He couldn't have known because I didn't even know I was staying for dinner.
“And if it helps at all, this was a last-minute thing, me being here. On my menu tonight was frozen meatballs. Grant insisted I come over. There was no way Ellie could have known
either.”
Great. Now I feel worse. I’ve caused a big scene over nothing.
“I'm sorry. You must think I'm some psychotic, crazy person,” I groan, covering my hands with my face.
“Not at all,” he chuckles. “You're much more entertaining than most of the women I know.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but I can't help smiling, even though I'm not sure that was a compliment.
“Dinner is ready,” Ellie calls out.
We all move in to the dining room and by chance I find myself sitting next to Max. The more time that passes the more relaxed I feel, to the point where I'm actually enjoying myself. As much as I don't want to give Ellie the satisfaction of witnessing how much I like Max’s company, I can't help it. He’s a funny guy and he makes me laugh.
God, I’m so confused.
After dinner, Tilly and Cassie return to playing, but not before Tilly begs me to let her stay over. I agree, so long as Ellie agrees, since it will be her getting up early to take her to school.
“Of course you can,” Ellie grins, pinching Tilly’s cheek. “You're always welcome here.” I smile, yet another reason why I love Ellie. She loves that kid as much as I do.
We all move back into the dining room as the girls run off to Cassie's bedroom to play. I find myself sitting next to Max again. He sits in the seat casually, with one leg pushed under the other. His hands are resting on his thighs and I can’t drag my eyes away from them as I take in his long fingers and the well-defined muscles of his arms. I can just imagine those being wrapped around me as he uses those long fingers to tilt my chin up as his lips—
“Coffee?” Ellie offers, interrupting my thoughts.
I nod, my face heating up. Caffeine is exactly what I need right now. She gets up and leaves the room, tugging Grant along with her. I groan and bury my head in my hands. Does she ever let up?
“What is it?” Max asks, amused.
“You really didn’t catch that less-than-subtle yank at Grant’s shirt to let him know they needed to leave us alone?” I ask dryly.
“Honestly, no. I’m pretty sure guys don’t give shit like that enough thought.” He chuckles. “Maybe she just needed help.”
“To make a couple of coffees? Trust me, I know my sister.”
“So, how’s Tilly doing? Hasn’t beaten anyone to a pulp yet?” he asks, his voice light.
“You tell me. Though this Jimmy kid seems to have gotten the message not to mess with my kid.” I grin and he laughs.
“Yeah, I’ve been dealing with Jimmy’s mother all week. She wanted me to take stronger action against Tilly to ensure this type of thing doesn’t happen again.”
“Seriously?” I gasp. “Maybe she should have a word to her son about not picking on a little girl whose father is not well.”
“I’m sorry about your fiancé. Grant told me a little bit about what happened. I hope that was okay.”
I shrug. “He wouldn’t have said anything you couldn’t have found out yourself in the newspapers.”
“Three years is a long time, but I bet it feels like yesterday.”
“It does,” I say, surprised by his understanding. “Sometimes I catch myself going a day without thinking about him and I feel guilty about moving on.” I make a face. “And then I’m torn between my family thinking I’ve grieved enough for him, and his family, who thinks I should stand by him forever. It’s like they expect him to suddenly wake up one day.” I laugh, blinking back tears. “Their hope is what gets them out of bed every morning.”
“And you don’t have that hope?” he asks.
“Tilly is what keeps me going—nothing else,” I shrug. “How about we talk about something less tragic than my life?” I suggest with a smile.
“Sure,” he says, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Grant tells me you like art?”