“He’ll say it when he’s ready,” Maxwell said, laughing as the kids scrambled to be front and center in his lap. “How was your day?”
“Oh, good.” Jill stretched out on the deck chair. “We watched the game. Played with toys. Had a few meltdowns. Just a regular day in paradise.”
Maxwell smiled over at her, getting lost in the pretty curves of her smile, the elegant way she’d swept back her thick, black hair today. God, he missed her. He really did.
“I was talking to some of the guys after the game today,” he said, wiggling his brows. “I’ve scheduled a date night for us.”
“Oh, have you?” She sat up slightly, brows lifting.
“It’ll be an informal thing. Just a little get-together at a nice place downtown to celebrate the season. I already told them we’d be there…” He grimaced. “Do you think you can make it after work tomorrow?”
She tutted. “What time were you thinking?”
“Eight.”
“It sounds nice,” she said. “That’ll give me time to come home, and we can go together.”
“We need it. We deserve it.” She was too far away for him to reach, though he wanted to pull her into his arms, too, and let the kisses fly. “It’s been pure kids and work these days. It’s time for an adults-only night.”
She hummed low, letting her head fall back on the chair. “Mmm. You’re right. Even if we’ll be zombies at it, a night out sounds nice.”
They shared a warm smile, one that made Maxwell think there was still hope for them. He did still hope for them—mostly hoped that this was just a work-related stress spell that would dissolve once the Super Bowl was behind them.
“You gonna spend the night?” he asked, grateful she couldn’t tell how hard his heart pounded at the mere question. It felt like he was laying it all out there, every time he asked it.
She sighed. “I don’t know, Maxwell…”
“I know. You like to start the work week in your own space,” he said. The rejection always stung, even though he understood why she did it. But it was hard for him to rationalize away the need to have her in his arms as often as possible. Seemed like that might be the balm to smooth away all the confusion.
“I’ll help you get them settled tonight,” she said, “and maybe hang for a bit.”
That was better than nothing. They lounged on the patio a while longer, trading stories about their day and overseeing the toddlers playing. By the time bedtime rolled around, they knocked out bath, jammie, and story time like old pros. Finally, once the triplets were in their cribs, it was adults-only time.
“Let’s go to the movies tonight,” Maxwell said, leading Jill down the stairs, their fingers laced together. This seemed like as good a time as any to reboard their sexy train.
“There’s a good chance I’ll fall asleep before the movie even starts,” she warned.
“You said that the last time,” Maxwell teased.
She just smirked at him in response, warmth in her gaze. Inside the home theater, Jill cozied up into the pit of pillows immediately, looking snug and content in the comfortable nest. Once Maxwell had queued up a lighthearted movie and dimmed the lights, Jill looked half-asleep. And by the time he made it to her side in the couch pit, she was already snoozing.
Maxwell sighed, watching her sleep for a few moments. She was so beautiful—painfully beautiful, really—and he hadn’t been able to see enough of her recently. He wanted to change that. Wanted to change all the weird, underlying tension and distant confusion that had plagued him for the past few weeks. There were things to catch up on, too. News items that fluttered away in the never-ending demands of the triplets or during their “shift changes.” He’d been considering the possibility of getting a publicist, an idea that James had floated with him recently, and he wanted Jill’s take on it.
But more than that, they needed to have a serious conversation about what was going on between them. Part of him had hoped that might happen tonight, but with the soft snoozing beside him…it would have to wait.
Glasses lifted in the air all around them, sparkling water or wines glinting in the ambient light of the sleek, modern restaurant downtown. Grins shone back at Maxwell.
“Here’s to an amazing fucking season!” James called out, and everyone at the table whooped and cheered in response. Glasses clinked, Maxwell touching his champagne flute first to Jill’s, then to everyone in his vicinity—James, Daisy, Mark, Tessa—and then lifted it toward the other teammates he couldn’t reach. About half the team was here tonight, which made for a sizable group, but the restaurant had planned ahead for the big crew. Once the cheers died down and the hum of conversation returned, Maxwell turned to Jill.
“Have I told you yet how incredible you look tonight?” he asked, his gaze washing over her maroon wraparound, showcasing the mahogany tops of those breasts he was eager to get back into his palms.
“Only about ten times,” she said with a wink. “But that’s okay. I like to hear it.”
“Mm-hmm. Not as much as I like to see it.”
She giggled, swatting at his chest. The energy that pulsed between them this evening felt exactly like old times. Like it had at the beginning. Pure. Unhindered. Endlessly sexy.
Daisy captured Jill’s attention then, and the two disappeared into their own conversation. Maxwell listened in on a conversation between Mark and James, disputing stats with another teammate a bit further down the table, for a moment, then Maxwell’s phone started to buzz.
A new text flashed across his screen beneath the name Trinity. “Hey, can we talk??”
He sighed, turning off the screen. Trinity was the publicist James had put him in contact with last week. They’d been trying but failing to set up an appointment to go over details about her services and his thoughts for moving forward. He’d told her that Monday evenings or Tuesdays would work best—but that was before this dinner had been planned.
His phone buzzed against the table and lit up again. “Cannot wait to connect with you about this! I’m so excited to show you what I’ve got in store.”
He sighed, clicking the screen off with the side button again. Jill looked over at him just as another text came through.
“I think we’ll be perfect for each other. This is the sort of match made in heaven that you can only dream about.”
He didn’t understand why she had to blow up his phone like this—separate texts, when one would have been fine. He swiped the screen clear again.
Jill sent him a strange look, then returned to her conversation with Daisy. Maxwell took a sip of his sparkling water, eager to rejoin the flow of conversation around him, when yet another text from Trinity came through. He picked up his phone and tapped out a hasty message.
“We’ll have to connect tomorrow—I’m at a team function tonight. I’ll call you.”
When he finished the text, he saw Jill turning away. Why did she care so much who he was texting? He wasn’t being obnoxious—at least, he thought he wasn’t. He turned his phone onto Do Not Disturb for good measure, ready to forget about his phone for the rest of the evening. After a bit, he noticed Jill fiddling with one of her earrings, staring off into space.