Page 36 of Yours, Forever

Eva

It had been afew days since our chance encounter in the kitchen, and I still had to make up my mind about whether I liked Max better in his suit or out of it.

As long as I didn't show him my appreciation when alone or developed any feelings, it would be fine. I was fine. Totally cool. No harm in the aesthetic appreciation of a man wearing nothing but black boxers and smiling at you charmingly, or that same sexy man wearing yet another sexy suit.

Like now, when Max worked on his laptop, posture perfect on one of the armchairs at rEvalution. His back straight and a rare frown in his brow, one ankle on his knee, and the laptop balancing on his perfectly-sized thighs. No jacket, as usual forhim while working from my café, but wearing a vest. Fucking vests, all tempting and masculine.

I refilled the food on the display and tried not to look at him too much. Iwantedto be irritated at him. It would be easier if I found him annoying. Too bad for me, I liked him fine.

All the way across the coffee shop from me, he checked his watch, sighed, closed his laptop, and put it away in his fancy leather briefcase. He stood, straightened his waistcoat, and came to me on the working side of the counter.

Not that I tracked every single thing he did, or the smile he gave me, or the twinkle in his eyes. Or, if I did, it was because we were married and in public. Our circumstances dictated that I flirted with him a little. My current patrons were the perfect alibi.

"Darling." He kissed my temple. "I have a meeting now with Daniel. I'm going to make him cry, when he sees all the money I'm donating and the public projects I want to add private investments to."

I pursed my lips to the side to suppress a smile. "Does that make you happy?"

"The happiest."

"I would have imagined that a smitten man like you, would have said his wife made him the happiest."

I lifted my chin in a challenge, testing if he'd engage with me and my implicit demand.

His charismatic smile stretched slowly, his eyes sparkling.

He got closer to me. "Oh? What else should a smitten man say, in your opinion? Walk me through it."

I couldn't help the little curl at the corner of my lips. One of my current patrons approached the counter, likely hoping for a refill, but I ignored them for a second. The prenup I had signed required so.

"A smitten man would be devoted." I leaned my hip on the counter and crossed my arms.

"I can be devoted." He got closer.

Someone came in and stood behind the first customer, but I ignored them too. An advantage of being a small town, small café owner? I had a lot more leeway to push my limits with my regulars.

Still, I winked at them as if to invite them to the game I played with Max.

I arched a playful eyebrow at him. "A smitten man would praise the ground his wife walks on."

"I kiss the ground at your feet. I'll praise anything you want. I'm good at praising."

He got closer, and, gah. I was about to lose.

My smile faltered. I gulped. "I have customers."

"I have a meeting." His smile stayed, and so did the sparkle in his eyes.

In a series of slow movements, he leaned further into me, until his face hovered next to mine. His smell, now stronger than coffee, made me hear colors.

I waited, time suspended. He kissed my cheek.

"I'll see you later," he said into my ear.

I wouldn't tell him, but he won the match. My weakened knees were proof.

I'd wanted to be playful, but I got played.

I nodded, and turned to my patron as if my heart weren't running fast in the pursuit of my husband.