by Anne Conley
“I miss your grandma. She was an awesome lady.”
“Yeah, me too. But don’t try to change the subject. You’d better make up with Claire. I like her.”
“I know. Me too.” Max ushered Summer out the door, because he had something he wanted to do before he could go see Claire.
A couple of hours later, Max had finished his project and was wrapping it up, before taking it next door. He wanted Claire, that much was true, but he wanted her to want him. There was something holding her back, though, and he needed to get to the bottom of it. He had tried the whole ‘starting over’ thing, and that had seemed to bomb, so he was going to try something different.
When she answered the door, Claire was wearing the tee shirt he had apparently left over there last night. He looked at it pointedly, as she ushered him inside.
“It’s complicated.” She replied wryly. He laughed, and handed her the package. Claire looked at him, “My first present from my new complication. I’m so excited!” She looked excited, too. Max relished the gleam in her eyes, as she turned the box all around, shaking it and squeezing it. “It’s so big…”
Max chuckled, and refrained from the double entendre that she had left herself wide open for. “Open it.”
She carefully unwrapped the box, and using a pocketknife from her pocket, slit the tape Max had wrapped the box in. When she pulled out the shelf, she gasped.
“Oh, Max! Did you make this?”
“Yeah. I did. Do you like it?” It was a knick-knack shelf, he had made from some scraps of wood. “I didn’t stain it or anything, I just put it together this morning. I didn’t take the time to finish the outside. I wasn’t sure what the décor would be when you finish the house, so I didn’t want to presume anything.”
“You made this today? It’s not even noon, yet.”
“Yeah, well, I got up early. Didn’t sleep well last night.” He shrugged, trying to affect a manner of nonchalance, even though she was the reason he didn’t sleep.
“Me neither.” The way she said those two words gave Max a little hope. Maybe she was just as twisted up about him as he was about her.
“Um, I’m sorry about last night.” He gestured to the shelf. “This is a sort of apology gift.”
“What are you sorry about?” She looked at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
He shuffled his feet, looking down at them. “Um…the bar, mostly.”
“Mostly?” She was grinning now.
“What’s so funny?” He was so confused. She was sending him signals that were so mixed, he wasn’t sure how to take her.
“You’re uncomfortable talking about this. I guess I’m a little masochistic, but it’s fun to watch. You’re cute when you’re being all awkward and stuff.”
He expelled a long breath. “Okay, I’m sorry for finger fucking you in a bar. And I’m sorry for almost fucking you here, and then stopping.” Claire was laughing full on at him, now, and as much as Max enjoyed hearing her laughter, he was a little pissed it was at his expense.
He continued, “The real reason I came over here this morning was to ask you out tonight. Do you have plans?”
Her laughter stopped, and she looked at him squarely. “Like, a date?”
“Yeah, like a date. I figured maybe we could get to know each other a little bit.”
“Before we fuck?”
“Shit, Claire. Are you trying to make me more uncomfortable?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. I am.” She walked closer to him. “I would like to go out on a date with you. Where are we going?”
“So you don’t think I’m an arrogant, egotistical, sexist asshole anymore?”
“I didn’t say that.” She held up the shelf. “Thanks for the present.”
“Okay, I guess. You’re welcome. I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something comfortable, okay?”
“Alright, Max. I’ll see you then.”
He bent down, and kissed her gently on the lips, tasting her sweetness, and wanting to linger, but not wanting to push his luck.
Chapter 7:
That gave Claire exactly seven and a half hours to get nervous. Deciding she needed something to occupy her time, she went to the home improvement store to rent a floor sander. Since they would charge her by the day for it, and she wouldn’t really be able to get her money’s worth out of it that day, she had them deliver it the next. Checking her watch, she realized she now had six and a half hours left to get nervous before her date. The butterflies were already starting.
Claire could just kick herself for accepting Max’s invitation. Why in the world would she possibly want to go out with him? She didn’t like him. Sure, he was pretty, but he was a total ass. She remembered the kiss they had shared last night, and felt a flush crawl up her cheeks. He was a superb kisser. Maybe if she could just make it through dinner, they could fuck like bunnies later.
What was she saying? She couldn’t sit through dinner with the guy. She’d practically done a strip tease for him last night, an hour before he had fingered her to a mind-blowing orgasm at the bar.
Groaning aloud, she managed to find a can of paint to start painting a bathroom. Her heart wasn’t really in it anymore, but she had to keep busy or she would obsess about the impending date.
While she painted, Claire reflected on her past attempts at romance, and wondered if Max could possibly turn out any differently. She had met Tom through a co-worker, and he’d seemed okay at first, but there had been no spark. She’d ended that one when she found out he’d been cheating on her.
Before Tom, she had gone out with Mark. Mark had been a musician, and jobless, and homeless. Claire allowed him to move in with her, and he tried to suck her dry, both financially and emotionally. He had moved out and ended the relationship, when he found a rich benefactor to shack up with. Claire had been surprised to find out the benefactor was a man, and Mark had suddenly turned gay.
Before Mark had been David, who Claire had met at a bar. Charming and handsome, David had wined and dined Claire for months. After he had made a particularly racist comment, Claire discovered he had initially asked her out because she looked like she had ‘good genes’ and would make a superb mate for David to propagate a superior race.
Claire just had rotten luck picking men, and she was sure Max was no different. He would end up being some kind of cheater, or a parasite, or just a complete weirdo. She was sure of it.
Well, what’s done is done, she thought to herself. She would go out with him tonight, and figure out a way back to her private life. She had enough on her plate, without trying to figure out what was wrong with Max.
Finally, seven o’clock came, and Claire was waiting on the porch, wearing jeans, boots, and a black Henley. He had said to be comfortable, and even though it was September in Texas, it was getting cooler in the evenings, and she really had no idea what Max had planned.
She heard a roar come from next door, and she saw an enormous dually pick-up truck sidle up to the curb in front of her house. The passenger window rolled down, and Claire saw Max’s grin. She started walking across the yard to the truck, as Max walked around to her side and opened the door for her.
“Thank you.” She said.
“You’re welcome. You look nice. I didn’t realize we were going to be twinkies.”
That was when Claire noticed they had on the same outfit, almost identical. He also wore boots, although his were brown, where hers were black, and his were more worn. His faded jeans hugged his thighs nicely, and his Henley was a bit tighter than hers, showing off a rippling chest, that Claire had glimpsed last night in her lusty haze.
She looked up at him in mortification. “Let me run in and change real quick. I won’t be a minute.”
Her stomach flip-flopped as his arm blocked her. “No. I like it. It looks like we belong to each other.” Shutting the door, he effectively put an end to her argument.
Inside his truck, Claire let his manly, earthy scent overwhelm her. As he walked around the
hood of the truck, Claire took the moment to admire the way he walked. He was really tall, and wide, and he moved with the grace and fluidity of a panther. She had seen panthers in zoos, and they were pretty powerful creatures. She imagined they rarely lost any prey that was in their sites. As Max folded himself into the driver’s seat of the truck, she stifled a shiver of anticipation. He looked at her, questions in his eyes.
“You okay?”
Claire swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. “Um…Yeah.”
“You ready?”
“Yeah. Where are we going?”
“To the park. You like fried chicken?”
“Love it.”
“Great. I’ve got a bucket in the back seat. We’re going to watch a movie in the park. When’s the last time you saw ‘Casablanca’?”
She brightened considerably. “Are you kidding? ‘I remember every detail. The Germans wore grey, you wore blue.’ I love that movie.” She saw the surprise in his eyes when she did her spot-on Bogart impersonation, and laughed. Okay, he may be an ass, but maybe she could manage to have a decent time.
When they got to the park, Claire saw there was a huge screen set up at the base of a small hill, and people had set up blankets and picnics on the hill to watch the movie. Two large speakers flanked the screen.
Max pulled a blanket, a cooler, and two grocery bags out of the back seat of his truck, and led Claire to a spot on the hill that had a great view, but wasn’t right next to a bunch of people.
He looked at Claire, “Is this okay?” She nodded, and he set down the food and cooler, then started spreading the blanket. Once he had served them both, Max broke the silence.
“So, what are you going to do here, in the thriving metropolitan area of Serendipity, Texas?”
“I’m going to fix up my house and open a bed and breakfast.”
He raised an eyebrow, and quirked a corner of his mouth. “Really? That was my plan for the house.”
“I know.” Just hearing him say it, and the proprietary tone she heard in his voice caused her blood to heat. Her body tensed, ready for him to say something about how he could do a better job than she could.
“Don’t get all prickly at me again. I just think it’s ironic, don’t you?”
“What’s ironic?”
“That I’ve had my eye on that house for years with that in mind, and haven’t been able to get it, then you swoop in with the same plans.” He expelled a breath. “I guess I’ll have to fall in love with a different idea.”
“Why my house? What’s so special about it?” Claire wondered if he knew about the gold supposedly hidden there. She felt sure he did, and that was his real reason for wanting the house. Suspicion flared within her.
He leaned back on one elbow on the blanket, a drumstick in his hand. “I’m really not sure. I used to go inside with my friends in high school and party in there, and I’ve just always seen myself living there, raising a family, hosting guests. It’s always been that house. I can’t explain it. I’ve just always felt pulled to it, but your uncle wouldn’t even consider selling it to me.”
Claire tried not to stare at his form, lounging so contentedly next to her, as she huffed. “Well, I’m glad he didn’t sell it to you. I love the house.”
“In retrospect, I am, too.”
Curious, she asked, “Why?”
“Because if he’d sold it to me, I wouldn’t have met you, would I?” His gaze was intent on her, those caramelly eyes focused on her face, making her uncomfortable. “Anyways, I’ve tabled the notion. I’ve made it this long without my bed and breakfast, and I seem to be doing okay.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I guess I could put off the idea for a while longer, until something else comes up. I’ve just got to wrap my brain around the idea of it not being in that house.”
The movie started, and Claire focused her attention on the screen. Inside her head though, she couldn’t think about anything except the man next to her. As attracted to him as she was, she couldn’t bring herself to trust him, or herself. Honestly, she had no idea what had come over her the times before when she had done completely inappropriate things with him. There was just something about him, that dissolved her inhibitions, and she didn’t like that one bit.
“So you know about the gold that’s supposed to be hidden there?” Perfect example of her inhibitions flying out the window. Why else would she say something like that to Max?
He gave her a knowing smile, flashing his even, white teeth in a way that sent a warm rush of heat through her body. “Sugar, everybody in town has heard that rumor.” He sat up to rummage around the bucket of chicken for another piece. “Is that why you’re here? To get rich off of the gold?”
She wondered why she had even asked. She wondered more why she was fixing to tell him what she said next. “Well, Uncle Eddie always talked about it. He let all of us cousins pick which property we wanted, and I’ll admit, that’s why I wanted this one. It was either this one or the beach house in Galveston, but I can’t really afford the insurance on the beach house…”
“This is a nicer town than Galveston.”
“Yeah, it seems so.” Desperate to change the subject, she asked, “What is there to do around here?”
His face lit up, as he started talking about the town. “Well, there’s the Gin. We like to have festivals and such for just about any reason. There’s an annual Dulcimer Festival, Hot Pepper Festival, Dogwood Festival, Christmas festivals, festivals for fundraising, anniversary festivals, you name it, there’s a festival for it. Then there are the movies in the park every month, the community theater puts on about four shows a year, and there’s always a kickin’ party for those. The downtown area is pretty fun sometimes, and anything you want to get involved in has parties and events.” He lowered his voice conspiratorally. “And Serendipity has the highest ratio of people per church in the state. We have every denomination of spiritual enlightenment you could possibly be looking for. Except possibly some of the Eastern ones. Apparently, we’re not that broad-minded.” His voice became more normal, as he enquired, “What are your interests?”
He had turned so he was facing her, while he said all of this, and Claire was taken with his sudden excitement as he talked about his town. She thought a minute.
“Hmm…I like old things, antiques, and old houses mostly. I like to fix stuff up, though I’m not really very good at it, yet. I would like to restore old furniture, after I get the B and B going. Nothing major, just fixing joints and refinishing. That’s about all I can master, I think.”
“So, how were you going to go about restoring the house?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you just admitted you’re not very good at it. Were you going to hire it all done?”
“Not unless I found the gold…I don’t really have any money. I was just going to see what I could get done by myself.”
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “So, you are counting on finding gold that has been hidden for years, if it even exists, that no one’s been able to find yet?”
She blushed. “When you put it like that it sounds stupid, but Uncle Eddie found it once, and re-hid it. He said he’d made sure no one could find it until he was ready for them to.” Kicking herself, she wondered why she had told him that. Why was she opening up to him?
He leaned back on his elbows again, studying her. “But he never told you where it was?”
“No. He liked games. But I must admit, I’m a little over this one.”
“No hints?” His eyes filled with disbelief.
“No. All he said was it was hidden well.” She sighed in frustration. For all she knew, this guy was pumping her for information so that he could find it himself. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure, what do you want to talk about?”
“You. What do you like to do for fun?”
His gaze on her softened, “I’m a homebody. I like to hang out in my back yard. I’ve got a hammock, and an outdoor e
ating area. I like to grill stuff, and invite the neighbors over for dinner to show off my grill mastery.”
“Has Summer been over?” She had to admit, she was curious to know if those two had a romantic history. She sort of liked this guy, but she liked Summer too. She didn’t know either one of them very well, but she didn’t want to get in between some weird lover’s thing with them.
“Yeah. She’s been over a lot. Her grandmother used to come over, too, when she was living.”
“So, you and Summer have been…friends for a while?” She was fishing for information because she couldn’t bring herself to just come out and ask.
He laughed, and she gathered he’d figured out what she was trying to ask.
“Yeah, me and Summer have been friends. Almost since kindergarten. If you’re curious about if there’s ever been anything more, then let me just say that Summer’s interests don’t run towards men. She’s got a girlfriend in Dallas, that comes in to visit occasionally.”
Claire breathed a sigh of relief, then realized she’d been a little too obvious, because Max’s smile widened.
“Are you asking because you’re interested?”
Trying to play innocent, Claire widened her eyes, batting her lashes, “Interested in what?”
Max leaned closer to Claire, and whispered in her ear, “In me.” His breath tickled, sending a shiver racing through her blood stream.
She pushed him back. “No way.”
Looking amused, he said, “So, all this…” waving his hand towards the picnic and the park, “Is a wasted effort on my part?”
“I would say so, yes.”
“Then why did you agree to come?”
Suddenly uncomfortable, she searched for the right words. “I--I was being neighborly.”
“What about the peep-show last night?” His voice had gotten husky, and reminded her again of bourbon, deep, warm, rough. “Was that just being neighborly?”
Claire felt herself blush again, and cursed her fair complexion for it. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“How about the first time we met? When you sucked on my…”