The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

“Well, we put one foot in front of the other and walked about two blocks from the Garden after the game ended.” She lifted her chin toward where Max was talking to the bartender while waiting for our drinks. “I honestly don’t remember much after that gorgeous beast of a man flashed those dimples and asked us to come out with him.”

I sighed. “I know the feeling. One minute I was waiting outside the locker room, swearing I was returning his lucky charm and saying thank you and goodbye, and the next I was sitting here. I think the dimples are hypnotic or something.”

Max returned to our booth with two glasses of wine and a bottle of water. He slid into the seat across from us and looked back and forth between Maggie and me.

“Why does it feel like the two of you sitting on one side is more dangerous than skating on an eighth-of-an-inch blade toward a three-hundred-pound defender with no teeth?”

Maggie grinned. “The man knows how to read a room.”

“I wish I was better at reading your friend.” His eyes shifted to meet mine a moment. “Tell me how to get your friend to go out with me.”

She wagged her pointer. “Not so fast. I need to make sure you’re right for her. I have a few questions first.”

Max smiled. “I can see why you two are good friends already.” He lifted his arms to rest along the back of the booth. “Ask away, Maggie.”

“Dogs or cats?”

“Dogs. I have two.”

“What kind?”

“A mutt and a Pomeranian”

I laughed. “You have a Pomeranian?”

Max nodded. “It wasn’t by choice. My brother bought it for his kids for Christmas last year. His one daughter couldn’t stop sneezing, and the other two couldn’t stop crying after he told them they had to give the dog away. The younger one suckered me into taking it so they can still see it sometimes.”

“How’d she sucker you?”

Max grinned. “She smiled at me.”

We both laughed. “What are the dogs’ names?” Maggie asked.

“Fred and Four. I adopted Fred from the pound. My nieces named the Pomeranian. I always called the girls Thing One, Thing Two, and Thing Three, so my brother started calling the dog Thing Four while they were trying to think of a name for it. It stuck, but I shortened it.”

“What do the dogs do when you’re on the road?”

“I have someone who comes and stays in my guest room. They take care of my apartment and my boys. It’s actually two sisters who do it as a business. I give them my road schedule in advance, and they work it out between themselves for the season. They’re dog lovers. It’s great because the dogs get to stay in their own home, so it doesn’t upset them too much when I leave for a few days. One of the sisters sells homemade organic dog treats, and she uses my kitchen when she stays, so they sample every batch. Sometimes I think they’re pissed when I come back.”

“Do you have any pictures of them?” Maggie leaned in. “If you do, it’s bonus points. Assholes don’t usually have pictures of their dogs on their phones.”

Max dug his cell from his pocket. “I think there are a few videos of them snoring, too. They’re bed hogs, and one snores louder than the other.”

Maggie pointed to me. “Oh, so like Georgia.”

“I do not snore.”

Maggie deadpanned to Max. “She snores. Loud.”

I laughed. “Just shut up and let’s see the dogs.”

Max punched in a code on his phone and slid it across the table.

Maggie picked it up and blinked a few times. “You’re just going to hand me your phone and let me look through your pictures?”

Max shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“I don’t know. Every man I’ve ever met hovers nearby, ready to snatch the phone out of your hands when a woman so much as looks at one photo.”

He laughed. “I don’t have anything on there to hide.”

Maggie started to swipe through the photos.

Max pointed. “There’s a folder called dogs somewhere. My oldest niece made it. There’re more pictures than you could ever want to see in it. My nieces make me text them photos. I made the mistake of deleting them once, and the little one cried. Now I keep them all.”

I leaned over Maggie’s shoulder as she opened the folder and started to swipe through. Most of the photos were just the dogs, but Max was in a few, too. I noticed her swipe lingered when we came to one of a shirtless Max wearing a backwards baseball hat. The man had an eight-pack carved into golden skin. She caught my eye and smirked.

“Do you have Georgia’s number in here?” Maggie asked.

“I do.”

She hit a few buttons, and my phone vibrated inside my purse. She winked. “I thought you might like to use that one for his contact photo. Just in case you forget what he looks like.”

When we were done looking through pictures of the dogs, Maggie slid the phone to the other side of the table. “Back to my questions. I think you were trying to distract me by showing those adorable photos.”

“You’re the one who brought up dogs,” Max said.

“Still.” Maggie shrugged. “Okay, next question. What’s the longest you’ve ever let food sit on the floor before you picked it up and ate it?”