Try. He put the word behind him. “My mom could make anything delicious from what she pulled from the cupboard. Not me. I like to follow recipes.”
“I know, Mr. Get It Right the First Time.”
That was him, wasn’t it? But looking at her, he had the sense that letting go of needing it to be perfect might be okay.
“Yeah, well, we wouldn’t be in the final round without you, Grace, and your ability to take a chance.”
Take a chance. His own words were lethal tonight, and he looked away at the darkening shoreline of Honolulu, the buildings quickly turning into spires of light jutting into the velvety sky.
He felt Grace’s gaze on him. “I wouldn’t have entered the contest if it weren’t for you, Max. You . . .” She swallowed. “You made me feel like a winner before we even entered. I don’t care if we win tomorrow. I’m just happy right now. Happy I met you.”
His throat thickened, his chest tight. “What if . . . what if . . . ?” What was he doing? But the words swirled out of him, already beyond his control. “Have you ever seen a Blue Ox game?” Oh, idiot. Of course she had—her brother had played for the Blue Ox. Before Max destroyed his career, before Max took his place.
He should just throw himself overboard right now. Because he saw where this would end, yet he seemed unable to stop himself from barreling toward the catastrophic finale.
“Not live,” she said. “Amelia and Casper went last season, but Eden was always the one with the tickets, so . . .”
“Uh . . . well . . . maybe you could come to one of my games.” Oh, boy, he sounded like a seventh grader asking a girl to the middle school dance.
“I’d like that. But only if you win. Because I’m not driving all the way down from Deep Haven only to sit there and watch you get creamed. That would be horrible. You’d be all grumpy pants and I’d have to make you soup to cheer you up. And fresh pineapple isn’t easy to get in Minneapolis in January.”
Her words tugged out a grin, and he glanced at her. She met his eyes with a smile. Oh, he loved the way she could take any situation and make it . . .
Perfect.
Everything dropped away. All the hesitations, all the reasons swirling in his head why he shouldn’t take her in his arms. Instead, he saw her sitting across from him in the convertible, feet up, with that silly blue toenail polish. He saw her eating shrimp, her chin smeared with butter, and chasing after a turtle, her eyes wide with fear as the ocean reached out to gulp her.
He heard her laughter as she parasailed with him and her determined voice as she fought to learn to surf. And he saw her in chef’s attire, that blonde hair trickling out the back of her hat as she bossed him around in the kitchen, bringing in the win.
He couldn’t stop himself. He cupped her face, ran his thumb down her cheekbone. “Grace . . . I . . .”
Her smile had dimmed, leaving behind so much raw emotion in her eyes, it tugged him right in. He let his gaze drift to her lips, then surrendered a small groan and kissed her.
He didn’t stop to linger, didn’t explore or nudge, just dove in, full-on, tired of holding back, of needing her. He kissed her like he’d dreamed about for a week or longer, with a sort of desperation he could no longer keep locked away.
She tasted of sunshine and sea salt, and he looped his arm around her waist, pulled her against him, his other hand curling behind her neck.
As usual, she fit perfectly into his embrace.
Best part of all, she kissed him back. Surrendering, giving, meeting him with hunger in her own touch.
Finally. Grace.
Oh, Grace.
He could probably devour her whole, but the sound of his own heartbeat thundering against his chest made him break away.
A smile slid up her face. “Took you long enough.”
He wanted to sing. “Sheesh, 9B. If I knew you could kiss like that, I would have flirted with you more on the plane.”
“You did enough flirting, Maximoto. Let’s not talk about the plane.” She leaned in and kissed him again, running her hand against his cheek, her touch so sweet, so right, he could die right now a happy man.
The stars had long since started to fall from the sky when Max returned Grace to her room. Lio had dropped them off at the dock, and Max cajoled her, without too much effort, to walk along the beach, finally pulling her into his arms in the soft, cool sand.
They just sat together, wrapped in an embrace, watching the stars, listening to the ocean cheer. He would have suggested they stay until sunrise, but they had a competition to win.
Although, like she said, he already felt like a winner.
A winner in denial, maybe, but even his future felt . . . Well, she had said that for the right man, she’d surrender her heart, even if she couldn’t have a lifetime. He couldn’t bear the idea that she might be telling the truth.