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The Summer Proposal(85)

Author:Vi Keeland

“Yeah. Just have a few things to take care of out there.”

His vagueness caused an unsettled feeling in my stomach. But I tried to chalk it up to nerves getting the best of me. Plus, I hadn’t yet given Max any indication of where things stood between me and Gabriel, so it would make sense if he was a bit pensive himself. That could be it, too.

So I forged ahead. “Do you think you’ll be up for dinner when you get back Saturday night?”

“Sure. I have a morning flight, but with the time change, I think I land around four.”

“Okay. How about you come over, and I cook? That way we don’t have to worry about the time if your flight is late or something.”

“Sounds good.”

“Perfect. I got to work a little late today, so I have to run. Have a safe trip. I’ll see you this weekend.”

CHAPTER 24

* * *

Georgia

These had been the longest few days I could remember.

By the time Saturday arrived, my nerves were shot. Max and I had either seen each other or texted almost every day since we’d met, but he’d been radio silent while he was in California. Of course, I’d been the one to say I needed a little time after Gabriel showed up, and Max had been respectful about giving me that. But even then, he’d still sent me a simple text each day to check in. The last few days: crickets.

So eventually, I’d taken the initiative, and yesterday I’d sent him a message asking how his trip was going, hoping to open up things between us. His answer had been polite, but short, leaving me feeling like I shouldn’t push to continue the conversation. Now the uneasy feeling I’d had when we spoke on the phone last had blossomed into full-blown anxiety.

At seven, when he knocked at my door, my palms were sweaty.

“Hey.”

Max kissed my lips as he entered, which went a long way toward settling my nerves.

“How was your flight?”

“Uneventful.”

“Do you want a glass of wine?”

“If you’re having some.”

Oh, I was definitely having some. At the moment, I didn’t much want to share. I felt like chugging straight from the bottle.

Max followed me into the kitchen. He took a seat on a stool at the island while I got glasses down and took the wine out of the fridge.

“Did you get everything accomplished you needed to on your trip?”

“I did.”

It bugged the crap out of me that he hadn’t volunteered why he’d gone back so soon. For some reason, I really needed to know. But I wasn’t usually one to pry, so it felt awkward to push. I filled one of the glasses and moved it across the counter, looking Max in the eyes.

“What did the team need you to do that you had to go back so soon?”

He looked down into the wine. “Nothing. I just had some things to take care of. I found a place to live.”

My wine glass froze halfway to my mouth. “You bought a place?”

He shook his head. “No, I decided to rent for a while so I can get to know the area and figure out where I want to live.”

When we were in California together, Max had asked if I’d come back with him to help him look next month. Had he changed his mind about wanting my opinion? Maybe looking at places had been unplanned. So yet again, I tried to shake off my unease.

“Tell me about it. Is it an apartment or house?”

“It’s a house. It’s in the hills. It’s nice. It has three bedrooms and a pool with a nice view. It’s owned by some actress who’s going to work on two films in Europe, so she’s renting it fully furnished, and it’s only a one-year lease, so I can get something more permanent after that.”

More permanent. My neck felt like someone had reached in and tied it in knots. I forced a smile. “That sounds great. When does the lease start?”

“July first.”

My stomach dropped. “Oh, wow. That’s so soon.”

He looked down and nodded. “Yeah.”

The stove buzzed, letting me know the preheating was done. I was glad for the momentary distraction and a chance to hide the emotions probably flashing like a neon sign on my face. Turning around, I took the tray of food from the top and popped it into the oven, then fiddled with the knobs on the stove to buy more time before I had to look at Max again. “I made chicken Milanese and risotto,” I told him. “The chicken just needs to go in the oven to warm.”

When I was all stalled out, I finished my wine and poured a second glass. “Why don’t we go sit in the living room while we wait?” I started to walk without waiting for a response, but Max caught my hand.

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