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“It’s the genetics,” I whisper to him. He pulls me toward him, gripping my hip like I’m a trophy.
A statuesque blond woman stands behind Max. Her skin is flawless. Her teeth are straight and blinding white. She wears a floral sundress effortlessly. She stands an inch or so taller than Max in her wedges, and I feel silly in my cheap Vegas dress.
“Olive, I want you to meet Noelle,” Max says, presenting her.
Olive shapeshifts to her shyness as Noelle crouches down so she’s eye-level with her.
“Max has told me so much about you. I’m Noelle. Max is my boyfriend.”
Noelle gives me a glare, and the blood drains from my face.
Doesn’t she know I can’t compete with her? I’m just a small-town girl he got pregnant and then dismissed. He can start a new family with her; he can have the big wedding at a winery, and she can bear his tow-headed children that they slather in sunscreen when he takes them to a beach in San Diego. There’s no way he could want me when he has her.
Olive runs back to me and circles her arms around my waist, and I drop my hand from Burke. Burke walks to Max and shakes his hand.
“Burke Whitmore, pleasure to meet you.” The handshake looks tight.
“Max Sawyer. It’s a pleasure to meet you too. This is my girlfriend, Noelle.”
Noelle gives Burke the weakest handshake I’ve ever seen and then slides her arm around Max’s waist. Burke retreats back to me and does the same thing to my waist.
“Well, I could use a drink,” Burke says, walking into the kitchen. I look back to see Max leading Noelle by the small of the back. A deep ache settles into my gut as I watch him lovingly touch her. There was a time I longed for those touches.
Maybe I still do.
Max looks so handsome in a white polo shirt tucked into slacks, his hair combed in a side part. When he catches me looking at him, the corner of his mouth lifts in a mischievous smirk. I wish I wasn’t attracted to him anymore. It would make everything so much easier. If I wasn’t, maybe I wouldn’t squirm when my boyfriend tried to touch me in front of him.
Walking to the corner where I keep the liquor, I feel someone behind me. I swallow, because I would feel his presence anywhere.
“Is this okay?” Max asks, so close that if I back up, our bodies would press together. “She just showed up. I didn’t ask her to come…”
Turning around, I plaster on a smile and say, “It’s no problem. If she’s in your life, I want to meet her. Olive should meet her.”
“I know, but…” He leans in, and my heart thuds in my chest. “It just doesn’t feel right.”
I peer over his shoulder to see Noelle and Olive giving coy glances back and forth. “I have white, red, and some of my family’s beer. What would you like?” I shout-ask, so loud Max backs up and I can finally take a deep breath.
“I have red open. Baby, you look like you need a top off,” Burke offers, stepping next to me, letting his hand brush my hip. No butterflies, no nothing. He pours me some more and I wish I was falling in love with him. It makes so much sense.
What doesn’t make sense is that Max stands inches from me with no contact, and my whole body comes alive.
Max shoves his hands into his pockets. “I would love to try your family’s beer. Which would you suggest?”
“What kind of beer do you like?”
“Max doesn’t like beer,” Noelle says with a chuckle. Max stares at her, and mutters something to himself. Noelle’s eyes bug. “What?”
“Mom, can I have a root beer?” Olive asks.
“Sure, honey. Give it to Burke to open.”
Olive opens the refrigerator and turns. “Max, do you like root beer? It’s so much better than real beer. Gross.”
Max flicks his eyebrow to me.
“Her family owns a brewery, okay.” My cheeks flush. “She may have sipped a very strong IPA by accident once. I think it did some good.”
My lovely boyfriend quickly changes the subject. “Max, do you want a root beer?”
