Waiting for Willa (Big Sky, #3)(14)

“How are you?” Max asks, watching me closely.

“I’m totally fine,” I lie easily and smile at Maisey Henderson, who just walked in with her sister, Brooke.

Max cocks his head to the side, then walks around to stand next to me.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“Just working.”

He brushes his knuckles down my cheek, and I swallow hard.

“How has your day been?”

“Great.”

He leans in to whisper in my ear. “I will walk through bullshit with you as long as you don’t bullshit me.”

I sigh. “Been a shit day,” I whisper back. “And, yes, I could use your help with Alex’s homework. It’s math.”

“I can do math in my sleep,” he reminds me, making me grin.

I only passed sophomore trigonometry because of Max.

“I appreciate the help, and I know Alex will get a kick out of it. He likes you.”

He smiles. “I like him, too. Almost as much as I like his mama.”

And with that, he winks and hurries off to find my son.

“Oh, and your car is possessed!” I yell at Max’s back.

He just waves, not looking back at me, and I can’t help but grin.

“Gotta love the Lord for making things like that,” Maisey says with a lazy grin as she joins me at the counter, laying a pair of shoes on the glass.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I reply, doing my best to school my face and ignore the redness in my cheeks.

“Sure, you don’t,” she says with a snort. “I love these shoes.”

“So do I,” I reply, happy to change the subject to my favorite topic: fashion. I chat with Maisey and Brooke for about ten minutes before they hurry off.

About thirty minutes before closing time, Max and Alex come out of my office, smiling and joking about something.

It’s a bit alarming to see my son enjoying a man who isn’t his grandfather. It makes me wonder if I’m doing right by him by not being married.

A boy needs a father.

Before I can think about that in depth, Max says, “Alex and I are going to go get some takeout for dinner so it’s ready when you’re done here.”

“Max, you’ve done so much already. You really don’t have to—”

“Are you going to argue with me every time I try to be helpful?” he asks, leaning on the glass of my counter.

“We’re gonna get subs,” Alex informs me. I reach out to smooth the hair on the side of my son’s head. It always wants to stand on end. “I want the ’talian one. With pepperoni.”

“I suppose subs sound good,” I relent and smile at Max. “Thanks. I like turkey.”

“Alex told me,” he says with a wink. “You let us worry about dinner, and we’ll be back in a bit.”

“Yeah, let us worry about it, Mom,” Alex says before hugging me around the middle and then leading Max to the front door. I stand and watch them leave, pulled from my reverie when my mom’s voice surprises me.

“I can handle things here, and you can go with them,” she says.

“I didn’t know you were here.”

“I just came in the back. I wanted to see if you needed my help, but it looks like someone else beat me to the punch.”

I sigh and loop my arm through hers. “It’s new.”

“It’s good,” she says with a smile. “As long as it’s what you want.”

“I don’t hate it,” I admit with a smile.

“Max was always special to you.”

“Is the guilt normal?” I ask, knowing that my mom will understand.

“Yes, and you need to let it go, darling girl. Cary would want you to live your life. He wouldn’t want you to be alone forever.”

“I know,” I whisper. “Alex likes Max.”

“He is a likeable man. He always was.” Mom kisses my cheek. “Want me to close up here?”

“No. There’re only thirty minutes left, and it’s slowed down. I have interviews tomorrow to fill Krista’s position.”

“Hire two,” she advises me. “You need the help.”

I nod, thinking it over. “You’re right. Having the extra help would be nice. And it would free me up more in the afternoons with Alex.”

“Not to mention if you want to play hooky with a handsome someone whose name rhymes with fax.”

I giggle, then roll my eyes. “Since when are you such a romantic?”

“Always have been,” she says. “And it’s time you are, too. Alex is wonderful, but a woman needs more in her life than her children. And you said it yourself, Alex likes him.”

“He does. Well, who knows? It might not go anywhere at all.”

“Just enjoy him,” she advises. “Have a little fun.”

She pats my cheek and smiles. “Now, if you don’t need me, I’ll go get some dinner for Ken and me.”

“How is Ken?” I ask. Mom married Ken about five years ago. He’s ten years younger than she is and treats her like a queen. It’s fun to watch.

“He’s wonderful. And most likely hungry.”

“Tell him I said hi. Let’s get together for dinner this weekend.”