She went away then to take care of her other customers, and Max dug into his meal. She hadn’t been exaggerating about the cook’s ability, and Max’s reason for being in the diner slipped to the back of his mind as he enjoyed the food.
Since he had nobody to talk to, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through the news apps while he ate. It was part of his usual routine, so he felt less awkward sitting at the counter, eating alone.
When he pushed his empty plate away, Tori showed up with the pot of decaf and he accepted another cup.
“You want dessert tonight?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I saw you reading the back of the menu earlier,” she said. “You know you want some pie. Or the chocolate cake. It’s downright sinful.”
He didn’t bother telling her he’d been reading the menu earlier only to distract himself from being the subject of gossip just by being in the restaurant. “That applesauce was almost like a dessert itself. Like apple pie without the crust.”
“I told you so.”
He fixed his coffee, aware that the restaurant had emptied out considerably since he’d first gone in. The diner had been a disappointment as far as his plans for the future, but the food was good and he’d possibly made a new friend. It wasn’t a total loss.
“Okay, Max,” Tori said. “The curiosity’s killing me. You never come in here but, all of a sudden, you’ve been here two days in a row. What’s up with that?”
He probably shouldn’t say anything, since it would probably become grist for the gossip mill, but he was probably going to scrap the plan, anyway. “I was trying to find a date.”
*
That was probably the last thing Tori would have expected Max to say. Even after witnessing his awkward attempt to strike up a conversation at the counter, she’d assumed he had some other reason for being in town two days in a row and was just trying to be sociable.
He was actually trying to find a date at the Trailside Diner? “Is that why you were talking to Jeanette?”
“Who?”
“The woman reading the magazine.”
“Oh. We never got as far as introductions.”
Because he’d run through his sports and weather routine and struck out. He really needed to broaden his conversational horizons. “You need help.”
“You mean like a matchmaker?”
She snorted. A matchmaker was just one of the many things Whitford didn’t have, though there were plenty of women who’d probably claim to have a gift for it. “No. Like somebody to help you be more...dateable.”
He thought about it and, judging by his expression, those thoughts weren’t good. “I don’t think pretending to be somebody I’m not is a good way to start a relationship.”
“That’s not what I said.” She tilted her head. “You think you’re not dateable at all?”
“You said I need to be more dateable. Which means I’m less than dateable.”
Tori sighed, hoping she hadn’t hurt his feelings. He was quite possibly the most literal person she’d ever spoken to. “Do you own a mirror?”
“There’s one over the bathroom sink. It came with the house.”
It wasn’t until the corners of his mouth twitched that Tori realized that, while he might be very literal, Max was also aware of that trait and wasn’t above having some fun with it.
“Then you must know you’re pretty hot.”
That made him smile, and she liked the way his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “I’ve been told I’m attractive...until I open my mouth.”
Anger pushed through her amusement and for a few seconds she wished she could slap whoever had said that to him upside the head. “You just need to find a woman who’ll appreciate you.”
“I’d hoped getting out of the house was a step in that direction, but it doesn’t matter if I can’t make conversation.”
“I’ll help you.” His skeptical look made her laugh. “We can practice different scenarios until you’re comfortable approaching a woman and asking her out.”
“So you’re saying you’ll help me find a wife?”
Tori frowned, leaning her hip against the counter. “I thought you wanted to go on a date.”
“A date which will, hopefully, lead to a relationship, followed by marriage and kids. Isn’t that the point of dating?”
“Some people date to find people compatible for...hooking up.”
“That’s hooking up. Dating is dating.”
It was an unusual conversation to be having. “That seems very narrow.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I see a distinction, I guess. Don’t you?”
“I’ve never really analyzed it, especially since the last thing in the world I want is to get married.”
“Ever?”
“Ever. But I’ll still help you.”
“Why?”
She supposed that was a valid question. “Because you seem like a nice guy. I know Katie likes you. I don’t like seeing you bummed out just because one woman shut you down. And I like a challenge.”