Desperate to the Max
“Nothing extra. Like the man himself.Something warm washed over Max, something like comfort, something like the soothing blue of Witt’s eyes. “It’s me.”“Me who?” Laughter laced his voice.That, too, warmed her. The panic at seeing Bud Traynor up close and personal receded. She closed her eyes against the sight of his car at the curb. When she opened them again, the white Cadillac didn’t bother her as much. “It’s Max.”“Calling because you missed me?”Witt had lowered his voice. Either he wasn’t alo...ne or he was ratcheting up the level of intimacy. She liked the sound of his voice in her ear; it turned her mushy inside. Almost as mushy as last night’s kiss. Of course, the sensation could have been the aftereffect of an adrenaline rush.Question. She had a question. What was it? “No, I did not miss you. I called because ...” stretching, thinking, ah ...“Suppose you wanna know if I set up the phone line yet,” he helped her out.Something flickered at Ladybird’s front window, then was gone.MoreLess
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