor.
It was all very attractive and neutral, except for the distraction of Max. As he’d very matter-of-factly led her to his closet, it had belatedly occurred to Tori that going through his closet would require being in his bedroom. With him.
Not the best planning on her part.
Now she was staring at his impressive collection of dress shirts while trying not to imagine him naked. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to resist, but from now on she was going to be able to imagine him naked in his bed.
“What about a sweater?” she asked, desperate to get her mind back on clothing. Clothing was good and the more layers, the better.
“Third drawer down.”
She laughed, putting up her hands. “I’m not rummaging through your dresser drawers.”
“Not all of them. But the third one down only has sweaters in it.”
Since it didn’t sound like he had moved, she sighed and moved to his dresser. There were a few ceramic steins on top that looked like some kind of railroad collectibles. Other than that, just the normal debris. Some change. A comb. A few buttons that probably came as extras with his fancy shirts. It was pretty boring as far as dresser tops went.
She pulled open the third drawer down and removed a heather blue-colored Irish knit sweater. It was incredibly soft and, with this coloring, it would look amazing on him. “This one.”
“There are quite a few sweaters to choose from in there.”
“Nope. This one.” She turned to face him, sweater in hand, and then froze.
He’d started out sitting on the edge of the bed, but at some point he’d leaned back onto his elbows. Stretched out like that on the comforter, he looked so very tempting. Max, in his element and totally at ease, was a delicious sight to behold.