Page 55 of Forget me Knot
Fuck.
Instead of launching it at my head, Lily sets the teapot down gently.
“Yes, that’s me,” she replies coolly, wiping her hands on her shorts. “And you are Max Hamilton.”
I nod, feeling like an idiot. “Look, I’m sorry about the other day. I didn’t mean to come off as... well, as a prick. The flower delivery threw me, and your scent was off. It was confusing.” I start sweating as her eyes bore into mine.
“Off?” she squeaks and gives her armpit a sneaky sniff as she turns away from me.
It is the single most adorable thing I have ever born witness to.
“I mean, it wasn’t yours,” I murmur, moving closer.
“Oh,” she mumbles and turns back around. “Yes, well.” Her face is flushed, and she has absolutely no idea where to go next. I know that because she looks how I feel. “So, what now?” she asks softly.
“Maybe we can start over,” I suggest, holding out my hand. “Hi, I’m Max. Nice to meet you properly this time.”
She hesitates for a moment before taking my hand, her touch sending a jolt through me that nearly makes my knees buckle. “Lily,” she responds softly. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
For a moment we just stand there, hands clasped, lost in each other’s eyes.
Chapter 27
Lily
The moment Max’s hand touches mine, it’s like a bolt of lightning shoots through me. His skin is warm, and his grip is firm but not overwhelming. I find myself staring into his deep blue eyes, unable to look away.
“Nice to meet you too,” I manage to say, my voice sounding far away.
We stand there for what feels like an eternity, hands clasped, just looking at each other.
I’m the first to break the silence, clearing my throat awkwardly.
“So,” I start, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. “Fancy a cuppa?”
Max’s lips twitch into a smile, and he nods. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
As I turn to the counter to fetch another mug, I can feel his eyes on me, and it sends a tingle over my skin. A really good tingle that somehow ends up between my legs. Trying to act normal around someone your body suddenly responds to like fireworks is going to be harder than I thought.
I pour the tea and hand him a mug. Our fingers brush again, and that spark flares up. I almost drop the mug but manage tosteady it just in time. Max catches my eye and smiles. Slowly and deliberately, and it’s sexy as fuck. Now that he isn’t glaring at me over a bouquet of surprise roses, I can see how attractive he is.
The roses remind me of the admirer, which makes me feel bad—but only for a second before he says, “Thanks.”
The rest of the world just fades away.
“No problem,” I reply, trying to focus on anything other than his rugged good looks and the way his shirt clings to his chest. God, this alpha is distracting.
We stand in awkward silence for a moment, sipping our tea. Finally, Max breaks the quiet.
“So, about the other day,” he begins.
I hold up a hand to stop him. “It’s water under the bridge. Let’s not dwell on it.”
He looks relieved, but still a bit unsure. “No, I wanted to ask you who the flowers were from.”
“Oh, uhm, I have no idea. It was an anonymous letter, and they paid in cash.”
“Oh?” he inquires with a frown. “That’s a little odd.”
