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Yes, but that was before…well, before.
“I wasn’t sure if I was going to go this month.”
This time, he didn’t try to hide his exasperation. “No. We made plans to attend.”
From the set of his jaw, there would be no arguing with him. “Max, be reasonable. We can’t go to the dinner together.”
Now, he was watching her with the patient look that made her want to smack him. She knew it meant he was puzzle solving again.
“But we go every month. Or most months.” He waved the idea away. “It would look odd if we both showed up and didn’t sit together.”
She couldn’t argue with that. “Still, you know everyone has found out that you and Cynthia have called it quits.”
“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle, then took her coffee cup. He sipped, making a face. “Why do you put all that crap in it?”
“Crap? Creamer and sugar are crap?” She grabbed her cup back. “Get your own damn coffee.”
“But then I would have to get up, and I’m too comfortable.”
The smile he offered her had a mix of innocent boy and wicked man. It struck a chord in her heart…her soul. A lump rose in her throat and she swallowed.
“Can we get back to the subject at hand?”
“And that would be…”
“Dinner,” she said from between clenched teeth.
“Oh. What about it? I heard they’re planning on the regular rubber chicken—”
“Max! I’m not talking about the dinner itself. I couldn’t care less what they are serving us.”
“Then why do you complain each month?” Max asked, his tone filled with amusement. She opened her mouth to blast him, but he stopped her by leaning forward and trailing his finger along her jaw. “Don’t worry, Anna.”
She wanted to tell him to shut the hell up, but the tender touch had her pulse scrambling and her mind going blank. Just as simple as that, the argument evaporated. She knew he still didn’t understand, but she loathed to argue and watch the warm look drain from his gaze.
“Okay.” She rose from her chair and took his hand. “How would you like to have a cup of coffee prepared by the owner of the premier coffeehouse in town?”
He stood, curling his fingers into her hand, and followed her into the living room. “I’d like it much better if I could have that coffee after making love to her.”
The deepening of his voice vibrated down her spine. She sent him a slow smile as she looked over her shoulder at him, tightening her fingers against his. “Anything to please a customer.”
* * *
“Areyou sure you want to drive my car?” Anna asked, giving him a confused look as he took the keys from her limp fingers.
“Yes. What guy wouldn’t?”
She glanced at him, then shook her head and walked to the passenger side door. For a moment he watched her, enjoying the sway of her hips beneath the smart business suit. Anna didn’t always dress so conservatively. Well, if you could call a lipstick red suit that hugged every curve, and the thigh-highs he’d watched her don, conservative. But for some reason, she’d decided to drag out a suit she reserved for weddings.
He knew part of it had to do with her line of questioning earlier. Like going to a dinner would make anyone think they were sleeping together. Hell, if anything, the fact that their cars had been parked out in front of each other’s houses over the past week all night long would be what tipped them off. Granted, he’d been busy at work dealing with contract negotiations that he hadn’t paid much attention to what people were saying, or any looks he’d gotten.
He slid behind the wheel of her car and sighed.
“Oh, good lord, don’t date my car, just drive it.”
Her amused exasperation had him grinning. “Sorry, but there is no way I can just drive this lady. And please, don’t call her anit.”
She laughed as he started the engine. The sound of it was lost when the stereo blasted an ABBA song.
