Rose by Sydney Landon Page A

moments when I’d had some twinges of unease—to put it mildly—the mall had been strangely fun. It was obvious shortly after we walked in the door that neither of us was used to shopping with the masses. But it had turned out to be the distraction I desperately needed. I had always loved teasing Max and today had been no exception. Forcing him to help me pick out clothing in Nordstrom had been amusing, but the real fun had been the lingerie shopping.
    I would never have guessed that such a confident man would turn into such a bumbling, blushing schoolboy when faced with a pair of cheekinis and a matching bra. When I hold up another set with a matching garter belt, he backs up so fast, he turns over a bin of clearance thongs, bringing the sales associate rushing over. Max drops to his knees to help pick up what looks like hundreds of pairs of skimpy underwear as he apologizes profusely to the motherly employee. She pats him on the arm when they are finished, and then gives me a wink before she walks away.
    He surprises me by picking up a handful of boy shorts and pushing them into my arms. “I think these have more … coverage than the others.” I smirk as I add them to the small pile I’ve already amassed. The poor man. Obviously, he’s never seen a woman in boy shorts before. I’ve long been a fan of them, and of all of my underwear, they were the ones that had sent Jake over the edge the fastest. I would have to make sure that Max got a peek at some point. We’d see if he still thought they were a good idea then.
    The many problems I had managed to forget during our trip come rushing back when we pull into Max’s circular drive and park. He gets out of the car and I follow slowly behind. As he is unloading my bags from the trunk of his car, I stand rooted in place. He gives me a questioning look as he walks up the few steps that lead to his front door. “If you think I’m carrying you in next, sweetheart, you’re sadly mistaken. Move that sexy ass now.” And with those few words, I am jolted into action. I have no idea how, but Max seems to have the uncanny ability to do and say the right thing. It was as if he knew I was teetering on the edge and tossed out the rope to pull me back in. I trail him into the house and down the hallway as he deposits my new clothing on the floor of my borrowed room. He points toward a set of double doors to the right and says, “There’s the closet if you want to hang everything up.” Then he gives me a sexy grin before adding, “And feel free to use the dresser to store your new array of panties in.”
    I laugh at his sudden bravery in discussing my undergarments. “Wow, you’ve recovered nicely from the near stroke that you had in Nordstrom when I held up a simple piece of silk.”
    He catches me by surprise when he takes a couple of steps until he’s only inches from my face. He lowers his head, and holy mother, he sniffs my neck before running a teasing hand down my side. “Don’t mistake me for a fumbling boy, sweetheart, because I’m anything but. I might have been a bit embarrassed at having to walk around a department store while I was hard enough to punch through a wall, but if I decided to take you, those scraps of covering wouldn’t stop me.”
    I moan, ready to hump his leg if it’ll bring me some relief from the fire down below. “Mmm … please,” I murmur helplessly.
    Then the bastard has the audacity to chuckle while I’m panting like a dog in heat. He places a noisy kiss on my cheek before saying, “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. What do you feel like tonight?”
    “You,” I shoot back promptly, causing his eyes to widen. Before he has time to recover, I stroll past him and toss over my shoulder, “But I’ll settle for some kind of pasta with a lot of … meat.” It appears that I’ve rendered him speechless because there is nothing but silence as I make my way to the kitchen and begin opening the cabinets. I have the