“Don’t call me cute when I’m angry!” I exclaimed, now totally loud.
His eyes went over my shoulder before coming back to me then he asked, “You want the whole restaurant in on our conversation?”
I looked in the direction his eyes pointed and saw a lot of people, including Trudy, Sarah, Harry and Shauna as well as others were watching.
Then I turned back to Max, gave him a glare which would have melted paint off the walls but didn’t appear to affect him in the slightest and I flounced (yes, flounced but I decided I could forgive myself for flouncing as it was definitely a flouncing moment) in the direction where I hoped there would be restrooms.
Luckily, I was correct.
Once there, I blew my nose, washed my hands and looked in the mirror wishing I’d brought my purse so I could fix my lipstick.
Then I pulled in breath through my nose, rested my hands against the sink and whispered to my reflection, “What on earth am I doing?”
You’re living your life, Neenee Bean, Charlie said into my head, he sounded pleased and I watched my eyes go wide in the mirror.
Then I looked behind me. Then I looked under the two stalls behind me. The room was empty, except for me.
“I’m going insane,” I muttered. “Going insane in the snowy mountains like Jack Nicholson in The Shining except without the spooky hotel.”
No one replied because no one was there.
I decided being alone wasn’t good. I was hearing voices when I was alone. Charlie’s voice and as much as I wanted to hear Charlie’s voice, would have paid every penny I had, sold everything I owned, made a deal with the devil to hear Charlie’s voice, I didn’t want to hear it in my head.
I walked back into the restaurant smiling at Sarah and Trudy along the way, noticing Harry avoid my eyes and Shauna stare daggers at me and then I looked at Max.
He was eating an onion ring while he slid out of the booth.
“I see you didn’t wait for me,” I noted, my eyes on his chewing mouth then I slid into the booth.
“I ate a ring, Duchess, relax,” he returned as he sat in the booth beside me.
“Whatever,” I muttered and looked at my food of which there was a lot. The burger itself could feed four people. All of it was in a red, oval, plastic basket protected by a sheet of thin, white, wax paper.
It looked utterly delicious.
I reached for the ketchup.
“Got burgers in England?” Max asked.
“Yes,” I answered, squirting ketchup in a pile by the onion rings and not sharing with him that English burgers were not much to write home about.
“Buffalo burgers?”
“At gourmet burger places, yes,” I answered, dipping in a ring.
“Babe?” Max called and I looked at him, onion ring halfway to my mouth. “Prepare to be dazzled,” he finished on a grin then turned to his food.
I turned to mine.
He wasn’t wrong, the food was so good, I was definitely dazzled.
*
“Sleep,” I muttered, wandering drowsily into the A-Frame and sliding my coat down my arms as Max flipped on a light.
“Honey, I told you, you shouldn’t have had the hot fudge sundae,” Max said from behind me and I heard the door close.
He was right and he was wrong. The burger and onion rings more than filled me up but I saw the hot fudge sundae slide by on Trudy’s tray going to someone else’s table and I couldn’t help myself. They didn’t have hot fudge in England not like they had at home.
And anyway, I was on vacation.
Even so, the hot fudge sundae was definitely overkill.
But it wasn’t the hot fudge sundae making me drowsy. It was the fact that we spent the last two hours sitting in a bar called Drake’s a block down from the restaurant, listening to Max’s friend Josh play guitar and sing while Max drank Budweiser and I drank Fat Tire. Josh was good, really good but even so I ended up slouched into Max’s side, his arm around me, my head on his shoulder. I knew I shouldn’t be slouching with my body resting against his and my head on his shoulder but I couldn’t help it. It was comfortable, the beer tasted great but was mellowing me out, the music was nice, my belly was super full and I was tired.
I hooked my coat and purse in the closet, closed the door and turned to Max.
“Who gets the bed tonight?” I asked and he walked up to me and stopped, toe to toe, and I was too tired to back away.
His hand wrapped around the back of my head and he pulled me toward him and I was too tired to fight that too.
Then he kissed my forehead.
I blinked at his throat as his sweet kiss hit me like a freight train. It felt good, better than any kiss I’d ever had and it wasn’t even on my lips.
“You go on up,” he muttered against my forehead, dropped his hand, turned and walked away, shrugging off his coat.
I stared at his back and decided tomorrow I was definitely out of there. I might not even go to Denver. I might drive straight to Kansas City.
I was not, however, going to pass up sleeping in his bed that was how tired I was.