Chapter 19
Most people would probably help their dad with a picnic jam out of the goodness of their heart.
My heart must be a little less full of goodness, because my main motivation for saying yes when my dad had asked me to fill in for poor Bronwyn was the chance to spend the evening with Max.
Or, I should say, to spend the evening in the same place as Max.
I didn’t expect him to go out of his way to interact with me. I knew we couldn’t let on that there’d been anything between us beyond one date. But when he’d strode onto the beach with his little boy in his arms, the view had improved tenfold. Considering the scenery at the lake was normally beautiful in and of itself, that was saying a lot.
I’d done my best to act nonchalant when he’d brought Danny through the food line. Then I’d made a point of taking my own full plate to the opposite side of the party and sitting with Dorie Ludwig, who I’d graduated with, and her mom, Corinne. Both of them were natural redheads, bookish and super smart, and English teachers at the high school.
Dorie and I had never been particularly close, but she and her mom were easy to talk to and welcoming.
After eating, the three of us went over to the dessert table and grabbed mini slices of Cash Henry’s famous hummingbird cake. I couldn’t seem to help myself—as we stood in a trio and oohed and aahed over our glorious desserts, I allowed my eyes to skim in Max’s direction for the hundredth time. He was sitting next to Danny, bending over him as if his son had said something, and laughing. As he straightened, his hand on his little boy’s back, Max’s eyes met mine for an instant. It wasn’t the first time tonight, and I couldn’t help wondering if he was having the same problem I was of keeping my gaze to myself.
“You ladies look like you could use an adult beverage.” Ty, who was an incurable flirt, butted into our circle of three, rolling a cooler behind him. “Can I interest you in a bottle of hometown-proud Rusty Anchor beer?”
Dorie declined, but her mother chose a Beach Babe Pale Ale from his not-small selection. It was a classic Ty Bishop move that served as a way to flirt and interact with more people. That was just who he was.
“Harper,” he said, putting his arm around me, “it’s come to my attention that you’re in desperate need of a brewed beverage this evening. What can I get you?”
Laughing, I said, “Do I look that bad?”
“Au contraire, pretty lady. You look particularly stunning.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Thank you, kind sir,” I said, playing along.
“You’re too much, Ty,” Corinne said.
She wasn’t wrong, but I took a Sandbar Wheat, let him open it, then thanked him.
“Anytime, darlin’.” He gave me a side hug, leaning close to my ear and saying so no one else could hear, “You’re the hottest girl here, for real.”
With a smile, because Ty really was harmless, I said, “You’re the flirtiest.” I raised my brows to convey that wasn’t necessarily a desirable claim to fame. Dorie and Corinne had welcomed Francesca Gibbons, another English teacher, into the group and listened raptly as she explained why she was so late.
“That’s what you do to me, Harper,” Ty said in a low, more serious voice. The others paid no attention to us.
It was all an act, I knew. Ty could throw out meaningless lines faster than a professional fisherman. He’d hit on me plenty in the past, but he knew not to cross a line, with me or anyone else. That was just Ty.
“You know you’d have better luck with girls if you didn’t try so hard, right?” I teased.
“That’s a myth,” he said emphatically. “Ladies love me.”
“Of course they do.” I shook my head, laughing. He had a good heart, and I knew someday he’d find the right woman for him. Probably someone who loved his lines and his try-hardness. That woman wasn’t me, and we both knew it.
“If you’re not going to marry me, I better move on to find someone who will,” he said with a wink.
“Thanks for the beer, Ty.”
Before he walked off, he grabbed my hand, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it.
I shook my head and grinned.
As he rolled his beer cooler away, my eyes were drawn across the crowd to find Max watching me. He wasn’t smiling.
As if he realized he was staring, he turned his attention to the group of math teachers he was with. I tuned into Francesca’s tale of helping Dr. Holloway, the town vet, catch his pet llama who’d gone on the lam yet again.
Not two minutes later, my phone buzzed in the pocket of my skirt. I pulled it out and saw Max’s name, which threw my heart rate into overdrive. I angled my screen to be sure no one could see it, unlocked it, and read Max’s message.
Something going on between you and Bishop?
I pursed my lips to hide the satisfaction that brought. I weighed how to handle the question as I pretended to be engrossed in Francesca’s story.
I could mess with Max and tell him yes, but I didn’t want to play games.
I texted my answer.
No.
He’s hanging all over you like a monkey on a banana tree.
I hid my laugh and again tried to act as if I wasn’t one hundred percent into my phone.
I quickly typed in a single word.
Jealous?
I’d seen him stiffen and frown in the food line when Ty had called me pretty lady the first time. I could tell he’d tried to stifle any reaction, but I’d been watching for one, hoping. And I’d seen it clear as day.
Max took a couple of minutes to respond. I could see he, too, was trying to engage with the people around him. But finally, my phone vibrated. I discreetly took a peek.
Yes.
I felt lighter than air, as if someone had pumped helium into my chest. I bit my lip and fought the urge to glance his way. I lasted a few seconds. When I looked toward where Max had been standing, he was gone.
For a heartbeat, I panicked that he’d left, but then logic caught up, and I realized there was no way he could pack up his son and all the kid equipment that fast. Sure enough, I found the two of them a few feet from their original spot, digging through their diaper bag. I sighed, happy they were still here, then rededicated myself to participating in the conversation around me.
Later, when Joanna and I were finishing packing up what little food was left, I heard talk of a high-stakes volleyball match. Normally I’d be game to join them, but I wasn’t dressed for it in this long, flowy skirt, so I ignored the loud recruitment going on around me.
I tuned back in when I heard my dad, who’d apparently decided to play, say, “Come on, Coach. We need your height against Ty.”
Behind me, Max’s low-pitched laugh sounded, awakening something deep inside me and making me want. “I promised Danny we’d get in the water,” he said.
“You want to go swimming, Danny?” my dad said.
It was all I could do not to turn around and see if Danny responded. Turned out I didn’t need to, because my dad laughed and said, “You do. What if we asked Harper over there to take you so your daddy could be on my volleyball team? Would you like to go swimming with Harper?”
I turned around, unable to ignore them.
Danny was peering at me with his sweet blue eyes and the beginnings of a grin. He wore shark-print swim trunks and a life vest with mini floaties on his arms. The cutie was impossible to resist.
When I glanced up at Max, though, I felt like a bucket full of cold reality was poured over me. He was frowning.
“He doesn’t go to other people easily,” Max explained.
Except Danny had taken my dad’s hand and was willingly coming toward me, his eyes big.
I met Max’s gaze again, expecting him to be smiling as I was, but instead he scowled.
“He’ll be just fine with Harper,” my dad assured him. “We don’t have a hope of winning without you on our side of the net.”
I could tell Max didn’t like it, but he finally relented, just as Danny reached me.
“Do you mind, Harper?” my dad asked.
Any other time, I’d resent my dad forcing me into something. “How could I resist such a handsome little guy?” I asked, meaning it. I picked up Danny.
Again, I looked at Max now that he was so close, but he avoided eye contact, instead sizing up his son to make sure he was okay with this change in plans, then turning to my dad and saying, “Let’s go kick their butts. Quickly.”
When he followed my dad past me after kissing his son, he finally acknowledged me—with a frown.
For an instant, I was stunned at his open rudeness. When I noticed Danny staring at me unabashedly, his blue eyes ever curious and long lashes angelic, I commanded myself to shake it off and snapped on a facade of indifference.
“Are you ready to get in the water, big guy?”
Danny whipped his head around to point at the lake.
“I’ll take that as a yes. We have to make a quick stop first, okay?”
I carried him over to my bag under the food awning and dropped my phone inside of it. I lowered Danny next to me and said, “I can’t swim in this silly skirt, can I?” I slid it down my legs and stuffed it into my bag, then slipped my flip-flops off. “I’m ready if you are, Danny boy.”
I picked him up again, a smile stretching across his face as he studied me. Impulsively, I kissed his forehead because he was so damn cute, and then immediately realized what I’d done.
I’d kissed Max Dawson’s kid with a level of familiarity that might lead people to think Max and I were closer than we were. As if I were angling to be Danny’s new mommy. My mouth went dry at the thought of the M-word. That was not my jam and wouldn’t be any time soon, no matter how lovable this little boy was.
No one appeared to have seen my slip-up. There was no taking it back anyway. With a shrug and a little more caution, I carried Danny to the waterline and set him on his feet.
We waded, his hand in mine, stopping frequently for him to bend down, splash, and giggle. That giggle was everything. How anyone could be around it and not feel better about the world was beyond me.
When we neared the volleyball court, where the game was in progress, Danny pointed and said, “Boy bah.”
“That’s right. Volleyball. Aren’t you the smartest boy ever?”
He’d stopped, entranced by the game. When Max’s team scored a point and cheered, Danny pulled his hand away from mine and clapped awkwardly, beaming. “Dada!”
“You want to watch Daddy?” I asked. Looking at Danny’s face, I didn’t need a verbal answer. He was animated and engaged, joy emanating from him.
This was the excuse I needed to watch Max in action. Thank you, Dad.
We ended up sitting in shallow water, at Danny’s insistence. I sat crisscross applesauce, and Danny plopped on my lap, kicking his feet from time to time.
Max on a volleyball court was a thing of beauty. And then he took his shirt off. Yes, I’d seen his stellar chest and abs before, but I’d never get sick of that view.
The sun sank in the sky enough that Danny seemed to get a little cool before the game was over. I pulled him out of the water, got towels for both of us, and dried him as his lips chattered. A search through his bag produced a set of dry pajamas, so I changed his diaper and put on the cat pj’s.
By the time the game ended and Max extracted himself from his team’s victory celebration, Danny was dry, warm, and mellow, content to sit on my lap and watch the action from a distance.
“Good game,” I said to Max as he packed up the rest of their belongings and prepared to leave.
“Thanks.” He didn’t even look at me.
I stood, holding Danny. Once Max had his bag over his shoulder, he took his son from me, seemingly extra careful not to touch me. Smart, but it made me want to touch him even more.
“Come here, Danny boy. Looks like you’re ready for bed.”
“Dada.”
Max’s math teacher friends had gathered around us and were packing up as well.
“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Max said to them, his normal Mr. Social tone in place. Before he walked off, he looked right at me, then said with less warmth, “Thanks for watching Danny, Harper.”
“Good night.”
When he didn’t reply, I did my best to keep a blank expression on my face, but inside, I was screaming WTF?
As I went to find my dad and make sure he didn’t need anything else, I couldn’t get two things out of my mind. One, Max hadn’t had the courtesy to say goodbye to me. Two, I was pretty sure he didn’t trust me with his son.
Neither one sat right with me.