Page 13 of Written with Love

“You probably want to shower and start your day.” She glanced at her watch.

“Do you work today?” he asked when she stood up and gathered the plates.

“No.”

He followed her into the kitchen. “I can take care of those later,” he suggested.

“It’s okay. I made the mess, I’ll clean it before I head out.” She started to rinse the plates.

“If you…” He started but stopped, suddenly feeling stupid.

“What?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“If you hang out for a while, I’ll give you an official tour after I shower.”

She smiled. “Sounds good. I’ll finish these.”

He nodded and quickly disappeared down the hallway towards the main bedroom. The space was empty now, but the bathroom still held all his toiletry items for now.

He took a little longer showering than normal since he had to get the dried blood out of his hair. After pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and a sweater, he stepped out to find Juliette standing outside talking to Palmer.

Since he wanted to check on the crews working outside on his electric, he pulled on his darkest sunglasses and headed outside into the bright morning.

He greeted Palmer with a handshake as the man’s gaze zeroed in on his forehead. Since it wasn’t bleeding, he hadn’t put on another bandage.

“Juliette told me what happened. How are you holding up?” Palmer asked him.

“I’m better today. I guess I’ll leave the plumbing to you and your crew,” he joked.

“I’ll head inside and take a look at the sink,” Palmer said. He nodded to them as he turned and walked towards the front door.

“How about that tour?” he suggested. The air coming up the cliff side from the beach was chilly, and he realized he’d left his coat inside.

“Sure.” She wrapped her arm in his as they walked back.

Max pushed open the heavy front door and stepped aside to let Juliette in first. “Welcome, officially, to my home,” he said, sweeping his arm dramatically. “Where the floors are uneven, the walls have seen better days, and the furniture has staged a rebellion,” he joked. He enjoyed hearing her laughter.

Juliette stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the stacked furniture, the cracked tiles, and the faded walls like she hadn’t already been inside the night before and earlier. “It’s… definitely got character.”

He chuckled. “That’s a polite way of saying it needs a lot of work.”

She chuckled. “I was trying to be nice.”

He led her forward into the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon and sugar lingering in the air. The massive arched windows in the small dining area overlooked the water, the sun just beginning to set in the distance.

“This view is really incredible,” she murmured, stepping closer. “You get to wake up to this every day?”

“I do.” He leaned against the old wooden counter, watching her. “Makes up for the lack of cabinet doors and the fact that the stove is probably older than my grandfather.”

“And you need new plumbing under here,” Palmer added.

“It was always part of the plan,” he reminded the man.

“Right. For now,” he said, standing up and shutting the cabinet doors under his sink, “you only have cold water in here.”

“That will work.” Max sighed.

“I’ll head back outside so you can continue your tour,” Palmer said to Juliette.