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the United States.”
    Max shook his head somberly. “The love between a man and his meatloaf should not be restrained.”
    They laughed together at the joke and went back to eating. Max wasn’t known for being funny, so he was even surprising himself.
    “I take it you don’t eat a lot of home cooked meals?” she asked.
    “I can cook but it doesn’t make much sense for me to make a big meal for myself. I eat take-out, or sometimes Jones’s wife takes pity on me and sends a Tupperware of food to work for me,” Max explained.
    “Well now add me to the list, I love cooking and you can eat here anytime,” Nicole said. “Jules and I don’t mind sharing.”
    “I think I may have until he can eat solid foods and gets teeth, then we’ll be competing for mom’s dinner,” he said.
    “You’re going to compete for strained peas or apple sauce with bananas?” Nicole asked teasingly.
    Max looked down at his dinner and then at Nicole and shook his head. “No, he can have that to himself.”
    She took a bite of her food. “Well, you can take the rest of the pie home after dessert. I’ll only need a slice and I already packaged up the leftovers, you can have it for lunch or something tomorrow.”
    “If you keep feeding me I’ll be in Staten Island all the time,” Max said.
    “You have an open invitation,” she said.
    He met her gaze. “I just might take you up on that offer.”
    The rest of the conversation went from TV to books and books that were made into shows. He found she had a love for paranormal shows but not the fluffy kind, the ones with a deeper motive and a case to crack. Max made a mental note to buy her a gift that would feed her love of reading. She told him about her work in website design and building, her plans to go to school and start working in customer service, and she tried to explain coding to him. He was lost, but hearing her talk with such animation and love of her job kept him interested. Dinner went by and he helped clear the table and clean the dishes. In the close proximity in the tiny kitchen he was very aware of her body and the way she smelled, down to the shampoo scent of her hair. Max was not a man that noticed scents, hell he bought Irish Spring in the six-pack. But he could swear he smelled green apples and honey melon in her hair or that’s what it reminded him of. They had dessert in front of the TV and watched a really bad movie on the Chiller Channel.
    “So basically these movies are saying that girls who go camping are stupid and end up dead,” Max said.
    Nicole nodded. “That’s my take. Unless there are four walls, a bed, and barriers from nature, I’m not going out there. Don’t let me get started on my small town theory.”
    Max laughed. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
    Nicole shook her head. “We’ll save that for another time. This has been fun though, thank you.”
    Max put his plate on the coffee table. “Is that my cue to leave?”
    “I think so, I need to get some rest. Jules is up at three and then five a.m.,” Nicole said uncertainly. “I didn’t want to be rude. I’m still trying to figure out normal for us.”
    He covered her hand with his own. “You’re not being anything, this is your home.”
    “I’m still teaching myself that as well,” she admitted. “I was at the shelter with Karen for the last three months of my pregnancy because I was too scared to be anywhere else. I’d wake up screaming or fighting because I still felt threatened. Being out on my own again is like being on a trapeze without a net.”
    “He hurt you, made you feel scared and alone and helpless,” Max said. “Everything you feel is natural.”
    “Everything I needed or wanted had to go though him. I knew I could take care of myself. I have been since I was eighteen. I had to beg him for everything, down to deodorant, and for a price. In the end it was like learning to walk again. I’m scared but I’m free of it and him so I’ll be strong again,” Nicole