“Oh, you know, we read some Clifford and then we went to the pet store to see the real Cliffords.”
“No kidding. What did Dylan think?”
I grinned, remembering her reaching her chubby fingers out to one of the brown-spotted puppies. “She kept pointing to the puppies and calling them babies.”
Max grinned. “Tell me you’re not hiding a dog somewhere in this house?”
I shook my head. “Not yet, but it was a close call. I think Dylan named every dog in the store.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep. Most of them are named ball, but a couple are confusingly named bird.”
He laughed again. “Sounds about right. I was ‘ball’ for the first two days we were together.”
I tilted my head to the side. “Yeah, I could see that. Your head is very round.”
He fake scowled at me and I grinned.
Silence fell between us then, and I combed through my memories of the day, trying to think of something cute Dylan had said or done so that we wouldn’t get down to the crux of the matter—not just yet, at least. Nothing was coming, though, and Max was starting to look at me with that intense, hungry gleam in his eyes again. I knew what he was thinking, what he wanted.
I took a gulp of wine for courage.
“So,” he said.
“So,” I repeated, my pulse beating a quick rhythm.
“Have you thought about my proposition?” he asked.
Have I thought of anything else?
I should say no. Maybe if I say no, he’ll give me another day, or maybe a week. Enough time so that I’m not a complete chicken the next time he asks me.
“I have.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think . . .” My mind tripped through the words, picking the first few that jumped out. “I think I don’t know. I think I want to, but I . . . I also don’t want to.”
He nodded, thoughtful. “And what makes you not want to do it?”
“I’m nervous about Dylan. If something should happen between us . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“Do you think I would let the personal matters between you and me interfere with my daughter getting the best care possible?”
“Well, no,” I admitted. “But feelings can get messy, and people behave all sorts of ways they don’t intend to. What if it gets weird and you decide to let me go? I’m sure there’s someone else just as good who can—”
“Nobody is as good with my daughter as you are. You two are inseparable. I know that, and I wouldn’t let you go for anything that happened between us, ever. Let’s get that straight.”
“Oh,” I said. The tips of my ears heated, and I knew it wouldn’t be long until the heat spread to my cheeks again, a sure tell that he’d flattered me.
His lips tilted to the side. “So that’s the reason you don’t want to. What makes you want to do it?”
I blinked at him, incredulous that he’d even have to ask. “The way you look at me. Nobody has ever looked at me like that.” I shook my head, trying to find a way to express myself that was true, but not too corny. “I’m curious, I guess. To be with a man who knows what he wants and who can make me feel . . .” Like my whole body is on fire? “Like a real woman,” I finished, my voice husky with embarrassment. “Who makes me feel desirable.”
Heat sparked in his eyes, and he nodded. “That’s only because you are desirable.”
Slowly, he took my wine from me, brushing his pointer finger gently against mine. Even at that slightest touch, my arms broke out in goose bumps, and I was practically panting as he reached across me, setting my drink on the table and allowing his masculine smell to take over my senses.
Then he turned to me, taking my hand in his and looking so deep into my eyes, I was sure he could see through me.
“Let me show you.”
Now was the moment. It was my chance. Sink or swim.
Holding my breath, I nodded, and he leaned closer until his lips were only a whisper away. Then they were on mine and I was sinking. Fast.
His mouth was warm and inviting, and he wrapped his hand around the back of my head, weaving his fingers through my damp hair. It was gentle at first, almost like he was giving me one last chance to back away, but the second I felt his skin against mine, I knew there was no chance that I’d let him go. Not now that heaven was just a breath away.
His tongue swept out, and I opened my mouth to accept his invitation. Just as gently, he brushed his tongue along the bottom of my lip, teasing and coaxing me until I met him with my own. He twined his tongue with mine, pushing the kiss deeper until I let out a little moan of longing.