Page 75 of The Perils of Pretending
“Christmas was a lot like yours. Because dad’s family wasn’t around, we spent a lot of time with the Hayes. My dad always bought us kids Valentine’s gifts and had pizza delivered while he and my mom went out to dinner. Easter was an egg hunt at Grandma Sue’s followed by ham and funeral potatoes.”
“Funeral potatoes are the best.” Max rubs his stomach.
“They are amazing. If I had the ingredients on hand, I'd make us some right now.”
“Do you like to cook?”
“I don’t mind. I prefer going out, but that gets expensive so I only do it on the weekends. What about you?”
Max groans.
“What?” It’s an easy question.
“I’m about to share one of my flaws with you.”
I laugh. Never in a million years did I think Max would admit to having a flaw. “You can’t cook?”
“I never said I couldn’t. It’s just that my skills aren’t that great in the kitchen.”
I smile triumphantly. There’s one whole thing I’m better at than Max. And it’s nice to hear he’s human and not completely full of himself. Just ninety-nine percent. That one percent makes me giddy. “So, you’re not a robot?”
“Definitely not a robot.”
“You feel things like people do?”
“I do.”
I pinch his thigh. Max jerks his leg.
“Ow. What was that for?”
“You felt that?”
“Yeah, I did. Your fingers are like little lobster pincers.” He mimics pinching with his thumb and pointer finger.
I turn toward him, gliding my fingertips up his sleeve. Flutters tumble in my belly. “Do you feel this?” I whisper.
His eyes narrow as he studies me. There’s a question lingering in his eyes. One that asks what I’m doing. “Yes…”
My brain shuts off. I stupidly let my attraction and desire for Max override all common sense. I don’t think about the fact that we’re not in a real relationship. That he’s someone I can’t commit to. That I’m blurring the line between us. That I told myself to never do this again.
I climb onto his lap, putting my lips by his ear, I breathe out. “And this?”
Max swallows hard. His hands grip my hips. He nods.
I kiss the indent below his ear. Max sucks in a breath. “Here?”
“Yes,” he moans.
My lower belly quivers and tingles. Heat floods my body. I cup his cheeks between my palms, staring into his gorgeous brown eyes.
“Your hands are cold,” he complains.
“I don’t feel cold.” Slowly, I close my eyes and lean into his lips. Our mouths barely brush together at first. I’m taking my time this go-around, gathering every piece of evidence I can to make sure kissing Max is as glorious as it was the first time.
My heart thumps wildly in my chest.
Max leans forward, his mouth pressing against mine, lingering. His lips part. I move mine in harmony with his. I can’t believe I get to kiss this man. My protector and comedian.
