Page 54 of The Charming Checklist
“You could probably grow heirloom seeds here.”
“I’ve considered it.”
“Max, this is wonderful.”
“I’ll finish here later,” he said, pulling her to him. “You got away. This is good.”
She ruffled his hair. “Go back to the potting and I’ll fix you some coffee. Have you had lunch?”
“No, but I’m going to assume you want to ply me with coffee first.”
“You’re right about that, of course.”
“I’m ready to be your taste tester. But I also... I bought some food. I figured I should.” He scratched at his beard stubble.
Oh, my. Was she domesticating Max Del Toro? She loved that thought and held on to it. “First, coffee.”
In the kitchen, she busied herself with the first of several batches of coffee. She wanted to give him plenty of samples. Strains of arabica and robusta that she’d perfected. It took her several minutes, using the French press, then she poured the samples into the small espresso cups she’d brought with her to present her product. She carried them one by one outside and set them on the glass patio table.
Sub lifted his head from the ground where he’d been napping, no doubt at the wonderful aroma.
“Try this,” she said, handing him the first sample.
She watched as he drank, observing his expression. His every eye movement. But if she expected for him to do a “soft-shoe” as he’d joked, that didn’t happen now, either. He was still very difficult to read.
He nodded. “Good.”
“Isn’t it rich and flavorful?”
“Yep.”
“How about this one?” She offered and watched him drink. “Because I think it’s a little deeper in texture myself.”
“Granted, this coffee is far superior to what we serve. But honestly? I can’t tell the differences. They’re just all...um, rich.”
“I understand. Over time, you develop a palate for this sort of thing.”
“I believe you.” He pulled her into his arms. “Want to fool around?”
Oh, yeah. She did.
Coffee forgotten, Max pulled her back into the house, where he took off his shirt in the living room and then quickly divested her of her jeans and tank top. Twisting and turning and clawing at each other, they eventually made their way to the bedroom where Max once again proved his prowess. A few hours later, they lay wrapped around each other, Ava’s head on his shoulder.
Her fingers glided down his pecs to his abs and back again. “I have some bad news.”
“Uh-oh. The Colombian farmer isn’t going to let you go that easily.”
“No!” She laughed.
“No? Because I’ll kill him.”
Ava propped her chin on his chest. “Max, be serious. My mother is staying with me for a while.”
“How long of a while?”
“That’s just it. She wouldn’t say. As long as it takes.”
“As long as what takes?”
