by Susan Meier
With that thought, he took a long breath and opened the front door. “Anybody home?”
Bev said, “We’re in here, Max.”
His gaze automatically swung to Kate.
Placing a pillow behind her dad’s head, she smiled mechanically at him. “Hello, Max.”
He fought the disappointment that swelled at her lackluster greeting. “Hey.”
“Trisha’s outside. Why don’t you go join her?”
Awkward, he rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “Actually, I was just with her.” He winced. “She sort of…” Deciding just to bite the bullet and do as he’d promised his daughter, he glanced at Dennis. “Well, she’s worried about you.”
“There’s not a damned thing to be worried about except two fussing women.” He shifted on the bed. “I should be in a chair. My therapist wants me in a chair. She wants me to practice walking with the walker. Which means I could be going to the kitchen for my own glass of water now and again.” He glared at his wife. “But she won’t let me.”
Kate’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Is that true, Mom?”
“Yes. But Melanie must be wrong.” Bev fussed with Dennis’s pillows again. “The man had a stroke ten days ago for God’s sake. He should be in bed.”
“Not necessarily,” Max said, and from the glare that came to him from Bev, he wished he hadn’t. Still, he was in now. “Things have changed in medicine in the past few years.”
The room became deathly silent.
Finally, Kate glanced at him. Apparently seeing his misery, she faced her mom. “He’s right, Mom.” She ran her fingers along the edge of the comforter covering her dad. “It’s summer and we have him wrapped in blankets. The therapist wants him in a chair and we’ve got him in bed.” She sucked in a breath. “I know what we’re doing. We’re being overprotective because we’re scared. But if the therapist really said he could be in a chair and practicing walking—”
“She said I needed to practice walking,” her dad growled.
“Then he should be doing as she says.”
Her mom deflated. “It doesn’t seem right.”
“But it is right,” Dennis said, his voice softening as he grabbed Bev’s hand. “I’m sorry I scared you, but I’m going to be fine.”
Uncomfortable hanging around for their private moment, Max motioned toward the door. “I’ll just go back outside with Trisha.”
Kate slid away from her dad’s bed. “I’ll go too.”
Max waited for her at the front door, which he opened for her. The second they were on the porch, he said, “I’m sorry.”
She blew her breath out gustily. “If you keep apologizing for every little thing that goes wrong, you’re going to drive us both nuts. You’ve gotta stop saying you’re sorry.”
“Actually, what I have to stop doing is interfering.”
She peeked over, sent him a confused look, then quickly glanced away. “Give yourself some credit. You made him laugh yesterday. Today you gave him the opening to help me see that my mom and I were overfussing. Your interfering was good.”
He scratched his chin. “I hope so because I backhandedly promised our daughter I’d try to bring back her not-sad grandpa.”
“So that’s why you came in.”
“And why I butted in.”
“Understandable.” She started down the stairs and called to Trisha. “So, how’s Rachel’s hair?”
“It’s still too much.”
As they walked toward Trisha, she leaned into Max and whispered. “She means too thick. I think she’s going to give poor Rachel a crew cut.”
He laughed to cover the way his breath stuttered when the scent of her hair drifted to him.
“Don’t laugh. She’ll be sorry when she has a hairless doll and all her friends’ dolls are still gorgeous.”
“We’ll just get her another one.”
She gasped and caught his forearm, stopping him. Tingles skittered up his arm. Not because she’d touched him but because she’d done it so naturally, so easily, just as she had when they were married.
“No. No. No. We do not buy her everything she wants. We especially don’t replace things she ruins. She has to learn lessons from these things.”
She stepped closer, squeezed his arm. Arousal roared through him, tightening his chest, heating his blood to scalding, sending a river of molten need through him. His gaze shot to her pretty green eyes. They were neutral. Not happy. Not sad. Neutral. She hadn’t touched him because she wanted contact. The fingers on his forearm were a reflex leftover from an unhappy time.
An unhappy time. A time he didn’t want her to remember.
He shifted away. “Right. Got it.”
His movement left her hand suspended. A few seconds passed in silence as she glanced down at it, then up at him, then she pivoted away and all but ran over to Trisha.
“I wanna go inside.”
Kate bent and picked up a doll. “Okay. We can take the troop into the family room.”
“Is Grandpa happy?”
“He’s better.”
Trish’s mouth bowed down into an upside down U. “I don’t think he likes me.”
“He loves you!” Kate assured her, stooping down to run her hand down Trisha’s soft brown hair.
“How could he not love you?” Max asked. “You’re adorable.”
But as he crouched down beside Kate and Trisha, Kate hastily rose. “We’ll go in the back door. We can slide into the family room without Grandma and Grandpa even noticing we’re coming inside.”
With that she bent down and swiped up another doll. Trish caught three in her little arms and Max gathered the remaining three. Kate headed for the back porch with Trisha on her heels and he followed them.
But the afternoon didn’t go well. Dennis and Bev hadn’t really come to a truce about his health because she went back to fussing over him. So Dennis closed the pocket doors in the living room and wouldn’t let anyone in. With the tension in the house, Trisha couldn’t seem to settle. One minute she wanted to play tea party, the next she wanted to watch TV. But one thing was clear to Max. She didn’t want him around. After an hour of her ignoring him, even relegating him to the sofa so she could have a private tea party with the queen, Max rose.
“I think I’ll go.”
Kate followed him into the hall. When they were out of earshot of the family room, she said, “Don’t take it personally. She’s just restless. We’re in a strange town. Her grandpa is sick and she spent the first week of our visit in a hospital room.”
“And she met me.”
Kate stepped closer and once again put her hand on his forearm. Clearly, her upset over her dad had caused her to forget their prior encounter like this one. Preoccupied, she reverted to natural, spontaneous behavior. “And she’s spent every afternoon with you because she likes you. I think she just needs a break.”
He swallowed, wishing that instead of focusing on his anger with his dad and his half brother when he’d stopped drinking, he’d also dealt with his feelings about Kate leaving. Because now, when she touched him, he still reacted. In his head, he knew she wanted nothing to do with him and he should want nothing to do with her—if only out of respect for her decision. But his heart and his hormones simply weren’t on board. They were eight years in the past, remembering how things could have been, and yearning like hungry pups. Even though he knew she was only standing close and touching him because she was a nice person who liked physical contact, who was too preoccupied with her dad to remember she shouldn’t be touching him.
He stepped away. “Should I not come over tomorrow?”
She caught his gaze. “This time tomorrow she’ll probably be perfectly fine.”
He sighed. “Okay.”
She once again breached the distance between them, and once again consolingly laid her hand on his forearm. “I swear. She’s just having a bad day.”
Unwanted needs sprang to vivid life. The urge to run his fingers through her hair, or alon
g her chin, to feel her skin, to appreciate her softness, to have the privileges he’d had eight years ago, nudged him on. He stepped closer, willing her to look at him.
It was then that she must have realized she was touching him again because she pulled her hand back as if it had been burned.
Their gazes caught and clung. Since she’d been home, he’d believed she was angry or indifferent; he’d never once considered that even an ounce of their chemistry had survived for her. But staring into her crystal-green eyes, he saw a spark flicker to life.
She took another pace back and he stood befuddled. Hope and curiosity battled common sense. Common sense won. Even if she was attracted to him, she didn’t want to be. She’d just about come right out and said that the day before.
She smiled weakly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He released the breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. “Okay.”
Three steps took him to the door. He opened it. Walked outside. And stood on her porch.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the spark in her eyes. Surely he’d imagined it. It was, after all, only a spark.
But what if it was more?
* * *
Kate stood on the other side of the door, sucking in much-needed oxygen. She’d touched him. Several times. And he’d noticed, but he’d had the good grace not to say anything to her.
She combed her fingers through her hair and headed for the kitchen, telling herself that she hadn’t felt anything when her fingers very casually slid to his arm, so it was nothing. She was just a touchy person. She even backed that up at dinner by noticing how many times she touched her mom to get her attention, the way she touched Trisha, the times she touched her dad.
Of course, they were all people she loved.
No. No. She would not let herself think that way. She had not touched Max out of affection. She’d caught his arm once to stop him. Twice to get his attention. That was all.
The next day Max called, surprising her, and her damned heart leapt to her throat, the way it had when he’d called when they were dating.
“How about if we swim again this afternoon?”
“I don’t know—” She took a breath. Why was she suddenly going all crazy around him?
“Let’s do this for Trisha. And your parents. Give Trisha a bit of a break from them and them a break from her.”
There wasn’t one hint of anything in his voice except for concern for his daughter. They’d had a terrible day the day before and he was only trying to make sure this visit was a good one. If she made a big deal out of spending time alone with him at his house, then he’d know their chemistry was starting to rear up for her. And that’s when he’d take advantage. After touching him the day before—and him noticing—she had to show him she was indifferent to him. Even if she was starting to worry that she wasn’t. “Actually, that might not be a bad idea.”
“Great. Just bring her to the house around two. We’ll have a nice afternoon.”
At five minutes till two, she had herself fortified for an afternoon of rebuffing him. Or at the very least demonstrating that she was not having trouble with their chemistry. Because she wasn’t. She stood by her conclusion that those touches the day before were reflex. And even if she found him attractive, that was normal. He was attractive. She’d be blind not to notice. So she was not nuts. Not giving in to their chemistry. She was normal.
They arrived at his house to find Max dragging the net through the pool water to clean it. He wore red trunks, exposing his gorgeous chest and tight abs and everything inside her softened. Which she’d already decided was fine. He was a gorgeous man. She was a normal woman. She could find him attractive. As long as she didn’t act on it.
Walking over to the pool, her hand on Trisha’s shoulder, she called, “Hi! We’re here.”
He turned, set down the net and strode over to meet them halfway. “Hi.”
Proper and polite, she said, “Thanks for inviting us.” Then their gazes caught and her tummy plummeted. It was one thing to be attracted to him physically, but those eyes of his. They seemed to go the whole way to his soul, to make her feel that she was the only woman in the universe—
She stepped back. That was not the way to show him their chemistry didn’t matter.
Trisha raised her hands in the air for him to pick her up. “Throw me in.”
He happily obliged, reaching down to grab her by the waist and toss her into the water. Laughing, she sputtered up and all thoughts of Max and his good looks were forgotten. After the morning they’d had with her dad, her mom and the therapist, hearing Trisha laugh was like a soothing balm.
“Maybe this was a good idea.”
“Of course it was.”
His smooth voice flowed over her, setting off fireworks inside her, frustrating her. She had to be with Max and Trisha for these visits. She refused to leave her alcoholic ex-husband alone with their daughter until he proved himself. They’d also needed to get out of the house and away from her nervous mother and grouchy dad. But suddenly, being with him wasn’t simple anymore. Every time she looked at him, something happened in her belly. When their gazes caught, she wanted to swoon. Now his voice was scrambling her pulse.
With a quick turn, he propelled himself into the pool. Trisha laughed when he sent water flying in all directions. He ducked under the surface, caught her around the waist, hoisted her out of the water and sent her flying into the deep end. She squealed with delight, landed with a splash, then popped up again.
Kate kicked off her shoes and slipped off the cover-up. This was the point where she had to make a stand. Or maybe draw a line. They didn’t need her to have fun on these visits and she didn’t want to get sucked into the vortex of trouble that was an attraction to Max Montgomery. Especially not when there was an easy fix.
“You two are having such a good time that I think I’ll just sit here on the chaise for a minute.”
Trisha whined, “Ah, Mom!”
Max turned and studied her face. If he was looking for signs of lying, he wouldn’t find them. She hadn’t lied. She’d never lie. He’d taught her how bad even white lies could be.
As Trisha scrambled out of the water, over to the diving board, he waded to the side of the pool in front of her.
“What’s up?”
The genuine concern she heard in his voice sent her pulse scrambling again. Still, there was no reason to be nervous. She might want to be away from him because of an unwanted attraction, but she didn’t need to mention that. She had plenty of other reasons to want a few minutes to herself while he entertained Trisha.
“Nothing. I could just use a break. We had a busy morning with the therapist. And Mom’s still not handling things well. Which upsets Trisha.”
He nodded to their daughter who was scampering across the diving board. “She’s over it.”
“She’s not the one who ran around trying to soothe everybody’s hurt feelings.”
He studied her for a few seconds, then floated back a bit. “You’re right. You probably could use a break. Trisha and I will be fine.”
He turned to dive under, and she nearly breathed a sigh of relief, but he pivoted around again. “Would you like a book or something?”
Annoyed by his persistence, particularly when it caused an unwanted tug on her heart, she was a little more forceful this time. “All I want is to close my eyes and not hear anything but the sound of my child’s laughter and contentment for a few minutes.”
But instead of being forceful, her voice had come out angry and maybe even snide. He took a step back. “Okay. Great. Fine.”
As he swam away, she closed her eyes. She might have been snide but he’d gotten the message. She wasn’t going to dwell on something that actually got her what she wanted. Away from him.
Max’s conversation with Trisha drifted to her. “Wanna have a diving contest?”
“You’ll beat me.”
“So you’re chicken?”
Trisha groaned. �
�I’m not chicken. You’re bigger.”
“The diving board doesn’t know the difference.”
Kate opened one eye and watched as he swam to the far end of the pool and hoisted himself out. Though she’d just barked at him, he acted as if everything was fine. For Trisha. Which was exactly how it was supposed to be.
Trisha quickly followed him and for the next fifteen minutes they executed every kind of dive Max could come up with, including a cannonball. Eventually, they grabbed the beach ball and began to bat it back and forth. Having fun. Not needing her around. Not even wanting her around.
And she’d yelled at him for asking her if she wanted a book.
Feeling foolish, Kate left the chaise and sat on the edge of the pool, dangling her feet in the shallow water. He’d truly wanted a nice afternoon with his daughter and like a shrew, she’d snapped at him. But she was dealing with a lot. Not just Trisha and Max. But her parents. Her dad’s recovery. A bossy therapist.
By the time they were done diving, she had waded in.
He swam over. “Feeling better?”
She swished her hand along the surface of the blue water. “Actually, I feel a bit stupid.”
“Really?”
“My father’s recovering nicely. My mother is simply overreacting. It will all work out eventually. I should just chill.”
“You’re missing a few steps in that story. You reconnected with your ex and now he’s in your daughter’s life. There’s a lot of stress in there.”
She laughed. “You do realize you’re talking about yourself?”
Trisha padded along the side of the pool and stooped down to be at eye level with them. “I’m hungry.”
“Trisha!”
“Hey, she’s my daughter. She should be able to ask her dad for food.” He made his way to the ladder and climbed out. “I have Fudgsicles and ice cream. But that’s about it.” He reached down and lifted her into his arms. “Men don’t usually stock up on junk food. We expect women to supply it. Luckily, I have a maid who shops for me.”