Page 44 of Written with Love

Juliette grinned. “Not at all.”

They lingered at the table long after their plates were empty, talking about everything and nothing—his childhood summers at the lake just outside of Portland, the places she still wanted to visit, the best and worst movies they’d ever seen. It was easy, effortless. Then Max stood and offered his hand, pulling her up from her chair.

“Come on,” he said, his voice low. “Let’s eat dessert out on the new deck. You take the wine, I’ll grab the dessert.” He handed her their glasses, which he had just filled again.

Then he grabbed two containers from the fridge, and she followed him outside while trying not to spill their wine.

The warm night air wrapped around them when they stepped outside. She was surprised to find two chairs and a gas fireplace sitting on the deck.

“I didn’t see these arrive,” she said, admiring the cozy spot.

“They came a few days ago. I had the guys put them together in the barn and then bring them up after you left.” He smiled. “I plan on putting a rug down and maybe hanging some string lights.”

“This is so cozy and, wow, look at the sunset.”

“Best view in the world. Without climbing a bunch of stairs.” He motioned to the lighthouse beside them. “Sit.”

She sat and set their wine on a small table between the two chairs. Then he handed her a container and a spoon. “Bon appétit,” he said, sitting beside her. The sun had disappeared and Max reached up and turned on the fire pit. “I know it’s probably warm enough, but I want to test this bad boy out.”

“It’s perfect for tonight.” She removed the lid from the little glass container and held in a gasp. “You made crème brûlée?” She smiled.

“I hope it’s as good as it looks.” He removed the lid from his own dessert.

She used her spoon to crack the hard shell top and then scooped a mouthful into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she moaned. “How did you know that crème brûlée is my favorite?”

“I didn’t. Lucky guess, I suppose.” He smiled after he took a bite of his dessert. “Okay, adding this to my favorites. Third times a charm.” When she looked confused, he added, “My first two tries were not as successful.”

“The first time I made chocolate chip cookies, I added a cup of salt. To my defense, my mother’s cookbook pages were stuck together and the print had faded.”

He chuckled. “I bet you make great chocolate chip cookies now.”

“You know it,” she teased, and finished off her dessert. “I make batches of them for Christmas and gift them to my friends every year.”

“Lucky friends.” He set his bowl down and reached for her hand.

“I’m sorry about earlier with Gabriella,” she said, feeling the need to soothe whatever feelings were swirling around in him. “I didn’t want her to spoil our evening. If she was really in love with you.”

“Don’t be.” He squeezed her hand gently. “She has a line of men waiting for her call.”

“Yeah, but none of them are you,” she pointed out and instantly felt stupid. “What I mean is…”

His chuckle stopped her. “I think I get it. I don’t have a big head. Gabriella likes attention and, right now, we’re getting a lot of it with this place. Plus, she wants what she can’t have.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Exactly.”

“Juliette?” He turned towards her.

“Hm?” She shifted and watched the firelight wash across his face, enjoying his features in the dancing light.

“I really want to take you inside. To be with you, not just tonight.” He frowned slightly. “Every moment you’re here, I wish time would stand still. Then, when you leave, I spend every waking moment thinking about you.”

She smiled. “Me too.”

She stood up and pulled him to his feet. “Max, turn off the fireplace and take me inside.”

He kissed her first, a kiss deep and so filled with passion she swayed. He turned off the fire, then he took her hand and led her inside.

She’d seen the new furniture in his bedroom when he’d led her outside to the deck. The new king-size bed, nightstands, and dresser were all sturdy looking antique models that fit perfectly in the environment.