Page 38 of Smooth Sailing
It was Jackson’s turn to look confused. “Why? It’s not like you’ll be fucking on the table at a client’s house.”
Max choked on a swallow and stumbled over the gravel. He quickly regained his composure. “Right, of course not,” he said, forcing a laugh that soundedstrained. He picked up his pace, hoping the brisk walk would explain away the heat creeping up his neck. “That would be so unprofessional.”
“Holy shit, London! What did you two do?” Jackson said to Max’s back, catching up a second later.
“Noth—”
Jackson shoved Max playfully. “Don’t fucking tell me nothing, you liar.”
“All I’m saying is—”
“Save it.” Jackson’s grin widened. “Your face says everything. You kinky bastards did something, didn’t you?’
Max kept walking. There was no point in denying it. “We might have gotten a little carried away.” He dipped his chin and looked at his friend. “At a client’s house.”
Jackson’s eyes widened. “Were they home? Like, watching?” He wiggled his brows. “Thatiskinky.”
Max snorted. “No, you asshole. But they came home. We were nearly caught.”
Jackson tilted his head to the sky and laughed. When the asshole got control of himself, he said, “And that’s why you should just fuck. Get it out of your systems, then maybe it won’t spill into your working hours.”
“Does that even work? The whole, ‘get it out of your system?’” He didn’t think there was any ‘getting Paloma out of his system.’ He’d only grow more addicted to her.
Jackson shrugged. “It does for me.”
Max fought the urge to roll his eyes. That was because Jackson was in love with Hope. He couldn’t give anyone else a chance when the guy was hung up on his best friend.
“Look, man,” Jackson continued. “Sometimes you’ve gotta take a risk. If you both feel it, why fight it? Life’s too short for what ifs.”
Max mulled over his friend’s words. Despite Jackson’s obliviousness to his own romantic situation, there was some truth to what he was saying. Maybe fighting the attraction was causing more problems than it would solve.
He could taste the freedom of giving in to their attraction, of exploring their electric connection without restraint. But the stakes were high; their professional reputation and hard-won projects could all come crashing down if things went wrong.
And yet,the thought of never knowing, of always wondering “what if,” was equally unbearable. Almost as unbearable as the upcoming two-week trip to Traverse City for the Sterling project. The two of them stay in the same house away from their usual environments.
“You still with us, London?” Jackson’s voice broke through his reverie.
Max blinked. He’d stopped walking. “Yeah, just thinking about that job I mentioned. Paloma and I are heading out of town for two weeks to start the groundwork.”
“Two weeks, huh? Sounds like the perfect opportunity to ‘release that tension. ’”
“It’s a work thing, man.”
“Even better!” Jackson clapped Max’s shoulder. “Two weeks of ‘professional development,’ if you know what I mean.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Max groan-laughed.
Jackson held up his hands in mock surrender, but his smirk said it all. “I’m just saying, two weeks is a long time to dance around each other.”
“It is,” Max sighed. “But we’ll keep it professional. It’s what needs to happen.” Unless she was sure about changing things. He couldn’t take the back and forth.
He pushed open the door to the diner. Two weeks in Traverse City. The ball was in her court, and he’d respect whatever she decided.
But damn if a huge part of him hoped she’d change her mind.
Chapter Eighteen
October 10th, 4:45 p.m.
