I glanced at Max, who was staring after Dinah with a strange, sort of wistful expression on his face. “I kind of worried,” he said slowly, “that everyone I used to know would be completely different. I could pick Dinah out of a lineup any day, though. She’ll probably die with that fire engine red hair.”
“She will if she has anything to say about it,” I agreed. “Uh…are you…” I wanted to ask if he was okay, if he really didn’t recognize me or if he just didn’t care, and half a dozen other questions flashing through my mind, but I worried that anything I said would break the spell.
Max sighed. “Sorry, I know I’m being weird. Don’t listen to me. It’s just…I haven’t been here in a really long time.” He resolutely bit into his burger, and his expression of forced calm melted into pure happiness. “Ohmmgdd,” he muttered around his bite.
“Right?” What the hell, it wasn’t like I’d gotten to finish the meatloaf. I poured a pool of ketchup out onto the edge of my plate and began to eat. Silence reigned for another few minutes as we worked on our plates.
“So,” Max said once his burger and half of his fries had been annihilated. He sat back and pulled down the zipper on his jacket, and—damn. It was all I could do to keep my food in my mouth. “Tell me about yourself.”
Oh god, open-ended inquiries. I swallowed then took a sip of my water. “What do you want to know?”
Max didn’t quite smile, but there was a hint of interest in his face that even someone as blind to subtlety as I usually was could see. “Whatever you want to tell me. Seriously, it’s not a trap, but I’ve got some time to kill before my ride gets here, and you’re not rushing off. We might as well get to know each other better.”
He’s flirting with you, my brain screamed unhelpfully at me. It was all of my teenage fantasies come to life, and I had no idea what to do with it. He’s flirting with you! Do something, do something, do something!
The pressure was on, and I’d never been good at handling interpersonal pressure. So I said the first thing that came to mind, which was, “I think my house has rats.”
Max’s flirty face became a slight frown. “What?”
Oh god, end me. “Uh, I just bought a house, and it’s really in need of remodeling, and every night I hear noises in the walls,” and now I was babbling but I couldn’t stop, “and I’m actually hoping it’s rats because if the place is haunted, I’m burning it to the ground.”
“That wouldn’t be a very good return on your investment.”
“That’s why my fingers are crossed for rats.”
“I get that.” He looked thoughtful. “Are you doing the remodel yourself?”
I shrugged. “All the parts of it I can. Not the plumbing or the electrical work, but the walls and floors, yeah.”
“What do you think you’ll tackle first?”
“Ugh, it has to be the insulation. I’m dying to work on the kitchen, but it’s a moot point if I freeze to death one of these nights. And I can’t afford to heat the whole place the way it is now.”
To my complete amazement, the rats and home renovation didn’t kill the mood. Max actually knew quite a bit about construction—which wasn’t too surprising, since his dad had owned the largest construction outfit in the county before the “trouble” went down. We talked about appliances, about flooring, about the devil that was wallpaper and how to deal with it—we even talked about where I might look for a farmhouse sink. Our conversation was so engrossing, I totally forgot my brother was due to pick Max up until the door jingled and he walked inside the diner.
“Hey, Max!” he called out, and Max was on his feet, grinning and walking into Hal’s embrace before I even finished my wince.
“Where are the girls?” Max demanded as the two hugged hard.
“They were already in their pjs, so I asked our neighbor to watch them until we get back. Jesus, are you all right? Is the car totaled?”
“I hope not. Either way, I’m sure I can find a rental tomorrow.” Max sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than that he was really sure.
Hal patted him on the back once more, finally let him go, then looked over at me. “Shit, you didn’t tell me it was Nicky who picked you up!”
Max frowned. “Nicky? It’s not. This is Dominic.”
Hal looked between the two of us like we were crazy. “Max, Nicky is Dominic. You can remember every article and amendment of the Constitution but you can’t remember my little brother’s name?”
“No, of course I remember Nicky’s name, I just—” He turned to me, and this was it. Playtime was over. I was about to go from Dominic the competent cop he’d just low-key flirted with to Nicky, Hal’s little brother.
“I didn’t recognize you at all,” he marveled, looking me over with a fresh perspective. “At all. Jesus, you’re taller by a foot. And you’re so…different.”
“Uh…surprise,” I said, hating that I sounded so small saying it. This was it. Now he was going to—
And then he blushed, blushed as he stared at me, and I thought, Oh. Hey. Maybe this isn’t over before it begins after all.
Chapter Three
Max
Oh my god. Little Nicky had become Dominic, a man with a couple of inches on me, broad shoulders like his brother, and a face that had gone from the heart-shaped cherub of his youth to a sword-wielding Archangel Michael. He looked a lot like Hal now, actually, except without the permanent lumps across the bridge that were the results of a few broken noses. His hair was a couple of shades lighter and a little longer, with just enough curl in it that it would wrap around my fingers if I ran my hands through it.
Or if I grabbed it. Not hard, just enough to—
“Max. Max!” Hal snapped his fingers at me, and I blinked.
“Sorry,” I said, belatedly realizing that I’d been staring at Dominic for the past ten seconds without speaking. “Right, sorry. I’m—” Stunned. Stricken. In awe. “I’m tired,” I finished, because there was honesty and then there was being frank to the point that it was uncomfortable, and I didn’t want to make Dominic or Hal uncomfortable.
“Tired?” Hal caught my chin with his hand and turned my head to the side, looking at the bruised half of my face with concern. “Or maybe you’re concussed. Do we need to get you to a doctor?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not concussed. I hit the airbag, not the steering wheel, and I wasn’t going all that fast in the first place. I’m just a little banged up.”