Chapter Twenty-Two
October 11th, 6:30 p.m.
M ax approached the passenger side of his truck and opened the door for Paloma like a true gentleman. His fingers trailed across her lower back as she climbed in, too deliberate to be polite. Heat bloomed under her skin.
The scent of leather and his cologne filled the air inside the cozy cab. It did nothing to cool her desire.
He started the engine and drove down the long driveway of the Sterling’s house. Making a left, he said, “I saw a place yesterday on the way to the condo and thought you’d love it.”
“Is it a sit-down restaurant?” Yes, she was exposing her eagerness, but her need to touch and taste him was more powerful than her empty stomach.
“It’s not,” he answered. His focus remained on the road, but the slight curve of his lips told her he knew exactly what she was thinking. And from the way he shifted in his seat, his thoughts weren’t far from hers.
“And I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
“Now?”She rested her hand on his knee, drawing small circles against his jeans with her thumb. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "Or later?” Her question dripped with intent.
He pulled into a lot and parked the truck. Then he ran his lips along her jaw to her ear and whispered, “Both.” He bit gently on her lobe before backing away.
His teasing had her fighting the urge to climb onto his lap. As if reading her impulse, he said firmly, “But food first.” He gestured with his chin toward the window.
She followed his gaze. Her breath caught for an entirely different reason. Through the windshield was a beach she hadn’t visited since last summer. Back when she’d escaped to her brother’s place after Richard’s betrayal. The familiar shimmering expanse of the bay stretched before her, catching the early evening sun. The pull of it tugged in her chest alongside the lingering heat of desire.
She rolled down her window, and the unique blend of sun-warmed sand, damp earth, and something distinctly aquatic flowed into the car. It wasn’t the briny smell of the ocean but a hint of fish and algae mixed with the crisp, clean aroma of fall in Northern Michigan.
“Want to eat by the water or get it to go?” he asked, his hand resting lightly on the door handle.
She wanted him naked and doing wonderful things to her body, but this stretch of bay was her sanctuary. Last summer, these waves had been her only witness as she’d pieced herself back together after Richard shattered her world.
As if Max sensed her dilemma, he said. “Let’s stay. We have to eat, so why not enjoy the view?”
“We could eat and drive,” she said, half-joking.”
He pointed toward the food truck. “They serve street tacos. Not the best meal for a driving dinner.”
“True,” she agreed. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“For you? Of course not.”
This man was too good. He made it clear at the house that he was ready to get her back to the condo and under him but was willing to wait to give her this moment. If she weren’t careful, she’d fall for him.
That sent a jolt of fear through her. She was already teetering on the edge of feeling she’d promised herself she wouldn’t feel. And seeing that familiar look of overwhelm in his eyes made her chest tighten.
She wouldn’t think of that now. They’d agreed these next few weeks were about pleasure, and that was what she’d focus on—work during the day and his body at night.
Stepping from the truck, the cool autumn air nipped at her skin. She grabbed a blanket from the cab, shook it, and started for the beach. The parking lot’s asphalt was still warm from the day’s heat, a stark contrast to the cooling air around her. Her steps quickened, eager to get near the water. She slipped off her shoes at the transition from pavement to sand, relishing the cool grains between her toes. The sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink. Small waves lapped gently at the shore, creating a soothing rhythm.
She found the perfect spot between sand and water and sat. The beach was quiet, with only a few others dotting the shoreline. Listening to the gentle waves, she let the peaceful atmosphere wash over her.
A light breeze ruffled her hair, carrying the mingled scents of the water and distant pine trees. She opened her eyes, scanning the parking lot for Max. As if on cue, she spotted him walking toward her, carefully balancing their dinner and a couple of drinks. The sight of him, silhouetted against the colorful sky, made her heart stumble, then raced to catch up.
Reaching their blanket, he handed over her food and settled beside her. They unwrapped their tacos, and the spicy aroma filled the air. She took a bite, a satisfied moan escaping her.
“Good?” he asked, his voice low.
“Mmm, s o good,” she replied, licking a bit of sauce from her lower lip. His eyes darkened and followed the movement, and his breath caught slightly.
Not that she was any better. Between bites, she watched his hands—strong, capable fingers that hours ago had been building their client’s garden, now delicately maneuvering a messy taco. A dollop of salsa rested on the corner of his mouth. She gently combed through his short beard to wipe it away.
Their gazes locked, and for a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just the two of them. His lips parted slightly, but before he could speak, a seagull swooped down, snatching a chip from his plate. The spell broken, they burst into laughter.
“Damn sky rats,” she said, wiping her mouth and covering her food from the birds. “I’m really glad we’re doing this. Not just the job, but . . . this.” She gestured between them.
The corner of his mouth quirked in a gentle half-smile, and he leaned closer to her as if drawn by an invisible thread. “Me too. I’ve never enjoyed anyone’s company quite like yours.”
“Same.” She squeezed his hand, letting her touch linger. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
Max looked to the sky, his thumb absently stroking the back of her hand. “I used to be terrified of the water. If I couldn’t see my feet, I’d scream. Cry.”
“Really? When did you grow out of it?”
“Who says I did?” he joked.
She laughed, bumping his shoulder with hers. “My bad. Sorry for assuming. ”
“When I was six. Thanks to my dad,” he said with a fond smile. “He spent the entire summer teaching me to swim. By the end of it, I couldn’t get enough of the water.”
She leaned against him, picturing a young Max conquering his fears. Her heart also ached for what he’d lost. “Your dad sounds like he was amazing. I bet he’d be proud of the man you’ve become.”
“Who knows . . . maybe.”
She gave his hand another gentle squeeze. “Definitely.”
They continued talking, sharing stories, and laughing as the sun sank in the sky. They finished their meal as the last rays disappeared into the water, taking the rest of the day’s heat.
She shivered slightly, pulling her knees to her chest. “I guess that’s our cue to head back,” she said, her voice soft.
He nodded, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that made breathing nearly impossible. “Yeah, I suppose it is,” he replied, his tone low and filled with promise.
They packed up their sunset picnic, folding the blanket still warm from their bodies. The cooling sand shifted beneath her bare feet, each sinking step drawing her closer to him. His fingers found hers, calloused and warm, and her pulse quickened.
At the truck, he tucked a windblown strand of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered, trailing down her cheek. “You have a bit of sand,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving hers.
She leaned into his touch. “Thanks,” she whispered.
His hand lingered on her cheek, his thumb gently caressing her skin. Her breath hitched, her heart racing, wanting him. The parking lot lights flickered on, casting a soft glow around them.
“Paloma,” he murmured. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
She shive red, not from the cool evening air but from want. She huddled close to Max, and he banded his arms around her back. Pressing her hand on his chest, she felt the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palms.
“I think I have some idea,” she said, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt. “Because you do the same to me.”
His thumb grazed her cheek as he held her gaze in the soft glow of the parking lot lights. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice dropping to that deep rumble that had her insides melting.
“Ye,” she whispered.
He moved slowly, deliberately, as if giving her time to change her mind. Then his lips were on hers. The kiss was nothing like their first frantic encounter. That had been all heat and urgency. This started gentle, an exploration that made her toes curl in the cool sand.
She rose on her tiptoes, pressing closer as her fingers curled into his shirt. The low groan that escaped him vibrated through her body, resting between her legs. His hand slid from her cheek to tangle in her hair. The waves and the autumn breeze faded until all she could focus on was the heat building between them.
His other hand settled at her waist, his fingers flexing against her hip when she nipped at his lower lip. The kiss deepened, and he backed her against the truck door. Her pulse raced at the way his body caged hers, solid and warm against the cool metal.
He pulled back, breathing hard. “We should stop, he said, voice rough with desire, “before we forget we’re in public.”
The clang of the taco truck’s window shuttering closed startled her. The person who’d made their dinner was getting more of a show than they’d bargained for. Max’s fingers tightened on her hip before he stepped back. “Let’s get you home.” His words held a promise that sent heat pooling low in her belly.