for her. “Any thoughts on where, or what, you want to eat?”
She was suddenly starving.
“Somewhere we don’t have to wait for hours—lunch feels like forever ago.”
He nodded as he drove out of the parking lot.
“Agreed—maybe it was because they kept eating in that movie.”
They tossed around restaurant ideas as they drove in the general direction of her place, until she saw a sign up ahead.
“Can you believe I haven’t been to In-N-Out since I’ve been back to California?”
He immediately threw on his blinker, just like she knew he would.
“Are you serious? That feels sacrilegious. Let’s go.”
He started to pull into a parking spot, but she stopped him.
“No, let’s go through the drive-through—it’s probably packed inside. We can eat at my place.”
He put his hand on hers.
“Olivia Monroe, you’re the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met.”
She laughed at him, but damn was this man getting to her. Every time he looked at her, she wanted him to touch her. Every time he touched her, she wanted it to last longer. And now, he was coming back to her place, to touch her, she hoped, for a very long time.
She stopped herself. No, Olivia, don’t build it up too much—sure you haven’t had sex for months, but you haven’t even kissed this guy. Just because he has a good head of hair and a sexy smile doesn’t mean he knows what to do with his body . . . or yours. Okay, but it had the potential to be good, didn’t it? He paid attention when she talked, and he clearly liked looking at her. That was honestly half the battle for most men—if he could listen when she said Yes, no, right there, YES, he had the advantage over about eighty percent of men.
Maybe ninety.
When they got back to her place, Olivia led him to the kitchen, and picked up the bottle of red wine on her kitchen counter.
“Wine? I have white wine in the fridge if you want that. I’m not sure which one goes better with In-N-Out, though.”
His eyes lingered on her, and her whole body tingled.
“Whichever one you’re having,” he said.
She took two wineglasses down from the cabinet and opened the red wine. He didn’t jump to try to open it for her, thank God. She enjoyed it when men opened doors for her and all of that, but too often men tried to take over every damn thing from women in the interest of “chivalry,” and Olivia hated that. She poured two glasses, and led him into the living room.
“Let’s sit in here,” she said. “It’s more comfortable than the kitchen stools at the counter, and I don’t have a kitchen table yet.”
He followed her into the living room with the food and sat down next to her on the couch. Very close to her on the couch.
“A car, a kitchen table, what else do you still have to buy?”
She laughed as she took their food out of the bags.
“Oh, probably a million things. A new wardrobe, for that matter—all of my clothes are too dark and too formal for L.A. I think the only time I’ve seen anyone in a suit since I got here was that luncheon, and that was only you and a handful of other lawyers.”
He squeezed out ketchup for both of them and picked up a fry.
“Has it been hard? The transition?” he asked.
Yes, much harder than she’d expected.
“Not really,” she said. “Maybe at some point it will be, but for now, it’s all a new adventure, you know? And it’s a relief to be back in California.”
She took a bite of her burger so she wouldn’t be able to answer any more questions, and maybe he got the hint, because so did he.
“Ahh, that hit the spot,” he said when he finished his burger. “I haven’t been in months and it was just what I was in the mood for. Thank you for suggesting it.”
He took a sip of wine and smiled at her over his wineglass, and she felt that electricity between them again. She must be really attracted to this man, because usually right after she finished a cheeseburger was when she felt the least sexy possible, but for some reason, being with Max Powell was the exception.
“Okay, so, list of things Olivia still has to do in L.A.: buy a car, buy a kitchen table, buy a whole new wardrobe. Anything else?”
Olivia picked up her wineglass and took another sip as Max looked down at her. Had he