Page 22 of Set to Love

That’s a yes.

Max

But should I be worried about big pants?

I frown, pulling my phone out of my pocket. I thought my message was crystal clear. I scroll up to read the text.

Katie

Yes! I’m so sorry. Time got away from me. I have big pants for you. I’ll be there at nine. I promise I’ll be on time today.

I groan. Stupid autocorrect. I start typing so fast my thumbs nearly cramp.

Katie

PLANS. I meant plans!

Katie

I am not showing up with large pants.

Three dots appear almost instantly.

Max

Understood. Pants are optional. See you at nine.

Well, this day is off to a solid start.

Not.

At least if the date goes horribly wrong, I’ll always be remembered as the girl who promised him big pants.

After a quick trip home to change, I rush over to the Magnolia Grand and pull into the circular drive. My hair is starting to escape from my signature messy bun, and I’m positive I have a rogue streak of flour somewhere on my body, but at least I’m exactly on time.

I spot Max before he sees me. He’s standing near the heavy gold-rimmed doors, chatting with one of the doormen as if they’ve been best friends for years. Even in a simple T-shirt and dark jeans, his presence commands your attention.

Max’s eyes lock onto the 4Runner, and his face breaks into a grin that sets my stomach off in a series of impressive backflips.

He opens the passenger door. “Cheers, Katie. Good morning.” He goes to sit down, but pauses, eyeing a small brown paper bag resting on the seat. He picks it up gingerly, a playful glint in his eyes. “Should I be concerned? Are the big pants inside?”

“No.” I snort. “Just some croissants. Hope they’re still warm.”

He sneaks a peek inside the bag. “Oh, these look amazing. I’ve got a serious weakness for croissants. Especially when they’re homemade. You can taste the effort.” He buckles his seat belt as I pull away from the curb and head toward the interstate.

“There are some napkins in the console and an Earl Grey for you in the cup holder,” I say, glancing at him. “I didn’t know if you’d eaten, so I figured I’d bring reinforcements just in case. It’s about a forty-five-minute drive to Blue Spring.”

“Thank you, Katie.” He takes a sip of the tea and sighs contentedly. “I had bacon and eggs this morning, but I can always eat. So this is perfect.”

He tears off a flaky corner of the croissant and takes a bite, immediately closing his eyes in appreciation. “These are ace,” he says after swallowing. “This alone makes being up before nine worth it.”

Ace. My brain immediately does a little victory lap. I spend half my life trying to hit them on the court, and here he is dropping one over breakfast. I wonder if he knows how much I like that particular word.

I tilt my head, casting a sideways glance at him. “Early? What time do you normally sleep in until?”

“Half-ten. Eleven if I’m lucky,” he says, ripping off another buttery piece. “I’m a total write-off in the mornings. I have to set three alarms.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing, thinking about the four hours of work I’ve already put in today. To me, it’s practically the afternoon. I’d be asleep by seven, given the chance.