Page 32 of Dr. Bad Boy

BJ: I’m always good. You’re the loose cannon. Try not to cockblock yourself.

Always a serious risk with Violet.

Not that I could be thinking about my cock and her in the same breath. We were so far from fucking again that it hurt to think about how sweet her mouth was, how well she took my orders and how good her ass looked—

“Max?” She glances over at me, a bag of pears in her hand. “Can you take these?”

I stick my phone in my back pocket and take the fruit.

We need to talk, of course. But first I need to show her that I’m not a threat to her job. That first and foremost, I could be a friend.

I can help her pick out pomegranates, for example.

I hold up one of the bright red fruits and she shrugs. “Too much work to get the seeds out.”

Well, now I know we need to get a couple. I pay the vendor and put them in the basket. “What’s next?”

Violet rolls her eyes. “I don’t know. Clearly you’re in charge.”

I can’t hold back the grin. “Exactly. I think we need some bread.”

“What are you doing?”

“Deciding what food we need?”

“We?”

I shrug. Sounds good to me.

She hesitates, then points to a bakery at the end of the aisle. “That place is good.”

“Do you like sandwiches?”

She nibbles on her lower lip as we walk side-by-side.

“It’s not that complicated a question,” I say dryly.

“You’re so arrogant.” She says like a casual observation, and I can’t fault her for that—it’s true, I am. But she really doesn’t know the half of it.

“Usually more so.”

“I’m getting the softer, gentler side of Max Donovan?”

“Something like that.”

She sighs. “Yes, I like sandwiches. I also like a neat, orderly dating life that doesn’t threaten my job.”

“Noted on both counts.” I can make her a sandwich that makes up for a lot of irritation.

But the dating thing…

It’s not like that was my goal. For my entire adult life, that’s actually been my anti-goal.

The fact that we’re at a farmer’s market together for the second week in a row means nothing.

Dating would be…

Shit.

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