Jenn shook her head. “Don’t say that. I’ll just get more nervous.”
“Then he doesn’t like you at all, and I hope you two are able to tolerate each other long enough to get through the evening.”
“Thank you.”
One hug later and Jenn was on her way, which meant it was time for Chloe to go, too. Max had promised steaks and wine on the porch, but they both knew what was really going on. Hell, they’d stated it out loud, and Chloe was suddenly very sorry about that conversation. Funny enough on a boat in mixed company. But now? Crap.
Hands shaking, she tugged the hem of her skirt down a little, thankful that she had packed a nice set of underwear. But if this turned into more than one night of fun, Max was going to be exposed to her “Super Hottie!” panties. Or the Tinkerbell ones.
“Definitely Super Hottie,” she muttered to her reflection. Her lips were glossed and her legs shaved. There was nothing to be done about her curvy thighs or slightly chubby cheeks. It was time for sex.
“Okay.” Her face radiated pale uncertainty, so Chloe said it a little louder. “Okay.”
Just as a tiny glimmer of confidence took hold, a knock echoed through the cabin and she jumped and grabbed for the sink before she tipped over.
She’d told Max she’d been a good girl in high school. The truth was that she’d always been good. Always. And look where that had gotten her. Screwed over, knocked around and left on the side of life like roadkill. She was a laughingstock and an infamous bitch, and she didn’t even know what she’d done to deserve it.
Whatever she and Max did tonight, she’d worked hard to earn it. She was going to grab this bull by the horns and enjoy the ride.
Smiling at her naughty pep talk, Chloe snapped off the light and walked toward the screen door.
“Hey, there,” Max said, the words slow and deeply friendly.
“Hey, yourself.”
Max pulled open the door, and before she had a chance to feel awkward, he leaned in for a not-quite-innocent kiss…and Chloe remembered why she’d decided to have sex with him.
His tongue was a hot, rough slide against hers. He tasted minty and sweet, and the way his hands curved over her bare shoulders… Chloe swayed into him, letting her weight settle against his chest.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he said.
An embarrassingly breathy sigh escaped her mouth.
Max grinned and wrapped his hand around hers to lead her down the steps to the sand. He wore shorts and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the tanned skin of his arms. But his feet were bare. Chloe found herself staring at them, at the long bones and wide strength and tan toes.
Lust warmed her belly before spreading out through her limbs, like a flower blooming beneath her skin. Lust inspired by a man’s feet.
“Chloe?” Max ducked down to draw her gaze from the ground. “Are you okay?”
“I am, actually.”
They’d reached his porch, and Max grabbed two glasses of wine from their perch on the railing and gestured toward the steps.
Chloe took a seat and glanced toward the grill. It looked suspiciously inert. Neither smoke nor heat waves shimmered from the air holes. “Is the grill still heating?”
“Oh, I…thought I’d cook on the stove tonight.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Max looked over his shoulder toward the door, then back to the grill. “Um…”
Sipping her wine, she watched as thoughts turned behind his eyes and wondered what he was trying to hide.
He thought for a long moment, his shoulders tightening to rock before he finally answered. “I don’t like the grill.”
“You don’t like this grill?”
“No, I don’t like grills at all. You can turn a stove on and off. A grill stays hot for hours. There are…sparks,” he finished weakly.