Then I pushed at his shoulders and bucked my body, neither to any avail.
“We’re not going to celebrate. I’m changing my mind. I’m only coming back to look in on Mindy, have a beer with Arlene at The Dog, stop by Bitsy’s and have a latte and do a bit of shopping. Then I’m going right back to England.”
Max’s mouth came to mine and he said, “Cotton’ll be pissed, you don’t make him a fish pie.”
“Then I’ll carve some time out for Cotton, now get off.”
He didn’t get off. He slanted his head and kissed me. I tried to turn my head away but both his hands framed my face and kept me stationary. This didn’t work so well for him, since I kept my mouth closed.
Max lifted his head and demanded, “Stop bein’ pissed, Duchess, and open your mouth for me.”
I glared at him. He grinned.
Then all of a sudden the grin died and his eyes moved over my face as his thumb stroked my cheekbone.
After he did this for awhile, he muttered his confession, “I was a dick.”
I pulled in breath, shocked not only that he admitted it but that he understood he was being one.
“Shit comes up with Curt, history, for me, for Bitsy,” Max went on and my body tensed under his for I knew some of the history and guessed the rest and wondered if now he was going to talk about it. “Normally, I can let it go. Today it was in my face and I didn’t handle it very well.”
I waited for him to say more and for awhile he didn’t, he just kept looking into my eyes. Then he did.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone I gave a shit enough about to share anything with and I’m out of practice.”
This was something, a hint, and I waited for more. This time, I didn’t get it.
Instead, his thumb drifted over my bottom lip while his eyes watched it then he dipped his head and touched his mouth to mine before lifting his head again.
His hand cupping my jaw, he whispered, “I fucked up, baby.”
I closed my eyes and turned my head away, disappointed, no, beyond disappointed.
But at least he could admit when he was wrong. That was something.
I opened my eyes, looked at him and gave in. “Don’t worry about it, Max. It’s been…” I searched for a word and settled on, “crazy.”
He touched his lips to mine again before he pulled slightly away.
“Promise me you won’t sit in another man’s lap.” His voice was gentle but serious and I nodded.
“I think I got that.”
“And don’t call anyone ‘darling’. That’s mine.”
I swallowed, liking that he’d claimed that, and nodded again.
His forehead came to mine and he whispered, “Love it when you call me that in your accent, honey.”
My body relaxed under his and my hands went to his waist but I reminded him, “I don’t have an accent.”
I watched from close as he grinned.
“Now, Duchess, what exactly is a lawyer desk?”
I couldn’t help it, I grinned back. “Can I tell you while I make us something for dinner?”
Max lifted his head. “Yeah, dinner would be good. Then we’re gonna celebrate.”
“No, then we’re going to finish my movie.”
“Babe, that movie’s shit.”
“I know but I was kind of into it.”
He grinned again then his eyes dropped to my mouth. “I want a kiss first.”
My body relaxed even more under him and I whispered, “Okay.”
“I want your mouth open this time.”
I felt a shiver on my skin (and elsewhere) as I repeated, “Okay.”
“Give it to me, baby.”
I lifted my head and put my mouth to his and repeated yet again, “Okay.”
Then I opened my mouth and kissed him.
*
We were in the kitchen, the water was at the boil and I had the cookie sheet out as well as all the fixings for dinner.
Max had asked me what I wanted to drink, I’d requested a glass of wine from the bottle he opened last night (the Chardonnay this time) and he’d poured it for me.
Now he was standing hips against the sink, drinking beer and watching me. I opened the packet of hot dogs and he burst out laughing.
My eyes went to him. “What?”
His head dipped to the counter. “This duchess food?”
“What?” I repeated and he walked up to me, putting his beer on the counter and picking up the tube of biscuits.
“Mac and cheese and pigs in a blanket with white fuckin’ wine,” he stated through his smile. “Is this duchess food?”
“No, it’s Nina’s Home in America Food. They don’t have macaroni and cheese in a box and biscuits in a tube in England and when I’m home I eat the food I like that I don’t get in England.” He kept smiling at me as he pulled the wrapper off the tube then rapped it on the edge of the counter so it gave a soft “poof” as it exploded open. “Max!” I cried. “You stole the fun part!”