Dabbing at her lips with a napkin, Alice placed the white cloth on the table and looked around at the setting.
Her eyes brushed over the beautiful, ceramic plates that were far more expensive than Alice had ever seen. They were a simple pattern, light blue against pristine white. The delicate swirls of color around the perimeter reminded her of a set her grandmother owned; understated, yet elegant, they spoke to a generation of people that was long lost to time. Modern society had moved on from the beauty of the past, however everything about Max, his mannerisms, his clothes, his home and the dishes that sat on the table in front of Alice reminded her of a time long ago.
The sophistication hadn’t been lost on her. The fine food and wine, the delicate table cloth and napkins to match. The food had been delectable, and the atmosphere had helped her breathe easier despite the secrets she’d shared just an hour before.
“I should clean up,” Max said, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor as he stood to collect the soiled dishes.
“Let me help you,” Alice answered, standing up from her own chair to collect a few of the plates and carry them back to the kitchen. Nervousness still a shroud that covered her, she stumbled over her own feet, the dishes spilled from her hands before she could catch her balance.
The plates crashed against the ground, food and shards marring the floor at her feet. Lifting a hand to her mouth, she spun to look at Max where he stood frozen at the table.
“I’m so sorry. I hope – “ Her mind raced with the amount of money the plates must have cost. Even worse than that, she wondered if they weren’t also a set passed down within the family that she’d now turned to useless and broken pieces. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
A gust of breath blew across Max’ lips, his eyes flicking between Alice and the plates that now lay useless and broken. “Luckily, I didn’t use the expensive China tonight. I felt bad about serving you on something that wasn’t the best I had, but now I’m not as regretful about it as I had been.”
“Max, please, I’m sorry. Let me –“ Her words spun off her tongue so fast, she had difficulty getting one thought out before another flooded up her throat.
His steps were heavy across the floor as he approached her, one hand balancing several dishes while his other landed on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Alice. They meant very little to me.” He chuckled and planted a light kiss on her cheek. “There's a dustpan and broom in the pantry closet.” Soft laughter still shaking his shoulders, he said, "Come with me, Alice. We need to clean up the mess you've made."
Following him to the closet and back to the dining room where she’d made the mess, she took the broom and dustpan from his hands and bent over to clean the food and shards from the floor.
His voice tender with affection, Max said, “While you manage that, I'll clear what's left of the table. When you're finished, I'll be in the kitchen washing dishes. You should meet me there so you can help."
She nodded her head, unable to speak around the lump of guilt that festered at the base of her throat.
Finishing up, she walked into the kitchen and dumped the mess into the garbage can lined with a white, plastic bag.
Max stood facing the sink, his shoulders moving beneath the black fabric of his shirt, his shoulder length hair a tangled mess where it hung in wild waves. Alice stood and stared at him for several minutes wondering if he knew she loitered behind him watching the way his arms worked back and forth polishing away the remnants of the dinner he’d cooked for their first night together.
Her eyes traced the lines of his shoulders and back, the muscles that lay corded and partially hidden beneath the folds of his shirt. The dark fabric was stretched taut over his shoulder blades before falling to a point where it followed the tight dip towards his hips. Alice found herself intensely attracted to the man that silently washed dishes, and was impressed with the physique that spoke to everything masculine and strong about him.
A kitchen island stood between them with white cabinets and black granite counters. It was a touch of modern against the vintage features of the Queen Anne style house. She wondered when he’d remodeled the place, but knew from the stainless steel appliances that it couldn’t have been that long since he had the expensive appliances installed. Her eyes looked at the litany of gadgets that littered the front of the large refrigerator and wondered why any person would need a coffee maker in the freezer door.
“Are you going to stand there all night? Or were you planning on helping me?”
He turned to wink at her, a grin tilting the corner of his lips.