Page 71 of Yours, Forever

He lifted his hands in a repentant gesture. I wasn't sure I bought it. "I heard you talking about an empty house, here at the beach. I wondered if Max plans to buy the mansion."

"It's not off the table," Max said, "but also not something I'm pursuing at the moment. Not that you need to know."

"In fact, I believe I need to know." Hernán held his hands behind his back. "As president of the heritage committee, I should be consulted on its future. The mansion could be the jewel of this town, yet it remains forgotten. Forgotten! No one cares about it; the dock is rotten and the marina here can't take the traffic it would take to repair it. If the owner were to donate it, the town could make it into a museum—"

"Museum?" I interrupted. "That's not making it into a jewel. The small portion of people who would come would spend an hour there and leave. How is that a celebration of the building? The views? The lake at the top? Even the history of the place."

"You called me a checkbook, Hernán." Max's serious voice rarely made an appearance. Its depth dug trenches between Hernán and us. "Now you want me to buy the mansion and give it away? What is that, if not asking me to prove you right?"

Color infused the man's face. "Even if you bought it and did as you pleased with it, you will have to get our signature of approval."

"That's not a worry keeping me up at night, to be honest." Max brought me closer to him, a strong hand on my waist. "In fact, I think I'm going to go ahead and tell my team to look up the property. Come up with a business plan for a boutique hotel."

"We'll see about that. We've had a couple of interesting calls from people wanting to work with us. Willing to give us the budget we need, to make sure things get done the right way around here."

I stilled. Max's back hardened under my arm. We both knew what that meant.

A toddler's shrill scream broke the tension, but Hernán ignored it.

"Oh, I see that's a worry that might keep you up at night," he said. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing about that for now. More pressing matters have come to my attention," Max said, and let me go.

"Max?"

He winked at me. He gave me his phone and wallet, kicked off his loafers, and walked past Hernán toward a couple I hadn't noticed. They bent to take care of their child, distraught over something.

"Don't worry, I'll get the ball for the baby," he said to the parents and straight into the water he went.

"Max!" I yelled.

Hernán scoffed and walked away, miffed and dismissed. I ignored him, my eyes focused on my husband. He shouldered the waves, reaching for a red ball I only now saw.

I absentmindedly put his phone in my bag and crossed my arms. His friends laughed by my side, and other folk around us turned to watch the show as well. Some of them applauded when Max grabbed the red ball floating in the water. He shook it in the air to celebrate the prize, and everyone cheered for him. A wave overtook him; he disappeared under it for a few seconds. He came out smiling, and shook the ball in the air again to prove he still got it.

People applauded and cheered again, now with even more enthusiasm. I shook my head but I couldn't help it, I laughed.

Until he began his journey back out of the water, and my humor died a quick death.

The water now to his hips, he continued fighting the weight of the water on his way out. His clothes stuck to him; his white shirtplastered to his skin in ways that made me want to lick him up, run my hands over him, and maybe even ride him until he lost composure and all his etiquette coaching dropped…

I startled. The impulse wasn't new, but it had never been this intense. It had never pooled with white heat in my lower belly, threatening my organs with spontaneous combustion. Blowing oxygen into the flames of my feelings for him.

That's what I might have to contend with. Memories and feelings written on the walls of my dream home.

I gazed around, unconsciously wanting to make sure no one stared at me like they could read my thoughts.

He was mostly out of the waves now, water to his knees only. The pants appeared glued to his thighs, showcasing the long, full lines of them. He ran a hand through his hair, combing it back.

I swallowed hard, and considered reapplying sunscreen yet again, to busy my hands with something. I grabbed handfuls of my dress instead.

My husband skipped to the toddler and gave him the ball. The child's parents laughed and thanked Max profusely, while the onlookers gave him another round of applause. Always comfortable in the showman role, Max bent at the waist and bowed, thanking everyone for the praise.

If only he were merely an attractive man that my body appreciated. It was a double-edged sword that he was also fun, kind, and generous. That he was the type of man that, rather than grinding my gears with his personality, so opposite to mine, he could complement me and settle the mechanisms of my heart.

He straightened and sought my eyes in the crowd. I stilled. A wolfish look took over him, just as he began to prowl toward me.

"No. Max. Don't," I tried, but this was for show, too.