Chapter 4
Chapter four
Aubrey
After dropping the dessert special off at Angelo's Italian Restaurant, I head over to Hayes and Sara's house.
Using the key they gave me last month when I watered their plants while they were out of town, I let myself in through the garage, carefully balancing the cake as I back into the laundry room.
I stop short when I see a wooden gate blocking the entrance to the kitchen.
Water sloshes into my shoes as I take a step closer.
"Ew! Ugh," I step back quickly, shaking my foot as I realize I walked right into a dog's water bowl. They don't have a dog.
Anxious panic grips me, and I look around nervously, momentarily wondering if I somehow let myself into the wrong house. But Sara's pickleball bag hangs on the hook, and I'd recognize it anywhere. She stops at the bakery every single Saturday on her way home from the gym.
I peek around the corner. I don't see anything with fur, so decide I can probably step over the gate.
The laundry room lets into the kitchen, so I slide the cake onto the closest counter and hoist my leg up and over so I'm straddling the gate.
Overalls were not the best choice today, but in my defense, who plans to lift their leg above hip-level on any given day?
I reach out and brace myself against the refrigerator as I swing my other leg up.
Just like an Olympic gymnast. I congratulate my typically uncoordinated self, like the delusional nutter I am, just as the tip of my foot catches on the top of the gate. I land butt-first on the floor with a loud thud.
"Ow, damn it!"
"Who's there?" a deep voice calls out.
I freeze. I'd recognize that voice anywhere.
Shit.
Footsteps sound down the hall, and I scramble to look less like a turtle on its back. I'm in the downward dog position—which is appropriate considering I'm presenting myself like I'm in heat—when I spy two work boots between my legs.
I jump up quickly, embarrassingly winded from the entire ordeal. Then I'm breathless for a whole different reason.
Max's jeans are slung low on his hips, and his shirt is off. I swallow hard, my eyes taking in the glorious half-naked fantasy standing right in front of me.
His eyes open wide in surprise as he stares back at me.
"What are you doing here?" we say at the same time.
I laugh despite the fact that this man does nothing but glare at me. For once, he quirks a smile, and my heart takes off like a hummingbird.
"It's Sara and Hayes' anniversary today," Max says.
"I know." I motion toward the cake, then realize I need to get it into the fridge. My shoe squeaks loudly, and my sock is still soggy as I walk to the refrigerator and open the door.
"Holy shit." I gasp.
"Everything okay?" Max steps toward me.
I turn to meet his eyes again. "Yeah, uh.
Just having a geeky chef moment." I swallow hard, trying desperately not to let my eyes rove over his muscles.
"Um, their refrigerator is inspirational.
Like, major life goals." I laugh awkwardly and gesture to the neatly stacked and clear, labeled bins of fruits, vegetables, and prepped meals.
"Oh, yeah," Max says with a grin. "That's all Hayes, I'd guess. We lived together in our hometown for a few years after we got out of high school. I used to swap the labels just to mess with him."
God, this man is sexy. I stare at him like he's a celebrity, but this is the first time in a year he's talked to me without growling.
When he looks down at the counter and lightly taps his hand against it, I realize he's probably waiting on me to finish up.
I shake my head awkwardly and return my attention to the amazing fridge. I rearrange a few of the meal-prep containers, pulling them out so I can fit the cake in. Testing the door for a second to make sure it clears the box, I re-stack the containers neatly on a different shelf.
Max's eyes are on me the entire time.
When I finish and turn back to him, his gaze snaps to my face. If I didn't know better, I'd suspect he was checking out my ass.
Eat your heart out, Grumpy.
I blink and swallow hard, my eyes straining from the effort to stay glued to his face. Even though he's being pleasant right now, I refuse to give him the satisfaction of letting him catch me checking him out.
But dear God, I want to look!
"Did they get a dog?" I blurt out, trying to fill the charged silence. I motion at the gate, which I realize now is askew.
Max glances at it too, doing a double-take.
My cheeks heat. "I tripped over it. After I walked right into the water bowl," I say with a short laugh.
Max stalks toward me. "Was that the noise I heard? Are you okay?"
His eyes dart up and down my body like he's looking for an injury, making me weak in the knees.
"I'm fine," I breathe, tucking a strand of wayward hair behind my ear.
Max nods. His eyes dart to my mouth, then back to my eyes. "Hayes is getting Sara a puppy, and I'm getting the house ready."
He's standing close to me now. I should back up to give him space, but I'm already pressed against the counter and frankly enjoying the proximity.
"Oh, she's going to be so excited," I manage to get out. Why isn't he glaring at me? What the hell is happening? "So, you're doing all the hard, sweaty work?"
Oh, my god. Shut up.
Max grins.
I swallow hard. He's so pretty.
"Yeah, I’m supposed to be refitting the area under the stairs as a dog pen of sorts. I cut myself on a nail I screwed up." He gestures toward a bandage on his stomach, and my mouth drops open as I get a good look at his hard abs.
Holy mother of God.
I manage to cover my gasp as if I'm concerned. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, it's not deep. There's a reason they only let me do the electrical on the job sites," he jokes.
I smile. This is the Max everyone else gets.
He steps closer. "I was cleaning out my shirt in the sink when I heard the noise."
My breath catches, and I nod quickly, my mouth opening slightly as his clean scent fills my nostrils.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks again.
He's standing directly in front of me. So close, I could close the gap in seconds if I wanted to.
But it’s Max who presses me against the counter. I let out a soft whimper. I should be mortified, but the fire in his eyes tells me he likes it. A lot.
"Aubrey," Max says my name like a prayer. His hand cups my face, and I close my eyes, bathing myself in the moment as I nuzzle into his palm against my better judgment.
He hates me, doesn't he?
His hand goes around my waist, pulling me to him, and my eyes fly open as the proof of his hard, not-hating-me cock presses against my stomach.
"Can I kiss you?" Max asks, the heat in his eyes pinning me in place.
I stare up at the man who’s starred in every dirty, late-night fantasy I've had for over a year.
My entire body screams yes, from my puckered nipples to my drenched core.
But my brain has turned to mush, and I can't force myself to speak.
I pant as if he's already touching me, and my chest heaves as he gives me the smile everyone else gets.
He leans in, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
I close my eyes, knowing there’s only one answer I can possibly give him.
"No."