The Summer Proposal Page 3

  “And everything between the two of you was fine before that?”

  “I had thought so. I work a lot—more than I need to or really should—and sometimes Gabriel thought it was too much and complained. That was probably our biggest issue. But we weren’t a couple who fought all the time, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Max rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb. “How long’s he been gone?”

  “Eight months.”

  “Have you seen each other during that time?”

  “Just once. About six weeks ago. My company opened a franchise boutique in Paris. I went for the grand opening, and he met me there for the weekend.”

  “And you’ve both been seeing other people since he left?”

  I shook my head. “Apparently he has been, but I haven’t been too much.” I bit my lip again. “Adam was actually only my second date in many years. The first was a guy I met on Tinder two weeks ago, which lasted for coffee only. To be honest, I didn’t even want to go out tonight. But I’m trying really hard to make some much-needed changes in my life, now that I’m on my own. So I made a list of things I’d been putting off, and since dating was at the top of that list, I sort of forced myself to show up.”

  Max’s eyes jumped back and forth between mine. “Did you have to force yourself to come to the Garden?”

  “No, just the opposite. I was trying to force myself not to come.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  He stared at me some more. “When are you seeing him again?”

  “We don’t have any more plans to reconnect in person until after he’s finished in London and moves back to New York. So I guess December, when he gets back.”

  “Are you just looking to get even with this guy because he’s dating? Or are you really looking to see what else is out there for yourself?”

  That was a damn good question, and one I didn’t really know the answer to. My relationship with Gabriel was a gray area, and I was a black-or-white type person. Lord knows, I’d spent enough time agonizing over decisions about that man, only to wind up now questioning every decision I’d ever made.

  I looked Max in the eye. “I’ll be honest; I’m not sure what I want.” I cocked my head to the side. “Does it matter to you?”

  A slow grin spread across his face. “Just want to know what I’m getting myself into.” He reached across the table and took my hand, weaving our fingers together. He looked up with a sparkle in his eyes. “But I’m in.”

  I laughed. “You’re a hard sell.”

  “I can’t help it. I want to know everything about you.”

  I squinted. “Why?”

  “I have no damn idea. I just do.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. Anything.”

  “Like what?”

  He shrugged. “You said you sometimes work more than you need to. Why do you keep working if you don’t need to?”

  I smiled sadly. “That’s a question I’ve given a lot of thought, since it was a source of contention in my relationship. I think I work a lot because I’ve always had to. I’m dyslexic, so ever since elementary school, I’ve had to put in extra time. A reading assignment that might take my friends twenty minutes could take me an hour or two, so I’m sort of trained to expect to do more. I also have a tendency to overanalyze everything to death, which can be time consuming, and I’m super competitive—at times obnoxiously so. But I love my business, and I enjoy watching it grow from what I put into it. That said, I actually did hire a director of operations four months ago, so I can work less if I want to. My mom is getting older and lives down in Florida, and I want to be able to go visit her more often. And I love to travel. I also thought it would make Gabriel happy, but you already know how that’s worked out.”

  “Nothing wrong with working a lot if you love what you do. You probably wouldn’t be where you are if you didn’t put in the time. I definitely wouldn’t.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And being competitive is good. It pushes you to do better.”

  I shook my head. “My friends won’t even play board games with me anymore, and I’m banned from the Easter egg hunt in my mom’s retirement community because of…” I raised my hands and made air quotes. “…an incident with a super-sensitive nine-year-old I accidentally made cry.”

  Max grinned. “That bad, huh?”

  I rubbed my finger over the condensation on the bottom of my glass. “I’m working on finding the right balance. I even went to a four-day meditation retreat a few months ago to learn how to relax.”

  “How did that go?”

  My lip twitched. “I left a day early.”

  Max chuckled. “What about family? Lot of siblings?”

  “No, I’m an only child. My parents had me late in life. They married at thirty and agreed to not have children beforehand. My dad had a vasectomy shortly after their wedding. Then at forty-two, my mom got pregnant. Turns out, a vasectomy isn’t a hundred-percent foolproof. They cut the man’s vas deferens, but in rare cases the pieces can grow back and reconnect. It’s called recanalization.”

  “Holy shit.” Max shifted in his seat.

  I laughed. “Did you just squeeze your legs together?”

  “Damn right I did. Mention cutting anything down there and my body jumps into protective mode. How did your parents take that news in their forties?”

  “My mom said it was a shock, but when she went to her first appointment and heard the heartbeat, she knew it was meant to be. My dad, on the other hand, wasn’t as elated. He had a terrible childhood and had his own reasons for not wanting a family. So he went off and had an affair with a woman who had her tubes tied, and my parents wound up getting divorced when I was two. I’m not very close with my father.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I smiled. “Thank you. But there’s nothing to be sorry about, even though it may sound like it when I tell the abbreviated version. My mom is super mom, so I never felt like I missed much. She retired to Florida two years ago. And I did see my dad growing up. What about you? Big family?”

  “I’m the youngest of six. All boys.” He shook his head. “My poor mom. We broke every piece of furniture at least once horsing around over the years.”

  “Ah…like your sister-in-law’s chair?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Earlier, when I asked if you lived with your mother, you said you didn’t even live in the same state. So are you not from New York?”

  “Nope. Originally from Washington state, but I haven’t lived there in a long time—left home when I was sixteen to live with a host family to play hockey in Minnesota. Then moved to the East Coast to play for Boston University, and then on to New York to play for the Wolverines.”

  “What’s that like? Being a professional athlete, I mean.”

  Max shrugged. “I get to play a game I love for a living. It’s pretty much a dream. People call Disney the greatest place on earth. I’ll take the locker room after a win any day of the week.”

  “What’s the downside? Even the best jobs have one.”

  “Well, losing definitely sucks. My team has done a lot of it the last two years. When I was first drafted, they were a team on the rise. We made the playoffs my rookie year, but between player injuries and bad trades, the last few have been tough. It’s called a team because you need more than a few guys to be having a good year. Other than that, the travel can be a lot. A season is eighty-two games, and that’s without playoffs. Almost half are on the road. I think I see the team dentist more than I do the inside of my own apartment.”

  “Wow, yeah. That’s a lot of travel.”

  Max had ordered a rum and Coke and a water. I’d figured he needed to hydrate after the game. But I noticed he hadn’t touched the alcohol yet, and we’d been sitting long enough for his ice to melt. Pointing to the smaller glass, I said, “You haven’t touched your drink.”

  “I don’t drink alc
ohol when I have practice or a game the next day.”

  My brows furrowed. “So why did you order a rum and Coke?”

  “I didn’t want you to not order a drink because I wasn’t.”

  I smiled. “That’s thoughtful. Thank you.”

  “So tell me about your date tonight. Was he a total dud, or did he just pale in comparison to the first guy you met?” He winked.

  “Real Adam was very nice.”

  “Nice?” Max’s cocky grin widened. “So it sucked, huh?”

  There was a napkin on the table in front of me. I crumpled it up and threw it at him. He caught it.

  “I think it’s time for your turn in the hot seat,” I said. “Tell me about the woman you slept with recently. Is she someone you’ve been seeing?”

  “It was just a hookup. For both of us.”

  “Uh-huh.” I sipped my drink. “Let’s talk about that. Do those happen often? I mean, you’re a professional athlete and a good-looking guy—not to mention you spend a lot of time on the road.”

  Max contemplated me. “I told you that if you gave me a second chance, I wouldn’t lie to you again. But I’d also rather not paint a picture of something you won’t like. So I’m just going to say I don’t have a hard time finding someone to spend time with, if I want to. But just because it’s easy, and I’ve lived a full single life, doesn’t mean that’s how it has to be. I’m sure you could walk into just about any bar in this city and leave with a guy, if you wanted to. Doesn’t mean you’ll do it if you’re in a relationship, right?”

  “No, I guess not.” I shrugged. “But there must be something wrong with you. Tell me your worst qualities, Max.”

  “Damn.” He blew out a deep breath. “You’re really looking for a reason not to marry me, aren’t you?”

  “If everything you’re saying is sincere, you’re too good to be true. Can you blame me for waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

  He rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, then sat up and planted his elbows on the table. “Okay. I’ll give you some dirt. But afterward, I want to hear more of your dirt.”

  I laughed. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

  “Shake on it.” He extended his hand, and when I put mine in his, he closed his fingers and didn’t let go. “Awww…you want to hold my hand.”

  I shook my head. “Out with it, Pretty Boy. What’s wrong with you?”

  Max’s face grew serious. “I can be obsessive and somewhat compulsive. What normal people might call drive turns into overdrive for me. I can lose focus on everything else in my life, including my own health and all the people around me, when I want something bad enough.”

  “Okay…well, I guess that makes sense, considering your career. I’ve never met a professional athlete before, but I have to imagine having a fervent drive is part of what helped you get where you are.”

  “I also have an addictive personality. Hockey is my drug of choice. But it’s why I don’t drink much, and I keep away from drugs and gambling. In college, I ran up a debt of twenty grand to a bookie. My oldest brother had to bail my ass out, but not before he flew to Boston and kicked it.”

  “Oh goodness. How big is your brother?”

  Max laughed. “I’m one of the smaller Yearwood boys.”

  “Wow.”

  “So…did I scare you away yet? So far you’ve had me admit I had a hookup recently, got arrested while naked hula hooping, have an addictive personality, and sometimes forget the world exists when I’m focused on hockey. What’s next? Me telling you I have an irrational fear of lizards and that I once peed my pants when I was nine because my brothers brought home six chameleons and hid them in my bed?”

  “Oh my God. Is that true?”

  Max hung his head. “Yeah. But in my defense, you shouldn’t show a four-year-old Godzilla. It can leave scars.”

  The thought of this enormous man being afraid of a tiny lizard was absolutely hilarious. But he’d won me over with the open way he’d answered my questions. He still had my hand locked in his, so I squeezed and decided honesty was a two-way street.

  “You were right. I was fishing for a reason to not see you again.”

  “And did you find one?”

  I shook my head. “Flaws don’t scare me. You not knowing you have them or refusing to admit they exist would.”

  “So does that mean we’re heading to Vegas?”

  “Not quite.” I laughed. “Is it my turn now? To tell you my worst qualities, I mean? Because I’m not sure I stressed how annoying my competitiveness can be when I mentioned it earlier. Like, I threw that napkin at you, and you caught it, and it’s killing me that you didn’t throw it back so I could catch it, too. And now I also want to tell you all my other bad qualities so mine can be worse than yours. But I’m thinking maybe I should finish my drink before I continue with my laundry list, in case you make a run for it.”

  Max shook his head. “Nah. You don’t need to tell me anything. I already know your worst quality.”

  “You do, huh? I’m almost afraid to ask. What is it?”

  Max’s eyes met mine. The intensity in them was undeniable, and it set off a fluttering low in my belly.

  “Your worst quality? Easy. I believe you said his name was Gabriel.”

  CHAPTER 3

  * * *

  Georgia

  “So how was your blind date?” Maggie held out a Starbucks coffee cup and a bottle of Motrin.

  There was a reason she was my best friend and head of marketing at Eternity Roses. “Are those both for me?”

  She nodded. “I know you’re trying to cut back to one coffee a day. But I’m hoping you need it this morning because your date kept you up all night.”

  “What are the Motrin for?”

  Maggie smiled and brought her own coffee to her lips. “In case your head was banging against the headboard. I told you to get rid of that fancy wooden bedframe and get a cushioned one.”

  I laughed and waved off the bottle. “I’m good. No banging headboard last night. Though I will take the coffee. Thank you.”

  She twisted the cap off the Motrin and shook the bottle upside down. “Oh good. Because there are only two left, and my head’s killing me. There’s definitely no cushion on those stalls in the courthouse bathrooms.”

  I stopped with my coffee halfway to my mouth. “You didn’t…”

  She grinned. “Oh, but I did…twice.”

  I chuckled. Maggie might’ve lost a little of her mind. For almost a year now, she’d been embroiled in a messy divorce. A few months ago, her soon-to-be ex-husband, Aaron, didn’t show up for a settlement conference at his lawyer’s office. Rather than reschedule, she decided to make good use of the time by seducing his attorney. Since then, she’d made it a sport to have sex with the guy in every inappropriate place possible. I was pretty sure he could be disbarred if anyone found out.

  “Was Aaron at the courthouse?” I asked.

  Her eyes sparkled. “Sure was.”

  “What if he’d walked into the men’s room?”

  “Then he could have watched—same as I got to do when I walked in on him and our neighbor.” She plopped down in the guest chair on the other side of my desk and sipped her coffee. “So your date was a dud, huh? I warned you that letting Frannie fix you up was not the best idea. Did he bore you to death over drinks?”

  “Actually…drinks were the most exciting part of my date.”

  “Oh? Delicious cocktails?”

  I shook my head and grinned. “Nope. Delicious man who pretended to be my date before my real date showed up.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened.

  I laughed because it was nearly impossible to shock her these days.

  “Tell me everything,” she said.

  Over the next twenty minutes, I filled her in on meeting Max, almost walking out of the arena before finding him on the Jumbotron, and staying out until 2 AM talking. When I was done, she took out her cell.

  “What’s his last name?”

  “Yea
rwood, why?”

  “Because I want to Google him and see exactly what we’re talking about here.”

  She typed into her phone, and her eyes lit up. “Holy crap. He’s gorgeous.”

  “I know.”

  “When are we going out with him again?”

  I chuckled at her use of we. “I gave him my number, but I actually don’t think I’m going to go out with him.”

  “Are you crazy? Why not?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. It just feels…wrong.”

  “Because of Gabriel? Who ran away to Europe to screw other women?”

  “How am I supposed to get involved with someone when Gabriel is coming back at the end of the year?”

  “You’re living apart, and he’s dating other women. If he comes back and you two want to be together, it was meant to be. Anything that changes your mind before then just proves you weren’t supposed to stay together. Take it from me, it’s easier to figure it out now than after you get married. For whatever reason, Gabriel needed this time, and he’s clearly taking it. So why shouldn’t you?” She shook her head. “What changed? You seemed okay with it before you went out on the blind date.”

  I shrugged. “I guess it seemed safe and simple. The way Frannie described the guy, I sort of knew in my heart nothing would come of it.”

  “And now?”

  “Max seems…” I shook my head and tried to figure out what bothered me so much. I couldn’t put my finger on it. “I guess he just seems the opposite of safe and simple. Max seems risky and complicated.”

  Maggie smiled. “Because you actually like him.”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. “I don’t know why the thought of going out with him makes me so nervous. I think I just don’t trust my own judgment anymore.”

  “Perhaps it seemed easier when you knew you wouldn’t fall for the guy. You’d said you were going to put yourself out there, but you weren’t really planning on it. You were just going through the motions and biding time until Gabriel comes home.”