There’s only one person at the table, and when I take my seat next to him, he gives my thigh a squeeze. “Hey, gorgeous,” Max mutters. “Jesus,” I mutter, swatting his hand away. “What have I told you? No touching.” He leans his elbows on the table. “About that no touching rule…” “Don’t start—” “Hear me out.” He glances up toward the head of the table, and when he realizes it’s just us, he turns his attention back to me. “Angelo hasn’t said anything to Alberto about me leaving you to your own devices in Devil’s Dip, has he?” I shake my head. I don’t bother telling him that he saw us yesterday,
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