Today I’m going to turn Max into my friend. It’s as simple as that.
No muss. No fuss. I have hundreds of male friends.
That’s exactly what I’ll do. Trying to make up for flipping out on him yesterday will probably help with that. Max and I are going to be great frien—
“Hey, Fiona.” Hope’s friendly voice pulls me out of my coffee-filled dream world.
Time to put my plan into effect. I twist around and see Max standing next to Hope in a cable-knit sweater that does nothing to hide all those massive muscles. But what should be illegal is that smile, with one side of his full lips tipped up to the side and his honey curls falling in his face.
Friend zone.
You need to get him into the friend zone, and everything will be just fine.
“Morning. You ready to see all that goes into putting in a weekly grocery order?”
Hope does a little jump of excitement. “So ready.”
I can’t ignore the smiling man any longer. “Morning, Max.”
“Morning, Fiona.” That smile spreads across his face.
Who is this happy before their third cup? Maybe he already had his third cup.
“Hope, go on in and get started.” Max directs. “Give Fiona a chance to finish her coffee.”
That was sexy…I mean, thoughtful. Very thoughtful.
“Will do, Dad. Do you want a cup too?”
“If I won’t be disturbing your break, Fiona?”
Just looking at you disturbs me. “Of course not.” I motion for him to take a seat at the picnic table.
He holds out a hand to help me take a seat.
Which is normally an easy thing because I wear jeans to work, but today was another soft dress day to avoid chafing my sore skin while covering every inch of it. Why did I have to do this to myself in the middle of winter? Life would have been so much easier with a flowy silk dress. I step up onto the seat and plop my butt down on the table without touching his hand, like it’s something I do every day, which, to be fair, is actually a common occurrence. We need to switch out these benches for chairs.
He climbs up next to me, close enough that we could touch if I slid my fingers over a few inches, but far enough away that he isn’t crowding me.
Though it still feels like he’s overly close.
“This seems like a nice place to enjoy a cup.”
“It’s the only quiet place at this time of year.” In the spring, it’s bustling with children eating breakfast outside.
“The chill in the air keeps the children inside.”
And why isn’t it keeping you there?
“You must have limitless patience to deal with all their problems. I only have Hope, and she makes me want to tear my hair out.”
I laugh. “Hardly. It’s easier because I don’t have them all the time. They come to work. Do their job. Then they’re Jules’ or Paisley’s problem.”
The back door opens, and Hope steps out. “I brought you a cup of coffee, Dad, and some biscotti to share.” She hands him the cup and sets the plate between us before heading back inside.
His coffee looks decidedly dark. Max drinks his coffee black. Why did he try my sweet one? Odd.
“You must still deal with their problems.”
