Crazy With You

by E. H. Lyon

  “What do you mean? Harper has been in Sage Creek all of 3 minutes, how the hell could the seller have an issue with her?” This infuriates me, and I begin to pace around my desk.

  “If you let me finish then you would know it’s not the buyer they have a problem with, it’s the buying agent… you.”

  I’m taken aback. Who the hell doesn’t like me? I charm and schmooze to perfection.

  “What do you mean?” I pinch the bridge of nose trying to rack my brain.

  “Apparently my client and you go way back. She doesn’t feel comfortable selling to you, and Christ, I am too old for this shit, but she seems to have the idea that Harper and you are, well, close. Small-town gossip. Anyhow, she thinks it would be inappropriate considering your history with her.”

  Small-town gossip my ass. So what, I had dinner with Harper at Forks Lore then breakfast at Smokey Java’s, may have kissed her on the corner of Main Street. But that isn’t enough public indecency to make a solid case that we’re together.

  “My history? What the hell. There is nobody who I have pissed off that much.” My brain quickly does a run-through of who it could be.

  Oh no.

  “What was the name of your client?” I ask, already afraid.

  “Melissa Bean, maiden name Cohen.”

  Right. Because the big man upstairs is testing me. This is exactly why you do not mix business and personal. The moment you take the chance it backfires. I may need a shovel to dig myself out of this one.

  Two hours later, I’m sitting at a café outside of Sage Creek. Sitting at a booth, I take a swig of the horrible coffee and wish I was the type of guy who carried a flask of the hard stuff around, because I need it right now.

  My ears perk up when I hear the bell on the door ring when it opens. Melissa walks through the door with that overly done smile. She slides into the other side of the booth. I can’t deny that she’s only aged a little as her shoulder-length brown hair and green eyes seem almost the same.

  “Max,” it’s a little too sing-songy for my taste.

  “Melissa.” I keep it simple.

  “Long time no see. Funny how life works out, right?” Her pink nails tap the table.

  “Yeah. Well, what can I say? Maturity does wonders. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” I’m not amused already.

  “You mean sell my grandparents’ house to your girlfriend?” She throws on a fake smile before asking the waitress for a flat latte.

  “She isn’t my girlfriend.” I mean, not that I would complain, but we are so new.

  “But you are close, no?”

  I scratch my chin. “That we are. But why the hell does it matter? You and I were what, 15 years ago?”

  She flicks her hair behind her shoulder. “13 years, Max. How is your mother?”

  I shake my head. “Fine. But you probably know that as your mother still speaks to mine. So again, what the hell is the problem with the house sale? I had no clue your grandparents moved to that house.”

  “I just don’t feel it is appropriate to sell my grandparents’ house to my ex’s significant other. When they were alive, they were already disappointed that you and I didn’t work out. I don’t want to throw that into their faces in their afterlife.”

  “Holy cow, I already have a migraine. Didn’t you get married and are now divorced? Something tells me that you probably moved on from a college fling.” I’m skeptical of her logic and it shows in my voice.

  She scoffs in disbelief. “We were not just a college fling, Max. It could have been you that I married.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be, Melissa. You know that.” I feel like I’m speaking to a wall.

  “What if this was a sign that we should cross paths again? Maybe my grandparents are sending me a sign.” She sounds optimistic as her head perks up like a chicken.

  I wave a finger up. “Mmm, nope. Let me think about that again. Definitely nope.”

  “You’re acting a little mean, Max.” She crosses her arms like an angry toddler.

  “Again. What do I need to do to ensure my client gets her house?”

  Melissa studies me for a few moments. “Take me to dinner.”

  I spit out my coffee. “No.”

  “Okay, then no house for your client.”

  “No wonder you’re getting divorced. You have the maturity level of a teenager.”

  Her mouth drops open, and I realize that I am not winning any points to get what I need.

  I adjust the collar of my shirt. “I’m sorry, that was harsh.”

  There is silence as we stare at each other. I definitely feel nothing for this woman in front of me.

  “It really means a lot to you, huh?” she asks.

  I nod my head yes.

  There’s a long pause before she speaks with a soft voice. “Do you ever think about maybe what could have been?” She looks into her hands on the table.

  I feel like a real dick for my honesty, but I need to be clear. “I don’t, actually. It wasn’t supposed to be.”

  She looks at me surprised and her eyes indicate that she seems a little hurt.

  “You really have no regret for what you did, do you?”

  I adjust my jaw as I think about that one. “I’m sorry. I don’t. It was the right thing to do.”

  There’s another long pause as she looks around the room.

  “Okay, let me think about it.”

  That gets me somewhere.

  “I would appreciate it a lot. Harper has done nothing to you and honestly wants to buy the house. It’s a good offer.” But now I’m wondering if we need someone to ward off the evil spirits in that house.

  “I said I would think about it,” she reminds me a little sternly.

  “Swell, Melissa.” I give her a pretend smile.

  My brain is still wondering why in the world the big man upstairs decided to drop my ex-fiancée from the sky the moment a great woman enters my life.

  Harper kisses me as she sets the bag of Italian take-away down on my kitchen counter.

  “Any news on the house? I hope so. Classes start next week, and I really need to focus on that. Today, I think I finally finished setting up my classroom. Maybe I should get a goldfish for the class.” Harper is rambling at a mile a minute.

  I scratch the back of my head as I watch her unpack the food. “Yeah, so about the house…”

  She looks at me like a lost deer in headlights complete with innocent eyes, and I feel like I may just ruin her day.

  “Is something wrong?” She sounds concerned.

  “Well, it’s just that… it is…”

  Her eyes go wide as she looks at me and waits for my explanation.

  “I’m just waiting for a reply from the selling agent.” Not entirely a lie.

  “Oh? I thought this would move a bit faster. I mean, it’s an all-cash offer.” She returns to unpacking the food.

  “Uh yeah, you would think. Sometimes the sellers make crazy decisions.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, fingers crossed.”

  I join her by the counter and grab a plate to start dishing out some food. Normally, I am crazy about eggplant parmesan, but I’m not sure I’m feeling it tonight.

  Five minutes into eating and I manage to keep us away from the house discussion. Instead she tells me more about the fellow teachers she is getting to know more. Then she tells me that her brother had a good time visiting.

  “I know this is kind of crazy. I mean to already involve relatives, but what my brother says, then my father always agrees. And I guess the house is one of those decisions.”

  I have a deep achy feeling in my belly.

  “I was thinking I could plant tomatoes or carrots in the new garden. I’m not a cook, but maybe I should learn how to be. Then paint the master bedroom with one wall turquoise. What do you think?”

  Whoa, I need to rein her in as I am trying to figure out how to break her dreams.

  “There is something I need to tell you about the house…” I begin and decid
e to throw on my big boy pants.

  She touches my arm and it’s an encouraging warmth.

  “The seller, well, she—” I’m interrupted by my phone vibrating in my pocket. Quickly I take a look and see that my crazy ex sent a text that she would agree to the house sell.

  Relief fills me and crisis averted.

  “Everything okay?”

  I smile. “Absolutely. The seller has agreed. Congratulations.”

  Harper bounces up in her seat and claps her hands together. “Really?” She beams. “This is great news.” She kisses me quick and hard before wrapping her arms around my neck. “I have a house, but there is something even better.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  “I will soon no longer be your client. So, you are freed from all guilt.” She smiles before kissing me again.

  Yeah… not quite.

  Harper grabs my hand to drag me off the chair. “Come on, Max, we should celebrate.”

  My dick takes over all my trains of thought as I follow her. She leads the way by hand as if she owns the place. “I like the sound of this.”

  “How do you feel about me blindfolding you?” she asks with a mischievous grin.

  My groin hurts from the sudden rush of blood. “Harper. You are a magical creature.”

  Right now, I just want to focus on the woman who is about to blindfold me and screw me until I go blind. I will have to worry about that sour feeling in my stomach tomorrow. Because I have a strange inkling that I may not be in the all clear yet.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Harper

  “This situation is 100% insane. Who the hell in their right mind drags the woman they have been seeing for only two weeks to meet their overbearing mother?” Max speaks with a wide grin as he kisses my hand that rests intertwined with his on the middle console of the car.

  We are on our way so I can meet his mother. She pressed him several times to bring me with when he visits her, and finally he gave in. To be honest, I have a feeling he’s a little bit of a mama’s boy as proven by the fact that I am still only number two on his speed dial. I managed to downgrade Jess on that list.

  “I think it’s kind of sweet, Max. I’m excited,” I smile, and all my words are true. I admire his bond with his mother.

  “Just don’t worry if she says something out of line. She sometimes forgets the limits of normal human manners,” he reassures me.

  “I’m not worried.”

  Fifteen minutes later and I am worried.

  “You don’t cook? Like ever?” his mother Beverly asks with a mix of disbelief and concern in her tone as she slides another plate of food my way as we sit at the dining table.

  The table is filled with enough food for a family of twenty. I’m not sure how Max managed to stay lean his entire life when he’s fed this amount of food on a regular basis.

  I shrug. “I mean, I want to learn, but I’m not that great at it.”

  Beverly’s face looks relieved as she brings her hands together. “I would love to show you how to make my Max’s favorite foods.” She goes to pinch Max’s cheek and it’s adorable.

  “Ma, stop with that,” he pleads as he jerks her arm away.

  There is nothing better than seeing a good-looking and successful man getting wrapped around his mother’s finger. As long as she doesn’t intervene then it doesn’t bother me.

  “It’s refreshing that Max brings a woman over. It’s been… awhile.”

  I laugh. “Good to hear.” I look at Max wearing a puzzled look complete with slouched shoulders.

  “So, Harper, tell me, dear. Do you practice?” Beverly asks as she dishes more chicken to her plate.

  “As in yoga? Yeah, I go three times a week.”

  She laughs. “No, dear, I mean as in our religion.”

  “Oh, I’m not Jewish,” I clarify.

  Max nearly chokes on his food. I look to him to check he’s okay, and when I look back at Beverly, I realize we’ve walked into murky waters.

  “I told you this already, Mother. Besides, doesn’t bother me.” Max places his hand on my back and I offer him a weakened smile.

  “True, but is Harper open to converting? Your father and I always hoped for a Jewish wedding for you.”

  Max pats my arm. “Ma, Harper doesn’t need to convert, and we don’t need to talk about weddings.”

  “Okay, but what about the children you will have?” his mother continues to enquire.

  I choke on my water. Max shakes his head.

  “I mean, Harper must love children if she’s a teacher.” Beverly reaches for my hand.

  “Well, Harper, who is sitting right here,” I answer, “does like children… uh… just now I am focusing on teaching.”

  Beverly bounces her shoulders as if she is satisfied with the answer.

  “How about we stop with the interrogation and talk about something else?” Max suggests before taking a forkful of food into his mouth.

  “Great idea. Do you know who I ran into at book club? Sally Cohen, you know, Melissa’s mo—”

  Max immediately cuts in. “Nice to hear. So, are these apricots in the chicken? A new recipe?”

  I can’t help but feel that Max is trying to change the topic. His mother seems to pick up on that.

  “Oh, Max, don’t be silly. I have been cooking this recipe for years. And it’s apricot jam, actually, a little secret.” She smiles and grabs my arm for a shake as she’s proud of her recipe.

  “The potato kugel is delicious and love the green beans too,” I compliment her as I’m not sure I am gaining any points so far with her. And it matters. It matters to me.

  “Wonderful, dear. Wait until you try my dessert, a chocolate cake. Always a winner.”

  “I love chocolate. Chocolate and sex are the great things in lif—” I stop when I realize what I’m saying and carefully turn my head to Max who has a closed-mouth smile as he finds it amusing and tries to keep his laugh in. I don’t dare to look at his mother.

  I nervously laugh and try to quickly think of a new topic. “So, do you shop at the organic market or the big supermarket?”

  What a random question.

  Beverly leans back in her chair with wine in hand. She seems to be entertained by me. “Both, dear. So, do you and my son just enjoy dinners together or have you both ventured into other types of dates?” She drinks from her wine, satisfied that she is making me feel uncomfortable.

  Yet I answer without thought. “Well, we have breakfast at Smokey Java’s all the time, and we go shopping together—”

  Breakfast dates were probably not the information to share.

  “Oh, so you two have breakfast together too.” Her eyebrows arch as she smiles at us.

  Why do I ramble?

  Max clears his throat. “Did you know straws are really bad?”

  His mother looks puzzled at the change of topic and slightly shakes her head. “What do you mean?”

  “They kill turtles,” Max states and then gives me a proud grin.

  His mother stands and waves a hand at me. “Right. Well, let me grab dessert.”

  The moment she’s out of the dining room, I turn to Max.

  “I am so sorry, I don’t know why I brought sex up and breakfast and I am not really—”

  His hands quickly find my face to frame as his eyes meet mine and that gentle smile that he seems to keep just for me. “Harper, don’t worry. You are fine. I would be concerned if my mother thought I was a virgin.” His smile now turns to a grin.

  “I sometimes ramble when I’m nervous.”

  “I noticed.” His thumb traces my bottom lip before he leans in for a kiss.

  It’s soft and gentle, but his kiss is encouraging and has the calming effect I need. Without thought, I deepen the kiss and claim his mouth to the point that a little flame begins to form in my lower pelvis.

  We reluctantly part and our foreheads touch.

  “Harper, I like you a lot. You know that, right?”r />
  I smile. “Yeah, I think I picked that up when you brought me to meet your mother, and I like you a lot if that wasn’t clear.” It comes out soft in voice as I feel incredibly happy.

  “Come on,” he requests as he grabs my hand and stands.

  I follow him as he leads us out of the dining room.

  “Where are we going? Your mother will be back any second.”

  “It’s okay, and I want to show you something.”

  We arrive in front of a wall of photos in the front hallway near the doorway. I do a quick glance through the photos on the wall and quickly pick up that they’re family photos. Max begins to explain who is in each photo. Grandparents, his sister, mother, cousins, and his father.

  “I can see a resemblance,” I mention as I squeeze his hand.

  The corners of his mouth curve up before he points to a particular photo. I inspect the photo closely. It’s Max with his father standing by a horse. Max looks to be maybe ten years old, but I can tell it’s him. He was an adorable kid.

  “You rode horses?” I ask, surprised.

  “They tried to get me to ride horses. Key word being tried. But I thought you would like that photo.”

  “It’s a sweet photo of you and your father. Thank you for sharing it with me.” I interlace our arms and give his a squeeze as my head leans against his shoulder.

  “My father quickly picked up that horses were not for me and convinced my mother that I should focus on science club or some other activity. Hence why there is a photo of me golfing next to the horse photo.”

  “Sounds like you and he had an understanding.”

  “I’d like to think so. He definitely would be keeping my mother in line tonight. But you’re doing great.” Max affectionately kisses my head.

  His mother calls out that cake is ready, and I mention to Max that I’ll come to them in a second, just want to stop in the ladies’ room.

  After taking a minute to freshen up and having a moment for a few calming breaths, I work my way back to the dining room. I can’t help but overhear their conversation.