Spooning Daisy by Maggie McConnell Page A

his bulky leg through the limited space and stopped at the slender bathroom door. He gave Daisy a pointed look, his blue eyes both intense and playful. “I can think of so many things more annoying.”
    Daisy shot him her own look. “Obviously you’ve never had to clean up after anyone.”
    “Well, you’re right, Daisy—”
    Her eyes softened at Max’s unexpected acquiescence.
    “—That’s what women are for.”
    “Ah, well, that explains it.”
    He hesitated, knowing he shouldn’t ask. “Explains what?”
    “That ridge across your brow.”
    “Clever.” Max sighed. “I might be a Neanderthal, but at least I haven’t romanced you out of your money and your car.” He shoved his bag into the bathroom with more gusto than necessary. “You might want to keep your perspective . . . since you’ve lost everything else.” Then he stuffed himself inside with his bag, fighting to close the door behind him.
    Daisy slumped into her pillows. She’d sworn she’d be pleasant. What was it about Max Kendall that brought out her defensive guns? She always seemed to be shooting first and never asking questions.
    “The man is suing me,” she said aloud so that her words would register. “Damn, why didn’t I throw that back at him?”
    How could she possibly let her guard down with his lawsuit threatening her like Poe’s pendulum? And it didn’t help that Max had slept with Tina. It was ridiculous, of course, to hold that against him, but it was obvious Max liked Tina and Tina liked Max and neither liked her. As much as Daisy didn’t want to care, it had really galled her that Tina was allowed to see Max in the hospital while she’d been given the bum’s rush.
    It wasn’t fair; she was a good person—her china insanity notwithstanding—and it wasn’t her fault Max clobbered his head and banged his knee. It’s not like she’d walked away unscathed. Besides, she had tried to get him out of Mama Mia’s, but he had been too cheap—
    Enough, already. Nothing would change that night by going over and over and over it. Tina was as much to blame as Daisy, but obviously Max couldn’t sue an old lover and he couldn’t sue an old lover’s fiancé, so Daisy had been selected as the scapegoat. Just like in her breakup.
    “You’re no fun anymore,” she could hear Jason saying. “You’re too critical, too compulsive, too controlling, too rigid, too picky, too clean , too tired for sex, and too scared to fly.”
    Of course she was all that. She had a 4-star restaurant to run. Interestingly, Jason never complained about that. While she was making him money, he was spending it on someone else. She knew about Tina’s three-carat rock, had seen it that night . Ten years with Daisy and Jason hadn’t offered her so much as a diamond chip!
    Again and again and again, she had tried to enjoy flying in Jason’s Cessna, but five thousand feet above the ground in a small plane that bounced with every ripple of air was not where Daisy cared to die. She’d taken flying lessons, figuring that if she were in control, she might do better. But Daisy couldn’t control turbulence and she couldn’t control fear. So finally, after seven years, she gave up. Did Jason at least give her credit for trying? Not one crumb.
    The more their relationship faltered, the more she threw herself into the restaurant, and the less she cared about Jason’s complaints. For better or for worse, she was who she was. And look where it had gotten her.
    A duffel bag pushed through the partially open bathroom door. Clutching the handles was a fist attached to a very buff naked arm—with five tattooed stars, each the size of a quarter, trailing down from the muscled shoulder, ending above the elbow. Then Max’s head appeared with his naked chest.
    “It’s a little tight in here,” he explained, using the door as a shield for his lower extremities. “I’m just trying to make room.”
    Daisy didn’t move, as if Max’s nudity hadn’t registered.