Page 81 of Smooth Sailing
His brother grinned. “Good morning, Grumpy McGrump. I’m making sure you don’t make our mom cry by bailing on breakfast.”
Max blinked. “How the hell did you know I was thinking about bailing?”
Drake shrugged. “I’ve heard from a friend that Paloma’s heading to Louisiana. Are you going to let me in, or should we have this conversation on your porch?”
He stepped back, and his brother came inside. “How in the world do you even know? Didn’t you drive in this morning?” Max asked.
“Last night,” his brother replied. “Do you have coffee?” He made his way toward the kitchen.
Hadn’t Emmaline left early to meet someone? Max’s spine straightened as the dots formed and connected. “Who do you know that would even know about the Louisiana job, let alone so quickly?”
“Like I said, a friend.” Drake suddenly seemed way too focused on the coffee machine.
Max leaned against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Who did you spend last night with?”
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
“You’re not gonna be able to kiss anybody after I punch you in the mouth,” Max grumbled.
“Temper, temper,” his brother laughed.
“Are you seeing Paloma’s sister?” Max asked.
“Define seeing.”
“Great,” Max muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Emmaline deserved better than his brother’s usual hit-and-run routine, especially fresh off her divorce. “Try not to be yourself with this one, okay?”
Drake’s eyes flashed, his easy smile hardening at the edges. “Don’t worry about me, or I should say, her. She’s working some stuff out of her system. We’re enjoying each other.” He grabbed two insulated mugs, handing one to Max. “Focus on yourself. And Paloma.”
He filled his coffee and said, “There’s nothing to focus on. She’s in Louisiana. We’ll talk when she gets back.” If she has the time. Damn, that thought was bitter as the brewing coffee.
Drake opened a cupboard, closed it, and opened another. “What are you looking for?” Max asked.
“Ingredients for the muffins. It’s too late to make them here. We’ll take the stuff over and make them at Mom’s.”
A laugh huffed out of Max despite himself. “By ‘we’ll’ you mean me, right?”
“Yup.”
“Get changed. We’ll drive over there together. We can talk.”
“I don’t need to talk.
Drake rolled his eyes. “Don’t be that dude.”
“What dude?”
“The one who won’t talk about his feelings, but will drown in them, making himself and everybody around him miserable.”
“Then don’t be around me, asshole,” Max replied without any heat.
“No can do. I kinda like you. And—”
Max raised his brows. “Kinda?”
“I’m still pissed about my Lego city you destroyed.”
“Dude, I was eight.”
