As it turned out, I had no reason to worry that night. Lillian's wedding plans and questions about her unexpected pregnancy dominated the conversation at the dinner table, with her mother and Millicent asking question after question. I had nothing to contribute to the conversation, so I stayed silent.

The men had their talk, too, all about football—college and pro. I was just as lost there, too. And so was Josh, from what I could tell. While Max laughed and joked with the other men about their teams—it seemed like his team was doing better than theirs, though I couldn’t keep track of all the names they dropped—Josh stayed quiet. I wondered what was bothering him, but it was a vague question in the back of my mind.

Maybe it was the way Max rarely stopped touching me—his hand on my knee, occasionally picking up my hand to kiss the back of it. He’d lean in to kiss my cheek every so often, or rest his hand on the back of my neck. Even though I wasn’t part of his conversation, I was always on his mind.

And I. Ate. It. Up.

Was I being smug? Eh, maybe a little, but it wasn't every day when I had the most handsome man at the table all over me. I’d have to write a letter to Santa and tell him I’d understand if he didn’t bring me anything that year. Christmas had come early.

“I think the two of you are just adorable,” Millicent murmured with a warm smile. She sat at the foot of the table, with me on her right. From the corner of my eye, I could see Lillian turn to stare at me. The spotlight was finally off her and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Thanks. He’s just too much, isn’t he?” I deliberately gushed.

She gave Max a fond look. “It’s so nice to see him looking happy for once. I’m glad he finally found the right girl.”

Wow, somebody up there was trying to tempt me, weren’t they? I glanced over at Max, who was deep in conversation about the playoffs, then leaned in to whisper to Millicent “What’s the story there?”

“Oh, you know men like him. Too busy to settle down.” She laughed it off, then went back to her conversation about flower arrangements or place settings or whatever the new topic was. My eyes fell on Lillian as I turned back to my food. She could try to hide how irritated the sight of Max and me made her, but she was a pretty poor actress. I didn’t let her know I noticed her, but wrapped an arm around Max’s ridiculously thick bicep and kissed his smooth-shaven cheek. I was already having a lot more fun than I ever imagined.

* * *

“I thought they’d never let us go to bed,” Max said when we finally reached the bedroom.

We’d sat around the table for three solid hours, then spent another two hours by the fire over drinks and decaf and even more talk of the Wedding of the Year. I felt like I had already attended it, only I didn’t even have a party favor to take home with me.

I had caught myself yawning more than once, then started biting the side of my tongue to keep from offending anyone when a yawn sneaked up on me.

I sat on the bed with a heavy sigh, tired in my bones. “No offense to them, but I thought older people went to bed earlier. Maybe I’m an old lady in a young woman’s body.”

“Yeah, ya are.” He smirked at me from the closet, where he was hanging up his blazer.

“I’ve been in these shoes all day,” I murmured, kicking them off.

“You and shoes,” he chuckled.

“Stop being a pain in the ass.”

He walked over to where I sat. A slow burn started in my toes and started working its way up my legs. I held my breath. What was he going to do? I watched, waiting, my heart racing so fast I thought it would explode. He had to hear it racing. How did he not hear it racing? I was surprised people in other rooms couldn’t hear it.

When he sank to his knees, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Gently, he took one of my feet in his hands and, without saying a word, started massaging it. I prayed like I had never prayed before that it wasn’t sweaty, or worse, smelly. Talk about a mood killer. I watched him like a hawk, but he didn’t recoil in horror, or throw up in his mouth. So I figured I was good.

And so was he. Oh, was he ever good at a foot massage. “Do you work part-time in a spa or something?” I whispered, closing my eyes.

“No,” he murmured with a laugh.

“A massage parlor?”

“Not for a long time. I got tired of the happy ending stuff.”

I giggled, even as fire blazed and crackled in my core. He sparked something deep inside me, something I didn’t want to ignore any longer.

I let out a soft moan, and when he looked up and our eyes locked, I curled and uncurled one finger. Beckoning, inviting, wanting.

He knelt between my legs, hands sliding up my legs as he straightened up. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him in closer while winding my arms around his neck. My nostrils filled with the scent of aftershave and soap and that heady smell that was Max. Was it really happening? Were we going to take that big leap together?

Yes.