5. Lila #2
A shriek rockets out of me as the freezing wave hits my face and chest, soaking me from my beachy bun updo to the waistband of my shorts.
Finally, Judith wrestles the container upright.
I push wet hair out of my face and look toward the volleyball court.
They’re all staring at me. One of the firefighters still has his arms raised in anticipation of a ball that plops beside him.
“Lila!” Sand flies as Max sprints toward me.
I close my eyes and blow out a shaky breath.
This time, there was no pink magick. No witchy sabotage or lifelong nemesis to blame. At least my butt cheeks aren’t out.
“Are you hurt?” Max drops into a crouch beside me. His hands hover over my shoulders as if he wants to touch but isn’t sure if that would be okay.
Water drips from the end of my nose. “No.”
“What happened?”
“I’d like to say it was some sort of an unprovoked tent attack, but apparently I’m just bad at staying on my feet.”
He looks up as Judith secures the pole in the sand, then back at me. His lips twitch.
“Don’t you dare laugh.”
“I’m not.” He shakes his head and has to purse his lips to keep from erupting.
“You’re thinking about it.”
The corner of his mouth lifts in that crooked smile I’m learning to crave. “Am not.”
His gaze moves over me, checking for injuries. Unfortunately, my yellow tank top has become nearly transparent. It clings to my breasts and the lace bralette that is doing nothing to hide the tight peaks of my nipples.
Max’s attention catches, and his pupils seep into the grass green of his irises.
A rough sound vibrates in his chest.
I bite my lower lip and cross both arms over my chest. “I’m cold.”
“Right. Obviously” His gaze snaps back to my face. “I mean, not obviously. I can’t see— I wasn’t staring at—”
I roll my eyes. “Help me up.”
The instant our palms meet, heat races up my arm.
Max’s fingers close around mine, warm and strong and slightly rough.
He guides me to my feet, pulling me closer than necessary.
My wet chest nearly brushes his bare one.
Heat rolls off his skin, enveloping me in the scent of salt, sunshine, and something warm and woodsy that makes my knees weak.
His other hand settles on my hip as he leans down and inhales. His fingers dig into my skin as his nostrils flare and he draws in another breath.
A low rumble rolls through him.
I stop breathing.
Max’s grip tightens as his gaze drops to my mouth.
Icy water runs down my stomach, but I barely notice. I’m practically a puddle at his feet, and not only because I was just flooded by several gallons of drinking water.
Oh, dear. My fully thought-out evil bribery plan failed to account for purposeful touching.
“Lila, hun, you dropped this.” Judith’s voice breaks through the haze.
She’s holding my notebook. My open notebook. The OPERATION: BUTTER UP THE FOX page flaps in the breeze.
She extends it toward Max, who happens to be closer. “Here you go.”
He reaches for it, but before he can grab it, I launch myself between them and snatch the notebook out of her hands. “I’ve got it! Thank you.”
Max glances down at the notebook. “What’s in there?”
“Nothing. Private work things. It’s nothing,” I repeat, which I’m sure only makes him more suspicious.
“Thanks, Mrs. Collins.”
“I told you, call me Judith.”
“Right. Sorry. Judith.”
She beams up at him for a moment before her gaze drops to his bare chest.
Honestly, I can’t blame her.
“Let me help you with these cups,” Max offers.
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Judith waves him. “You two keep talking. I can handle a few cups.”
She gives me an exaggerated wink before wandering toward the other end of the tent.
“Why does it feel like I’m incapable of being around you for any extended period of time without destroying something?” Needing something to occupy my hands—and keep them off his chest—I crouch to gather the nearest cups.
His expression softens as he joins me despite Judith’s instructions. “I don’t mind.”
“You say that now. The first time we met, it was a cake. Today, it’s the hydration station. Tomorrow, I could take out the Ferris wheel.”
I point toward the midway, where workers are assembling the towering metal frame.
A shiver slips down my spine. Being trapped hundreds of feet above the ground in a swinging metal box has never struck me as a particularly fun activity.
Max follows my gaze before looking back at me.
“We should have a do-over,” he says. “For the cake. I never got to taste you.”
His gaze drops to my lips, and I feel the look like a touch.
My heart stops, and he blinks, taking a few seconds to register his mistake before his face turns scarlet.
“Your cake!” He slides the fox charm back and forth along its chain. “I never got to taste your cake.”
“You’re right,” I say, attempting to sound casual despite the pulse pounding between my legs. “You didn’t get to taste it. The cake,” I add. “Obviously.”
“Obviously.”
“I have a few cupcakes at home since I’m trying out new recipes for the competition. Actually, I happen to be working on some unique flavor combinations. Ironing out the final details and everything. I could use an impartial opinion.”
Max’s interest sharpens. “Tonight? Say seven o’clock?”
“Unless you’re busy.”
“I’m not.” The answer comes so quickly it nearly collides with my question. He rubs the back of his neck. “I did volunteer to set up the dunk tank and ring toss…”
“You are busy.” The disappointment swelling in my chest catches me off guard, and I swallow past the tightness in my throat. “It’s not a big deal. We can reschedule. Er, well, we can’t since the competition is tomorrow, but—”
“I don’t think we can,” he says, suddenly serious. “What I’m hearing is that a Crescent Cove community member and Frosting Queen contestant is requesting guidance from a duly appointed judge.”
My stomach plummets.
Operation: Butter Up the Fox suddenly feels less like an unserious bribery plot and more like evidence in a corruption trial. I clutch the notebook more tightly against my chest. “I withdraw the request. I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s too late now. If a constituent comes to me in need of baking-related assistance, I have no choice but to help.”
His grin breaks free, relief and delight fizzing through me.
“I didn’t realize you’d been here long enough to run for public office.”
We both stand as we pick up the last of the cups.
“Maybe not, but I am the judge of a very serious and extremely prestigious baking competition. Helping a contestant takes precedence over anything else I might have planned,” he continues. “I’m pretty sure it’s in the bylaws.”
“There are no bylaws.”
“That explains why they’ve been so difficult to locate.
” He takes my collection of sandy cups, and we walk them to the nearest recycling bin.
“How about you meet me here tonight when the festival officially opens? We can try out some of the rides, and I can show off my dunk tank and ring toss set up skills. Then we can walk back to your place for dessert.”
The roughness in his voice has me breaking out in goosebumps.
“I’d like that.”
A volleyball rolls across the sand and bumps against his bare foot.
“Lark!” someone calls. “Are you planning to play, or should we find someone who remembers we exist?”
Max’s gaze remains fixed on mine.
“You should get back.”
“I should.” He nods.
“Go score all the sports goals.”
He brushes a line of sand from my cheek. “That’s not how volleyball works.”
“I know. Just get back out there and do something impressive with your balls.” The words leave my mouth before their meaning reaches my brain.
Heat engulfs my face.
Max’s brows lift, his gaze dropping to his shorts. “I’ll see what I can do.”
His laugh follows him as he bends to retrieve the volleyball. “Try not to get into any more tent fights while we’re apart.”
“No promises.”
He pauses, mouth open like he’s going to say something, but instead digs his teeth into his lower lip before turning and jogging back to the court.
The men immediately swarm him, shoving his shoulders and saying things I can’t hear. Max ignores them, glancing back at me one last time.
My entire body feels light. I’m warm and effervescent and practically bubbling over with joy.
I have a date!
No, Lila, not a date.
I glance down at the notebook containing my evil master plan. Operation: Butter Up the Fox is onto the next step.