Waiting for Willa (Big Sky, #3)(18)

I nod, trying to think of how to explain it.

“Honestly, it’s like everything is free for me.”

Her eyebrows climb into her bangs.

“Really.”

“Really,” I confirm. “When I spend money, it doesn’t matter. I don’t even have to think about it because no matter how much I spend, it’ll never make a dent in my bottom line. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” she says with a nod. “It does.”

“But, I also enjoy the game of the financials, so I have a team of accountants who help me with investments and taxes.”

“I don’t even want to think about your taxes,” she says, shaking her head.

“No. You don’t.” I laugh and reach out to take her hand in mine again, needing the skin-on-skin contact. “I love to invest, so I have real estate all over the world.”

“Where?” she asks.

“Here, California, Seattle, New York, London, and Paris. I’ve been looking at a cabin on Lake Tahoe.”

“Wow,” she breathes. “That is a lot.”

“But at the end of the day, I’m still just me,” I insist as our burgers and fries are set in front of us. “I love French fries with ketchup and my coffee black.”

“Ew.”

“No ketchup?”

“No black coffee. I need it sweet.”

I grin. “I like to go on dates with my beautiful Willa, and I love my little town.”

“So, you’re just Max with a lot of money.”

“Yep.”

“That’s not why I’m here.” Her face is serious now. “I don’t care about the money, Max. I’m proud of you, and happy for you, but that’s not—”

“I know,” I say, squeezing her hand, then letting go so we can eat. “That’s one of the reasons why we’re here tonight.”

“How are your parents?” she asks. “I didn’t get to talk to them much at Brad’s wedding.”

“You probably know that they live most of the year down in Arizona now,” I begin. Willa nods, and we spend the next half hour enjoying our food and talking about our families. Our businesses.

Alex.

“He’s started drawing pictures of puppies and sticking them on the fridge. He thinks he’s being nonchalant,” Willa says with a laugh. “Like I don’t notice the new pictures every couple of days.”

“He’s campaigning for what he wants,” I say with a smile. “He’s smart. Is it working?”

“It’s all in vain,” she says with a laugh. “I chose a puppy weeks ago. We’re going to go pick it up tomorrow after his party.”

“He’ll be over the moon,” I say. “You’re an excellent mom, Willa.”

Her eyes suddenly fill with tears.

“Shit, what did I say?”

“Nothing bad,” she says, dabbing at her eyes. “Thank you. Being a mom is hard. Harder than I ever thought it would be, and there are days that I don’t think I’m very good at it.”

“Have you seen Alex?” I ask. “He’s great. A lot of that is because you’ve done your job.”

“I’m lucky,” she says, her eyes drying up. Thank God. I never could stand to see her cry. “Alex was an easy baby. So laid-back and sweet. He wasn’t colicky or high-maintenance. It was like the universe knew that I was already a wreck, and it cut me some slack.”

“I’m glad,” I murmur. “Should we get out of here?”

“Sure.” She stands, reaches for her purse, and I follow her out to my car.

“Can I take you somewhere else?” I ask.

“Of course. Where do you want to go?”

“Paris.”

I watch as she goes pale, and her mouth drops, making me laugh.

“Just kidding. We’ll save that for another time. I’d like to take you to the movies.”

She laughs and reaches over to smack my shoulder.

“Ouch. I don’t remember you being this violent.”

“I don’t even have a passport.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we need to change that.”

She doesn’t say anything as we pull away from the diner and head toward my house. I know this is a lot, and moving fast, but I don’t know any other way to be with Willa.

I stayed away for so long, it’s like I feel as if I have to make up for lost time.

I pull into my garage and cut the engine.

“Uh, I thought we were going to the movies?”

“We are.” I grin and hop out of the vehicle, then open the door for her and lead her inside. “You’ve been here before with Jenna.”

“True, I have,” she says with a nod. “You’ve never been here.”

“Well, now I can give you a proper tour.”

It takes us a half hour to make our way through the big house on the lake. The last room is the theater room with a popcorn machine, candy, and soda. It’s decorated with movie posters, including one of the show we’re going to see tonight.

I did that on purpose, too.

“Do you want popcorn?”

“Of course,” she says. “And Milk Duds.”