The Summer Proposal

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The Summer Proposal Page 18

by Keeland, Vi


  “I have a better idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  He slid his hand down my body and dipped between my legs with a grin. “Let’s get you wet. But you can shower later.”

  CHAPTER 18

  * * *

  Georgia

  “Alright, that’s it. We’re leaving.” Maggie stood from the guest chair on the other side of my desk.

  My forehead wrinkled. “What? Where are we going?”

  “To get some answers.”

  I laughed. “What are you talking about, crazy lady?”

  “We’re going to that cute wine bar two blocks down, the one next to the questionable foot-massage place that only ever has men walk in and the massages are in private rooms.”

  “I still have work to do.”

  I’d been back in the office for four days but had barely dug out of the backlog of emails to answer, reports to review, and calls to return.

  “It will all be here tomorrow. I want to hear about your time with Max.”

  “I told you all about my time with Max on Monday morning. Remember, you were in my office waiting for me at six thirty in the morning with coffee you’d spiked with RumChata?”

  “Yes, but you told me what you wanted to talk about. Now I want to hear what you don’t want to talk about. And don’t even tell me there’s nothing else on your mind. Because you’re three for three on the Georgia scale of something’s bugging you. Your hair is up in a bun by nine AM. You only do that when you have a problem you can’t solve. You’re checking the time on your phone like you’re waiting for someone to flip the switch on the electric chair, and you have that upward inflection when speaking.”

  “What upward inflection?”

  “At the end of every sentence you raise your voice like you’re asking a question, when you’re not.”

  “There’s no way that I do that?” I covered my mouth. “Oh my God, I just did it.”

  Maggie laughed. “You only do those things when you have a problem you can’t solve.”

  “Maybe I have a work problem that’s bothering me.”

  Maggie folded her arms across her chest. “Okay. What is it?”

  “I, uh…” Drawing a complete blank, I shook my head, pulled open my desk drawer, and yanked out my purse. “Fine. But we can’t overdo it. I’ll have to get in extra early tomorrow to make up for all the things I should be doing now.”

  Maggie grinned. “Of course.”

  • • •

  “I wasn’t supposed to grow feelings for Max. He was only supposed to be my distraction.” Hiccup.

  Maggie smirked. “I knew you were lying when I asked you on Monday if you were falling for him. You oversold the ‘Nah, we’re just having a good time.’ If you had debated my question for thirty-six hours and then answered, I might’ve believed it.”

  “But I love Gabriel. I’d decided to marry him.”

  “You can love someone but not be in love with them. I love you, but I don’t want to wake up to you every morning.”

  “That’s different.”

  She shrugged. “Not really. You want to know what I think?”

  I pouted. “No.”

  “That’s a shame. Because you’re going to hear it anyway. I think you spend so much time analyzing every decision that you’ve forgotten to listen to your heart. Things in your life have changed—and those changes were started by Gabriel. Let’s not forget that.”

  I dropped my head into my hands. “I’m so confused. And Max is moving at the end of the summer.”

  “So? He’s a professional athlete. He’s probably on the road for most of the hockey season anyway. He has to live near his team to practice and go to work, but why couldn’t he be bicoastal and spend the offseason here, if things worked out? You have a shop in Long Beach, California. You could work out of that, if you wanted, at least for some of the season. You’re self-employed, Georgia. Hell, you could move the entire damn operation to wherever he is.”

  “You’re making my head spin.”

  Maggie smiled. “I’m not saying you need to do any of those things. I just mean that him leaving doesn’t have to mean the end.”

  “But that’s what we agreed to.”

  “And Aaron agreed to love me forever and not covet thy neighbor.” She shrugged. “Shit changes.”

  “I don’t even know if Max would want more.”

  “He hasn’t given you any indication that he might be interested in something longer than a summer fling?”

  “Well…on the last morning of our mini vacation, he asked me if I thought things between me and Gabriel would’ve worked out long distance, if he hadn’t broken things off before he left. For some reason, I thought he might be asking because he was moving to California. But that could just have been wishful thinking.”

  “Hmmm…” Maggie sipped her wine. “I bet he was. With men, our first instinct is usually right. I know that’s hard for someone like you to believe, because you analyze problems from fifty different angles, but usually our intuition sees things right in front of us pretty clearly.”

  “Even if I was right, and somehow we were able to work it out and try the long distance thing. What about Gabriel?”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s going to come home in six months. What if he comes home and says he wants to be together, that his time away made him realize what he really wants in life?”

  “What about what you really want in life? Let me ask you something. Tomorrow morning, you wake up and find out you won the lottery. You grab your cell phone and you call…who? Who are you calling? I mean, after me, of course.”

  “I don’t play the lotto.”

  Maggie shook her head. “Work with me here. Pretend you played the lotto. Close your eyes for a minute.”

  I took a deep breath before shutting them.

  “Okay… You climb out of bed. You flick on the news while you’re getting ready, and you hear the anchorman say there was only one winning ticket for the billion-dollar lottery—the largest in history. And it was purchased at the same store you purchased yours. Then he reads the numbers: five, fourteen, one, thirty-one, three, twenty-five. You run and get your ticket to double check, but you know those are the numbers you played because it’s my birthday, your birthday, and your mom’s birthday. Your hand is shaking while you confirm you’re the winner. You grab your cell phone and you call…”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to imagine the entire thing. I could see exactly what she’d described—the TV on, running to my purse to fish out my ticket, even grabbing my cell phone to call someone. But…then I stare down at my phone. I’m not sure who to call first.

  I opened my eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t know who I’d call!”

  “Welp, that’s what you need to figure out. You know what we need to help us do that?”

  “A pros and cons list?”

  Maggie guzzled the last of her wine. “Nope. More wine. I’ll be right back.” She pointed to my glass, which was still half full. “Finish that before I return.”

  While she was at the bar, my phone started to jump around on the table. I picked it up and smiled seeing Max’s name. Since Maggie was talking to the cute bartender who hadn’t yet filled our glasses, I figured I had a few minutes. So I swiped to answer.

  “Hey.”

  “What’s up, beautiful? You know what I was thinking about earlier?”

  “What?” I sipped my wine.

  “Eating you out while you’re sitting at your desk.”

  I inhaled sharply. Unfortunately, I hadn’t swallowed the wine all the way yet, so it went down the wrong pipe. I started to cough.

  “Are you okay?”

  I patted my chest and spoke with a strained voice. “No! You made me choke on my wine.”

  “I wish I was there to make you choke on something else.”

  I felt my cheeks heat, and it had nothing to do with swallowing down the wrong pipe. “Someone is in a mood today.”

 
“I can’t help it. I had that meeting with the general manager. He was running a few minutes late, so they showed me into his office. He had this big desk with all these awards hanging on the walls and stuff. It just looked like the office of a guy who was in charge. That got me thinking what you might look like sitting behind your desk—all powerful and sexy. It makes me want to make you beg.”

  “Let me get this straight. You envision me being powerful, and that turns you on and makes you want to…make me beg?”

  I obviously couldn’t see him, but I heard his smile in just two words. “Fuck yeah.”

  I laughed. “You’re bad.”

  “Why don’t you go lock the door to your office and let me tell you the things I want to do to you while you slip your hand down into those lacy panties I know you have on.”

  Damn, I kind of wished I were still at the office now. “Tempting…but no can do. I’m not at the office.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At a bar a few blocks away with Maggie. She’s trying to get me drunk.”

  “Nice. I’m glad you left the office at a decent hour tonight.”

  “I still have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Well, get it done. Because once I’m back, I’ll come carry your ass out if you’re working too late. You promised me a summer, and I’m not taking just weekends.”

  I smiled. “I’ll try.”

  “Alright. I’ll let you go so you can enjoy your time with your friend.”

  “You’re flying home tomorrow, right?”

  “Shit—no. That’s what I called for. You made me forget by telling me you wanted me to eat you while you sat at your desk.”

  I laughed. “I did not say that.”

  “I heard it in your voice. But anyway, I called to tell you my dinner with the owner was rescheduled to Saturday night. His daughter had a baby a few weeks early, so he flew out to wherever she lives. He’s coming back Saturday, so I had to change my flight to Sunday. I have to cancel our plans for Saturday. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Unless you want to get your ass on a plane after work tomorrow. There’s a desk in my suite. I can make due.”

  “Tempting. But I really can’t.”

  Maggie returned, carrying two glasses of wine and a phone number scribbled on a napkin. I shook my head, pointed to the phone, and mouthed Max.

  He was quiet for a bit. “I miss waking up to you.”

  My heart squeezed. “I miss waking up to you, too.”

  “There’s a simple way we could both be out of our misery…”

  I smiled. “I know. I just have too much to catch up on at work to jump on a flight tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Okay. But if you change your mind, let me know. I’ll get you a ticket.”

  “Thanks, Max.”

  “Have a good night. Stay safe.”

  “You, too.”

  I pulled the phone away from my ear to swipe, and Maggie grabbed it from my hand.

  “Max? Are you still there? It’s Maggie.” She grinned at me. “Oh, hey. Listen, buy the ticket. I’ll get her ass on that plane.”

  “Give me that phone,” I said.

  She leaned back, as if that would keep me from reaching.

  “That’s a good idea. Thanks, Max.” She wiggled her fingers at the phone even though he obviously couldn’t see her. “Toodle-oo.”

  Maggie swiped to end the call and held my phone against her chest, looking all dreamy-eyed. “He told you he missed waking up to you. You have to go.”

  I shook my head. “I wish I could, but I can’t. I have so much to do at the office.”

  “Let me ask you something… Is this man as sweet as he seems from the little I’ve been around him?”

  I sighed. “He really is. Under that tough-guy, hockey-player-who-hits-people-with-a-stick exterior is a real softie.”

  “And how’s the sex?”

  I smiled just thinking about it. “He checks that sweetness at the bedroom door. And when he kisses me, he wraps his big hand around my throat. It’s very dominant and probably should scare me a little, but I kind of love it.”

  “How long is he gone?”

  “He was supposed to come back tomorrow afternoon. But something came up, and now he won’t be back until Sunday.”

  My phone chimed from Maggie’s hand. She held it out to check the screen and then looked to the two glasses of wine in front of me on the table. “You better finish that wine and get started on the next one.”

  My brows furrowed. “Why?”

  She turned my phone around and showed me the screen. “Because Max just sent you a ticket. I need to get you drunk enough to talk you into getting on the plane tomorrow afternoon.”

  • • •

  “I’m going to jump in the shower,” Max said to my reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Breakfast should be here in a few minutes.”

  I set the blow dryer down. “Okay. I’m done. The bathroom is all yours.”

  He flashed his dimples and pulled down his boxer briefs. “Or you can stay and watch.” He kissed my shoulder. “Better yet, join me.”

  Just then, someone knocked on the door to the suite.

  “Looks like it’s a shower for one.” I grinned.

  Max pouted.

  Back in the bedroom, I grabbed my purse to dig out a tip before answering. But the only thing I had was a hundred-dollar bill. So I popped my head back into the bathroom.

  “Hey. Do you have any small bills for a tip? I only have a hundred.”

  Max was already in the shower. “Yeah, I should. I think my wallet might still be in my pants pocket. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks.”

  I looked around the bedroom to find his pants, but they weren’t there. Then I remembered they were probably still right near the door—where he’d pulled them down as he held me against the wall about two seconds after I arrived last night. I smiled at the memory as I picked them up and found his wallet. He had a ten, so I slipped it out and answered the door.

  Room service wheeled in a cart, and I chuckled at the full-size box of Cheerios and big, glass carafe of milk. I handed the attendant the tip and walked him to the door.

  Just before it shut, he turned back. “Miss?”

  “Yes?”

  He held out a business card. “This was inside the bill you just gave me.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” I took the card. “Thank you.”

  Back in the room, I went to return the card to Max’s wallet. As I slipped it in, I couldn’t help but notice the words printed on the top: Cedars Sinai Neurology & Neurosurgery. There was an address underneath, and a handwritten date and time on the appointment line for two days ago. Rather than put it back in his wallet, I left it on the room service tray so I wouldn’t forget to ask him about it.

  Then Maggie called, and just as Max got out of the shower, his phone rang. So it wasn’t until we were half done with breakfast that I noticed it again.

  I lifted the card. “This was tucked into the bill I took out of your wallet to give the room service person. I didn’t notice it, but the guy handed it back to me as he was leaving.”

  Max looked down at the card and then up at me. He said nothing.

  “Did you go to a neurologist the other day?” I asked.

  He took the card and shoved it into his pocket. “Yeah. Just a checkup.”

  “A checkup? I’ve never been to a neurologist.”

  Max shoveled a heaping spoonful of Cheerios into his mouth and shrugged.

  “Is there a reason you get checked?”

  I don’t think I’d ever realized Max usually made good eye contact when he spoke—until now, when he avoided making any at all. He pushed the Cheerios in his bowl around with his spoon. “I get migraines. So I get checked once in a while.”

  “Oh. You never mentioned migraines.”

  He shrugged again. “Guess it never came up.”

  “Your doctor is out here, in California?” My forehead wrinkled. “S
o you come all the way out here to get your checkups?”

  “He’s a good doctor.”

  Something seemed odd about this exchange... “Did everything at your appointment go okay this time?”

  “Yep. You want his number to check for yourself?”

  I shook my head. “Sorry. I’m being nosy.”

  “Not a problem.” His phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up and read. “You have anything you want to do today?”

  I shrugged. “Not really.”

  “Would you want to go check out some houses with me?”

  “Houses?”

  “Yeah. The team operations manager hooked me up with a real estate agent, and she asked if I wanted to see a few houses this afternoon.”

  “Oh…I didn’t realize you’d planned to buy a place.”

  “I hadn’t. But my finance guy has been pushing me to invest in property for the last year. He says it’s the right time to buy. I figured it couldn’t hurt to get an idea of what you get for your money in different areas. I agreed to it before I knew you were coming, so if you aren’t up for it, it’s no big deal. I can cancel.”

  “No, that’s fine. It sounds like fun.”

  “Alright. I’ll tell her to give us an hour.”

  • • •

  “What’s going on with you?” Max came up behind me as I stared out at downtown Los Angeles from the third-floor-bedroom balcony of one of the houses we were looking at. He put one hand on either side of me on the railing.

  “What do you mean?”

  He pushed my hair to the side and gently kissed my neck. “You’re being too quiet.”

  “I guess I’m just taking it all in.” It was the fourth house we’d visited this afternoon, each nicer than the last. Though with the price tags the real estate agent had mentioned, they definitely should’ve been. I turned around to face Max. He made no attempt to back up, keeping me locked between his thick arms. “These places are beautiful, but a little overwhelming, I guess.”

  “Yeah.”

  Each of the places we’d visited had at least four bedrooms. But the overall living space was just so wide open and grand. “Why is she taking you to see such large homes? Is that what you asked to see?”

 

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