CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Max’s hands were poised over the keyboard. “So start brainstorming and I’ll just type everything down. You can go through the list later and decide if they stay.”
This was real progress. Carrie had accepted his apology and they were getting to know one another. He couldn’t wait to tell Mike and Nate that he’d opened up and it hadn’t been that bad.
Carrie’s fingers fiddled with the stem of the wine glass. “I guess…he should be kind.”
“Kind to animals? Children? The elderly?”
Pressing her lips together, she rolled her eyes. “To everyone.”
He began to type but then stopped. “Even people who aren’t nice to you? Wouldn’t that make him either a dolt or a jerk? Why would he be kind to someone who isn’t kind to his soulmate? It doesn’t make sense to me.”
“I thought we were just brainstorming.”
“It was just a question.”
He wasn’t sure why the answer was important to him.
“It was three questions, actually. Let’s just say that I want him to be kind in the general sense and move on.”
“Fine,” he said shortly. “It’s your list.”
“I would want someone who takes care of himself.”
She was so vague in her answers. Jesus, he’d been specific. Black lingerie and Baked Alaska. It didn’t get much more definitive than that.
“Emotionally? Physically? Spiritually?”
“All three.”
Of course, he should have known without asking. “Quite the paragon of virtue you’ve described so far. He pets dogs in the park whilst on his daily five-mile run, then helps little old ladies cross the street on the way to his therapist appointment, but before that he’ll give a lollipop to a child after stopping to worship the deity of his choice.”
Max had a wicked, sarcastic sense of humor and for the most part the women in his life either hadn’t gotten the jokes or did and didn’t like them. He really needed to tone it down if he and Carrie were going to get along. Christ, they’d only just made up and then he had to go off on a small rant.
Great job, arsehole. She’s getting to know you now.
Only Carrie wasn’t angry, she was laughing. Her cheeks had turned a most attractive shade of pink and she was holding her stomach, almost doubled over. She wiped at her eyes, still giggling, and then took a gulp of her wine.
“Oh my stars, you are so right.” She hiccupped and tried to stifle her laughter. “When you say it like that this guy sounds like a real snore. Like the kind of guy that my mother would love but I would hate.”
She was quite beautiful when she smiled like that, without a care in the world. She also looked much too young for him with her guileless whiskey-colored eyes and dimpled cheeks. Fresh and innocent, two things he didn’t find much in Hollywood.
With a grin he erased everything he’d already typed. “How about we try again and be honest this time? Not that I don’t think you want a kind man, I’m sure you do. But think out of the box a little. For example, how do you feel about black lingerie?”
Still laughing, she nudged him on the leg with her sock-covered foot. “You just can’t let that go, can you? How do I feel about black lingerie? I think it goes well with my coloring. Can we move on from that subject now?”
He wouldn’t rise to take the bait. “It’s an important one. The fate of nations rest in the balance.”
“God help them then. Now let’s see. What do I really want in a man?” She tapped her lips and smiled. “I want him to be handsome. of course, with a great body. He doesn’t have to be musclebound but firm abs would be lovely.”
Max had a six-pack, a requirement in Hollywood, although his weren’t quite as good as Nate’s eight-pack. His friend had taken it to a whole different level for the last Thunder movie.
“Adonis body,” Max typed. “What else?”
She grabbed his arm to look at the screen. “Hey, that isn’t what I said. I said he should have a good body.”
“You said great body.”
Her eyes widened and she reached over him to get to the keyboard but he moved the laptop out of the way. “Are you going to remember every word I say because it’s annoying. I just want a guy that looks good.”
Did she think he looked good? Other women did. Casting directors did. But Carrie wasn’t one to follow the herd. Maybe he wasn’t her type. Maybe Tyler was.
“I’d like it if he slept in the nude,” she stated with a sly smile. “I hate pajamas on men.”
She lived in Florida where it was warm all year round so getting cold wasn’t an issue.
He added to the list. “Starkers at bedtime. Okay, next.”
Giggling, she covered her mouth with her hand. “Starkers. That sounds dirtier than nude.”
He nodded in agreement. “Art is nude. Pole dancers are starkers.”
“I don’t want a pole dancing boyfriend.” She elbowed him. “Type nude instead.”
Backspacing, he fixed the entry. She was picky about this stuff.
She took another gulp of her wine. “He should be able to cook and clean. I shouldn’t have to do it all. It’s not fair.”
That ex-fiancé really was a nightmare. “Did Mark make you do all the housework?”
“He said that because I was home all day I had more time to do it. I never could get him to realize that my home was also my office and I was working. Asshole.”
“You’re well rid of him. Did he have abs?”
“No, he didn’t and I wouldn’t have cared if he hadn’t been a douchebag. But if I have a choice, I’m going with the abs next time.”
Max added her latest request to the list. It was shaping up nicely. “That can’t be all you want. What else?”
Slumping against the cushions, she seemed lost in thought. “I want him to be smart but not obnoxious. I want him to be funny, but not too funny.”
Smart and funny. Good choices. Time to kick this game up a notch.
“How about good in bed? Do you want him to be a good lover?”
Carrie almost choked on her wine. “That goes without saying. He should be…knowledgeable about where everything is and what to do with it.”
“He should know where the…doorbell is.”
Frowning at him, she didn’t seem to get the reference. He hadn’t thought he was being ambiguous. “Doorbell?”
He waited and then finally her cheeks suffused with heat and she dropped her head into her hands. “I just got that. You are a sick puppy.”
“I am,” he agreed readily. “So he should be good in bed. A veritable stallion along with all those kind qualities from earlier. What else?”
She drained her glass and set it on the end table. “I just…”
When she didn’t continue he tried to prompt her. “You just… what?”
She looked at him then, her lips turned down and her expression unutterably sad. A moment ago they’d been laughing.
“I just want a man that loves me more than anything else. Is that too much to ask?”
It shouldn’t be. But in his experience, it was rare indeed.