Page 9 of Max Bannon

I figured she’d had enough questions, so I changed the subject. “Let’s finish eating. I’m just glad to know we’ve got a brain surgeon living up here. I bump my head on things more than I’d like to admit.”

“That’s fine,” Tessa said, smirking. “Just don’t do it too often or it’ll turn mush.”

That got everyone laughing again. The tension broke like a cracked egg, and the table buzzed with casual chatter.

“Junior told me you hunted alligators with your dad,” Jack said.

“Yep. We lived in the bayou until I left for college. After that, my parents moved to Los Angeles, since I was only thirteen and legally had to have them with me.”

After dinner, most of the guys scattered—some out to the porch the others went home. Tessa and I were in the kitchen cleaning up, or rather—I was cleaning, and she was pretending to help by drying one spoon every five minutes.

“You know,” I said, rinsing off a plate, “your dish-drying skills are subpar for someone who studied at the most prestigious hospital in the country.”

She narrowed her eyes at me over the edge of the towel. “Brain surgery? No problem. Folding fitted sheets or drying forks? That’s where I draw the line.”

I laughed. “You’re a strange little human.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Max, you have a goat in your house,” Jack called from the other room.

We both walked into the room as the goat jumped up on my antique side table. I walked over and picked him up off the table. “I told you to stay outside. You don’t live here.” I carried him out and set him down.

I turned to Tessa. “Do you like goats?”

“I like all animals. I’ve always had animals. My dog is with my brother right now. His name is Jesus.”

“You named your dog Jesus?”

“Yes, he saved my life. My brother gave him to me when he was a baby, and I had to talk to him. I think Jake knew that, and that’s why he gave him to me. So I named him Jesus.”

“It sounds like a perfect name for him. What kind of dog is he?”

“He’s a Bullmastiff. He’s beautiful. I have to have a Zoom call with him twice a day because he misses me. Jake said he sits around crying all the time.”

“What does your brother do?”

“He’s an architect. Jake builds skyscrapers. And he designs homes. He designed my home in California.”

I turned when I heard a loud noise. Before we knew it, the goat charged and hit Max, who wasn’t expecting it. He went down, and I laughed. Until the goat turned and took off after me. I ran screaming.

I saw Max lunge for him and miss. He landed in the dust. Fraiser shouted for the goat to stop, and the goat stopped. Fraiser picked him up and handed him to a little boy who stood there with a leash.

“I told you to stay in the yard.”

I was still laughing when Max stood up. “That was fun,” I said. Max rolled his eyes, and chuckled.

6

Tessa

Iclosed the door and turned around to find Max leaning in the hallway holding two mugs. “Peace offering,” he said, holding one out. “Chamomile tea. Don’t judge me. It was this or a protein shake.”

I took the mug and inhaled. “Are you trying to seduce me with sleepy herbs and goat chaos?”

“Is it working?”

That smile. The crooked, post-goat-chase, I-survived-you kind of smile. I was insomuch trouble.

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