The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

“Mrs. Yearwood?”

“No, but if you’re looking for Max, he’s in the shower.”

The guy nodded. “This was left behind at the spa. It has Mr. Yearwood’s license and credit card inside.”

“Oh. Yes, we were at the spa until just a little while ago.” I took the wallet. “Thank you very much. I’ll make sure he gets it.”

The man turned to walk away, but I stopped him. “Oh—hang on a second.”

I figured Max would do the same, so I opened his wallet and fished out some cash, which I handed to the guy. “Thank you.”

Max opened the bathroom door as I was about to pass on the way back to my room. He had only a plush, white towel around his narrow waist, and a cloud of steam billowed out from behind him. My eyes lined up with his pectoral muscles, which were sculpted to perfection, and two lucky water droplets sluiced toward an eight-pack of honed abs. I couldn’t take my eyes off them as they raced to the finish line, which seemed to be at some point between the super-sexy V muscles of his pelvis.

After a period of time most definitely longer than it should have been, I blinked myself out of my stupor and cleared my throat. “Umm…” But I couldn’t for the life of me remember what I was going to say or why I was even in his room.

“Did you…need me?” Max lifted a brow, a slight smirk on his face.

I tried to look anywhere but at his gorgeous body. Yet he was just so right there and vividly beautiful. It seemed a waste not to enjoy the view. Plus, I didn’t think he’d mind. Nevertheless, while I was busy trying to find a safe landing place for my eyes, I saw the leather wallet in my hand.

“Oh!” I held it up. “The spa sent up your wallet. You must’ve left it there. That’s why I was in your room. I heard the knock at the door.”

“Damn, and here I thought maybe you’d come to help me dry off.”

“Uhh… Our food will be here soon.”

Max moved closer. He ran his knuckles along my throat. “We could skip it, and I’ll eat something else.”

Oh my.

The large suite suddenly felt small as Max watched me. I really wanted to just rip the towel off the man. But then another knock came at the door.

I shook my head and cleared my throat. “I’ll get it. It’s probably dinner.”

Max smiled ruefully. “Shame. My idea sounded much better.”





CHAPTER 13




* * *



Max



“If I’d known dinner was going to be this fancy, I would’ve dressed a little nicer,” I said stepping back out of the bathroom in sweats and a T-shirt.

“I kind of liked your outfit before.” Georgia smiled.

“Oh yeah?” I thumbed toward the bathroom. “I’d be happy to change back.”

She laughed. “I’m sure you would. But come on, let’s eat. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I saw the food. It looks delicious, and how beautiful is this table? Bone china, sterling silver, crystal—it’s nicer than most restaurants.” Georgia pointed to the middle of the table. “They even brought candles.”

There was a small box of wooden matches next to them. I walked over and picked them up. “Mind if I light these and lose the lights?”

“No, I think that would be perfect.”

Georgia looked gorgeous lit by only the flame from the candle. I’d ordered two bottles of wine, so I poured us each a glass and settled in. She’d ordered ravioli, and I got the steak, but we wound up sharing our plates again.

“I know I said this earlier, but I had such a good time today,” she said. “Thank you again for planning everything. I still can’t get over that my hair is red right now.”

“I had a good time, too. But considering I enjoyed myself when I came over while you were sick, I’m pretty sure it’s the company rather than the plans that I like.”

She smiled. “Can I ask you something?”

I shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

Georgia shook her head. “Why in the world are you single? I mean, you’re attentive, thoughtful, funny—and you can clearly wear the hell out of a white towel.”

I smiled. “Thank you. But I’m not always so attentive. In fact, I’ve been accused of being just the opposite on more than one occasion. My last girlfriend told me I made her feel neglected, that she was never a priority. It was probably our biggest issue during the time we were together.”

“Really?”

I nodded.

“Were you…always like that with her? Or did things just sort of wane a bit?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think I was any different in the beginning. But she might have a different opinion if you asked her what went wrong.”

Georgia was quiet for a moment.

I could see she wanted to say something. “What are you thinking about right now?” I asked.

She shook her head. “You’re really good at reading me. I was wondering if things changed…you know, after you slept together?”

I shook my head. “We slept together on the first date, so I don’t think so. I take it you’re worried that if we sleep together, you’ll wake up to a different guy the next morning?”

“I guess I’m just trying to figure out what the catch is. How you can be this great and yet you’re single?”