The eggs, on the other hand…
“The olives are safe,” he said solemnly. “However, the eggs didn’t make it. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” she said, a little breathlessly. Max noted that she was still clutching the boxes from Sylvie’s bakery close to her chest, having apparently prioritized their safety.
A woman after my own heart,he thought, a little dreamily... before confusion took over.
Why am I thinking these thoughts about a woman I just met? This isn’t like me at all. Two minutes ago I was annoyed that my peace had been disturbed, and now I’m acting all lovesick? I don’t even know why she’s in my kitchen!
If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought that this was what his mom had been talking about when she said that every shifter had a mate – a person who was made just for them. That you justknewthey were your mate as soon as you touched them.
But no, it wasn’t the case at all in this instance. Because he’d been told that there was a physical feeling that accompanied the touch of your mate that was like a mild electrical buzz, and there had been none of that. And he almost certainly didn’t have a mate, given that he couldn’t shift, so there was no point in wondering about it, anyway.
Mate or not, he’d been pretty enamored of her even before they’d touched. Confused and surprised, yes, but definitely also intrigued. Who wouldn’t be, when a gorgeous woman entered the room, started stuttering adorably, grabbed an armful of food, and quotedCatch-22for no reason? She was fascinating, beautiful, and just a little nerdy – the perfect combination.
And then there was the fact that she was apparently completely immune to his powers. He’dtriedto make himself forgettable at first, in the hope that he could just slip out of the room without her really noticing him.
But she’d just kept on going with her nervous ramble, not even batting an eye at his attempts. It wasn’t even like with Kieran earlier, where he’d just seemed a bit confused upon meeting Max – the woman had just kept on keeping on, despite his attempts to make her forget him. If anything, it felt like she noticed himmore, rather than less. He’d never locked eyes with anyone like that in his life.
It was almost embarrassing on his part. His ability to make himself blend in with the furniture seemed to have taken a definite hit since he’d arrived in Girdwood Springs, which absolutely had not happened the last time he was here.
However, while it was worrying, it was also a little intriguing. It had been a long time since anything this interesting had happened in his life.
But in the meantime…
“I should… probably clean up those eggs before they get between the floorboards,” he said awkwardly.
And they say romance is dead! Bravo.
“What?” the woman said, her brow furrowing cutely, before comprehension dawned on her face. “Oh. Yes.” She juggled the boxes into her left hand, before sticking out her right. “I’m Poppy, by the way.”
Max went to shake her hand, before realizing that it wouldn’t be possible without dropping her. Poppy seemed to have the same realization, because her nose wrinkled in obvious embarrassment and frustration at herself.
Feeling oddly disturbed at her obvious distress, Max straightened up, easing her back onto her feet, before proffering his own hand.
“Max,” he said, and she shook his hand firmly. Her palm was a little sweaty, but he couldn’t say he blamed her, given everything.
They stared at each other some more, the handshake going on a little too long, until Max broke it off reluctantly and took a half step back.
He was feeling more than a little self-conscious. Given his loner tendencies, he didn’t tend to get half-naked in front of other people that often… and especially not whenother peopleequaledthe most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.He crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to make it too obvious that he was trying to cover up. All too late he noticed that he had ink stains on his fingers from his earlier writing spree.
If ever there was a situation in my life where I needed my powers to be working,he thought morosely… though if they were working, he supposed, then he wouldn’t be talking to Poppy. He thought that it was worth the embarrassment.
Mostly.
“Ah,” he said, a little lost for words. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this.” He untucked one arm briefly and gestured at the mess of food on the table, the open bottle of milk that he’d been drinking directly out of, the chicken drumstick – which had finally ended up on the table when he’d made his mad dash to catch Poppy before she hit the floor – and his general shirtless state.
“I’mnot,” Poppy murmured, apparently answering on autopilot, before she startled. “I mean… oh God, I’m sorry. Did you want to go… get dressed? I’d offer you my jacket, but I don’t think it would fit you.”
Max knew that some other guys in this situation would play it cool and lounge around shirtless for a bit, maybe put on a display, but he just wasn’t built that way. Besides, taking a minute away from the whole situation to regroup would probably do him a world of good.
“I think that’s a great idea,” he said. “I’ll be back in just a minute. Help yourself to the food.”
He hurried from the room before she could say anything else, slamming the door a bit too hard behind him.
Grabbing a t-shirt, he threw it on, examining himself critically in the mirror. The pajamas were a bit ridiculous and he regretted them intensely, but if he took them off now, it would be like admitting that he wasn’t confident enough to wear them in front of other people. Besides, they were really comfortable.
Leaning forward to check his face more closely, he noticed with a feeling of mild humiliation that he’d apparently had a piece of chicken stuck to his mouth this whole time.
