Falling for Max (3 page)

“I like to cook. Especially after sitting all day, working. It’s good to move around the kitchen.”

“I know all about wanting to move around after sitting all day.”

He remembered meaning to ask her about her employment next time he was in. “Is this a second job for you?”

“Yeah. My primary job is graphic design. Mostly I do book covers. Actually, though I’ll design promotional materials for my clients.”

That surprised and intrigued him. “Really? So you’re an artist, too.”

“Too?” She grinned and he realized he’d given her a very big clue.

“I meant in addition to being a waitress here.”

“Sure you did.”

She went away then to take care of her other customers, and Max dug into his meal. She hadn’t been exaggerating about the cook’s ability, and Max’s reason for being in the diner slipped to the back of his mind as he enjoyed the food.

Since he had nobody to talk to, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through the news apps while he ate. It was part of his usual routine, so he felt less awkward sitting at the counter, eating alone.

When he pushed his empty plate away, Tori showed up with the pot of decaf and he accepted another cup.

“You want dessert tonight?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I saw you reading the back of the menu earlier,” she said. “You know you want some pie. Or the chocolate cake. It’s downright sinful.”

He didn’t bother telling her he’d been reading the menu earlier only to distract himself from being the subject of gossip just by being in the restaurant. “That applesauce was almost like a dessert itself. Like apple pie without the crust.”

“I told you so.”

He fixed his coffee, aware that the restaurant had emptied out considerably since he’d first gone in. The diner had been a disappointment as far as his plans for the future, but the food was good and he’d possibly made a new friend. It wasn’t a total loss.

“Okay, Max,” Tori said. “The curiosity’s killing me. You never come in here but, all of a sudden, you’ve been here two days in a row. What’s up with that?”

He probably shouldn’t say anything, since it would probably become grist for the gossip mill, but he was probably going to scrap the plan, anyway. “I was trying to find a date.”

* * *

That was probably the last thing Tori would have expected Max to say. Even after witnessing his awkward attempt to strike up a conversation at the counter, she’d assumed he had some other reason for being in town two days in a row and was just trying to be sociable.

He was actually trying to find a date at the Trailside Diner? “Is that why you were talking to Jeanette?”

“Who?”

“The woman reading the magazine.”

“Oh. We never got as far as introductions.”

Because he’d run through his sports and weather routine and struck out. He really needed to broaden his conversational horizons. “You need help.”

“You mean like a matchmaker?”

She snorted. A matchmaker was just one of the many things Whitford didn’t have, though there were plenty of women who’d probably claim to have a gift for it. “No. Like somebody to help you be more...dateable.”

He thought about it and, judging by his expression, those thoughts weren’t good. “I don’t think pretending to be somebody I’m not is a good way to start a relationship.”

“That’s not what I said.” She tilted her head. “You think you’re not dateable at all?”

“You said I need to be more dateable. Which means I’m less than dateable.”

Tori sighed, hoping she hadn’t hurt his feelings. He was quite possibly the most literal person she’d ever spoken to. “Do you own a mirror?”

“There’s one over the bathroom sink. It came with the house.”

It wasn’t until the corners of his mouth twitched that Tori realized that, while he might be very literal, Max was also aware of that trait and wasn’t above having some fun with it.

“Then you must know you’re pretty hot.”

That made him smile, and she liked the way his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “I’ve been told I’m attractive...until I open my mouth.”

Anger pushed through her amusement and for a few seconds she wished she could slap whoever had said that to him upside the head. “You just need to find a woman who’ll appreciate you.”

“I’d hoped getting out of the house was a step in that direction, but it doesn’t matter if I can’t make conversation.”

“I’ll help you.” His skeptical look made her laugh. “We can practice different scenarios until you’re comfortable approaching a woman and asking her out.”

“So you’re saying you’ll help me find a wife?”

Tori frowned, leaning her hip against the counter. “I thought you wanted to go on a date.”

“A date which will, hopefully, lead to a relationship, followed by marriage and kids. Isn’t that the point of dating?”

“Some people date to find people compatible for...hooking up.”

“That’s hooking up. Dating is dating.”

It was an unusual conversation to be having. “That seems very narrow.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I see a distinction, I guess. Don’t you?”

“I’ve never really analyzed it, especially since the last thing in the world I want is to get married.”

“Ever?”

“Ever. But I’ll still help
you.
”

“Why?”

She supposed that was a valid question. “Because you seem like a nice guy. I know Katie likes you. I don’t like seeing you bummed out just because one woman shut you down. And I like a challenge.”

He took a sip of his coffee, probably giving himself some time to think. “How do you think you’re going to make me more dateable?”

“We’ll spend some time together and I’ll get to know you a little better so I can help you play up your better qualities. And, like I said, we can have practice conversations. It’ll be fun, like one of those dating makeover shows.”

“So that makes you Professor Higgins and me Eliza Doolittle?”

“Huh?”

“From
My Fair Lady.
”

“Isn’t that some old musical? Like from the black-and-white days?”

“It’s not black-and-white. And, no, I’m not old enough to have seen it the first time around, either.”

“How old
are
you?”

“How come women can ask men how old they are, but it’s poor manners for a man to ask a woman the same question?”

“I’m twenty-seven.”

“Now I feel old.” He sighed. “I’m thirty-five.”

“Prime of your life, Max. The perfect time to find yourself a woman. What do you say?”

“I don’t think I’m going to get far sitting at this counter, so why not?”

“I’m busy tomorrow and, from what I’ve heard, Sundays you’ve always got a game on. How’s Monday evening sound? We can get together at your house, where it’s more private.”

“That sounds good. I’d be happy to make dinner.” He picked up his cell phone. “We should exchange numbers. Do you prefer talking or texting?”

“I guess texting, but talking’s easier for longer conversations.” He tapped at his phone, then looked up at her expectantly, so she gave him her cell number. She was pulling her phone out of her back pocket when she heard a telltale shutter sound. “What are you doing?”

“I’m horrible with names, so I like to attach a photo to each contact.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to ask? Then you’d get a nice picture instead of the side of my head while I’m trying to get my phone out of my pocket.”

“I’ll take another. You can say cheese.”

“Smart-ass.” When he pointed the phone at her, she was tempted to flip him the bird, but she settled for a saucy smile. Then, just because she’d had to go through it, she took a picture of him with her phone and saved it with his number. “So Monday, about six?”

“It’s a date.” He grinned. “Not the kind of date I was looking for, but it’s a good start.”

She definitely wasn’t the kind of date he was looking for, since she liked her relationships to end after a few hours and he was looking for until death did they part.

But he was a nice guy and she had a soft spot for underdogs, so she was going to do whatever she could to make sure Max found his Mrs. Crawford.

Chapter Three

Max was in his basement by eight o’clock the next morning, ready to get some work done. It had taken him longer than usual to fall asleep but, once he had, he’d slept soundly and he was well rested enough so his hands would be steady.

Sometimes, if he’d had a rough night or drank too much caffeine, his hands would shake and that wasn’t good when you were painting HO scale models. It was as though a full-size steam locomotive was zapped by a shrink ray until it fit in the palm of his hand while maintaining meticulous detail, right down to hoses and rivets.

As he looked at the shelf labeled Chesapeake and Ohio Railway, looking for a particular shade of yellow paint, he found himself whistling. It wasn’t something he did often, but as he ran the tune through his mind, he realized it was a song from
My Fair Lady.
Obviously, even if he wasn’t consciously thinking about it, his conversation with Tori was on his mind.

It was encouraging, having a plan. If not for Tori, he would probably have given up after his failed discussion with the woman at the diner and gone back to his usual routine. Now he was not only going to push forward, but he had the support of a friend.

Because it was a Saturday, Max only worked half a day. He was fairly rigid with his schedule because he’d, in the past, gotten so involved with his work, he’d all but lived in the basement. It hadn’t been healthy, so he made himself a schedule that included spending some time aboveground.

He was watching a really bad horror movie while paying bills when his phone rang. Hitting Mute on the remote instead of Pause, because he didn’t think he’d miss much, he answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hi, honey,” his mom said. “Are you working?”

“Nope. Just doing some bills and stuff.” He’d long ago stopped explaining to her he didn’t answer the phone while he was working because, no matter how often he did, she still asked him. “How’s everybody?”

“Great. The grandkids had a sleepover last night, so we’re enjoying the quiet this afternoon.” Max’s two older brothers had five kids between them, all as rowdy as their dads. “You wouldn’t believe how big they’re getting. You’re coming home for Thanksgiving, right?”

He thought about it for a few seconds. It was the beginning of October so, even if he did find himself in a relationship, it would be too soon for them to spend family holidays together. “I’m planning to be there. How’s Grams?”

“She’s doing really well, though I think we’ve finally managed to convince her to give up driving. Her reflexes aren’t what they used to be.”

That wasn’t news. The last time Max had gone back to Connecticut, back in July, Grams had driven up onto the curb and taken out a row of trash cans to avoid a small pothole.

He listened to his mom talk about the family for a while, while watching the horror movie play out silently on the television. His mom usually held up more than her share of the conversation because Max didn’t really care for phones and his mother didn’t care for long silences. They texted quite often, but she always called him at least once a month because she wanted to hear his voice.

“Are you seeing anybody?”

He frowned at the guy with the axe on-screen while debating on his answer. He wasn’t seeing anybody, but that could change in the near future. “I’m not dating anybody, but I have a new friend.”

“Really?” She drew the word out, sounding pleased, and he smiled. Since the day Max started kindergarten, his mom had worried about his inability to make friends. Thirty years later, it was still a big deal.

“Her name is Tori. She’s a waitress at the diner where I went for lunch, but she also works from home doing graphic design.”

“Oh, so she’s an artist, like you. How old is she? Is she smart?”

Max realized she might be getting the wrong idea. “She’s twenty-seven and she seems smart. But she’s only a friend, Mom.”

“Mmm-hmm. Is she pretty?”

“She’s attractive, yes. And easy to talk to. I like her, but we’re not going to date.”

“We’ll see,” she said, and that was the end of that.

Once she’d rung off with the promise of calling him again soon, Max unmuted the television, but he didn’t go back to the bills right away. Since the phone was still in his hand, he pulled up the photo album and tapped on the picture of Tori he’d taken last night.

Yes, she was definitely pretty. Her smile was one his mother would have described as cheeky, and it made her brown eyes crinkle just a little. The picture captured her personality, including her friendliness, and it made him smile.

Max didn’t usually take to new people in his life so easily, but he was glad he’d taken Josh’s advice to go to the diner. Tori was the perfect person to help him find a wife.

* * *

Movie night was a long-standing tradition among some of the women in Whitford. The first Saturday night of each month, they’d gather to watch a movie, eat snacks that weren’t very good for them and, sometimes, have a drink or two. This month it was Hailey’s turn to host, which worked well for Tori. Since they were friends, she’d managed to harass Hailey into grabbing a copy of
My Fair Lady
from the library and substituting it for the Sandra Bullock movie she’d had planned.

She got there early and met Hailey’s fiancé on his way out. Matt Barnett was a game warden who, back in the spring, had rescued Tori and Hailey when they got lost in the woods. He’d been on vacation at the time and his scruffiness had gone beyond manly and straight to backwoods hermit. But when he’d moved to Whitford—right next door to Hailey, actually—he’d been transformed into the
hot game warden
and eventually, despite her attempts not to, Hailey had fallen in love with him. They’d been engaged about a month now, and the house next door was once again empty.

Tori crouched to give some love to their black Lab, Bear, looking up at Matt. “Did she throw you out?”

He looked over his shoulder, then shook his head. “This house will be full of women in about a half hour. I didn’t need throwing. Since Liz is coming here, I’m heading to Drew’s.”

“Beer and baseball?”

“There might be beer, but we’re catching up on some paperwork and deciding if we have enough interest in a snowmobile safety course next month.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Have fun.”

As she neared the open front door, Tori could hear a vacuum running, so she didn’t bother knocking. When the screen door closed behind her, she kicked off her shoes and set them on the mat next to Hailey’s before heading to the kitchen.

She set the plate of cookies on the counter and snuck a few M&M’s out of the trail mix Hailey had made. Then she ate a few more.

“I’m here,” she called when the vacuum shut off, so she wouldn’t scare Hailey.

A minute later, her friend stepped into the kitchen. “How can a dog leave that much hair all over my house and not be bald?”

Hailey’s house was bright and cheery and, before she fell in love with an outdoorsy guy and his dog, it had always been immaculate. Now it was just
really
clean. “How’s the addition going? I saw it’s all sided now and blends right in with the garage.”

“It’s almost done.
Finally.
”

Tori had thought it was crazy to extend the garage to add a shower room until she was over one day when Matt got home after a work day that had ended with a long struggle to get a deer out of a bad patch of swampy mud. Then she understood why, even if he stripped in the garage, Hailey wouldn’t want him walking through the house and up the stairs to the shower.

Hailey peeled the plastic wrap off the plate of cookies so she could take one. “So tell me, why are we watching an old musical? I’ve heard that Sandra Bullock movie is funny and I’ve been waiting all month to watch it.”

“Somebody was talking about some professor and Eliza somebody and a makeover, and I was curious. That’s all.”

“Who was talking about that?”

“Max Crawford.”

Hailey’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned Max Crawford.”

“I didn’t realize we were keeping track.”

“Why was he talking about
My Fair Lady?
”

Tori knew she shouldn’t say anything, but Hailey was her best friend. “You can’t tell anybody.”

She nicked another cookie. “Promise.”

“I’m going to help him find a date. You know, help him be more comfortable talking to women.”

“This might be a dumb question, but who do you think he’s going to date?”

Tori tried to come up with a name, but none popped into her head under pressure. “There are plenty of single women in Whitford. I think.”

“Women who’ll date Max Crawford?”

Tori frowned at her friend. “What’s that supposed to mean? Max is a nice guy.”

“Half the town thinks he’s a serial killer.”

“Oh, come on. Everybody knows that’s just a joke.”

Hailey shrugged. “Even so, it’s kind of weird that nobody knows how he makes his money.”

“Probably because it’s nobody’s business.”

“Maybe
you
should date him.”

Tori gave her an
are you serious
look. “Really? He’s looking for a wife and you know how I feel about marriage. And if you say I just haven’t met the right man yet, I’m leaving. Right after I tell Fran you’re the one who keeps rearranging the canned vegetables on the shelf so they’re not in alphabetical order.”

“You wouldn’t.”

They heard a knock on the screen door, and then the slight squeak of its hinges. “Hailey?”

“In the kitchen!”

Rose Davis walked in with her daughter, Katie, and a big basket of what Tori knew would be amazing baked goods. It didn’t even matter what was under the towel. It would be so delicious, Tori would be hard-pressed not to make herself sick.

“I’ve been crazy-busy, so I’m claiming credit for half of Rosie’s basket,” Katie said. “I didn’t have time to make or buy anything. What are we watching tonight, anyway?”

“My Fair Lady.”

Both women paused, but it was Rose who spoke. “What made you pick that movie?”

Tori tensed, giving Hailey a look she hoped would remind her she’d promised not to tell anybody about her Max makeover.

“I thought it would be fun to have a sing-along.” Hailey smiled. “And Audrey Hepburn never goes out of style.”

Tori’s aunt Jilly showed up next, with Gavin’s buffalo chicken dip, followed closely by Liz and Paige, who’d left Sarah home with Mitch. Nola Kendrick brought homemade soft pretzel rods with a sinful cheese dip, and Fran brought a bag of chips and the makings for margaritas.

As the movie went on, Tori realized several things. One, they’d all made fun of the movie choice but, strangely enough, they all seemed to know all the words to the songs.

Two, Liz Kowalski Miller did not have a single margarita. Since she knew Liz usually had a couple of drinks during movie nights and, combined with the mysterious daytime errand Drew had accompanied her on, Tori suspected the town’s gossip mill was going to have some good news to chew on very soon. But, since she wasn’t sure if Liz and Drew had told their families yet, Tori kept her mouth shut.

And, third—and most importantly—it occurred to her that Nola Kendrick was single. She was in her early thirties and worked at the town hall. Her honey-blonde hair was cut into a soft bob, she dressed somewhat conservatively, and she was a very nice lady. A little on the quiet side, but Tori had only really crossed paths with her when she was at work or at movie nights.

She just might be the perfect woman for Max.

* * *

At five-fifty on Monday evening, Max sat at the kitchen island, his hands folded in front of him. As a child, he’d coped with anxious waiting by pacing the floor. When his parents had tried to break the habit by making him sit, he’d drummed his fingers on the table. He didn’t particularly like driving his parents crazy, though, so over time he’d learned to sit quietly with his fingers intertwined so he couldn’t drum them.

This was the first time he was having a visitor to his home who wasn’t a sports buddy. They weren’t going to watch a game and munch on potluck snacks. Instead, they were going to have conversations and eat a meal together.

Even though he liked Tori and was already considering her a friend, he wasn’t accustomed to playing the attentive host role. And he’d grown up in a family of social extroverts, so he’d always been able to fade into the background and let them do all the talking.

When he heard her car pull into the driveway five minutes later, he walked to the door and went out to meet her, so she’d know to come into the kitchen. Nobody ever used the front door.

“Did you have any trouble finding the house?” he asked, because people always seemed to ask that the first time they had visitors over.

“It’s Whitford. Believe it or not, I already knew where your house was. I didn’t know it was so cute, though.”

“Oh, good. I always dreamed of having a cute house,” he said, smiling when she rolled her eyes at his sarcasm.

While he’d made some changes to the interior— notably to the basement—he’d left the outside primarily as it was when he bought it, including the window boxes that had started their lives as cranberry, but had faded to a dark shade of pink. Miniature white-picket fencing lined the walkway and surrounded the shrubbery along the front of the ranch-style home. He assumed it was the flower boxes that led her to use the word
cute.

“Let me guess,” she said. “It all came with the house.”

“Actually, yes.” He led her into the kitchen, and she looked around in a casual way, as if she was trying not to be too nosy.

“We had movie night on Saturday,” she said. “I talked Hailey into showing
My Fair Lady.
”

“Ah. So now you get the Professor Higgins and Eliza Doolittle reference.”

“Yes, but at the cost of watching one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen.”

Her vehemence surprised him. “While it’s not my favorite musical—which admittedly is not my favorite kind of movie to begin with—I don’t think it was
that
bad. And I can’t be alone or it wouldn’t be a classic.”

“I don’t care if the whole world loved it. The movie sucked, Max. He finally realizes he loves her and wants her to stay and, instead of pushing her up against the wall, kissing her until she couldn’t breathe and then banging her right there on the floor, he tells her she can fetch his slippers?”