Max scanned the tickets from his phone, and they found their seats inside the movie theater. This was one of those new theaters with reserved seats and big comfortable chairs, and when they sat down, they grinned at each other.
“Can you believe we put up with those old, narrow movie theater chairs for so long?” Max said to her.
“You read my mind,” she said as she reclined her chair. “These are great.”
He reclined his chair to meet hers, and handed her the popcorn.
“Don’t let me eat so much popcorn I ruin my dinner,” he said.
She laughed.
“If you were that hungry, we could have stopped on the way here. Or gotten you your own popcorn.”
He shook his head.
“I’m actually not that hungry—I ate so many of those cookies they give you on the plane, but it’s easy to eat an enormous amount of popcorn without even thinking about it.”
When the trailers started, Olivia relaxed into her chair. She barely cared what was on the screen; it was just nice to be out, in this comfortable chair, with Max next to her. Their arms touched as they lay on the armrests, and it felt soothing. Comforting. For just a moment, she could believe that someday her career and life would be in order again. She moved her hand just a tiny bit closer to his, and he immediately wove his fingers together with hers. She had a sudden instinct to pull her hand away—this felt too . . . boyfriend-like. She didn’t want a boyfriend, and she especially didn’t want someone like Max Powell for a boyfriend. He was too high profile, too full of himself, too high maintenance for her. And she was sure he didn’t want someone like her for a girlfriend. But she couldn’t bring herself to let go of his hand. So they watched the rest of the movie like that, hand in hand.
She forced herself to let go of his hand when the credits started.
“What did you think?” he asked her as they walked to the car.
“Oh, I liked it,” she said. “It wasn’t great filmmaking or anything, but I was entertained from beginning to end and didn’t look at the time once. That’s all I ask for in a movie.”
Granted, she didn’t know if the reason she didn’t look at the time was because of the movie or because she’d been with him, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Right there with you.” He opened the car door for her. “Any thoughts on where, or what, you want to eat?”
She was suddenly starving.
“Somewhere we don’t have to wait for hours—lunch feels like forever ago.”
He nodded as he drove out of the parking lot.
“Agreed—maybe it was because they kept eating in that movie.”
They tossed around restaurant ideas as they drove in the general direction of her place, until she saw a sign up ahead.
“Can you believe I haven’t been to In-N-Out since I’ve been back to California?”
He immediately threw on his blinker, just like she knew he would.
“Are you serious? That feels sacrilegious. Let’s go.”
He started to pull into a parking spot, but she stopped him.
“No, let’s go through the drive-through—it’s probably packed inside. We can eat at my place.”
He put his hand on hers.
“Olivia Monroe, you’re the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met.”
She laughed at him, but damn was this man getting to her. Every time he looked at her, she wanted him to touch her. Every time he touched her, she wanted it to last longer. And now, he was coming back to her place, to touch her, she hoped, for a very long time.
She stopped herself. No, Olivia, don’t build it up too much—sure you haven’t had sex for months, but you haven’t even kissed this guy. Just because he has a good head of hair and a sexy smile doesn’t mean he knows what to do with his body . . . or yours. Okay, but it had the potential to be good, didn’t it? He paid attention when she talked, and he clearly liked looking at her. That was honestly half the battle for most men—if he could listen when she said Yes, no, right there, YES, he had the advantage over about eighty percent of men.
Maybe ninety.
When they got back to her place, Olivia led him to the kitchen, and picked up the bottle of red wine on her kitchen counter.
“Wine? I have white wine in the fridge if you want that. I’m not sure which one goes better with In-N-Out, though.”
His eyes lingered on her, and her whole body tingled.
“Whichever one you’re having,” he said.
She took two wineglasses down from the cabinet and opened the red wine. He didn’t jump to try to open it for her, thank God. She enjoyed it when men opened doors for her and all of that, but too often men tried to take over every damn thing from women in the interest of “chivalry,” and Olivia hated that. She poured two glasses, and led him into the living room.
“Let’s sit in here,” she said. “It’s more comfortable than the kitchen stools at the counter, and I don’t have a kitchen table yet.”
He followed her into the living room with the food and sat down next to her on the couch. Very close to her on the couch.
“A car, a kitchen table, what else do you still have to buy?”
She laughed as she took their food out of the bags.
“Oh, probably a million things. A new wardrobe, for that matter—all of my clothes are too dark and too formal for L.A. I think the only time I’ve seen anyone in a suit since I got here was that luncheon, and that was only you and a handful of other lawyers.”
He squeezed out ketchup for both of them and picked up a fry.
“Has it been hard? The transition?” he asked.
Yes, much harder than she’d expected.
“Not really,” she said. “Maybe at some point it will be, but for now, it’s all a new adventure, you know? And it’s a relief to be back in California.”
She took a bite of her burger so she wouldn’t be able to answer any more questions, and maybe he got the hint, because so did he.
“Ahh, that hit the spot,” he said when he finished his burger. “I haven’t been in months and it was just what I was in the mood for. Thank you for suggesting it.”
He took a sip of wine and smiled at her over his wineglass, and she felt that electricity between them again. She must be really attracted to this man, because usually right after she finished a cheeseburger was when she felt the least sexy possible, but for some reason, being with Max Powell was the exception.
“Okay, so, list of things Olivia still has to do in L.A.: buy a car, buy a kitchen table, buy a whole new wardrobe. Anything else?”
Olivia picked up her wineglass and took another sip as Max looked down at her. Had he gotten even closer to her on the couch, or was it just her imagination?
“Oh, I’m sure there are so many more things. Go to the beach—I haven’t done that once since I’ve moved back. I’ve always wanted to go to the Getty museum and have never been. Oh, and Disneyland—I’ve always loved it there, but I haven’t been in a long time. I know it’s super touristy, but I’ve never gone up to see the Hollywood sign—the problem is I feel like you have to hike to do that, and I definitely don’t have hiking clothes. Or, like . . . a hiking mentality. Or . . .”
Max plucked her wineglass out of her fingers and set it down on the table. The look in his eyes made her feel breathless.
“I have one more thing to put on your list. But you can check it off anytime you want.” He trailed his fingers along her jaw and drew her even closer to him.
“Oh? What’s that?” She hadn’t meant to whisper, but then she hadn’t expected him to make her tremble. She put her hand on his knee. God, why did it feel so good to touch him?
He leaned in, inch by inch, until their lips were a hairsbreadth apart.
“Kiss me,” he said.
And she did.
His lips were soft and gentle . . . at first. But after a few moments of light, tender kisses, he slid his hands into her hair and pulled her hard against him. She threw herself into the
kiss, kissing him harder, deeper. She could tell he liked it, so she did it again, until he pulled her on top of him so she was straddling him. Now she could really tell he liked it. He leaned down to kiss her neck—this man had good instincts, God did she love being kissed there. She took the opportunity to run her fingers through his thick hair, and felt him sigh and then kiss her harder.
She reached down and tugged his shirt out of his jeans, and ran her hands up and down his back. He pulled her head back down to his and kissed her hard, but as they kissed, he reached around and took her hands in his.
Did he not want her to touch him there? Or touch him at all? No, she was on his lap right now, he clearly liked it when she touched him and kissed him, but as tactful as it had been he’d definitely removed her hands from his back.
She pulled away and looked at him. He certainly looked like he was enjoying himself. All flushed, with swollen lips and unfocused eyes.
“Do you want to move to my bedroom?” she asked, just as he said, “I should probably go.”
As soon as Olivia realized what he’d said, equal amounts of rage and humiliation rushed over her.
“I see,” she said.
She scrambled off his lap and tugged her dress down.
He touched her arm, but she pulled away and stood up.
“I think you’re right,” she said. “You should probably go.”
Was this somehow fun for him? Had last time not been an emergency, but instead just a way for him to get off on leading her on?
“No, wait, Olivia . . .” He sighed. “I should have done this earlier, but you’re so . . . well, I got carried away. This isn’t . . . I really . . .” He stopped and closed his eyes for a second and then looked at her. “I did this all wrong, but can you let me explain?”
All she wanted was to pick him up bodily and throw him out her front door, but (a) she didn’t think she was strong enough for that, and (b) she was pretty sure that was a federal offense. Honestly, right now, (a) was the more significant issue for her. Note to self: take some weight lifting classes.
But as she glared at him, her rage faded. Slightly. He looked so contrite, so eager to say whatever it was he wanted to say. She still felt like this was a trick, that the politician in him was going to come out and give her some bullshit speech he’d given a million other women. But he’d asked if he could explain, without just launching straight into his “I don’t want to sleep with you” stump speech, and maybe that was part of the act, but it was just enough for her.
She sat back down on the corner of the couch and pointed to the opposite corner.
“Sit there. You have exactly three minutes.” She dug her phone out of her pocket and opened the timer. “Starting . . . now.”
Max sat down where she’d pointed.
“I just thought maybe we should get to know each other better, that’s all,” he said.
Olivia rolled her eyes and stood back up.
“I lied, you don’t get three minutes after all. That’s seriously all you can do? Didn’t you just tell me you were good at talking to people? I get it, you’re not interested, and this whole night was some bullshit, but you don’t have to keep bullshitting me just to protect your reputation or whatever. Trust me, I won’t tell anyone about this.”
Max leapt off the couch and reached for her hand, but stopped just short of grabbing it.
“No, I swear, that’s not it, that’s the opposite of it. I’m really not lying, I do want to get to know you better, but . . .”
This man clearly thought she was as gullible as every other woman he’d done this to. That whole listening-to-her-and-taking-her-seriously thing had just been an act.
Max looked at the undoubtedly skeptical expression on her face and stopped.
“You’re not buying this, are you?” he asked.
She shook her head. Why had she even given him a chance to “explain” anyway?
“Okay, okay.” He took a deep breath. “The real story is that . . . shit, I only had three minutes and it’s probably closer to two now so I’m going to rush through this, but the short version is I really like you. That’s why I want to get to know you better. I like you so much that . . . oh God, it’s so embarrassing to tell you this, but I should have figured out something else to say in advance and I didn’t and I’m wasting my minutes, and I think you probably won’t believe anything but the truth right now so I just have to say it: I told a friend of mine—a congressman, he’s my roommate in DC, anyway that’s not important—I told him about you, and he made me promise not to sleep with you yet.”
Olivia dropped back down on the couch.
“He what?”
That was definitely not the bullshit answer she’d thought she was going to get.
“I know, I know.” Max sighed and sat next to her. “We’ve been friends for a long time, he knows me well, and when I told him that I really liked you and I thought we might be able to have something real, he said . . .”
Olivia held up a hand to stop him. This was . . . not what she’d expected to hear. It was not what she’d expected of Max at all, as a matter of fact.
“You really like me? You told him we might . . . I didn’t think . . . We met at a bar! I thought this whole thing was just a prelude to get me into bed! Are you looking for a girlfriend?”
He looked down, his cheeks pink.
“Yeah, actually. I mean, I wasn’t exactly actively looking—I wasn’t scouting the bar that night for girlfriend material, if that’s what you mean. But yeah, that’s something I want to have in my life.”
She’d been sure he just wanted a fling. One night, maybe a few more, nothing serious.
“Anyway, when I met you, I was immediately interested. I went back to the bar the next day to look for you, but Krystal said you were gone.”
“You did?”
The timer went off. Olivia picked up her phone and silenced it.
“I did,” he said. “That’s one reason why I was so happy to see you at the luncheon. I don’t just send cakes to anyone, you know!”
All Olivia could do was stare at him. This night was not going the way she’d expected. On so many fronts.
“As I think I’ve mentioned, I have a tendency to be kind of impulsive sometimes,” he said. “And so I thought—Wes thought—I shouldn’t get in too deep, too fast. But if that’s not what you’re looking for, if you’re not interested in me like that, I get it.”
He stood up, but Olivia reached for his hand and pulled him back down.
“I wasn’t saying that . . . I mean, I wasn’t not saying that . . . I’m just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t realize . . .” She threw her hands in the air. “I just thought you were trying to get into my pants! Which, if it wasn’t clear, you were succeeding at!”
Max dropped his face into his hands again.
“Please, don’t remind me, or I’ll lose all of my willpower here.” Then he looked straight into her eyes. “Not that I don’t want to get into your pants, because good God do I ever. As I assume you noticed.”
Olivia smirked at him. She had noticed, as a matter of fact, but when he pulled away, she’d sort of forgotten all about that.
He grinned back at her, and then his smile faded.
“If this isn’t what you want, I completely understand, and no hard feelings. It’s especially tricky because of my job—I don’t know if you want to sign up to be a senator’s girlfriend. And hell, I don’t even know if you’re interested in me like that.” He paused and looked at her. Shit, she’d sort of forgotten about that part. She was only really thinking about the Max in front of her, not the senator part of him.
“Anyway, I’m not asking you for anything huge now, or any sort of commitment or anything like that. But I am telling you that I like you a hell of a lot, Olivia Monroe. I like everything about you, I like spending time with you, I like laughing with you, especially when you’re laughing at me, I like eating pie with you, and I really, really liked kissing you. Do you . . . will
you give me a chance?”
Olivia looked at him for a long beat. His hair was still tousled from their kisses, his shirt had a lipstick smear on it, and his eyes were the puppiest of puppy dog eyes. Damn it, how could he give her those eyes and still look so sexy?
“Can I think about this?” she asked. “I didn’t expect any of this, and I’m just . . . I need to think.”
He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips before he stood up.
“I understand,” he said. “But I’m going to hold next Saturday night for you. Just in case.”
When she closed the front door behind him, she could still feel the pressure of his lips against hers.
She had a hell of a lot to think about.
Chapter Six
Olivia got to work on Monday morning and walked straight into Ellie’s office.
“If this is about the Dewan case, I just sent you an email about it,” Ellie said, without looking up from her computer.
Olivia dropped two cups of coffee on Ellie’s desk, one for each of them. This was probably at least Ellie’s fourth cup of coffee. Ellie always got to work at the crack of dawn so she could hang out with her kid after work; Olivia was happy to check email from bed, roll into the office closer to ten, and stay late. It made them a good pair, especially since neither of them judged the other for her schedule.
“I saw the email while I was on the bus and responded, that’s not what this is about.” She dropped down into the chair on the other side of Ellie’s desk. “Finish what you’re doing; I need your full attention for this.”
Ellie looked at Olivia for the first time since she’d walked into the room. That mischievous look of glee Olivia remembered from law school came over her face.
“Ooooh, I like the sound of that. Okay, hold on just one second.”
Olivia had thought about Max’s bombshell all weekend as she tried to get work done while she sat on the same couch where she’d almost pulled off his clothes. Finally, she’d given up and left the house to go for a walk. She was so turned upside down by their conversation and the thoughts swirling around in her brain that when she’d walked by a gym, she wandered inside and joined it. It was probably just the glittery pink sign outside that got her.
Party of Two: The brilliant opposites-attract rom-com from the author of The Proposal! Page 8
