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“I’m trying, but my husband keeps…”
“Distracting you?” he interrupted innocently. “It will be all right, I promise.”
“Oh my gosh, Max… I swear…”
“Good night,” he murmured against her hair. She grumbled a brief ‘good night’ to him in return before nuzzling her cheek against his shirt. She heard his loud sigh of contentment and smiled.
CHAPTER 13
ELANA
Sunday
Early the next morning, Elana awoke to the sun streaming in through her window almost directly in her face, and realized she was alone. Listening, she heard whistling coming from the kitchen and heard Max singing to himself. Recognizing the song, she couldn’t help but smile.
He was singing The Spice Girls – and she was here for it!
Slipping out of bed silently, she padded down the hallway and paused. Sure enough, Max was standing in front of the stove, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, doing a bunch of wild dancing and shaking his butt. He was whispering the words to the song playing on his phone quietly, trying not to wake her as he cooked what looked like French toast.
Leaning against the doorjamb, she stood there silently admiring him and realizing that if this was what life could possibly be like… this was going to be pretty cool. Not a second later, Max had the spatula in one hand and oven mitt on the other one putting them up in the air. He was shaking his shoulders, pivoting on his foot in a circle, and spotted her a few moments later.
The man wasn’t shy at all.
“Cool! You’re up…” and turned his phone up as “Spice Up Your Life” played loudly. He flung the spatula, moved the skillet, and dropped the oven mitt quickly, turning and dancing toward her as he held out his hand.
“Ohhh no,” she laughed nervously.
“Yup!”
“I can’t dance…”
He took her hand and pulled her against him in a brusque manner, placing one arm wrapped around her middle while his other hand lay flat against hers in a warped version of a merengue. He pulled and pushed, gliding her through some quick steps before spinning her and pulling her back to him again.
“Next part, ya’ gotta shake ‘em…” he blurted out between the lyrics.
“What?”
And released her, backing away, arching his back from her, and shook his shoulders, arms in the air, almost facing the ceiling,and she knew.
“I am not doing that,” she said flatly.
“Awww c’mon?!” He stood up abruptly and slumped his shoulders. “Who’s going to see you? Me? I mean, we were having a moment and…”
“Someone’s in a chipper mood this morning.”
“And someone’s a Grumpy Gus.”
“I’m not grumpy. I just do not want to shake my boobs at you.”
“Why not – I might like it.”
“I know you will – which is why I’m not doing it!”
Max chuckled, winked at her, and picked up the spatula, turning the French toast, before looking over his shoulder. “Married twenty-four hours, and my wife already knows all my dirty tricks.”
“I can read you like a book, mister.”
“A braille one?”
