Max’s tongue in my mouth is pretty damn awesome.

It’s hard to believe I’m her first kiss with the way she’s owning me right now.

I tip my head, catching one more taste of her before forcing myself to pull away.

Her blue eyes are bright and electrified as her soft breath hits my skin.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes,” she whispers, sounding like she’s caught in a dream that she’s afraid to wake up from.

I grin. “Do you need to get your stuff?”

“No.” She shakes her head and starts to smile. “I don’t own stuff right now. I just want to go, with you. I need to leave before my sisters come out looking for me.”

“You sure?” I brush my fingers down her face.

“They’ll break the spell,” she whispers, gliding her fingers over my hand and pressing my palm into her cheek. “Just let me have today and I’ll face reality later, okay?”

I’m not about to argue with that.

She’s right about the magic.

It’s buzzing between us, making it impossible to refuse her.

Bending down, I collect her mitt and tuck it under my arm before taking her hand and leading her to Mom’s car.

I hold the door open for her and she gives me a giddy smile as she slides into the passenger seat.

As soon as I’m buckled in, I look across at her and grin. She’s still in her uniform, which is marked with dirt and sweat.

“Wanna go clothes shopping?”

She makes a face. “You don’t want to hang out with me in my sweaty, disgusting uniform? What’s your problem, man?”

Firing up the engine, I pull out of the parking lot with a laugh and head for Main Street.

I’m gonna have fun dressing up Max Barlow, and I know exactly where I want to take her.

* * *

Suit Yourself is a secondhand clothing store at the north end of Main Street. Latifa shops there all the time. Not that I want to turn Max into some kind of replica, but I have a feeling she’ll like the stuff she finds in here.

Taking her hand, I thread my fingers between hers, loving the cute blush on her cheeks when she dips her head and fights a grin.

She’s a smitten kitten and it’s making my chest expand in ways it never has before.

We step into the store and I wave my hand at Margo. She’s one of those awesome hippy chicks who has been running this place ever since I moved here. I have no idea how old she is. It’s one of the cases where she could be an old looking fifty or a young looking sixty-fiver. It’s hard to tell.

“Hey, Cairo. Nice to see you.”

“Thanks.” I grin at her.

“Can I help you find anything?”

“Just looking around for now.”

“Okay, well I’ve just put a bunch of new stuff on the racks at the back. You need to let Latifa know. There’s a sequin jacket on the end that will be perfect for your next gig. It’s got her name written all over it.”

“Thanks, Margo, I’ll let her know.”

As we move farther in, the storeowner lays her eyes on Max. She gives me a sly wink before biting her lips together and pretending to be busy at the counter.

I inwardly cringe. She’s assuming that Max is my new girl.

Which she is.

Or at least I want her to be.

But not in the same way.

It’s different. At least it feels different.

I smile at Max when she glances at me.

“Through here.” I point and tug her into the back corner where Latifa and I usually find our clothes.

Max lets out a sigh and then steps up to a rack and starts sliding clothes across.

“You really don’t like shopping, do you?” I cross my arms and study her.

She harrumphs, her upper lip curling as she pulls out something red and immediately puts it back. “It’s just not really my thing. I mean, I’m not one of those amble through the mall for a day kind of people. I walk in, I find something I want, I buy it, and I’m out. The faster the better, you know?” She shrugs and holds a pair of ripped jeans against her body. They look about the right length, so she hangs them over her arm, ready to try them on. “It doesn’t help that the clothes I feel most comfortable in are usually made for guys.”

“You looked pretty good in that homecoming dress,” I murmur.

Her lips twitch with a smile. “I thought you were checking me out.”

“You know my favorite part of your ensemble though, right?”

“What?” She glances at me.

“Those red high-tops.” I grin. “I love that you wore a classy black dress with red high-tops.”

“Yeah, well heels hurt your feet, so…”

I snicker and move up beside her, rifling through the clothes until I see a pink shirt that’s kind of cute.

“How about this?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s pink. I don’t do pink.”

I chuckle, put it back and find a cool plaid one instead—pink free.

Her nose wrinkles when I hold it up, but then she bobs her head. “Sure, why not?” She takes it from me and heads for the changing room. “Feel free to find me a pair of shoes. I’m a size eight.”

I grin, once again surprised by how low-maintenance she seems to be. Most girls are pretty particular about what they wear, and wouldn’t be asking a guy to go pick out some shoes for her.

Heading down the two steps, I go to the shoe section and manage to find a cool pair of boots. They’re pretty worn, but Margo’s put brown polish over the worst patches and they’ve come out okay. They don’t have a heel and they’re a size eight and a half, so hopefully they’ll fit.

“You got any thick socks, Margo?”

“Yeah, look to your right.” I do as she says and pull out some thickish socks before heading up to the changing room.

Max steps out just as I arrive. She’s still buttoning up her plaid shirt and I get a quick look at her white bra.

I swallow and glance away, determined not to be a perv. She has a really nice body, lean and conditioned from all that baseball training, and it makes her curves kind of delectable.

She yanks down on the shirt and looks in the mirror, wiggling her hips to make the tight jeans sit a little better.

“You look good,” I assure her.

And I’m not lying. Those jeans fit her like a glove. She’s got one of those figures that could probably wear anything, but that faded denim with the rips in the knees really suits her. It’s very Max.

She tips her head to study her appearance once more before shrugging. “It’ll do.”

I hold out the boots to her. “Are these okay?”

“Nice pick.” She grins, sitting down to put them on.

She’s pulled the tie out of her hair and the luscious locks roam free on her back before tumbling over her shoulder when she leans forward to do the boots up.

Bending down to collect her uniform, I get a scent of citrus in her hair and my insides buzz with desire.

I want to kiss her again.

Licking my bottom lip, I resist the urge and let her finish lacing the boots in peace.

“I’ll just grab a bag for this stuff,” I murmur, heading for the counter.

Margo hooks me up and then rings up the bill as soon as Max appears beside me.

“So that’s four items, then?”

“Yep.” I nod and then spot a leather bracelet on the counter that will look awesome with the boots Max is wearing. I pick it up to have a closer look. It’s thick and chunky with this cool silver buckle. “Actually we’ll take this too.”

I hand it to Max and she raises her eyebrows in approval before holding out her wrist so I can put it on.

“Not that I really need it,” she mutters.

“Not everything has to be about necessity. It looks cool on you.” I wink at her and pull out my wallet.

“Sorry, I don’t have any money on me.” Max cringes. “I’ll pay you back on Monday.”

I shake my head. “No, you won’t.”

“Uh, yes I will.”

“No, I want them to be a gift.”

Her face buckles with a look of confusion. “You want secondhand clothes to be your gift to me?”

“Yeah.” I grin. “That way, every time you put them on, you’ll think of me.”

Margo rolls her eyes like I’m some try-hard Casanova while I swipe my card and punch in my pin number.

Max, on the other hand, doesn’t know how to respond, so she runs a hand through her hair and looks down at her boots.

Taking the bag of dirty baseball gear off the counter, I grab Max’s hand again and lead her out of the store.

I’m not sure what the rest of the day holds, but if Max keeps letting me hold her hand like this, I almost don’t care what we do.