Damn it all. The wonderful sensation she’d had floating through her after the phone conversation dissipated like weak bubbles.
She packed up her things. She already knew the afternoon was going to be a write-off and continuing to work was out of the question.
All her concerns piled up, jumbled together into a mess. Plotting about enjoying sex, her ongoing fears that she wasn’t loveable, her guilt that by getting involved with Max she was cheating him out of experiencing love—because she didn’t love him. Couldn’t. It just wasn’t…
Screw it. No way would she let her mind go there.
It was one thing to reason out her sexual game plan, another to completely to convince herself. If she could put aside her lingering concerns that having fun sexually with Maxwell was wrong, they might be able to get somewhere.
Somewhere in the next forty-eight hours she was determined to find a way to make this situation between her and Max move on to its logical conclusion. Because as enjoyable as the phone sex had been at the time, it wasn’t what they needed to be doing.
She wasn’t sure if she should be laughing or crying as she headed home.
It was four in the afternoon by the time Max completed his arrangements. He took one final look around the room before racing to his car and calling Tasha.
“You ready?” he asked.
There was laughter in her voice. “You survived! How nice to hear from you. I wasn’t sure if I would need to find a new phone number for you or what.”
“Damn phone is toast. Yes, I have a new one.”
“Expensive phone call. Sorry about that.”
He turned toward her apartment, on the lookout for potholes, nail strips—anything that might ruin tonight’s planned activities. “It was worth every penny. I felt bad that I left you hanging.”
“Oh, I took care of business myself.”
Oh God, the images that rushed to his mind. His tongue slipped a few times before he could respond. “Was it good?”
“Adequate.”
Shit. “I’ll try to do better next time.” As far as he was concerned, her orgasms were his responsibility from now on. Starting tonight. “Be ready in ten minutes. I’ll be at your door. Leave your phone behind, and I’ll do the same. The world will not fall apart if people can’t find us for a few hours.”
“Max? Where are we going?”
“Hey, people keep interrupting us, so I’ve decided the less anyone knows about what we’re doing the better chance of success we have, right?”
“Good with me. I’ll grab my purse and meet you downstairs.”
Max disconnected the headset and tried to calm down. Damn, he was sitting in the car and his heart raced like he’d run the entire distance to her place. He pulled up to the curb and waited, deliberately not fidgeting with his fingers on the steering wheel.
Surely he had enough control to at least pretend to act like he was a grown-up.
Of course, that meant he got even more of a kick out of it when she snuck across the yard and into the car like a secret agent, pulling off her sunglasses with a flourish and removing a big floppy hat.
She gave him the biggest grin. “You telling me what we’re doing yet?”
“Nope, but put this in the glove box for me.” He handed over his new cell phone and when she laughed, he had to join in. He made sure to drive carefully—all he needed was his uncle, who was one of the local cops, to pull him over. It would undoubtedly start an entire Turner clan chain reaction he desperately needed to avoid.
When he pulled into the driveway at the construction site of her new home, she shook her head. “I still don’t see the possibilities. Although I do have a few good memories of the place already.”
“Me yelling at you?”
She laughed. “That ranks high on the list, trust me.” She waited for him to come and open her door. “I know they’ve got the walls up, I was here two days ago, but there’s nothing else. I guess we’re picnicking on the floor.”
Max nodded. “Would that be so bad? As long as we don’t get interrupted?”
The expression on Tasha’s face made the effort he’d gone through to get this ready worth all the sweat, and every penny. “I’ll sit on the floor happily if we can have some time alone.”
He unlocked the front door, opened it and gestured her in ahead of him.
Her gasp of surprise was music to his ears.
“Max, what in the hell?”
She went immediately to the table and chairs that sat in what would be the dining room. He’d bought the set he’d seen circled in the open catalog on the coffee table that night he’d tucked her drunken body into bed. Strange side effect of his eclectic memory—even in the midst of his sexual haze he’d noticed the advertisement and hoped it would be something to please her. Tasha ran one hand over the dark-brown iron chair backs, admiring the plush cushions, and when she twisted back toward him, a huge grin covered her face. “You goof. Lawn furniture inside the house?”
“It’s as red-neck as I could get on short notice.”
She laughed. “I don’t know that we need the sun umbrella up, but it looks great. And the food? When did you have time to do this?”
He’d set the table, including candles and flowers. The bread was on the table already, the rest of the meal in the picnic cooler to the side. “Magic.”
Then he pulled out a chair, and she smiled sweetly, kissing his cheek lightly before letting him seat her.
The sex between them might be a given, but he wanted to seduce her into so much more than insert tab A into slot B. In his mind, this wasn’t about her getting pregnant; it was about becoming a family, and every chance he got, he was going to lay the foundation for that. Whatever reservations she had, he was confident enough for them both.
He lit the candles and reached for the food. Memory making, beginning now.
Chapter Nine
The wine was crisp, the pasta perfect. He’d gone out of his way and everything on the table was delicious, but it was the man at her side who commanded her attention. Tasha leaned back in her chair and examined him closely, his eyes and face animated as he shared an anecdote about one of the Turner camping trips. It was somewhere between an adventure camp and a horror story, and it wasn’t so much the information he shared that made her smile, but the way he shared it.
Wholeheartedly. With all-out enthusiasm. Delight and love for his family shining through in every word. The thought of him turning that same energy on their own child thrilled her to death.
The man himself wasn’t bad either.
The dark tinge in his hair hid most of the red highlights except when the candlelight danced over them. In his sister, the red color of the family was more noticeable. In Max, it gave a distinguished air to his neat trim, a bit of an extra shine that made her think of regal kings sitting in state on their thrones.
His biceps pressed the fabric of his dark button-down shirt taut, stretched over shoulders wide and strong. For a guy who filled his days with computer programming, she wasn’t sure where he’d found the muscles.
“Are you working out?” she asked.
He took a sip of wine. “I wondered where you’d gone. You thinking about my body, are you?”
Tasha felt a blush race up her cheeks, but there was no denying it. Her earlier decision sprang to mind—this was allowed to be fun as well as a means to an end. She deliberately eyed him, daring to let her attraction show. “There’s a lot to be admired.”
Max reached for her fingers, linking their hands together. She thrilled at the sensual tingle that raced over her skin. “I do weights and I’ve been running. I also play tennis with my cousins and uncles when I have time.”