Party of Two (The Wedding Date #5)(11)

He had his baseball cap from the bar on, and glasses this time. He looked like an off-duty college professor. She noticed for the first time that when he smiled at her, he had a tiny dimple in his chin. Damn it. How was it possible he was even more attractive tonight?

“It’s good to see you,” he said.

He didn’t pull her into a hug, which she’d sort of expected him to, but he did put his hand on her arm and stand very close to her while they waited for their table.

She looked up at him and kept her voice low.

“I have to ask: are the baseball cap and glasses your disguise so you can go out in public without being recognized, like Superman?”

Max grinned at her and moved his hand up and down her arm in a way she could feel all the way to her toes.

“Try them and see,” he said.

She reached up with both hands and slid his glasses off, and put them on her own face. She could see perfectly.

He laughed and took them back. The way he slowly pulled them off her made her shiver.

“They look good on you,” he said. “The glasses are an extra precaution, but the amazing thing is that I manage to hide in plain sight everywhere in L.A. I don’t know if it’s just that there are so many people in here who are far more well-known than I am, or that I’m unrecognizable outside of my suit and tie and with my hair all . . .”

“Ken doll–like?” she helpfully supplied.

He sighed and shook his head, but with laughter in his eyes. His lips were full and looked soft, yet firm. How had she not noticed that before?

“Unfortunately, yes, Ken doll–like was exactly what I meant. It’s usually much less tamed when I’m off duty.” He laughed. “Maybe it’s just that I look like Generic White Man Number Five, so I seem familiar to everyone, but not enough so they actually wonder who I am. Sometimes people figure it out after a while, but the baseball hat and/or the glasses help.”

Olivia glanced at the hat and shook her head.

“I’m evidence that the hat works—I had no idea who you were when we met at the bar.”

Had he known that already? She wasn’t sure.

“I wondered about that,” he said. “I thought you didn’t know, at least at the beginning, but there were a few times you sort of looked at me like you were trying to place me.” He laughed. “I’m sorry, is it weird that I remember that?”

Yeah, it was weird, but in a good way. She liked that he’d paid such close attention to her.

“I was trying to place you, but I just assumed you were an actor,” she said. “I’m not exactly saying I thought you were Generic White Man Number Five, but . . .”

“But you’re not not saying that, are you?”

She just grinned at him, and he laughed again.

The host led them to their table, and Max slid his hand from her arm to the small of her back as they walked together. She could feel the warmth of his firm hand through her blouse. Suddenly, she was very glad she was here tonight.

“When did you realize I wasn’t an actor?” he asked when they sat down. “Was it at the luncheon yesterday?”

She shook her head.

“No, before that. I got to my room and turned on the TV and . . .”

“And saw my press conference?”

He rested his hand on the table, right near hers. It was warm, strong, and browned by the sun.

“Yes, exactly. Did you watch yourself, too? Isn’t that a little . . .”

“Embarrassing? Uncomfortable? Stressful?”

She let herself grin at him.

“I was going to say ‘masturbatory,’ but those words work as well.”

He laughed out loud.

“Okay, yes, that works, too.” His cheeks got slightly pink. It was strangely . . . cute? “And yeah, it’s that and all of the other things. I’ve more or less gotten used to watching myself, even though I hate it—it’s basically trial by fire when you run for office, because your staff makes you watch yourself, and then they criticize everything you do to make you ultra-aware of your most annoying habits. But I don’t do it by choice.”

He pushed his sleeves up. She tried not to stare at his forearms.

Tried and failed.

“So that’s how you found out who I was,” he said. “I’d wondered if it wasn’t until you saw me walk up to the podium yesterday afternoon that it clicked.”

She shook her head.

“No, but I did wonder if you’d remember me. I was surprised that you did.”

He looked at her, and a slow smile dawned over his face.

“Olivia, I promise, you’re unforgettable.”

A warm glow went through her. She knew this was just his politician charm offensive, but hell if it wasn’t working on her.

“Now.” He opened his menu. “We should figure out what we’re going to order before the waitress comes around again.”

She looked at the top of the menu.

“Well, I assumed we would get . . . pie and burgers. Am I correct there?”

Now he rolled his eyes at her.

“Yes, thank you, smart-ass, you are correct there, but the question is what kind of pie? Just a warning: the burgers are good, but the fries need some work. The pies, on the other hand, are great.”

After how good that cake was, she believed him. And after the way he looked at her, she was very glad to be here with him right now.