Page 24 of Smooth Talk

“Of course not. I love my job, and your mom is wonderful. Like, so great. She brings me cookies daily,” I say smiling when a look of pure jealousy crosses his features. “Pilar’s snickerdoodles are to die for.” Rubbing it in a bit as he grunts in agreement. “Your mother is so knowledgeable about the history of the cottage and Willow Creek. Listening to her stories makes the day go by so much faster.”

“She has a master’s in history and did a lot of research on this area in college. She loves her home.” He says smiling, the love for his mother shining through.

“It shows. Did you know that Rose Cottage wasn’t named for the rose trellis that covers the eastern wall? Most people think it is. I know I did. But it was actually named for your great grandmother?”

He smiles and nods like he’s heard this story before, “My great-great grandfather had it built for his in-laws when his wife was pregnant with their first child. She was feeling homesick but wasn’t well enough to travel. So, he built them a home away from home to visit their daughter and grandchildren. As my mother tells it, he was very much in love with his wife and named the cottage after her.”

“It’s so romantic. It almost seems like that kind of love doesn’t exist anymore,” I lament, swept away with the sweetness of their story.

“I don’t know,” he smiles, “I think my parents still have that kind of love.”

“Oh, so do mine,” I add quickly. “I just meant that I think it’s lost on our generation. Everything revolves around social media and image; not enough emphasis is placed on personal interaction and substance.” I hadn’t meant to get philosophical, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Besides, he got pretty deep earlier, and I don’t feel as uncomfortable around him anymore.

“You’re something else, Poppy Monroe.” His dark eyes are twinkling as they look into mine. It’s mesmerizing. I need to blink and change the subject before my lusty thoughts for this man get out of hand. Again. I mentally tamp down my wild ideas.

“Are you having second thoughts about your childhood playhouse being transformed back into its intended purpose?” I ask him.

“Nah. We’re grown. We don’t need a playhouse anymore. And it helps my mother get what she’s always wanted— Mimi close by. Have you met her yet?”

“Yes. Oh my gosh, she’s adorable!” I smile broadly thinking of the sweet lady. She’d love Harp, they’re kindred spirits. An introduction needs to happen soon. “Well, you’ll be glad to hear that not all of your childhood memories will be destroyed. I saved some things I found while clearing out the loft. I’m going to have a nice surprise for everyone on unveiling day. I can’t wait to see Mimi’s face. She’s gonna love it!”

He smiles broadly at me, and I lose myself in his eyes again. He really is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. The band is taking a short break. That’s when I realize he’s leading me from the dancefloor toward the bar. We must’ve been spinning around out there for close to an hour. I’m missing the proximity of his body already, but I am thirsty.

We’re pulled in different directions by guests shortly after getting our drinks. I overhear a few of his conversations about land conservation and construction for a local youth center. Both of which he supports. I move around the room chatting about business, but I’m never far from Grayson, and his warm gaze finds me more than once across the crowded room. It’s intense; it almost feels like being stalked. But not in a creepy, I-need-a-restraining-order type way; it’s more like an I-need-naked-sexy-times kind of way.

Good Lord, I need a distraction. I find one chatting with Caroline, Mimi and Violet about the cottage; twenty feet away from him. That should be enough space to let me breathe and slow my erratic heartbeat. Mase cuts in soon after I do. “So, I hear you’re destroying our childhood retreat,” he ribs good-naturedly, throwing a heavily muscled arm across my shoulders bringing me into the side of his enormous body.

“Mason Nicolas!” Caroline scolds, softly slapping his bicep, which is about as high as she can reach. The man has to be six and a half feet tall and at least 250 pounds of solid muscle. His sandy blond hair is a shade darker than Caroline’s, but their mossy green eyes match perfectly. He’s also rocking some serious stubble and that charm that seems to have infected the entire Maxwell clan.

I shift over to smile up at him, “I’m making some alterations. You can’t expect Mimi to share her space with paper airplanes, nerf guns and mud pies, can you?” I tease.

His smile is infectious. “I guess not. Tell me the tree swing is still there though.”

Violet interrupts, “Mase, you broke that swing when you were 15 trying to ‘fly’ onto the roof, remember?” He ducks his head sheepishly.

“I’ve always been a heavy weight, and I can’t resist a dare. You should know Vi, you’re the one who made me do it.”

She sucks in a shocked breath, “It wasn’t my idea to see how many paper planes you could get stuck up there.”

“But it was your idea on how to get them down,” he chides.

“Nope, I am not taking credit for your hairbrained ideas. I voted we should climb the rose trellis,” she states proudly, like the idea of climbing a rickety, century-old structure meant to hold less than a hundred pounds of vines is so much better. It’s a wonder none of them broke their necks when they were younger.

He snaps his fingers, “Sorry six, you’re right. It was Ash’s idea.” He says like he’s had an epiphany. “Or maybe it was Hud’s; dangerous combo,” he chuckles.

I’m assuming Ash is Asher Maxwell and Hud is Hudson Walker. I think Em mentioned them being friends. I can’t spend too much time pondering that because I’m still stuck on another quandary, “I’m sorry did you say sis, or six?”

Mase smiles again, his eyes crinkling in the corners. Dang, this whole family is unfairly attractive. He drops his arm and moves slightly to the side (Presumably to give himself more room; he likes to talk with his hands.). “Six—It’s Vi’s nickname. She’s the sixth Maxwell, but also VI in roman numerals is six. O came up with it. Super awesome, huh?”

“What’s super awesome?” That deep voice causes the butterflies to reemerge and flutter around my stomach and up my esophagus. The heat from his body sends tingles down my spine, and I have to fight to shake off the chill running down my spine. He’s snuck up behind me again. It feels like all their eyes are trained on us.

“Our nicknames. I was explaining Six’s to Poppy,” Mase states helpfully. I look over my shoulder and catch Grayson’s gaze. Mistake. He’s too much. And at this range? He’s lethal. I’m caught in his tractor beam, and he’s slowly pulling me in.

“Vi has nothing on you, MNM.” Grayson breaks our eye contact and shoots a smirk at his brother.

“Why do they call you MNM?” I ask Mason, hesitantly.

“Because I melt in yo…” he doesn’t get a chance to finish bore Violet slaps her hand over his mouth and cuts him off.

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