Yes, it could be that easy.
Then my eyes drifted back, I smiled and pressed deeper into him when I said, “Yes. I’ve got loads of holiday. I’ll call my assistant, get her to shift some things around. Then I’ll call David, he’s a partner and my boss. He’ll be okay with it, he likes me.”
Max’s head went up slightly but his brows drew together sharply.
“He likes you?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
I was still smiling when I said, “A lot, seeing as I’m a good employee. His gay partner also likes me. No, his partner Nigel actually adores me but not because I’m a good employee, because I make fantastic martinis or at least that’s what Nigel says. They like me so much, they’ve asked me to be godmother to their new Russian orphan baby.”
Max’s brows had unknit and his body was pressing me deeper into the truck when he smiled back and asked, “Did you say yes?”
“Of course, she’s adorable and godmother duties include buying her ridiculously frilly dresses throughout childhood and then repeatedly explaining that men are idiots through her teen years and then she’s honor-bound to come visit me at the nursing home when I’m old and gray.”
One of his arms came from around me so he could cup my jaw in his hand and he was still smiling but his eyes were soft when he said, “Only you.”
“Sorry?”
“Only you,” he repeated.
“Only me what?”
“Only you would have some senior citizen swipin’ at me with his cane. You knew him a day, he knew I could break him in two and still, he thought I laid a hand on you and he came at me. And only you would have a Russian orphan goddaughter you buy frilly dresses.”
“It’s a godmother duty,” I reminded him.
His hand at my jaw tightened and he whispered, “It’s Nina.”
The way he said those two words made tears flood my eyes and my throat feel thick.
Okay so, again, Max had proved my fears moot. He wasn’t going to figure out I wasn’t cute because the fact of the matter was, he thought I was cute. And apparently there was no shaking that.
“Max,” I warned, my voice sounding as thick as my throat felt, “you’re being nice.”
“Yeah,” he agreed then tipped my face up, touched his lips to mine and when he was done he pulled back a bit, dropped his hand to curl around my neck and changed the subject. “How would you feel I was on that plane with you?”
I liked the lip touch and the heavy warmth of his hand at my neck and the fact that he was nice so much I was focused on those things and I wasn’t following.
“Sorry?”
“Could talk to Bitsy, Trev can keep things goin’ for awhile. I could go with you, see Charlie’s house, stay in England a couple of weeks.”
“Are you serious?” I breathed, my eyes wide.
He looked at my face a second then burst out laughing.
When he was done laughing but he was still smiling, he instructed, “Don’t bother answerin’ the question, babe.”
“Okay,” I whispered, too overcome with happiness that this meant another week with him in his A-Frame and two more with him in Charlie’s house.
I could show him pictures of Charlie!
“For once, I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he broke into my thoughts, his smile now a grin, “except it’s good.”
“I’m thinking, if you come to England I can show you pictures of Charlie,” I shared happily and watched with no small amount of fascination as his face got soft but his eyes grew warm.
“I’d like that,” he muttered.
“Nina!” Niles’s voice snapped from my left.
My head twisted to the side and Max’s hand moved from my neck as I stared in shock at Niles in tan, large whale corduroys, a navy pea coat with a navy turtleneck showing out of the collar, standing on the wooded sidewalk facing Max and I, his tan, leather glove-covered hands on the wooden railing. He was wearing this get up even though the weather had again turned and it had to be at least sixty degrees Fahrenheit.
The minute I looked at him, his face paled and his eyes grew huge.
Then, his voice almost shrill, he asked, “What happened to your face?”
“What are you still doing here?” I asked back.
“What happened to your face?” he shouted then his eyes went straight to Max and he demanded to know, “Did you do that to her?”
“I’m gettin’ tired of that shit,” Max murmured as his body got tight in my arms.
“No!” I answered Niles sharply, giving Max a squeeze. “I have a mountain man gone bad stalker.”
“A what?” Niles asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” I told him, reluctantly dropping one arm from Max and turning to face Niles and when I did, Max turned too, his arm going around my shoulders and my other arm dropped to his waist, my thumb hooking in his side belt loop as I went on, “I asked, what are you still doing here?”
“I called you four times yesterday,” Niles told me, not answering my question.
“And?”
“You didn’t take any of my calls.”
“And?”