The Bachelor Pact Box Set

by Rita Herron

  They both burst into laughter. Finally Sophie said, "I'm beginning to think you're right. There aren't any normal men left in Savannah."

  "Except for my brothers." And Chase. "And they've got this moronic bachelor pact they made when they were younger that they claim to live by. I don't know who thought of it, but I'd like to ring all their necks."

  "So they've sworn never to marry," Sophie murmured miserably.

  Maddie made a face. "I was hoping you could change Lance's mind, Sophie. He needs a good woman to add some excitement to his life. He's way too serious."

  "I don't think Lance and I will ever happen, Mad." Sophie frowned in thought. "When I showed him the house the other day, I got the distinct impression he didn't trust me."

  "Why wouldn't he trust you?"

  "I have no idea. But he definitely acted as if I had the plague or something. I guess he just doesn't like me."

  Maddie covered her friend's hand with her own. Although Sophie didn't whine or complain about her past, Maddie knew it hadn't been a happy one. Still, she was the most upbeat person she'd ever met. "How could he not like you, Sophie? You're smart and talented and gorgeous. Half of Savannah's male population drools over you every day when they watch your show."

  Sophie's mouth twisted. "Your brother certainly isn't one of them. He must not find me attractive at all."

  Maddie stewed over Sophie's comment. Sophie would be perfect for Lance. Why wouldn't he at least give her a chance?

  * * *

  Lance studied the layout of Sophie's house and all the renovations needed, jotted down the estimated costs, and made a note to call her and set up a meeting. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, dreading the conversation already. If only he didn't find the woman so damn attractive, he'd be able to turn this deal down and tell her where to go. But he'd better meet with her and try and find out what she knew about his family. Reid was too gullible and might be swayed by her sexuality. Besides, his younger brother still thought of their dad as some hero; destroying that boy's image of his father didn't sit well with Lance at all. And Sophie could do just that if she aired their dirty family secrets on TV.

  He gathered his files and hurried to his Blazer. Fifteen minutes later, he rushed into the town planning meeting, grateful to see Chase and Reid already seated. The committee had phoned him, asking questions about two of the restoration projects, griping about the molding they'd chosen for the parlor, the flooring for one of the kitchens, even the stones they'd used to build the mantel. The guidelines were stringent, but Lance figured they'd been lucky to win five of the ten accounts, and he planned to make the citizens of Savannah proud of the fact they had shown faith in their company. Only judging from the expressions on Chase's and Reid's faces, things weren't going well.

  "We expect every detail to be put before the committee," Ross Pierceson, the head of the committee said. "Maintaining the history of Savannah and the original architecture is our prime concern. We will not allow structural changes that interfere with the basic lines developed by our ancestors."

  "We' re not talking about changing historical details," Chase said in a patient voice, "but for safety reasons, the foundation of the Rhinehold house has to be redone. We'll make every effort to restore—"

  "I want to see each change detailed in writing and be kept abreast of your plans every step of the way." Mr. Pierceson interrupted.

  "You've seen our plans," Reid snapped. "You know we will adhere to the committee's restrictions. Why are you being so difficult?"

  "Those lights at the Butler mansion are the wrong style," Elvira Huddle said.

  "And I believe you should have used granite in the entry way of the Hudson room, not Italian marble," Bobby Bruins added.

  "Lord only knows what that Maddie Summers will do when she starts decorating the beautiful mansion," Lilith Palmer said. "She didn't do well in history in high school."

  "What does that have to do with anything?" Reid asked.

  "Maddie knows what she's doing," Lance said.

  "He's right," Chase agreed. "Besides, I researched those houses myself. According to the files I found on the history of the Butler house, every detail is correct."

  Paulette Rhoder patted her funnel silver hair. "Gentlemen, you don't need to be rude. Need I remind you, this project can be turned over to someone else?"

  "I don't understand why they were given the job anyway," Marvin Mullins mumbled. "Bunch of troublemakers."

  Chase and Reid both stiffened, squaring their shoulders as if for combat.

  "Did you see the front page?" Lilith murmured. "Maddie Summers draped all over that TV producer like some two-bit saloon girl."

  "Even worse than that TV debacle where she embarrassed that nice Jeffrey Oglethorpe. His mother still hasn't recovered from what that hussy did to her son."

  Chase slammed his fist on the table. "Maddie is not a hussy!"

  Lance stepped forward, his hand held up in warning. "We'll follow your guidelines, but I don't want to hear another defamatory comment about our character, especially my sister's."

  The room fell into a strained silence. Reid was the first one out of the door, Chase on his heels. Lance followed, surprised at the vehemence Chase had used to defend Maddie.

  Then again, why should he be surprised? They had asked Chase to watch out for Maddie—his reaction simply proved his best friend was doing as they'd asked.

  * * *

  Chase leaned against his pickup, pinched the bridge of his nose and bowed his head, trying to calm himself. How dare those old biddies talk about Maddie like that.

  If they wanted to criticize him, well, let them go ahead. He was used to it. He'd heard their gossip all his life.

  Their hurtful words rose to haunt him.

  The little orphan boy. His mama didn't want him. He's mean just like his daddy. Won't never amount to anything. Won't no good girl in town ever want to marry him. Can you imagine if he did get married and have kids—what would he do? Take them to see their granddaddy in jail every Sunday? His kids would be ashamed of him.

  "Chase, Reid, come here. We have to talk." Lance's voice barely cut through the noise cluttering Chase's mind. But Lance patted him on the back, and Chase winced at the odd expression in his eyes. Had Lance sensed Chase's real feelings for Maddie?

  "Thanks for sticking up for Maddie like that." Lance nodded at Chase.

  "Yeah," Reid said in an unusually gruff voice. "Can't say how much that means to us."

  Guilt once again weighed on Chase. If they knew his unbrotherly thoughts, they'd kill him.

  "We can't let this group of busybodies affect our work," Lance said. "We're going to prove they're wrong about all of us."

  Chase nodded. Exactly what he intended to do—prove them wrong. He had to keep his goal in mind—making sure the company succeeded so every person in that room would eat their words. They'd been right about him and marriage though—he wouldn't want to have a kid and make him suffer through the ridicule he had. Forget a personal life.

  Work was the only thing that mattered.

  * * *

  Work was the only thing that mattered—Maddie mentally repeated the sentiment over and over while Jake curled into a ball and bounced across her wallpaper books.

  "Booooing! Booooing! Booooing! Look, Mom, I'm a rubber ball."

  Nora Ledbetter settled the rocking chair in front of the window. "I see, Jake."

  Maddie massaged her right temple where a headache had started to form and pasted on a smile as the three-year-old demolished Maddie's hard efforts in record time. Fabric samples for the window coverings were scattered in a dozen different directions. If ever Maddie wanted to reconsider her career choice, now would be the time.

  Just what her brothers would expect her to do—quit. Like she always had before.

  Not a chance.

  Jake really wasn't a bad little boy, but he needed to be on a playground with other kids, not dragged around and made to sit idly while grown-ups discussed deco
rating plans. Nora seemed oblivious—she was too busy settling her ghost, Joseph, who she'd brought to see if he approved of the new place, into a corner with the rocking chair, a pipe and the business section of the daily paper.

  Maddie had thought she was prepared for today's visit with Nora and her entourage, but first thing, Nora's Saint Bernard, Lulu, had bolted in and pooped on the brand-new white carpet. Then Jake had bounced in, knocking Maddie sideways so she'd stepped in the mess. The day had gone downhill since. From now on, she'd stick an extra pair of shoes in the trunk of her car for emergencies.

  "Look, I'm skating." Jake shucked his sneakers in record time and began gliding across the slick floor, swinging his arms and swaying back and forth as if he were on ice skates, singing at the top of his lungs. Nora turned her back on him and pointed to the vibrant walls in the study.

  "Joseph doesn't like the teal color so you'll have to change it. He prefers mustard." Nora's bracelets clanged like wind chimes. "And he wants the study furniture to be cherry wood, just like his was when he was alive."

  Maddie made a note of everything Nora said, drawing little crazy faces out by the margin. "And what does Mr. Ledbetter want?"

  Nora waved a manicured hand. "He doesn't care. He said to do whatever I wanted."

  "What does Mr. Ledbetter think about Joseph?"

  "Oh, he wants Joseph to be happy so he'll leave us alone at night." Nora's face turned animated. "You see we have a deal with Joseph that if he's happy he doesn't just walk through the walls anytime he wants to—he burst in one time right when... well, let's just say, he scared the life out of Mr. Ledbetter, if you know what I mean."

  Maddie tried not to imagine the specifics. "I suppose having a ghost in the house would be difficult."

  "Look, I'm an airplane!" Jake stretched his pudgy arms out by his sides and began to zoom across the room, making crashing noises each time he banged into a wall.

  "Go play your silly games upstairs so we can hear ourselves think," Nora snapped.

  Jake's small mouth dropped, but he zoomed even louder as he soared up the steps. He pretended to crash and burn on every other step, prolonging the agony.

  Maddie checked her notepad to see what else she needed to discuss with her client. The master bedroom and bath, the dining room and parlor, the five suites upstairs... it would take forever. Maybe Jake would play upstairs, and she'd have a few minutes of peace and quiet to get things decided. She reached inside her purse to search for some aspirin but a knock sounded at the door, and she glanced up to see Chase entering the foyer.

  Nora's face lit up. "Well, Mr. Holloway, what brings you here?"

  Chase nodded in greeting to her, his eyes narrowing when he noticed Maddie's missing shoe. She mouthed, "Don't ask."

  He nodded, then smiled at Nora. "I was checking the progress on some of the other houses and noticed you two here. I thought I'd drop by and see how things were going."

  Nora began to gush about the house. "The skylights are simply wonderful, and my husband is going to love that hi-tech entertainment system in the basement recroom Maddie suggested. Suspending that wide screen TV so that the screen rotates and you can watch it from anywhere in the room was ingenious."

  "I'm glad you—"

  "Zooom!" Jake suddenly flew down the stairs, arms extended, "Zoooom! Watch out, engine's out of control, I lost a wing!" He careened through the stack of wallpaper books Maddie had brought, sending them flying. Lulu raced behind him, knocking Maddie with her tail. Maddie staggered backward, and Chase reached out to catch her.

  "Whoa, partner," Chase called to Jake as he released Maddie. "Better check your pilot's license before the air-traffic police haul you in for reckless driving."

  Jake halted and stared at Chase wide-eyed. "You're bigger than my daddy. How tall are you anyway, a hundred feet?"

  An amused, almost tender expression crossed Chase's face. "No, I'm six-four."

  And every bit muscle, Maddie thought, distractedly.

  Jake grinned, shining a hole where his front tooth was missing. Maddie thought of Greg Pugh and his bridge.

  "Wow," Jake said. "And you got big feet, too."

  Maddie checked her watch, trying to avoid thinking about what other body parts might be big. She'd always heard foot size was proportional to...

  "Jake, leave Mr. Holloway alone. We're talking."

  Jake's excited face fell. Chase ruffled his hair. "It's okay, sport. You made a great airplane."

  His tender way with the boy touched a chord inside Maddie, but she refused to think about the reason. She had business to finish. And other houses to decorate for the tour. "Mrs. Ledbetter, if you want the house completed before your husband returns from Europe, we really need to discuss the wall coverings."

  Jake tugged at Nora's arm. "Look at me, I'm a power saw." Jake held out his arms and began to make loud buzzing noises.

  Nora frowned and picked up a book of wallpaper samples, exclaiming over the floral designs. Maddie saw spots behind her eyes, indicating a migraine. She pressed her fingers to her temple and began to rub in slow circles.

  "Hey, bud, come outside with me. I could use a good helper." Chase scooped up the child and shifted him for a piggyback ride. "I have a bunch of scrap wood and some tools. You could build something while your mama finishes in here."

  Jake clasped his arms around Chase's neck. "Can I, Mom?"

  Nora rolled her eyes. "Sure, why not. Then maybe I can get something done."

  Maddie caught the disapproval on Chase's face and the disappointment on Jake's and realized the woman had once again ignored her son the entire time they'd been there. Chase had been right, the boy simply needed some attention. Or maybe some parenting. He would probably be a different little boy if Nora spent time with him.

  Judging from Chase's reaction to the boy, he'd make a good father. But what kind of mother would she make?

  She'd heard kids were a lot like animals. Her cat had certainly changed since Maddie had taken him in. When she'd first found him, he'd been mangy and injured and too frightened to let her even touch him.

  He'd been hiding in the bushes by her house, mewling and crying, starved and hurt. Was that how Chase had felt when he was little and his mother had abandoned him?

  Maddie remembered how long it had taken her to win T. C.'s trust—she'd set out food daily, and had waited until he was ready to accept her touch. It had taken more than three months for him to warm to her, but each day he'd inched a little closer until one day he'd stopped to sniff her feet, and he'd actually let her touch him. From then on, he'd been beside her every minute. Her love and patience had won his devotion. And it had all been worth it.

  If she was patient, would Chase learn to trust her someday, too?

  Chapter 16

  Chase watched Jake hammer the two pieces of wood together, grateful he'd suggested the idea when he saw the excitement on the little boy's face. Where was the child's father? Jake acted as if he'd never been around a man. Did he ever spend time with his dad?

  Not that he had any right to judge. He hadn't seen his own dad since he was two. He didn't even remember what he looked like.

  "It's an airplane," Jake said, proudly holding up the simple structure. "Thank you, Mr. Hawoway."

  "You're certainly welcome, sport."

  Jake suddenly threw his arms around Chase and hugged his leg. "You're the bestest."

  For a brief moment, Jake's face faded and another child's face slid into view—a little boy who looked up at him with admiring eyes and called him Daddy. A glimpse of a little boy with russet-colored hair and big brown eyes like... Maddie's?

  He shook himself, jerking his thoughts back to reality. He wasn't husband or father material. His own family had taught him that. Maddie must know it as well.

  "Look, it can fly." Jake took off running, holding the crude plane above his shoulders as he made flying sounds. "Up, up and away."

  "You're a good builder," Chase said, remembering the first time he'd hammered two
pieces of wood together in a similar fashion—the day Lance had let him tag along with him and Reid behind their house. The boys had built planes. Then their imaginations had taken over, and they'd formed the club, The Terrible Three. The following week they'd built a clubhouse for themselves and used it to hold their club meetings. Of course, Maddie had often begged to join them, but her brothers had excluded her, claiming the club was for boys only. Years later, they discovered Maddie had sneaked in and hidden behind one of the wooden boxes and listened to almost everything they'd said.

  Precocious, pigtailed, knobby-kneed Maddie—who'd grown up to be the sexiest woman in Savannah.

  "I wanna build somefin' else," Jake said. "How about a machine gun?"

  "No, no guns," Chase said, glancing up when he noticed a shadow behind him. Maddie and Nora had emerged from the house, laughing and chatting.

  "Look, Mommy, see what Mr. Hawoway helped me build."

  Nora barely glanced at the boy's creation. "That's nice. We need to go, Jake."

  Once again Jake's smile drooped.

  Maddie paused and ruffled Jake's hair. "Good job, there."

  Jake's little chest puffed up with pride. "Can I come and play with you again sometime, Mr. Hawoway? I'm going to ask for a tool set for my birfday."

  "Sure." Chase shifted uncomfortably when he noticed Maddie watching him. But when Jake threw his arms around him again, he knelt and patted his back. "See you later, sport."

  Nora and Jake climbed in the car, Jake hugging his new toy tightly. Maddie walked over beside him. Dusk had started to settle, the faint purple and orange lines of the sun streaking the sky with an ethereal glow, highlighting her oval face.

  "That was really nice of you to take time with him, Chase. We accomplished a lot."

  He shrugged. "He's not such a bad kid."

  "I know," Maddie said gently. "Nora really should leave him with a sitter or a play group while we meet."

  Chase nodded agreement. Their gazes locked, and he wondered what she was thinking, if she remembered how scraggly and homely he'd looked when he'd tagged along behind her brothers. If she remembered the names the other kids had called him. The image of that little boy's face, his son's face, flitted through his mind though, and his heart squeezed in his chest.