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“I’m not gonna say it,” he retorted and winked at her before looking toward one of the tables gawking at them. “Oh hey, is that a porterhouse steak, man? That looks divine. Kitten, I think I’m gonna get a big ol’ steak. Is that good, buddy?”
“Um, yes… why, yes, it is,” the man answered, looking flummoxed.
Elana grabbed Max’s hand and tugged him back toward the hostess, trying to get him to focus. He was obviously having a good time, working the room, and wanting to smooth over the attention he’d suddenly drawn to them. She just hoped he didn’t get them kicked out before she ate something. She was starving.
“My girl wants me…”
“Your attention,” she corrected, rolling her eyes in disbelief.
“So you are my girl?”
“You are impossible…”
“Impossible to resist?”
“Sure,” she blurted out and saw his wide smile. “We’ll go with that if you’ll just take your seat, please.”
But as Elana was about to sit down, Max grabbed her chair and pulled it out for her.
Sitting down, she expected to see him take his seat, but instead, he picked up her hand where she’d just set down her purse, brought it to his lips, and kissed the back of her hand like she was something special to him. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she met his eyes.
“You look like the best thing this place has…” he murmured appreciatively and then turned her hand over, kissing her palm.
Her heart turned over wildly in her chest.
Max accepted his menu from the hostess, who looked as flabbergasted, wistful, and surprised as Elana was, eyeing the man who was obviously showing he was interested and not caring who knew it. He took his seat, opposite Elana, and looked at the menu.
Before looking up at her over the top of it.
Elana was sitting there, unsure what to say.
This wasn’t an act.
Max Carpenter was actually wildly flirting with her, trying to impress her, and going out of his way to make her happy. He was plying her with attention, keeping her laughing with his jokes and antics, and doing all the things that a man who was admiring a woman would do.
“Red wine… or would you prefer a white wine?”
“A sweet red,” she whispered numbly, only to see him nod. Looking distractedly up at the waitress who’d arrived, greeting them, and obviously talking to Max directly.
Only to see him reach across the table and take her hand.
“My girl will have a glass of sweet red wine – and I’ll have the same.”
“We have all sorts of wines, sir. We have a…”
“Elana?” Max said, turning to her. “I’ll have to defer to you, kitten.”
Again, he was calling her ‘kitten’?
“A house red, please…” she began and saw his soft smile of approval.
As the woman walked off, Max smiled at her. His thumb was grazing the back of her knuckles, almost in a caress. It was like he was not just crossing the line but jumping all in and doing the backstroke just to prove he could.
“You’re a lot to handle…”
“Never claimed otherwise,” he smiled.
“Remember, we are in public and should probably behave politely since this is a nice place.”
