by E. H. Lyon
I can’t speak, instead I nod in a daze.
“Looks like I finally left you speechless.”
I continue to nod. “You look different, but good, real good,” I say honestly.
“I’m not going to deny that.” He is so cocky.
My food arrives to wheel me into reality.
“You are having some of my food. I’m confident four eggs are not good for one soul.” I begin to move food onto a plate for him.
“Are you a feeder?”
“Maybe. Never thought about it,” I shrug. “So, what do you normally get for your mother when it’s her birthday?”
Max begins to nibble away at the cinnamon bun. “Varies. One year a scarf, another year a spa day, tried once a bracelet.”
“Does she like to cook? Or entertain?”
Max chortles. “Beverly Katz cooks non-stop. And entertain? She used to all the time, still does, but she’s toned it down a bit.”
“I think I know just the thing.”
Max’s brows arch up and he’s curious.
“Trust me,” I urge him.
“I do. That’s the crazy part,” he declares softly.
We walk around the little boutique along the river just outside of Sage Creek. To some it is a roadside stop, but this gem of a store has character. It’s reminiscent of an old-time general store, except it’s filled with local artists’ and vendors’ work.
“I’ve always driven by here but never stopped. Assumed it was for tourists,” Max explains as he looks around the place.
“I guess when you just move to a place you can play tourist, and I have done just that.” I grab his arm and drag him with me through the store until we get to the back corner. “Stay close, there are a lot of breakable things here,” I mention, because me accidently breaking something is not new.
I begin to look at the table of different glass creations. “What about this?” I hold up a beautiful blue blown-glass plate with various paint colors swirling through the glass.
“Wow. That is special. An eye-catcher for sure.” He reaches for the plate while I continue to take inventory of the options.
“They also have these wine glasses with a matching port bottle.” I point to the other table.
“She has a lot of wine glasses. A Sage Creek must,” Max tells me.
“Oh? Guess I need to stock up on wine glasses then.”
“This is really perfect. Different, for sure. I’m going to get this.” He begins to look at the other plates.
I watch him and take in his curiosity and the way he makes decisions. The way his tongue gently clicks behind his front teeth as he considers his options. His forearms on display as it’s warm enough for him to be in a t-shirt today, and those black-rimmed glasses driving me wild.
A few minutes later he has picked out a set of two plates with matching dessert plates. As he stands to check out and waits for the cashier to wrap his dishes in wrapping, I ask about his sister.
“My sister Maya, I don’t see or hear from her much. She moved to New York and she comes back maybe once a year at best. She’s also a lot older than me, a 15-year difference. I was an oopsie baby, my mom thought she had the flu and surprise. It’s okay, I’m not close with my sister, we were never close. I had the guys, and we’re like brothers. Oh yeah, that reminds me that I need to find a gift for Lucas’s son who turns six in a few weeks.”
“Does that mean we’re going to the toy section of this place?” I smile and get a little excited.
“I am sure you have the kids gifts nailed down. But I need to first check with Lucas what the kid wants. Theo spends most of his time with his mom and Lucas only sees him so much and I am not sure what the gift list is this year.”
“Yeah, Abby mentioned about Theo,” I comment as I have met Abby—who is Avery’s cousin and Lucas’s girlfriend—a few times. Everyone is interconnected in this small town.
We walk out of the store and a racing feeling hits me. I could force this guy to follow me around all day, but the initiation also needs to come from him.
“Well, I guess you solved your Saturday activity of birthday gift shopping.” My hands find the pockets of my jean shorts and I kick around a few pebbles under my sandals.
“I did.” Max looks at me.
“Anyhow, I am sure you have a lot to do and I have some stuff to do. I had a good time,” I begin to ramble and walk away, but his strong arm grabs mine and reels me in.
“Uh, I think I owe you a ride home,” he reminds me as I had walked to Smokey Java’s since it is great weather out, then we drove here in Max’s car.
I shyly smile at him. “True.”
“Come on,” he gives me a reassuring smile. There is a reason this man works in real estate; he has a catalogue of grins and smiles to choose from. Yet one thing always remains the same, the authenticity behind each smile. The honesty. It warms you, it moves you, it assures you.
In the car, we discuss cocktails. I surprise Max when I say that I’m not into sweet cocktails, I prefer fresh and sour.
“I think Nate just added Pisco sour to the menu,” Max mentions as he focuses on the road.
“Oh yeah? I have spoken to him a few times. Used to be a professional hockey player, right?”
Max gives me the side-eye before returning to focus on the road. “Why? Interested?”
I have to laugh. “No way. I’m looking for someone on my wavelength. Something tells me he wouldn’t appreciate my drive to save the turtles.”
“Maybe.” He shrugs a shoulder.
“Besides, I think there is someone else that I find interesting.” It comes out soft.
“Oh yeah?” A wry smile forms on his mouth.
“He’s just going to make me wait.” I look at him as he takes in my words.
When we arrive at my place, we look at each other.
A rolling wave moves up my body, unsure of what to do but knowing what is right to do. “I’m going to go. Being in close proximity with you isn’t good for my blood pressure,” I admit to him gently.
“I feel it too,” he mentions.
I want to just grab his hand and bring it to my face, but I wouldn’t stop there.
“Bye, Max.” I get out of the car.
“Bye, Harper... wait, it’s only halfway through the weekend. Maybe I should be a good realtor and show you the area some more?”
I lean down and through the open window on the car door. “What would that entail?”
“Restraint,” he deadpans, and I love his remark.
I twirl some hair around my finger and offer, “Well, I can bring my handcuffs if you feel it’s necessary.”
A slow-forming grin swells on his face again. “Something tells me that you are not even joking. I will text you, Harper,” he promises. I nod with a droll smile before he drives away.
Chapter Five
Max
My eyes can’t comprehend the amount of Tupperware containers being placed in front of me on the table. There is no way I am going to get through all this food.
“Max, are you sure I can’t send you home with some cookies? They’re your favorite. Chocolate rugalach,” my mother asks again as her hand grabs my jaw like I’m a ten-year-old.
I jerk her hand away. “No, Ma, I’m fine… Okay, fine, add the cookies, and maybe the chocolate chip cookies too,” I shrug. I’m not a dessert fan, but her cookies rock my world.
My mother shimmies away, satisfied with her win. Her dark permed hair doesn’t move an inch and she’s dressed like she’s about to attend a late-night cocktail hour even though it’s 4pm. She returns from the kitchen and adds another box on top of the others that sit on the dining room table in my childhood home.
“Tell me, Max, did you go on a date with Cindi Smyth’s daughter? She sounded like a real treat,” my mother asks as she sits across from me and sips her glass of iced tea, leaving her peachy-colored lipstick print on the glass.
“Nah, I’ve been busy. A lot of people are looking for houses before the
school year starts. Plus, her daughter has been divorced… twice.” I give my mother the warning glare.
“Oh dear. Indeed, married once at your age, fine, but twice is warning bells. Any interesting clients?” she asks, but two seconds after studying her and I know this woman is fishing for details.
I smile to myself. “The usual. Why do you ask?”
She taps her fingers on the dark wood table. “No reason.” Her eyes roll as she pretends to look around the room.
This is when I kill my business partner.
“Are you sure?” I press, because I know it’s coming.
My mother bursts her façade. “Okay, okay, I may have phoned your office. And Jess mentioned you were showing a friend of hers some houses. So naturally I had a few questions, and I may have learned the friend is single.”
I am now in disbelief, and my eyes roll as my hands go out. “Are you all in this together? What the hell.” I groan. “We are not having this conversation.”
My mother smiles and her hand comes out to touch mine on the table. “I just want to see you happy, and I want to plan a wedding.”
“I love your honesty,” I say sarcastically.
She looks at her nails while I cool down.
“First off,” I reply, “even if there were something to tell—sorry, but you would be the last to know.”
My mother feigns shock.
“Secondly, I don’t date clients. Dad was adamant not to mix business and personal,” I add.
She laughs as she pours more iced tea. “And you know why that is, right?”
“Yes. Dad and Uncle Dan got into an argument over an investment. They didn’t talk after that.”
“True. But also, I was your father’s secretary and that’s how we met. You know that,” she reminds me, and it’s true. Then once he put a ring on it, she became a dedicated homemaker. “That is by far more awkward than dating your client who will not be your client in the foreseeable future.”
“I agree, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea. You make one exception and then it never ends.”
My mother holds a finger up. “Not unless she is the only exception… as in the one.”
I scoff at her suggestion. “Geez, Ma, you don’t even know anything about this woman and already you’re telling me she is the one.”
She giggles. “I don’t know, but I am just stating the obvious. If she is the one, then you don’t have to worry about any other clients being the exception down the road. I love that you are doing so well, I am one proud mama at Tuesday book club. But Max, don’t make it difficult for yourself.”
My cue to leave.
“And with that note, I gotta go.” I stand up from my seat and gather the army supply of food on the table. Stopping a moment to admire the photo of my father on the wall. He must have been in his fifties when that photo was taken, and he’s in a suit standing at the bottom of the stairs.
A tender hand pats my shoulder as I look at the photo. “I know you want to take his advice to the heart, but maybe he wasn’t always right. I will argue with him about that in another life,” she mentions with a soft smirk.
I let the words hang in the air for a few beats. “Maybe.” I give her a hug. “Bye, Ma.” I leave and walk through the pristine hallways lined with family photos and out the front door to the sunny afternoon back to my car.
In the car, I set the boxes of food on the front seat then curse to myself as there is no way that will survive the car ride. Deciding to switch tactics, I move the boxes to the floor of the front seat and pray for a miracle.
Before I start the engine, I think about what my mother said. Maybe one exception won’t hurt if it is the only and last. But another overwhelming thought takes over. It’s been only a few hours since I saw Harper, but she is in my mind. Every second with her is erratic, but I fucking love that she keeps me on the edge of uncertainty.
I have no clue what her sexy mouth will say.
No idea what pout on her lips she will throw at me.
I’m kept on my toes if she’ll keep her clothes on, and that is in real life, not just my mind.
She drips fun and I am a fun guy.
I’ve met my match and maybe I should light it.
Finally starting my car, I decide to phone Lucas. He normally has solid advice. My speakerphone clicks on, and after two rings, he answers.
“Hey, man, I have a predicament and need some of your moral fiber to rub off on me,” I admit as I pull out of the driveway.
The sound of an energetic kid is in the background, but Lucas answers, “Tell me.”
“I think I mentioned that the chick from the bar the other night is actually my client and I have been showing her houses?”
“Yeah, you did.”
“She is out of this world, Lucas. I’ve never met someone like her. I mean, she is a schoolteacher and knows how to do the splits, can you imagine how my brain nearly burst when I discovered these facts?” I am not even joking, this is a serious matter.
Lucas still has the audacity to chuckle. “Okay, and? What’s the problem?”
“She is my client.”
“Max, you really think that’s a dealbreaker? I’ve had Abby be my patient a few times now and not in the way my dick prefers,” he admits.
“TMI, man, but that’s different. You’re both in a long-term relationship. Harper I’ve only known for four days.” But it feels like eternity.
“Really, Max, you are the one always telling all of us to bang out every emotion in the book and now you’re holding back? You are cockblocking yourself.”
My head tilts to the side as I don’t like that realization. I am failing my own advice that I have dished out to friends for years.
“Harper is something, Lucas.”
“Yeah, I met her a few times, remember? She hangs out sometimes with the ladies.”
I make a sharp stop at a red light. “I know, you mentioned the other night at Matchbox before I knew she was my client. I should have gotten her number from Abby and stormed to her place and used my Max charm.”
Lucas chuckles again. “Oh yeah? Sounds dirty.”
He has no idea.
“Look, Theo is about to burst in a minute. I just think you’re being ridiculous, and if Leo were here then he would tell you to grow a pair and be a man. There is no reason to set a ridiculous rule, especially if you think she’s unique. Rules are meant to be broken. Remember you told us that before we broke into Leo’s dad’s liquor supply when we were 16.”
That was a good time. And again, it’s true, I have been dishing out the advice that rules are meant to be broken from my book of life for years.
“Right. So, I’m being a little crazy. Okay, I will invite her over for an innocent dinner and drinks. That’s simple and easy, right?”
“Yeah, and who says it has to go anywhere? Just have a good night, good conversation, and maybe an innocent cuddle session. I mean, it could be worse, right? You could be home swiping left and right all night.”
That idea is cringe-worthy.
Theo starts screaming in the background and I know I need to let Lucas go. “We’ll catch up tomorrow at brunch, right?” It’s group brunch and Abby is hosting. We all try to meet every few weeks for dinner or brunch along with some other friends.
Lucas confirms before hanging up. I quickly pull up to the organic supermarket and park my car. Pulling out my phone, I send a text to Harper.
Me: Since I know you’re human, I know you must need to eat dinner soon?
I don’t expect an answer right away, so I slide out of my car, lock it, and head inside the store to grab a bottle of good white wine. As I walk down the wine aisle, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Harper: Oh, you had doubts I was part alien too? I wondered about that until I was in college. And yes, dinner sounds good.
I smile to myself as I type.
Me: What happened in college? Oh wait, I don’t think I want to know. Okay, meet me at my place, I’ll cook.
Harper: My oh my, I get to see your kingdom. I’m honored. 7?
Me: Perfect. I will text you the address when I’m out of the supermarket.
Looking in the wine fridge at the store, I decide to opt for the expensive bottle. Then when I head towards the check-out, I notice these puff vegetable things on display and figure Harper likes rabbit food so maybe I should get some of those. I also notice the chocolate with chili peppers, and for some reason it reminds me of Harper, and I add that to the basket.
Quickly, my mind recalls the contents of my nightstand and does an inventory that I have a decent condom supply. But then the other half of my mind slaps some sense into me that with Harper she is a lot more than a potential lay. She is probably paradise that I want to chain to my bed and honor every inch of her slowly after talking to her for hours. Maybe that requires waiting.
And I am okay if I have to wait, because something gives me the feeling that she might just be the whole shebang, conversation and all. And I would be okay just staring at her all night, and my ears would enjoy the music of every word that unexpectedly comes out of her mouth. Basically, it comes down to the fact that just being around her sends a flood of happy endorphins my way.
And in two hours, she will be standing in my house.
Chapter Six
Max
“That is super sweet of you, Max, but you do realize this is toddler food, right?” Harper laughs before taking a sip of her white wine. I pick up the vegetable puffs that I got at the store and look at the package after adjusting my glasses. Low and behold, it is for toddlers, including a dancing dinosaur in the corner of the foil bag.
“Oh man, I am not making an impression,” I admit as I throw the bag to the other counter and make a note to give it to Jess for her kid.
“This is all from your mother?” Harper asks amazed as she motions her head towards the gazillion containers spread out on my kitchen island.
“And this week she went light on the cooking.”
