“If what you meant was, do I go around picking up women in bars on a regular basis, the answer is no,” he said. “And if what you meant was, do I go around going on dates with women and telling them I like them a lot, the answer is also no. I sent you that cake on an impulse, because you’d disappeared from my life after I saw you in that hotel bar, and when you reappeared, it felt like magic, and I refused to let you go again. And every moment I’ve been with you since then has told me that impulse was correct.”

“Oh,” she said. There he was again, making her feel wanted. More than anyone else ever had.

“I, um. I’m really glad you sent me that cake,” she said. “And I’m really glad to be here with you. I like you a lot, too.”

A wide, bright, joyful smile spread across Max’s face.

“You do?” he asked.

She’d tried so hard to fight it, but she couldn’t anymore.

“I do,” she said. Everything about Max was unexpected, and Olivia had never liked the unexpected. But somehow, she couldn’t get enough of Max.

He picked up the cheese and crackers and put them back into his backpack.

“Great. Then how about we go back to my house and take our clothes off?”

She laughed out loud.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter Nine

It took a great deal of self-control for Max not to drive back to his house like a bat out of hell. Only two things stopped him: (1) he did not want the headlines that would come if he was stopped for speeding; and (2) he was driving Olivia’s brand-new car, and if he did anything to risk it, she might murder him before he got the chance to have sex with her.

“I just want to be clear on this,” he said on the drive back to his house. “Are we, like, together together now?”

Even while driving, he could tell she was laughing at, not with, him.

“ ‘Together together?’ Is that some sort of official designation, Senator?”

He slid his hand onto her thigh and forced himself to keep his eyes on the road.

“You know what I mean.”

She put her hand on top of his.

“Yeah, I guess I do. And yeah, I guess we are. But …” She took a deep breath. “I’m not quite ready to publicly be senator Maxwell Stewart Powell’s girlfriend, if that’s okay. I mean, I at least have to get a haircut, and some new lipstick, before I have to be in paparazzi pictures.”

He laughed.

“I’m not famous enough for paparazzi pictures.” He turned his hand over and squeezed hers. “But I know what you mean; it’s early for all of that.”