by Keeland, Vi
“I rest my case.”
Maggie took a deep breath. “Alright. Well, are you ready to get started? We’re on a tight deadline with the printer.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Two hours later, we’d finalized the new ad campaign, and Maggie stood to head back to her office.
When she reached the door, I called after her, “Mags?”
She turned back. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for talking me down.”
“My pleasure.” She winked. “Now I only owe you a million more for all the times you’ve helped me. I’ll be back this afternoon to hear your decision.”
• • •
My supplier meeting ran late, so by the time I got back to the office, people were already leaving for the day. Ellie, my assistant, was putting her jacket on as I walked by her desk.
“Hey, Georgia. I left a delivery that came for you in your office.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you.”
“And I summarized all of your messages in an email. Nothing sounded urgent, but I’m sure you’ll check.”
“Thanks, Ellie. Have a good night.”
I expected to see a brown cardboard box on my desk, the usual delivery of samples or something from Amazon. I was surprised to find a white gift bag, decorated with ribbons. Curious, I didn’t even take off my jacket or sit down before I tore into it.
Inside was a plastic gift box with a pad and pencil set. Upon closer inspection, I noticed both had suction cups attached to them. I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking at. A sample of some sort sent in a pretty bag by a supplier? There was an envelope, so I sliced open the back and slipped out the card.
Georgia,
It’s waterproof. No more slips and falls.
Looking forward to Friday night.
X
Max
Damn it, that Max. Did he have to go and be so great? While a gift like this seemed like it should go in the pros column, there was also a reason to put it in with the cons. Any man who took time out of his day to find me a water-resistant pad and pencil was someone I could grow attached to. Now, if the bag had contained a black-lace teddy, that would actually have seemed safer—that type of gift screamed summer fling only.
So I sat at my desk, staring into space for the next half hour, doing what I did best—analyzing and overanalyzing. Eventually a knock at my door interrupted my thoughts.
Maggie held up two of those tiny bottles of wine you get on an airplane.
“Decision time. I’m going to assume you haven’t come to one—or rather, you haven’t settled into the one you told Max you already made. So I’m here to rip the Band-Aid off. The wine will help take away the sting.”
She plopped down in one of my guest chairs, twisted the cap off one bottle, and passed it to me. Maggie held her bottle out to me to clink. “To being lucky enough to sit in a beautiful office with my best friend whose biggest stress right now is whether to fuck a hot hockey player.”
I laughed. “Thanks. When you put it like that, it seems a tad bit ridiculous how much anxiety this is causing me. Especially after this…” I pushed the gift bag to the other side of the desk and explained the gift as she looked it over.
Maggie put her hand on her lower belly. “I’m pretty sure my ovaries just fluttered. Do you still have that picture of him with no shirt on that I sent you from his phone? That might help lower the sensation to right where I need it.”
I snorted. Even if I was stressing, sharing it all with Maggie at least made it fun.
“So what’s it going to be, girl?” She looked at her watch. “It’s six thirty. I’d say we’re past the end of the business day. Are you going to have a summer to remember or up your battery subscription on Amazon?”
I closed my eyes. My brain still told me to keep my distance from Max Yearwood. Though my body said my head needed to be examined. But for the most part, I’d done really well for myself by using my brain and making logical decisions, hadn’t I? Though not with Gabriel. So maybe it was time to do like Maggie said and have some fun without knowing what tomorrow would bring…
My phone buzzed on my desk, interrupting my thoughts. I swiped to see who had sent me a message.
Max.
Perfect timing.
He’d sent a selfie from the plane. He had a small duffle bag on his lap, with Four’s tiny head peeking out the top while he leaned in and held his finger to his lips, giving the universal shhh sign. His dimples were on full display. It was impossible not to smile.
I turned the screen to show Maggie. “He’s sneaking Four on the team plane to Boston where his nieces live, so they can see him.”
She grabbed the phone out of my hand and looked down at the screen, shaking her head. “I wanted to have you come to a decision on your own. But I’m afraid you’re going to chicken out. So now I’m going to give you my opinion. Have I ever steered you wrong?”
I shook my head.
“Do it, Georgia. He knows the deal. You’re both going into this with your eyes open. I have no doubt you’ll enjoy the shit out of this man, but you also might learn some things about yourself.”
I took a deep breath, picked up my little wine bottle, and drank the entire thing in one gulp. “Okay. I’ll do it. This is going to be one interesting summer.”
CHAPTER 10
* * *
Georgia
I was nervous. And late.
This afternoon, Max had texted that he’d gotten stuck at some photo shoot for a sponsor, and he’d have to meet me at the restaurant for our date. He’d tried to insist on sending a Town Car to pick me up, but I’d convinced him it was faster to take the subway with Friday evening crosstown traffic. However, the block-and-a-half walk from the station in the heels I had on had me wishing I’d relented. But the look on Max’s face as I walked up to the restaurant made the pain from the strap cutting into my pinkie toe worthwhile.
God, he looks so handsome. Max was dressed in dark slacks and a white dress shirt. But the way they fit, I suspected they were probably custom made. Yet it was more than the perfectly tailored clothes and his large stature that caused him to stand out. His stance was just so dominant and confident, with legs spread apart, shoulders squared, and one hand casually tucked into his pocket. Unlike every other person waiting for anything these days, he didn’t have his phone out or earbuds in his ears. He just stood there, waiting and looking around, and when he saw me, his lips curved to a smile. He watched my every step intently.
“Hi,” I said. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late.”
He looked me up and down. “You look incredible. While I was watching you come up the street, I was trying to decide if I want to show you off or wrap my jacket around you so no one else gets to look at you.”
I smiled. “And?”
“I want to show you off. But I might growl at anyone who takes more than a polite look.”
I laughed. “You look very handsome yourself. Though I’m positive my growl isn’t half as scary as yours.” I pointed to the door. “Should we go in?”
Max stepped forward and wrapped one hand firmly around my waist, while the other encircled my neck from the front. “Nope. Want that mouth first. C’mere.”
Before I could respond, his lips were on mine. His tongue dipped inside, and I felt the raging beat of my heart against his hard chest. He kissed me like we were the only two people in the world, even standing on a busy Manhattan street, like he had to kiss me, rather than wanted to. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been kissed hello with so much passion. Sadly for me, I wasn’t sure I’d ever been. As corny as it might sound, the man made my knees weak.
Before releasing me, Max caught my lower lip between his teeth and gave it a tug that I felt between my legs. He used his thumb to wipe beneath my lip as he cleared his throat. “We better go in before I get us arrested out here.”
Inside, the restaurant was dark. We followed the hostess down a long corridor and through another door. Max held out a hand for me to
walk through first, and I was surprised to find we’d stepped outside into a small courtyard. A large tree stood in the center, decorated with strings of twinkling white lights that draped overhead and illuminated the area. Tall bamboo in long planters created individual, secluded dining areas.
The hostess led us into one and held out her hand. “Our wine menu and specialty drinks are on the table.” She pointed to a tall lantern a few feet from the table. “If you get chilly, just let your server know, and we can turn on the heater. I’ll give you a few minutes and then send someone over to take your drink order.”
“Thank you.”
Max pulled out a chair for me.
“This is so unexpected,” I said. “I had no idea there was an outdoor area when we walked in. It’s so pretty. I’m glad I came.”
“Were you considering not coming?”
I hadn’t meant to let on that I’d had doubts, so I tried to sweep my comment under the table. I shook my head. “I wouldn’t have stood you up.”
He cocked his head. “But you were considering not coming?”
Great. Two minutes into the date, and I’d already stuck my foot in my mouth. “I second-guess everything, weighing the pros and cons. It’s my nature. It’s not you.”
“That sounds pretty exhausting.”
I smiled. “It is. I’m trying to work on it.”
“I’m just the opposite. I tend to go with my gut and don’t always think things through enough.” He winked. “I’m trying to work on it. But now I want to hear your pros and cons. I’m curious to find out what tilted things in my favor.”
The waiter walked over, and we hadn’t even picked up the wine menu yet. I looked at Max. “Are you having something?”
He lifted the menu and held it out to me. “No practice tomorrow. You pick a bottle.”
I perused the menu and settled on a full-bodied red. When the waiter disappeared, Max looked at me expectantly.
“What?”
“You were about to tell me about your pros and cons analysis.”
“You just want to hear all the pros to stroke your ego.”
Max grinned. “That would normally be true. But I’m more curious about the cons when it comes to you. If I don’t know what’s broken, I can’t fix it.”
The waiter came back to deliver our wine. After a taste test, he filled both glasses and left us with dinner menus.
“None of the cons were about you, really. The cons were more about me. I’ve never had a no-strings-attached relationship, and I’m not sure I know how.” I sipped my wine. “You said you’ve had hookups before. How do you keep things simple?”
Max shrugged. “I guess we’re both just upfront about what it is we want.”
“Okay.” I looked into his eyes. “Tell me what you want from me.”
Max lifted his wine and drank. His eyes flickered to my lips. “That might get me smacked.”
I laughed. “It won’t. I promise.”
He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I want to spread you out on my bed wearing nothing but those shoes you have on right now and lick you until you beg.”
I swallowed. “I don’t beg.”
A wicked grin spread across Max’s face. “Then you haven’t been eaten properly.”
I felt my face flush, so I grabbed my wine again. But the sparkle in Max’s eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing.
I cleared my throat. “So is that it? What you want from me, I mean? Just sex?”
“I like you, Georgia. I enjoy your company.” His eyes roamed my face. “You’re the one who seems to need things defined. So why don’t you tell me what you want?”
I blushed again. “What you said sounded pretty good.”
Max laughed. “What else do you want, Georgia? Because I get the feeling I could scare you away pretty easily and not even know why.”
“I just want to have fun. I guess, feel free? Do things I’ve been putting off and enjoy this summer.”
He nodded. “I’m game for fun. But tell me what kind of things you’ve been putting off.”
“Do you remember the night we met I mentioned I had a list of things I’d been putting off, and dating was at the top of it? That’s why I forced myself to go on my blind date even though I hadn’t really wanted to?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I actually do have a list. It’s not a bucket list with crazy things like jump out of an airplane or anything that exciting. It’s more about making things I’ve been meaning to do a priority over work and cutting back on overanalyzing. For the last four years, I’ve worked seventy to eighty hours a week, and the highlight of my week has been going to a late dinner on Friday night. A few months ago I hired a director of operations, so now I can delegate more and work less. I want to unplug more, be more spontaneous, stay out all night, watch the sunrise, go to an after-hours club, volunteer somewhere, take a staycation here in the city. I’ve lived here my entire life, and I’ve never even been to the Statue of Liberty or walked the Brooklyn Bridge. I also have dye my hair red on that list.” I shrugged. “I love red hair, and I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“A redhead, huh?” Max smiled. “I think you’d look hot.”
I smiled back. “Thanks.”
He ran his finger along the top of his wine glass. “How about we hit your list together?”
“Really? You want to go to the Statue of Liberty with me?”
Max shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
“Are you truly this easygoing?”
He laughed. “I don’t know about easygoing, but I’m up for an adventure with you.”
“An adventure, huh?” God, why can’t I see things this simply? I bit down on my bottom lip.
Max leaned forward and used his thumb to gently rub it loose. “Don’t overthink it. Just say yes.”
I took a deep breath. “I know you proposed spending the summer together. But could we just see how it goes? It’s less intimidating if it’s…I don’t know…less, I guess.”
“Whatever you want.”
I nodded nervously. “Okay. Screw it. Let’s hit my list.”
“Nice.” He hooked a hand around my neck and pulled me to meet his lips for a kiss. “This might be the first time since I was a kid that I’ve been glad hockey season ended.”
The waiter interrupted to take our order, but yet again we hadn’t even looked at the menu. So we asked for a minute and quickly decided to order two dishes and share them. After we’d ordered, I shifted the conversation to something that wouldn’t freak me out as much as what I’d just agreed to...again.
“So tell me about your photo shoot today? Was it for a sports magazine or something?”
“Underwear ad.” Max shook his head. “I called my agent on the way back and told him that was my last one of those.”
“Why?”
“They wanted me to wear a Velcro strap around my junk. Not just the frank, the beans too.”
I chuckled. “What?”
“Apparently it’s a thing underwear models do to make the package more pronounced.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t doing it.”
I covered my smile with my hand. “Oh my God. What did they say when you refused?”
He shrugged. “They took the pictures. My junk’s just fine on its own.”
“When will the ads run? I’m curious to see them now.”
“They said they would send proofs to my agent in a few days. He negotiated approval rights. But if you’d like to take a look at my junk sooner…”
I laughed. “I was asking for business purposes. If you look good, maybe we can have you hold up some flowers in tightie-whities. I’d need to check out the merchandise before deciding, of course.”
Max winked. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
I drank the rest of my wine. “So how long does a hockey player usually play professionally? I know football players must retire pretty early because of how big a deal everyone makes out of Tom Brady still playing in his forties.”
“Th
e average retirement age in the NHL is something like twenty-nine.”
“Twenty-nine? But that’s your age.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“That’s so young.”
“It’s not by choice. Hockey is rough on the body. Between injuries and joints and ligaments not holding up, a lot of guys are forced out earlier than they’d like. But there’ve been a few dozen guys who have played into their forties. Gordie Howe played until he was fifty-two, but that’s definitely not the norm.”
“Then what? If the average player is done by thirty, what does he do after?”
“Some guys stay in the business—coaching, broadcasting, fitness, that type of thing. Some go into sales. If they have a well-known name, it opens a lot of doors for the company they represent. A lot actually buy businesses. They know the odds of an early retirement are pretty high, so they stash away money and buy into a business once they hang up their skates. I know guys who own gyms, car dealerships, restaurants, a little bit of everything.”
“What do you think you’ll do?”
“I’d like to stay in the sport in some way. But I’d also like to open a small business. My brother Austin was a really talented woodworker, like my dad, who was a carpenter. Do you remember Lincoln Logs?”
“I think so. They came in a bucket and you could build little log cabins, right?”
“Yeah, that’s them. My brother loved them as a kid. He was obsessed with building. When he was maybe ten, he and my dad made big Lincoln Logs together. Life-sized ones my brothers and I used to build forts and stuff in the yard. Austin wanted to make a business out of it. The two years before he went to college, he perfected a set of large-scale pieces and illustrated a book of fifty different structures you could build with just one set of interconnecting wood logs—everything from a swing set to a fort to a tiny two-story house. Most kids love to build, so these were a way to teach them how to build their own stuff. When they’re done, they also have something to play with. And once they grow bored with whatever they build, they can reconfigure it into something else.”
