“I didn’t order that.”

“I did.”

He did? When?

I decided not to ask and informed him, “I don’t drink lager.”

“What?”

I dipped my head to the beer. “I said, I don’t drink lager.”

“What do you drink?”

“Ale, bitter, stout.”

“So, you’re sayin’ you don’t drink American beer, you drink English beer.”

“There are lagers that aren’t American. Heineken. Stella. Beck’s. In fact,” I went on informatively, “I think lager was invented by the Germans. In fact, I think beer, on the whole, was invented by the Germans.” I didn’t actually know this for a fact, I was just guessing.

“Jesus,” he muttered, dropping his head.

“What?”

He looked back at me. “Duchess, you can argue about anything.”

“No I can’t.”

“So, now you’re arguin’ about not arguing?”

I decided to be quiet.

Max twisted and shouted, “Trudy!”

Trudy turned from the table she was standing at, hands up, notepad in one, pencil in the other, table of tourists interrupted in mid-order and she shouted back, “What?”

“You got any ale?” Max asked and I shrunk into the booth.

“Ale?” Trudy asked back.

“Ale.”

“I think so, sure.”

“Get the Duchess here one, will you?” he called, dipping his head toward me.


Her eyes slid to me, she smiled and shouted, “Sure thing.”

At the same time I leaned forward and hissed, “Max!”

He turned back to me and asked, “What?”

“Don’t call me Duchess in front of Trudy.”

He grinned and replied, “All right, you tell me how old you are, I won’t call you Duchess in front of Trudy.”

I looked at the ceiling and asked, “Why? Why me, Lord? What did I do?”

My body went stiff and my chin jerked down when I felt Max’s fingers curl around the side of my neck and I saw that he’d gotten close. Not only did I see he’d gotten close, his face had grown soft and he looked amused and the combination was phenomenal. So phenomenal, I held my breath.

His eyes dropped to my mouth and my lungs started burning.

“Christ, you’re cute,” he muttered.

“Max!” I heard a man yell, Max’s head turned and I let out my breath.

Then Max muttered under his, “Fuck.”

I looked into the restaurant to see a tall man with a handsome, open, boyish face, light brown hair and a lanky frame headed our way. He was smiling.

At his side walked a tall woman, thin and utterly beautiful in a very cool way. Flawless skin. Long, ebony hair, perfectly straight and gleaming, parted severely and then pulled back just as severely in a ponytail at her nape. She also wore no makeup. She had on almost the same thing as Becca this morning except her poofy vest was less poofy and was a muted, sage green and her shirt wasn’t a thermal, it was long sleeved, ribbed and dusky blue. She and the man were holding bottles of beer, Coors Light to be precise.

Her eyes were on Max and she was not smiling.

Then her eyes slid to me and for some bizarre reason her expression turned glacial.

“Max, didn’t know you were back in town,” the man remarked sociably as they made it to our table and stopped.

Max slid out of the booth and shook his hand. “Harry.”

Harry looked at me and greeted, “Hey.”

“Hello,” I replied.

“Nina, this is Harry,” Max said then jerked his head to the woman and I noticed Max was also not smiling, “and this is Shauna.”

Shauna? Shauna with a U of the password on Max’s computer? No wonder her look was glacial.

Oh my God.

“Hello, Shauna,” I said, trying to cover my surprise and discomfort.

Her eyes grazed over me and she said to the wall at my side, “Hello.”

“Man, it’s packed tonight,” Harry noted, looking behind him. “They’re clearing our table, you mind if we hang here with you while they do?”

Then without allowing Max to answer, he shoved our coats and my purse to the side and slid in the booth opposite me. Shauna’s entire face grew so tight I thought it’d split open but Harry just grabbed her hand and pulled her in, oblivious to her state of mind. Or maybe he didn’t know his partner’s name was the password on Max’s computer and all that implied.

I looked up at Max and saw just his mouth had grown tight but his face had grown that scary dark I’d seen the first night I met him. Nevertheless, without a word he slid in beside me.

“So, Nina, you come back with Max?” Harry asked me.

“Back?” I asked him.

“Yeah,” Harry said, grinning a somewhat goofy grin.

“Um…” I replied, answering his confusing question the only way I could, “no.”

“Nina rented the house,” Max told Harry and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, fuckin’ great house,” Harry remarked then took a drink of his beer.

“It is,” I agreed, not knowing what to do in this situation and hoping the icicles Shauna was so obviously willing to shoot out her eyes and pierce my flesh wouldn’t actually form.

“Pretty unbelievable, Max built it himself,” Harry said.

I stopped trying not to look at Shauna without looking like I was trying not to look at Shauna and my eyes shot to Harry.

“I’m sorry?”

“The A-Frame, Max built it himself from the ground up,” Harry informed me and my eyes moved to Max.

“You did?” I breathed, actually breathed. Then again, I was surprised. And impressed.

“Designed it too,” Harry went on before Max, who’d turned his head to me, could reply.

“He did not,” Shauna put in coldly and I looked back at them.

“Well, Rudy helped,” Harry grinned, seemingly impervious to her frosty demeanor. “He looked over the plans.”

“Rudy’s an architect,” Shauna told me with great emphasis on her last word. “He more than helped.”

I decided Shauna seemed kind of like a bitch.

“Still,” I said, “building it, that’s –”

Shauna cut me off. “He didn’t totally build it.”

“Yeah, those windows would be hard to get in all by himself, but the rest of it –” Harry said.

Shauna looked at Harry. “He didn’t do the wiring.”

Harry looked at Max. “I thought you did.”

Again before Max could reply, Shauna put in, “Not all of it.”

Before anything more could be said, my eyes on Shauna, I swiftly and firmly declared, “Doesn’t matter, laying a single stone to create that beautiful house would be impressive. The whole place is perfect.”

Shauna’s eyes locked with mine and we went into stare down. The stare down was interrupted by Max sliding his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side. Both Shauna and I broke contact, me because I was shocked at his familiar hold, Shauna because she was clearly infuriated by it.

I tipped my head back to look at Max to see his head was tilted down to look at me.

“You think my house is beautiful?” he asked softly.

I was struck by something in his eyes, something intense and mesmerizing, and the restaurant faded away.

“Well… yes, because it is,” I replied just as softly.

“Hey, you’re English,” Harry butted in and I watched up close as Max’s jaw hardened and his eyes sliced to Harry.

I looked at Harry too and unlike Max I was glad, for my sanity mostly, that Harry had butted into our little moment. It was a nice little moment and it made me feel warm all over, something I knew I shouldn’t feel.

“Not exactly,” I said to Harry, “I just have a hint of an accent because I live there.”

“Whoa!” Harry burst out and such was his surprise at this news his body slammed back into the booth. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Harry’s eyes darted between Max and I and he asked, “You live in England, how did you two hook up?”

“Long story,” Max’s gravelly voice replied in a way that said that particular long story was not going to be told now or ever to Harry but more than likely especially to Shauna.

Harry belatedly took the hint and asked me instead, “What do you do in England?”

“I’m a solicitor.”

“A what?” Harry asked.

“It’s what the English call an attorney,” I explained and I felt Max’s hand tighten on my shoulder.

“Cool!” Harry exclaimed. “Like, ‘Order in the court!’ and ‘I object!’”

“Not exactly, I’m not a barrister, I’m a solicitor. I don’t often see court.”

“Come again?” Harry asked, looking somewhat adorably confused.

It was then I decided that Harry was a bit of a goof but I liked him.

“It’s different there,” I explained. “I’m not a litigator. I don’t try cases in court very frequently and when I do they’re usually minor ones, like small claims. Mostly, I write letters and such.”

“Bummer,” Harry muttered, looking crestfallen.

I grinned at him and said, “They’re good letters and some of them are really long.”

Max chuckled, Harry grinned and Shauna was still trying to get her eyes to form icicle daggers.

Suddenly Shauna’s gaze shifted to Max and she asked, “You talk to Dodd?”

For some reason this made Harry’s good-natured demeanor slip a notch and he muttered, “Shauna.”

But at the same time Max answered, “Nope.”

“You should talk to him,” Shauna advised.

“Yeah, you’ve told me that a fuckin’ hundred times,” Max said, his voice kind of scary, not overtly so but the threat was definitely there.

Shauna ignored it, looked at me and announced, apropos of nothing, “Max’s Dad gave him that land.”

“Really?” I asked, puzzled at the turn of conversation.

“It’s great land. Beautiful,” Harry tried to lighten the mood again. “Thirty whole acres of God’s country.”

“Yeah,” Shauna answered me, foiling Harry’s attempt to lighten the mood. “He didn’t buy it or anything.”

Max’s arm tightened around me, bringing me closer as I murmured the only response I could come up with, “Oh.”

“No way, considering it’s worth millions and he doesn’t have that,” Shauna went on.

I blinked at her in surprise, not only that Max owned millions of dollars worth of land but the nasty way she shared that fact as Harry whispered, “Shauna.”

“Can’t afford the taxes on it, that’s why he rents the house,” Shauna went on and I stared.

Max’s entire body tightened, I sat up straighter in the curve of his arm and Harry hissed, “Shauna!”

She shrugged, her gaze skittered over Max as if afraid of catching his eye and she muttered, “Just sayin’, she’s with him, she likes that house, she should know.”

“Maybe we –” I started to change the subject but Shauna plucked up her courage and looked at Max.

“Saw you with Becca today.”

This was an accusation. I knew it because her gaze slid to me to catch my reaction.

And, frankly, I’d had enough. Shauna wasn’t kind of a bitch, she was a bitch. I didn’t think I’d ever met a bigger one.

“Yes, Becca’s lovely,” I announced, curling into Max’s body but not taking my eyes from Shauna. “I met her this morning, she came by when Max was making me breakfast.”

When I mentioned Max making me breakfast, the cold snap emanating from Shauna reduced the temperature of the entire restaurant by a whole ten degrees. It was a wonder I didn’t shiver.

I ignored it and the frosty look on her face and looked up at Max. He was scowling at Shauna so, to get his attention, I placed my hand on his chest. I was interrupted from feeling the fact that his chest was as hard as his bicep and fortunately also interrupted from the instant impulse to explore that feeling further when his chin dipped down to look at me.

Yes, his face was dark and scary. He was angry, maybe even furious.

I ignored that too and said quietly, “I don’t want to seem ungrateful but my oatmeal was kind of… too sweet.”

He wasn’t following, likely because he was too angry. “Too sweet?”

I pressed my hand against his chest, cuddled closer and whispered, “Too sweet. Four sugars? Um…” I trailed off as his face cleared and he grinned.

“I’ll make it with three tomorrow, Duchess,” he whispered back.

“More like, one.”

His brows went up. “One?” I nodded and his arm tightened again but he also pulled me up his body as he leaned down so my face was closer to his and still whispering, he said, “That’s the way you like it, that’s the way you’ll get it.”

I was so busy watching his mouth form the words and experiencing feeling my front pressed to his hard body at the same time I was wrapped tight in his arm, I almost missed Shauna making a weird noise in the back of her throat.