Illegal Use of Hands

Chapter 7

"Think that made an impression?" he asked with a grin.

"More like a sinkhole," she told him now that she could catch her breath. "Wow!"

"The guy in your office who glared as if he wanted to shoot me. I take it he's resident asshole?"

She nodded. "That's Kurt."

"Forgive me for saying so, Stacy. That guy even looks like an asshole. I need to talk to you about your taste in men."

"Not today, okay?" How to tell him she really wanted to pretend what they were enjoying was a fun, romantic luncheon and she didn't want to talk about Kurt or anyone else? He'd think her nuts. The whole plan was all pretend and she had to keep that in mind. Even though her brain was still fogged from that kiss.

"I can already tell he's a loser." He hugged her against him and gave her a playful grin. "I'm so much handsomer. And much nicer."

Was he only teasing her? More of his usual Max-type jokes? For an insane moment, she wanted this to be real.

While she wondered, he kissed her on the cheek. Just a gentle brush of lips against her overheated skin, but fire cascaded through her blood as if struck with a match. What went on with her body and Max? He'd kissed her three times, each completely different than the others. And each one had scorched her inside out and made every erogenous zone in her body do an up-tempo happy dance.

With Max?

Good thing they were going someplace with people around. She needed to clear her head.

"You know," she told him, "you don't really have to take me to lunch. I can grab a bite, stay away an appropriate length of time, then go back to the office."

He turned her to face him. "We have a deal," he reminded her. "And I always keep my word. Maybe we should go somewhere people who know the asshole will see us and word can get back to him."

"I just don't want you to—"

He touched the tip of a finger to her lips. "Don't you want to have lunch with me? I think my feelings are hurt."

He looked so cute with his fake pout she couldn't help smiling.

"Of course I want to. You pick the restaurant. I don't care who sees us or not."

He took her to a restaurant called Morrie's. Although the place bustled with the lunchtime crowd, the hostess took time to greet Max.

"Hey, handsome." She turned her cheek to his for a light peck. "You always brighten up this place when you come in."

"Thanks, Gwen." He pulled Stacy forward. "Meet Stacy Halligan."

Gwen gave her a practiced smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Got our table ready?" Max asked.

The woman eyed Stacy with blatant interest but nodded.

"I do. Just follow me."

Stacy had never been there before so, as they made their way to a table in the corner, she took in all the details. She noted the quiet ambience, muted conversation, the understated elegance of tables draped in white linen, the carved wainscoting on the walls, and the recessed lights.

"Very nice," she said when they were seated.

"I like it. The food's great, and it's quiet enough to have a decent conversation."

She scanned the room, curious. "Is Morrie's one of your usual hangouts?"

Max laughed. "I don't have hangouts, Stacy. Unless you consider my townhouse. Just places I like to go."

A few other customers spotted him, nodded, and smiled. "People know you here. Aren't you worried they might misconstrue you being with me?"

"I don't care who sees us." He reached for one of her hands. "Do you?"

"No. Of course not. I only meant—"

"Quit worrying. I have a plan and I'm sticking to it. Now." He released her hand and opened his menu. "Let me tell you what's really good here."

Max insisted on ordering a glass of wine for her. She was wound so tight, he feared she might release like a spring.

"One glass," he coaxed. "Your favorite."

He desperately wanted one himself only he couldn't afford to make a careless mistake. Too much depended on what happened going forward. A good field general had his wits about him at all times.

So far, his plan was right on track. He'd shocked the hell out of her with the hot kiss in her office. And telling himself it was all for show was a big fat lie. A good quarterback had to be able to read the field and know when certain plays were called for. Besides, he'd wanted to make sure the electric sizzle from the night before hadn't been a mistake. Or his imagination.

Seeing her in her work environment, desk stacked with projects, gave him a better picture of her. Especially her coworkers' stunned expressions when he swept in, gave her a kiss to sizzle the air, and hauled her off to lunch. He was not one of those athletes who gorged on his celebrity , but if he could use it to make Stacy's life more exciting, maybe, along the way, he'd show her they belonged together. The candy that morning had already started the gossips buzzing. He hoped his appearance at her office ramped it up. And not just because she deserved it.

Had her total immersion in her job blunted her ability to make smart choices where men were concerned? If so, fine, because it gave him the opening he'd been waiting for.

When she'd first moved in next door and figured out who he was, he'd waited for the usual reactions. It stunned him when she didn't try to get her picture taken with him, wasn't jonesing to meet the other players, and actually liked to talk football with him. Stacy offered a refreshing change from the women who gravitated to him.

Okay, friends, he'd thought. Good. Someone he could relax around. b***h about stuff to. He even ignored his initial reaction to her because he liked hanging out with her in a no-pressure situation.

Max couldn't have said exactly when he realized, at least for him, what they were doing had turned into a whole lot more. It was so easy to be with her—he didn't have to be anyone but himself—that his attitude changed before he even realized it. He made sure he didn't give her any hint of his feelings. She was always hot after these metrosexual losers, and he felt her pain as one after the other of the so-called relationships turned out to be duds.

Then, one day, he realized he had a much harder time concealing his feelings for her. He wanted her, physically and emotionally. They fit. However, he still had no idea how to convince her of that without ruining what they already shared. Fate had dropped an opportunity into his lap, though, and he planned to make the most of it.

Electricity crackled between them if she'd only give it half a chance. Those incendiary kisses really blew his mind. Man, the woman had a hot mouth and a tongue like velvet. So pretty, sexy, funny, the complete package. The men in this town must have their heads up their asses if they didn't appreciate her.

But good for me, or I might never have been able to make this happen. And I'm not just in it for show.