“Exactly.” She beamed as she handed him a thick turquoise bath towel. “I had the exact same reaction the first time I saw it, and knew this was where I wanted to live. Even if it’s foggy outside seventy percent of the time. And if I ever complain about the weather, I think back to all those hot, humid days in South Carolina and realize how lucky I am to be living here.”
“Trust me,” he assured her as he began to towel off. “the fog here is nowhere near as bad as it can be in England. The fog there can chill you to the bone it’s so wet and cold and thick. At least here the temperatures never dip much lower than the high forties even in the middle of winter. And it doesn’t rain nearly as much, though the snow and sleet in England are far worse than the rain.”
She wrapped a towel around her sarong style before taking a comb to her hair. “I still want to visit England one day, though, no matter how bad the weather might be. Maybe during a time of the year when it’s a little warmer, like late summer or early fall.”
“Perhaps.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Now, let’s get dressed so I can feed you. That last growl your stomach made sounded rather ominous.”
She stuck her tongue out at him playfully but was quick to pull on her discarded jeans, sweater, and shoes before grabbing a jacket and a knit cap to wear over her damp curls. He dressed with equal speed, then ushered her out to his car, grateful to notice the rain had stopped for now and the sun was even attempting to make an appearance.
They ate a quick brunch at a small but cozy café a couple of blocks away - Jill tucking into a plate of scrambled eggs and potatoes and a blueberry muffin while Max ordered the avocado toast with poached eggs on top. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until their food arrived, and was grateful Jill had insisted on being fed. As he’d expected, his friends had leapt at the opportunity to meet Jill and come over to her place for dinner this evening, but wouldn’t be arriving until after seven, still hours from now.
Max took a sip of his tea - he tended to switch back and forth between that and coffee depending on his need for caffeine - and smiled as he watched Jill lick muffin crumbs off her fingers. She hadn’t taken the time to put any makeup on after their shower, and he realized how much he preferred this natural look of hers. Her peach-toned complexion still had that youthful glow of vitality, without the tiniest sort of blemish or freckle to mar its perfection. Those unusual pale green eyes seemed to have a life of their own at times, sparkling with mischief or alight with pleasure or heavy-lidded with desire. Her full, plump mouth was as expressive as the rest of her features, nearly always curved up in a smile. She had such a joie de vivre about her, found enjoyment in often the simplest things, that it was impossible to resist such exuberance and joy. He recalled now that he had always felt such comfort by her presence, had smiled and laughed more in their time together in Seattle than he had ever done in his life, and had never before known the kind of pure, blissful happiness he had experienced with Jill. And to know that he was on the verge of feeling that same sort of idyllic pleasure every day from now on filled him with a sense of wonder.
He brushed a tiny crumb from the corner of her mouth. “Enjoying your food, love?” he asked teasingly.
She wrinkled her pert little nose at him. “Every single morsel,” she declared. “I would have ordered a second muffin but I’d better save room for dinner. Not that I haven’t burned off something like three thousand calories already today, thanks to you, Mr. Insatiable.”
Max grinned. “I didn’t hear you complaining when my so-called insatiability resulted in several very nice orgasms on your end.”
Jill blushed profusely, glancing around anxiously to make sure no one in the vicinity had overheard. “Max!” she whispered in protest. “Don’t say those kinds of things in public.”
He laughed in delight. “You still haven’t completely broken free of all those rules and restrictions your grandmother imposed on you, have you? Though I must say you didn’t seem very shy this morning.”
She winced as she shifted slightly on her chair. “Maybe not, but what I definitely am is a little sore. Guess that’s what happens after spending the entire morning in bed with your insatiable lover.”
Max winked at her suggestively. “And if you hadn’t insisted on inviting my pesky friends over for dinner tonight, I would have suggested spending all afternoon and evening in your bed, too. Maybe tomorrow. Or next weekend. We can try my bed out then. It’s king sized, lots more room to - ah, move around. My shower has considerably more space, too. You’ll see when we stop by there in a little while. I’ll be happy to give you the grand tour.”
Jill made very certain he fulfilled that particular promise when they stopped by his house after first hitting the grocery store. She looked around in awe as he showed her each room in his house - the gourmet kitchen, elegant living room, seldom used dining room, and his office, where she sighed in bliss at the sight of the comfy armchairs set in front of the fireplace, along with the view of the secluded garden from the padded window seat.
“This is where I’d spend hours at a time,” she declared, plopping down on the cushions. “With a good book in hand, a big cup of coffee, and this view. Either that or curled up in one of those chairs in front of a roaring fire.”
“You can do both of those things next weekend,” he promised. “That is, if you’d like to spend the time with me, stay overnight.”
“Of course I would!” she enthused, springing from the window seat and into his arms. “I’d love to stay here with you, Max. You have a beautiful home, and I already know that you helped to decorate it yourself.”
He shrugged as he began to tug her along in his wake. “Quite a bit of it at least. I did have professional help along the way. And almost the entire place needed extensive remodeling. I’ll show you before and after photos sometime. The transformation is rather astonishing. Come, let me show you upstairs, though it’s just bedrooms and baths. And the lower level is the garage and some storage, though there’s still plenty of room to build out if it’s ever needed.”
She ran her hand lovingly over the intricately carved wooden bannister as she followed him up the staircase to the second floor. She nodded in approval as he showed her a guest room that had never been used, a second bedroom that he used mostly for storage, and then his own room.
“Oh, my, God!” she squealed as she walked inside the spacious room with its high ceilings, crown molding, and bay window complete with its own window seat. “This is like a king’s bedroom or something, Max. And you weren’t kidding about the bed.”
She sat down on the edge of the king sized bed, bouncing up and down as she tried out the mattress. He sat down beside her, sliding an arm around her waist as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“A bed that I’ve never shared with anyone else until this very moment,” he whispered. “In fact, except for Jordan and Finn and their fiancées, no one else has even been inside the house. But I intend for all of that to change now, Jill. I want to share everything with you - my home, my bed, my life.”
“Max.”
She kissed him with such exquisite tenderness that it made his heart ache a little. Never in his life had anyone treated him the way his Jill did - with a selfless love, pure devotion, and utter compassion. It would take him a very long time, he realized as he kissed her back, to figure out how he had ever become so lucky to deserve a woman like her.
***
“Are you positive everything looks okay? On second thought, maybe we should have had this dinner at your place. Or met at a restaurant. We’re all going to be packed in here like sardines, and I don’t even have enough chairs for everyone, and - ”
Max held up a hand to silence whatever she’d been about to say next. “And no one is going to care,” he stated firmly. “We’ve already agreed to make this buffet style, which means the seating arrangements can be flexible. Knowing Finn he’ll be happy sitting on the floor without shoes on and eating with
his hands. I can’t tell you how many times he’s done something like that in the past. Though I must say ever since he started dating Delilah his manners - and his wardrobe - have improved greatly.”
“Speaking of which. Are you sure I’m dressed appropriately? I mean, this doesn’t seem very fancy at all, and I know Delilah is a fashion designer so she’ll probably be looking me over and judging my outfit. Discreetly, I’m sure, but I still think I should change, don’t you?” asked Jill worriedly.
“No.” Max shook his head. “You look perfect, Jill. Absolutely perfect. And we told our guests that this was to be a casual thing, and that they should dress down. And, yes, Delilah happens to be very fashion savvy but there is no way she’s going to look down her nose at you or find even the tiniest fault with how you look. She’s not that way, for one, and there’s no fault to be found in your appearance. So relax, would you? Maybe I should pour you a glass of wine to calm your nerves a bit.”
“I’ll pass, thanks. My tolerance for alcohol might have improved a little over the years, but there’s no way I want to get tipsy the first time I meet your friends. Who are more like your family, by the way. I’ll just go light the candles.”
“I’ll do it,” offered Max. “You’re so on edge right now you might accidentally set the place on fire.”
Jill made a face at him, but didn’t argue the point as he calmly lit the half dozen candles she’d arranged on her coffee table. She took a few deep, calming breaths, reassuring herself yet again that everything was ready, that the evening would go off without a hitch, and that Max’s friends would hopefully both like and approve of her. Of the three worries, the last one concerned her most.
At Max’s suggestion they had ordered Italian food - a large green salad, sourdough bread, and a huge pan of chicken marsala and pasta that was being kept warm in the oven. Delilah and Finn had insisted on bringing dessert, while Jordan and Aubrey were contributing an appetizer. Max had selected several bottles from his wine cellar at home and brought them over for this evening. Jill had fretted over her mismatched dishes, flatware, and wine glasses, but Max had assured her no one would care.
She dashed into the bathroom to wash her hands and brush her hair one last time, and couldn’t help but study her reflection in the mirror critically. She still wasn’t convinced that her outfit of a black and white striped sweater, short black wool skirt, ribbed tights, and the black ankle booties that Max seemed enamored of for some reason were fancy enough for meeting his friends for the first time. Max had insisted she didn’t need to wear any makeup, that he actually preferred her au natural, but Jill had given him a look of disbelief before applying a subtle amount of bronzer, eye shadow, mascara, and pale pink lip gloss. She’d left her long hair loose, though she fretted now that it made her look too young. Did she have time to pin it up in a knot, she mused to herself, starting to look for some hairpins.
“There you are. And don’t even think of doing anything different with your hair. It looks perfect just like that. I’ve always loved your hair, you know.”
Jill sighed as Max pressed his chest against her back, lifting a strand of her hair as he did so and rubbing its silkiness over his cheek. “It’s too long,” she complained. “I look like a schoolgirl.”
“It is not too long, and you look nothing like a schoolgirl,” he corrected. “Especially,” he added as he nuzzled the side of her neck, “when you’re wearing those sexy as fuck boots. The stockings are an extra added bonus, even if they aren’t the sort that attach to a garter belt. Mmm, I might have to take you shopping at the lingerie shop down the block from my office. I seem to recall you look very, very alluring in black lace.”
She whimpered as he cupped her breast, his thumb brushing lightly over the nipple. “God, that feels good,” she whispered.
He kissed her lightly on the cheek before stepping back. “To be continued later. Or didn’t you hear the knock on your front door just now?”
Jill gave a little shriek of alarm as she all but shoved him out of her way in her haste to get to the door. “Omigod, now you’ve made my nipple hard and everyone is going to know what we were just doing and - and why don’t I just wait in the bedroom for a couple of minutes while you let everyone in?”
“Not a chance,” replied Max cheerily, taking her firmly by the hand. “You’re the hostess, after all. And this was your idea, love. Stop worrying, hmm? Everything is going to be just fine.”
Clutching his hand for reassurance, she forced herself to smile as Max opened the front door to reveal four very eager, inquisitive faces peering back at them. She knew from Max’s descriptions that the tall, lean man with black hair and a devilish grin was Jordan, and the long-legged blonde beauty tucked against his side was his soon-to-be wife Aubrey, while Finn was the one with shaggy dirty blonde hair and a perpetually flirty smile, and the petite, dressed-to-kill brunette was his fiancée Delilah.
Max swiftly introduced her to all four of his friends as they entered her suddenly far too small apartment. Jordan bent down to give her a quick peck on the cheek, while Aubrey hugged her in greeting. Finn, as Max had predicted, gave Jill a much longer hug and winked at her as Delilah stepped forward to say hello. But instead of a friendly hug or kiss, the stunning brunette merely extended her hand as she seemed to be carefully sizing Jill up.
Jill shook her hand, more than a little unsettled by the other woman’s intense onceover. “Um, so nice to meet you, Delilah. Welcome.”
A slow smile began to tilt the corners of Delilah’s red-glossed mouth upwards, and her dark eyes sparkled as she squeezed Jill’s hand. “Okay,” she mused thoughtfully. “I totally get it now. Totally understand why Max was so torn up over you for all this time. You are a very pleasant surprise, Jill Parrish, and I’m so happy that you and Max have found each other again. Welcome to our little group. Which is really more like a family, as you’ll come to realize very soon.”
Delilah enveloped Jill in a hug this time, then moved on to embrace Max and murmur to him approvingly, “She was worth waiting for, Max. And I hoped you’ve warned her not to take Finn’s flirting seriously.”
“I’ve cautioned Jill not to take anything Finn might say too seriously,” replied Max dryly. “She’s also been warned that he might discard his shoes and socks before the evening is over.”
Finn chuckled good-naturedly and shook his head. “Nah, not tonight. Too damned cold and wet outside to go barefoot. Though if it was a little warmer I’d be suggesting we eat outside. Even in the dark that yard looks awfully inviting.”
As Max served cocktails and Aubrey uncovered the platter of assorted cheeses, charcuterie, olives, and crackers she’d brought for an appetizer, Jill felt herself begin to relax. And as the evening wore on, she found herself chatting and laughing with Max’s friends as though she’d known them for years instead of a few hours. Both couples had taken a taxi here, so no one had to worry about drinking a little too much and then having to drive home. The wine - Jordan had also brought over a couple of bottles, along with some champagne - flowed freely, and everyone ate heartily of the delicious food. Jill was relieved to realize that Max had been quite right - no one seemed to care or even notice that her whimsical assortment of dinner plates were mismatched, or that the wine glasses were a variety of shapes and sizes. The seating arrangements had taken care of themselves as well, with Jordan and Aubrey sitting at the breakfast bar, Jill and Max at the small dining table, Delilah on the sofa, and Finn sitting on the floor by her feet, his plate within easy reach on the coffee table.
Delilah rolled her eyes at her laidback fiancé. “He’s still a work in progress, I’m afraid,” she informed Jill. “Though his manners have improved a lot since we started dating. His wardrobe, too. I finally convinced him to throw out his last pair of ripped jeans.”
“I sort of thought they were still in style,” admitted Jill.
Delilah grinned, rumpling Finn’s hand affectionately. “Oh, they are. But the holes and tea
rs in Finn’s jeans weren’t a fashion statement but the result of being old and worn out. I still haven’t managed to talk him into getting rid of some old T-shirts, though.”
“And you never will,” declared Finn. “Baby, how many times have I told you? Those shirts aren’t old, they’re just vintage.”
Max arched a brow. “Except that most vintage clothing doesn’t sport food stains or torn necklines or a missing sleeve. Delilah’s right, Finn. There’s a fine line between vintage and junk.”
“And there’s a fine line between acting like a snob and a pain in the ass,” retorted Finn. “Jill, whatever you do, don’t let old Maxwell here try to dictate what you should and shouldn’t wear. Or eat. Or think. He’s a real control freak, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Jill shook her head, smiling at Max warmly. “He’s not like that with me. But if he ever was I wouldn’t think it’s because he’s trying to be controlling. It would only be because he cares about me.”
Max leaned over and kissed her, which resulted in all four of his friends whooping and whistling in reaction.
“Jill, you are definitely some sort of miracle worker,” observed Aubrey. “I never thought I’d see the day when Max would loosen up enough to kiss someone in front of all of us.”
“I concur with the part about Jill being a miracle worker,” agreed Jordan. “Especially since I have never seen Max anywhere near this happy in the twenty-two years I’ve known him.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Max happy even once during that time,” corrected Finn as he polished off a second heaping plateful of food. “I mean, not really happy, not like he meant it. So we all owe you big time, Jill, for making this guy actually smile for once. Though with a hot babe like you in his bed he’d have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to be smiling all the time.”
Jill’s cheeks flushed at Finn’s deliberate flirting, though Delilah only rolled her eyes and jabbed him in the ribs admonishingly. Jordan retrieved the bottle of champagne he’d left in the refrigerator and popped the cork. When everyone had a glass in their hand, he raised his own glass in a toast.
The One Real Regret Page 39