“You were going to be alone with that woman if we hadn’t shown up.” Since I can’t deny that, I press my lips together. “You should have called me.”
“You’re right,” I give in, not wanting to argue with him in front of his parents and sister.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he bites out, the muscle in his cheek jumping, and I glare at him in return, which only seems to annoy him more.
“I told Kai that I loved this house the moment we pulled into the driveway,” Myla says, breaking into the stare-down between her son and me, and I drag my eyes off him to focus on where she is looking into the front living room.
“And I reminded her that we don’t golf, so buying a house on a golf course wouldn’t make much sense.” Kai shakes his head at his wife, and she turns her head just enough to look at him over her shoulder.
“We can learn. It’s supposed to be relaxing.”
“I’m not golfing,” he states firmly, and she frowns at him.
“Don’t worry; I’ll go golfing with you, Mom.” Melanie moves away from her dad to stand next to her. “Besides, there’s always a lot of cute guys out on the golf course near my house when I drive by, so maybe it’s the same here.”
“Neither you nor your mom are going golfing…” Kai pauses, then adds, “Ever.” I turn to hide my smile and head for the kitchen, flipping on the light there.
“So,” Melanie starts, following right behind me, “I don’t want to step on your toes if you’ve already made plans for Maxim’s birthday, but I was thinking since Mom and Dad are here that we could all have dinner together.”
“When is his birthday?” I ask, my mind swirling, wondering what I can possibly get for the guy who has everything.
“Tomorrow,” she says, and I feel my eyes widen. “I’m going to guess by that look that he never told you.” She goes to the pantry, opening the door to look inside.
“He didn’t even mention it was coming up.”
“Of course he didn’t.” She rolls her eyes when she turns to face me, and I shake my head.
“What are you two talking about?” Maxim asks, coming into the kitchen, and I turn on him.
“That tomorrow is your birthday.” I raise a brow, and he narrows his eyes on his sister, who just shrugs in response.
“Are you talking about Maxim’s birthday?” Myla asks, and after Melanie nods, her eyes come to me. “He’s never liked celebrating it. The most he’s ever let me do is make him a cake.” She tips her head back to look at her husband. “He’s just like his dad in that way.”
“So I shouldn’t plan on having people at the restaurant sing him ‘Happy Birthday to You’ as payback for not telling me?”
“I think you should totally do that.” Myla laughs, and Kai chuckles.
“I’d personally pay to see that.” Melanie grins at me, and I smirk back, then look up at my guy when he gets close, shivering when he places his lips next to my ear.
“Do it, and I’m taking it out on your ass.”
“Don’t threaten me, sir,” I whisper back, then turn to meet his gaze and hold his stare, the emotions I see shining back at me making my heart beat a little funny. Not with aggravation or frustration, but with something that is deeper, richer, sweeter. Love. If I’m not wrong, this complicated, sometimes aggravating, and amazing man loves me, and without even knowing it was happening, I fell in love with him too.
Holy shit.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving,” Melanie says, breaking into the moment, and Maxim lets out a frustrated sound while I turn to face his sister, who has the fridge open like it’s her house and she is going to prepare a meal with the contents.
“There is a really good Mexican place not far from here,” I tell the room, and Myla’s eyes light up.
“Do they have margaritas?” Melanie asks.
“They have the best margaritas.” I smile at her.
“I could use a margarita,” Melanie says, and Maxim groans, probably remembering our last dinner where tequila was involved, and Kai just shakes his head.
_______________
AN HOUR AND a half later, with my belly full of delicious food and my body warm from the margarita I drank with dinner, I sink into Maxim’s side. It’s been a good night catching up with his parents and sister, and as the air cools, the dimming light of the sun casts a warm glow across the table and our waiter gets closer carrying a slice of cake with a candle sticking out of it, I know it’s about to get better.
“You didn’t,” I hear Maxim grumble when the waitstaff around the room begins to sing for him at the top of their lungs, with a cute waitress coming over to place an oversized sombrero on his head.