Falling for Max

by Shannon Stacey

  “What’s your grandmother’s name?”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “Grams.”

  “Funny.”

  “Caroline Dobson.”

  Tori waited for him to elaborate but, of course, he didn’t. His tendency to answer questions with only the information requested was probably why she hadn’t heard this story. She highly doubted Fran had ever said, “Hey, Max, you wouldn’t happen to be related to a woman named Caroline Dobson who used to live in Whitford, would you?”

  Before she could ask more questions, he set his empty mug on the table and leaned back against the cushions. “Smart, kind, patient and, of course, wants to be a mother.”

  “What?” She was lost.

  “My list of desirable qualities in a wife. That’s what we’re supposed to be talking about, right?”

  “You said it would be nice if she liked trains, but it’s not necessary, and I assume the same goes for sports. And it would be nice if she’s attractive, but also not necessary. You are not a picky man.”

  He shrugged. “We don’t have to enjoy the same things. And her looks are secondary to the traits I listed.”

  Tori sighed and shook her head. “Maybe I’ll pick up on some bad habit of yours or something when we go on our mock date but, right now, I can’t for the life of me figure out how you’re still single, Max.”

  His smile and the way his eyes crinkled would weaken any woman’s knees. “Hopefully not for long.”

  Chapter Five

  On Wednesday, Max got a call from Josh inviting him to join him and Drew at the diner for lunch.

  Josh had told him once they should grab some lunch together away from the televised sports, just to talk, but that had been back while he was trying to win a bet with Katie to see who could discover what went on in the basement first. Since Max wanted Katie to win, he’d taken her downstairs to show her his work space and Josh had run down after them, just in case the serial killer rumor was true. As far as Max knew, they hadn’t told anybody else. But before that, when Josh had suggested lunch, Max had told him he wasn’t very good at small talk and left it at that.

  Since then, he received invitations from his friends on a regular basis, but he almost always begged off, using work as the obvious excuse. He was most comfortable being one of the guys in his own home, with a game on the television to keep everybody entertained.

  But this phone call coincided with his plan to get out more, so at one o’clock, he walked into the Trailside Diner for the third time in a week. He looked around, saw Josh and Drew at a booth, but kept on looking.

  He didn’t see Tori. And when, a moment later, Liz Miller stepped out of the kitchen in a Trailside Diner tee with an apron on, he felt a pang of disappointment. It was probably good that Tori wasn’t working, since she probably had jobs backing up on her computer thanks to taking an evening off to spend with him, but he couldn’t deny he’d been hoping to see her.

  When he walked over to the table, it was Josh who moved over, so Max slid in across the table from Drew. The chief was in his police uniform, so was presumably on a late lunch break.

  “Hey, Max,” they both said almost at the same time.

  “I hope you weren’t waiting long.” They’d said about one o’clock and he wasn’t sure if that meant a few minutes before or a few minutes after, so he’d timed his arrival for exactly one.

  “Just got here.” Josh passed him a menu.

  Even though he already knew what he was going to order, Max read through the menu because the others were. And when Liz came through with their drink orders, he asked for coffee like the others. It felt a little strange, since he was used to cracking beers with these guys and yelling at refs on the television. Without the sports, this was weird.

  Liz returned with three mugs of coffee and, once she’d set them down, she took out her order pad. “What are you guys having today?”

  Max asked for a grilled cheese on wheat with fries, thankful it wasn’t a complicated order because Liz seemed more interested in exchanging smitten looks with her husband than what he wanted to eat. Josh went for a burger and Drew ordered a salad with grilled chicken. Obviously with a side of flirtation, Max thought. Drew winked at Liz and she blushed before walking away from the table.

  Josh made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat. “What’s with the googly eyes? You’ve been married awhile now. You should be over that by now.”

  Drew grinned, shrugging at the same time. “Can’t help it. I’m a happy man.”

  “I’m a happy man, too, but I don’t make googly eyes at Katie in public. You should... Oh.” Josh looked at his sister, who was refilling coffee mugs at the counter, and then back at her husband. “Is she? Are you?”

  Max was lost. He’d assumed Drew was referring to their presumably lively sex life as newlyweds, but Josh’s reaction seemed a little out of line for that. Despite Liz being his sister, Josh had to know she and Drew were making each other happy, so to speak.

  “We’re not supposed to be telling anybody yet.”

  When Josh leaned across the table, almost knocking over his coffee in the process, to slap Drew on the shoulder, Max got it. Liz was expecting a baby.

  “Congratulations,” Josh was saying. “I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad. I can’t believe my sister’s going to be a mom.”

  “Congratulations,” Max said.

  “Thanks. We’ve been trying for a while and...I can hardly believe it.”

  “Rose knows, right?” Josh held up both hands, as if fending something off. “Please tell me you told Rose first.”

  Drew laughed. “Rose and my dad know. Other than them, we didn’t want to tell anybody yet, but I guess we’re not very good at keeping secrets.”

  “Even I know you can’t keep secrets in Whitford,” Max said.

  Drew snorted. “I don’t know. You do a pretty good job.”

  “True.”

  Drew knew what Max did because he was the police chief and he’d shown a strong interest in what secretive and lucrative business one of his citizens was running from a basement. That wasn’t surprising, so Max had filled him in and headed off any unnecessary suspicion on the part of the Whitford Police Department.

  “When’s she due?” Josh asked.

  “Mid-May. I can’t even believe it’s finally happening.”

  Looking at the obvious joy on Drew’s face, Max felt a strong twinge of envy. He couldn’t wait to have children. Little ones he could share his life and his passions with. Toddlers with little wooden train sets running around the kitchen floor, even though they’d be tripped on, because it was the only room without carpeting. Following real tracks until they found a train coming through. They’d get out of the car and wave to the engineer as the lights flashed and, if his kids were lucky, they’d get to hear the whistle blow.

  Then there were sports to watch and books to read and favorite movies to share. He could teach them how to cook and how to organize their schoolwork for maximum efficiency.

  He felt like he’d be a great dad.

  The other two men talked babies for a few minutes, and Max kept a smile on his face when Josh flagged his sister down to offer hurried congratulations in a low voice. Somehow he’d imagined having lunch with “the guys” would have gone much differently.

  Max was glad when their food came because it gave him a reason not to say too much. The discussion moved from Liz’s pregnancy to work to the Northern Star ATV Club, which oversaw the four-wheeler trails that had helped revitalize Whitford’s economy.

  “We need to revamp the website,” Josh was saying. He was the club’s president and Drew’s dad was the trail administrator. “And get a real logo, not the clip art we’ve been using.”

  “That won’t be cheap,” Drew said.

  “I know, but it needs to be done. And once we get the logo, we can sell hats and sweatshirts and stuff. Maybe offset the cost a bit. I hate spending the money, though.”

  Max set down his coffee m
ug. “Have you thought about asking Tori for help?”

  “Tori?” Josh shook his head. “Can’t say that I have.”

  “She’s a graphic designer. Book covers mostly, but this kind of job would probably be easy for her.”

  “I knew she did something on the computer, but not what. I was hoping you, being an artist, could give us a hand, actually.”

  “Two different kinds of art, unfortunately. I’d gladly help if I could, but design is beyond me.”

  Drew shrugged. “It was worth a shot. But you think Tori would do it?”

  “I don’t know if she would do it, but I think she could do it.”

  “Since you know about her work, you and her must be friends, huh?”

  Max was pretty sure he could guess where Josh was going with that. “Yes, we’re friends.”

  “Maybe you could run the idea by her? See if she’d be willing to come up with a logo for us. And maybe one of those banner things for our website and Facebook page?”

  “I could give her a call.”

  “Appreciate it,” Josh said. “I know you don’t ride, but we’re glad to get whatever help we can.”

  “You should come out with us sometime,” Drew added.

  Max laughed. Meeting them at the diner for lunch was one thing. Riding an ATV through the woods was quite another. He could barely ride a bicycle. “Maybe. Someday.”

  As the conversation went back to trail conditions and increased ATV traffic with the upcoming Columbus Day weekend, Max thought about his promise to call Tori.

  He’d do that later, when he got home, and hopefully not disturb her while she was working. Or maybe he’d text her. He’d have to give some thought to how long the conversation would be before he figured out the best way to contact her.

  He’d prefer to call her, though. Texting seemed too impersonal for asking a favor and, besides that, he liked the sound of her voice.

  * * *

  When Tori’s phone chimed, she gave it a quick sideways glance. Phone calls she let go straight to voice mail, but she didn’t have the willpower to not peek at the preview on the lock screen.

  It was from Hailey. Books! Let me in.

  She grabbed her phone and typed in coming as she walked across the apartment. Two years ago, when she’d rented the apartment in the old brick building that housed the bank, they’d told her the buzzer system didn’t work, but that they’d get around to fixing it.

  She was still waiting. But it wasn’t that big a deal. Anybody who wanted to visit was somebody who already had her cell number, so whoever it was would simply text. It might have been a problem for deliveries, but nobody delivered in Whitford.

  Except for the library, apparently.

  After jogging down the stairs, she opened the glass door that was tucked into a recess at the other end of the building from the bank’s entrance.

  Hailey ducked inside, bringing a gust of autumn air with her. “I can’t believe how chilly it is tonight.”

  “You didn’t walk here from the library, did you?”

  She held up a tote bag. “With these? My car’s two spaces down.”

  Tori took the bag. “Are you coming up or do you have to get home?”

  “I’m coming up, but I’m not staying long. Matt called me a little while ago and he’s running late.”

  Once they were upstairs, Tori emptied the tote onto her kitchen table. Two new romances, a new horror, and an older horror title Hailey had ordered for her through interlibrary loan.

  “You have trouble with returning your books on time, so read the ILL book first because the fines are higher.”

  Tori smiled and put it on top of the stack. “Yes, ma’am. You’re so hot when you use that librarian tone. I bet Matt thinks so, too.”

  “I had my hair up in a bun the other day and shushed him and ended up naked on the living room floor.”

  Tori wouldn’t mind getting naked on the living room floor. Sadly, it had been a while since her last good tussle and, the way things were looking, it would be a while before she had somebody to be naked with.

  Hailey sat on the edge of the couch. “So how’s Operation—Makeover Max going?”

  “I had dinner at his house Monday night.”

  Hailey’s eyes narrowed. “Did you go in the basement?”

  “We had steak-and-mushroom kebobs that would blow your mind. He’s a wicked good cook.”

  Flopping back against the couch cushion, Hailey sighed. “You went in the basement and you’re not going to tell me what’s down there.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You tried to divert me with talk of food. If you hadn’t gone down there, you would have just said no.”

  “Unless I enjoy torturing you.”

  “Did you learn how to do that in Max’s basement?”

  Tori laughed. “You’re funny. But, seriously, the kebobs were amazing.”

  “I’m your best friend, remember?”

  “I seem to recall that you came in the diner, bummed out that all your friends were in love and, when I said I had no interest in falling in love, you decided we should be friends.”

  “And now we’re besties.” Hailey gave her a winning grin.

  “But now you’re in love and you’ll be getting married next summer. So by your own reasoning, shouldn’t I find a new best friend?”

  She frowned. “No. If you find a new best friend, you can’t be my maid of honor.”

  “Matt said your color scheme is camo.”

  “I’m ninety-five percent sure he wasn’t serious about that.”

  “Regardless, I promised Max I wouldn’t tell anybody what’s in the basement.”

  Hailey thought about that for a moment. “But you didn’t promise you wouldn’t tell anybody what’s not in the basement?”

  “Really? Do you think if he was killing people down there—and he was dumb enough to show me—that I wouldn’t have called Drew from my car as I was laying rubber to get the hell out of there?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of porn studio. Because that would pay better. I assume, anyway. When I help the high school kids research career choices and projected incomes online, I’ve never seen either of those endeavors listed.”

  “Imagine that.”

  “Fine. What can you tell me about Max Crawford?”

  “He’s a nice guy. Good cook. Has a comfortable couch.”

  Hailey’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? I’d like to hear more about that.”

  “About the comfortable couch? It’s a sectional. Leather that’s just right amount of beat up so it’s like butter. The corner is my favorite.”

  “And what did you do on the couch?”

  “I sat on it.”

  “Come on, Tori. Did you or did you not make out with Max?”

  She blew out a breath and shook her head. “I did not. I told you, I’m helping Max find a date. Ultimately, he wants to find a wife.”

  “You know...if you had a husband, then I wouldn’t have to feel guilty about making you be my friend and then falling for Matt.”

  And here it came. “I don’t want a husband. Marriage isn’t my thing.”

  “Because I’m your best friend—at least for now—it’s my job to tell you that swearing off marriage forever because your parents divorced is weird.”

  It went deeper than that. The most solid thing in her life had blown apart and turned her parents into two people who cared more about hurting each other than they did making sure she was okay. It was a betrayal of everything she’d believed about her life and she was not okay.

  “I don’t believe in happily ever after anymore” was all she said. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation and Hailey knew how she felt.

  “But what about Matt and me? You did a pretty good job of pushing me toward him for somebody who thinks we’re going to turn on each other someday.”

  How she’d gotten herself in this no-win conversation, Tori couldn’t remember, but she wanted to ki
ck herself. “It’s different for you two. You’re perfect for each other, and you’re both good people. Even if, God forbid, you did break up, you’d never use your kids as weapons against each other.”

  “If it can be different for me, it can be different for you.”

  Obviously there was some logic to Hailey’s statement, but Tori shied away from analyzing it too closely. If she thought about committing to a man and allowing him into her life and her heart, she felt almost physically ill. The thing about a couple being together for twenty-five years is that they knew the soft spots—where to hit to inflict the most emotional hurt.

  “I’m enjoying my life the way it is” was all she said, and it was the truth. “And I won’t find a new best friend just because you went and fell in love. I draw the line at wearing camo, though.”

  “Okay. How do you feel about blaze orange?”

  * * *

  After much deliberation, Max decided to contact Tori at six that evening. She was the one who’d suggested that time for their dinner, so he felt he could safely assume that would be the time least disruptive to her work. He was taking a chance on interrupting her dinner, but he’d get right to the point if that was the case. Sitting on the edge of the sofa, he pulled up her number and hit Call.

  “Hi, Max.”

  He liked cell phones. They removed that awkward need to announce one’s identity to avoid the embarrassment of being a minute or two into a conversation and hearing Who is this? “Hi, Tori. Am I interrupting you?”

  “Nope. I just finished eating, so I’m cleaning up before I go back to work for a few hours.”

  “You said you prefer texting, but phone calls for longer conversation. I don’t want to tell you how much time I spent going through how I thought our conversation might go to determine if it would constitute longer.”

  When she laughed, he leaned back against the sofa and got comfortable. It was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but when she laughed at him, it’s because she thought he was funny. There was nothing mocking or scornful about the sound.

  “There’s no mathematical formula,” she said. “Just don’t be offended if you go to voice mail. If I’m at the diner or working at my computer, I don’t usually answer phone calls, but I can’t seem to resist text messages. So what’s up?”