Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
As Ripley embarks on her Ted Talk, Max flashes me a look that says, “help me,” so I flash him a look in return that says, “You made your own bed, dumbass. Time to lie in it.” As Ripley proselytizes, we continue exchanging several more looks and smiles, until, ultimately, by the end of Ripley’s sermon, we’re both holding back laughter.
When Ripley takes a breath, and there’s a natural opening for me to cut her off, I say, “All of that is right, peanut. Great job. Now, let’s let Max shower while we do our bedtime routine, okay? Now, tell Max goodnight and thank him for taking care of you today.”
Ripley heads over to Max and hugs him. “Goodnight, Maxy. Tank you. I love you.”
Max looks at me helplessly. But when I shrug, as if to say, “I can’t help you,” he pats Ripley’s back and says, “Goodnight, Ripley. You’re welcome. I had lots of fun with you today.”
I guide her away and toss over my shoulder to Max, “My dad’s bedroom is the one at the end of hallway. I’ll set some nail polish remover on his dresser for you.”
“Thanks.”
I wink. “Meet you back here whenever you’re done, Maxy. Open some wine for us if you’re here first.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I say to Max when I walk into the living room and find him sitting on the couch with two glasses of wine. He’s freshly showered, the same as me. But since Max didn’t have to put an excited, chatty daughter to bed in addition to washing up, he’s the first to return to our designated meeting place.
“No problem at all. I was just sitting here, sipping my wine and enjoying the blessed silence.”
I laugh. “I’m sure you were. You’re a saint. She had a blast with you today. Thank you again.”
“I had a surprising amount of fun with her, too.” He grins. “Most of the time. When my brain wasn’t short-circuiting at the onslaught of words coming out of her mouth.”
As I laugh, Max rises and hands me a wine glass, which I clink with his before heading into the kitchen alongside him.
“Can I help with anything?” Max offers, and unlike last night, I accept his offer and give him a job—chopping veggies for a salad. While he gets to work at the counter, I head to the stovetop to boil some water for pasta and gently warm the batch of lamb ragu I’ve brought home for us to feast on.
As we work, Max asks me to walk him through my calamitous day, so I do. Luckily, now that I’m on the other side of it and catastrophe has been soundly averted, thanks to Max, I’m able to laugh my way through my storytelling. To my delight, Max belly laughs along with me, the same way he did when I told him funny stories during our long and delicious night together, all those months ago. I’d forgotten how attractive Max is when he laughs without holding back. When he’s fully relaxed, like he is now, and his brow is smooth and not furrowed in the slightest and his blue eyes are twinkling. In this state of being, he’s absolutely irresistible.
“All done here,” Max says, motioning to the chopped veggies in front of him.
“Excellent work. You’re hired.”
Max whoops in celebration, making me chuckle.
“I’m almost done here, too,” I say. I direct him to sit at the table while I finish up and plate everything, and he takes a seat, but not before refilling our wine glasses. A few minutes later, I set down two plates and take a seat next to him at the table. “Bon appetit.”
Max looks down at the meal I’ve served him in awe. “Fake Max is a lucky bastard. No wonder he put a ring on it. Damn.” He looks up and flashes me a beaming, glorious smile that takes my breath away. “Thank you so much.”
Butterflies are ravaging my belly, but I manage to calmly reply, “You’re very welcome. I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me today.”
Max looks back down. “What am I about to eat here?”
I list off the menu, and when Max says he’s duly impressed, I reply, “Cooking is my passion. I absolutely love doing it.”
“Please, share your passion with me, any time.”
My nerve endings jolt to life. I don’t think Max meant anything sexual by that comment, but it’s nonetheless making me remember the way he passionately impaled me against the wall with his cock mere days ago.
Max’s blue eyes flicker with heat. I’m not sure if he’s reacting to my body language, or suddenly seeing a similar movie inside his own head, but something’s definitely come over him. In fact, the air between us is suddenly charged.
It takes a moment, but Max finally breaks eye contact and takes a bite, at which point he showers me with compliments.