“Fine. A half day,” I concede.
“Sorry?”
“You can have half a day with me. Then I’m going into the office.”
His smile is mischievous. “Deal.”
He stands, rounding the small table, and stalks toward me with heat in his eyes.
“What are you doing?” I ask, leaning back in my chair.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he slides his arms beneath me and lifts me.
I squeal, smacking his chest. “Max! Where are you taking me?”
He keeps walking us down the hallway, totally unbothered. When he turns the corner toward my bedroom, I release a breathy laugh. “I’m not sleeping with you again. I’m too sore, my vagina will fall off.”
“Just relax,” he says. “I’m not trying to fuck you.”
I arch a disbelieving brow. “Then where are we going?”
“To shower,” he replies, pushing the bathroom door open with his foot and setting me on the floor.
Pulling the shower curtain open, he turns the tap, holding his hand under the spray to test the temperature.
“Max,” I warn, crossing my arms. “We both know the moment we’re naked in the same room, it’s game over.”
“I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he says, turning to me. He unties my bathrobe slowly, pushing it off my shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the way he’s seen my body so many times now, yet his breathstillhitches when he takes in my naked form.
He makes me feel beautiful.
True to his word, he doesn’t touch me. We just silently wash each other.
There’s no groping. No grinding or wandering hands. No cocky grin or filthy words. Just us and our soft, careful movements. He lathers shampoo between his palms and massages my scalp, gently working through any tangles in my hair. When he’s done, I return the gesture, running my fingers through his dark strands.
When we rinse each other clean, he holds my waist, and we kiss. Over and over again. It’s unhurried and patient, without desperation. We simply take our time, relishing in the feel of each other.
It’s only when the water turns cold that I realize I’m not waiting for the morning to end.
Not this time.
I’m wishing it went longer.
Chapter Fifty-One
Max
It’s Monday morning and I step toward Lance’s kiosk. Gemma will have already swung past for her breakfast, so I know I’m not at risk of bumping into her here.
What I’m about to do has been brewing since our dinner last Thursday. The launch party is this Friday, so I’m aware my time to secure this opportunity is running out.
Lance crosses his arms, nodding at me. “I’ve already sold a latte and an apricot Danish this morning, son.”
I smirk. “Then make mine double strength.”
“Aye, anything else?” he asks, already reaching for a cup.
“Yes, actually,” I say, leaning in. “Have you ever considered moving your business to a new location?”
