'Coffee?'
'Yeah ok.'
She grabbed it while looking at a file. And carried on looking at files, out of the window, Inés, the calendar, whatever and whoever was not Max. He was mystified.
'Is it because of the rohwurst schnittfest?'
Miranda waved him away.
'As revolting as that thing was, I'm not going to pick a fight about your sausage. The sausage, whatever.'
Max still didn't understand what the problem was. He shrugged and got on with slurping his coffee but so half-heartedly that Miranda almost felt sorry for him. Then she remembered him ripping his shirt off and she felt goose pimples all over.
Idiotic woman.
He would be insufferable if he knew about her dream last night. And he had a big dick. It was irritating beyond compare. Because at the most inappropriate moments, she was sure to be reminded of it.
He didn't eat that stupid sausage for the next few days. She didn't miss it. By keeping him at arm's length, she managed to block out the graphic sex they'd been having a couple of nights that week. Up against a wall. In her dream.
'Seriously, are you angry at me for something?'
'No' she snapped, watching the trees flash past at an acceptable rate. He'd been slowing down the driving this week, she didn't know why. She did note that she sounded deplorably rude.
He seemed hurt by that.
He turned on the radio to annoy her. She sighed and tried not to watch him change gears. He had big hands. Calloused, strong. Obviously, he was tall. Dark blonde hair whispering on his skin. It was an acceptable thing to consider, she supposed. Of course watching him grip a…no, she couldn't go there.
She felt his eyes dart over to her but she ignored him. He needed his eyes on the road anyway.