His eyes came to me and he called, “Hello? Nina?”
My body jolted and I asked, “What?”
He grinned and asked back, “Baby, you awake?”
“Um…”
“Sit down.”
“But –”
“Sit down.”
“All right,” I muttered, thinking that was a good idea and walked out of the kitchen and to a stool. Then I sat down.
The toast came up, Max pulled out a plate, put the toast on it, buttered it (with far more butter than necessary) and then put jelly on it (with a considerable amount of jelly, but I wasn’t complaining).
Then he turned and slid the plate in front of me and went back to the coffeepot.
“Nina, the bluff?” he asked.
“Sorry?”
He poured coffee in a mug, spooned in a sugar and went to the fridge, pulling out the milk then he said, “I want you to come with me to the bluff.”
“What bluff?” I asked, my eyes on what he was doing, the toast close to my mouth, I took a bite.
Grape jelly. Ambrosia.
“Edge of my land, I want you to see it,” he said, splashing milk into the mug, doing a swirl with a spoon and then turning to me and setting it in front of me.
I lost my concentration on the conversation and stared at the coffee Max set on the counter.
Once. He’d poured me coffee once. And he knew how I took it.
Niles had done it a hundred times and he never bothered to remember.
“Jesus, Nina,” Max said and it sounded like he was laughing through the words.
I shook my head and looked at him to see he was, indeed, laughing through the words.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“You. You’re a zombie in the morning.”
I felt my brows draw together and I said, “No, I’m not.”
His response: “Babe,” and then a grin.
He turned to the coffeepot, poured another mug, black, no sugar, sipped it and slid some more bread in the toaster.
“Dress warm,” he said, turning back to me and leaning his h*ps against the counter, “and bring your camera if you got one.”
“My camera?”
“Views at the bluff, you’ll want a photo.”
I decided I needed caffeine so I dropped my toast, grabbed my mug, took a sip then another one because Max made good coffee.