A long sigh gave her enough time to gather her thoughts. And courage. “About how we’re going to handle things now that we’re sleeping together and living under the same roof.”
He reached out to touch her arm. Careful. Enough to send a shiver down her spine. “To be clear, we’re not living under the same roof. It’s your roof. I’m a guest, a boarder. I understand that. So, if you were panicking that I expect to move into your bedroom, then put your mind at rest.”
She’d never even considered the possibility. The idea of nightly access to Max was enough to send her imagination into overdrive. But, of course, that wasn’t happening. “Okay, I’m glad you realize that. But that wasn’t what I was going to say.” A sad kind of smile tugged at her heart as well as her mouth as she stared at him. Took in his dark features and the concern that splintered across his eyes.
“Well, hell. You sure put me in my place.”
“I apologize. It’s not my way to make someone uncomfortable. But I do have to say, you don’t look particularly wounded.”
An uncomfortable laugh escaped his lips. Raising his eyebrow, he gestured. “Say your piece, woman.”
“I need for you to be careful outside the bedroom.”
“Clarify that?”
“I don’t want gossip among the guests. I have a professional reputation to maintain. We may have gone on a date, but I have to live in this town afterward.” That was the reality. Whatever existed between her and Max was temporary. He would leave because, as he pointed out, he was a boarder. This transient relationship could not impact her standing in this town.
“After I leave, you mean,” he said, eyes burning into hers.
She raised her chin, leveling him with a stare all her own. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“You’re writing me off awfully fast.”
She chewed her lip, pulling away from him. Needing to remember to build space between them and guard her heart. “You know you’re going home, more likely sooner rather than later.”
“Still, gone isn’t exactly...gone.” He wiggled his hand around above his head. “I have an airplane. I could be here more often than planned.”
“That’s all hypothetical. I’m talking about today. About this town...about my children.”
“Even if I were to stay somewhere else, they already know me separate from you. I—and others—enjoy being part of their lives. It’s about more than helping you. They’re good kids who’ve been through a lot.”
“I realize that. And I believe the more people who contribute positive moments to their lives, the better. Truly. I’m grateful for the way people rally around them.” She leaned back against the counter, her T-shirt brushing against water, dampening her back.
“They’re great kids. You’re a great person.”
“Thank you. Just... Let’s not be a couple around them.” She couldn’t enter this casually for the sake of her children. Bringing a man into their lives was a big deal. Natalie needed whoever that man was to be a stable force.
He nodded, understanding the implications of her statement. “It’s not about gossip. It’s about your children hearing gossip and making assumptions.”
“They may not really remember Jeremy, but they know they lost their dad. They know other children have fathers. They feel the loss and I can’t have them creating false expectations because you’re nice and you’re here and they assume we’re a couple.”
He took his own step back now, vision seeming to travel back, away from the moment. Max took a measured breath before answering. “I understand what it feels like to be a child wanting a father, then wanting any family at all. I would never put any child through the pain of having those hopes dashed.”
The ache in her stomach screamed. Heat flooded her cheeks and she reached out for him, seeking his hand. Needing to connect. “Max, I’m sorry. I should have thought that and realized you would understand. I—”
“You have nothing to apologize for. You’re looking out for your kids. That makes you a good mother, and quite frankly, it makes me like you all the more.”
“You like me?” She couldn’t resist the urge to flirt, just a little.
“Yes, I do like you. You’re an incredibly likable woman.” He leaned in and whispered, “And I really like you with your clothes off.”
“Well, the guests have checked out and no one’s due in. The kids are at preschool...” Temptation pulled at her. She felt the connection in the air between them.
“Hmm... I would take that as an invitation, but then I know this place well. There’s always traffic.”
“I do have a dress client coming by in a half hour.”
A devilish grin spread across his face as he squeezed her hand. “Then how about we make out in the pantry?”
With ease, he lifted her off her feet and brought them to the kitchen pantry—away from any and all prying eyes.
* * *
The last two days had unfolded at a breakneck speed of work for him and an uptick in business for Natalie, as well. Max attributed that to the lack of time together, the distance.
Or rather he could have.
But her standoffish vibe was clear, granted it was in an understated way. She was never rude to anyone. But there was no mistaking that some of her busyness was self-inflicted.
Morning sun streamed through the front windows of the sitting area, and Max pored over documents in the common area of the B and B, enjoying the generous amount of natural light the two huge windows provided. He thumbed through a St. Cloud Security Solutions company report on an overseas project. His business partner and the company’s chief technology officer, Will Brady, had been keeping him up-to-date on details from the main office. Balancing all his contacts and projects the last few days had drained him. Keeping up with business back in Seattle and working late here when people were most often free for interviews was more challenging than he anticipated.
That didn’t leave him much time to spend with Natalie, especially given how early she woke to prepare breakfast for her customers. His and Natalie’s paths weren’t crossing much privately—only a few stolen kisses that she clearly enjoyed, but there hadn’t been a chance for anything more. And certainly not an opportunity for any lengthy discussion. Was that deliberate on her part or accidental?
Stealing a glance across the room, he watched Miss Molly curl around Colby’s feet. The dog let out an audible sigh, her soulful brown eyes shifting around the room, head tilting to look at Margie and Lexie.
Natalie’s words echoed in his mind, along with her step back when it came to going to bed together again. He didn’t so much sense a no, but more of a “not right now.” Maybe she was figuring things out in her mind in regard to her children. He respected what she’d said. Her children had been through a lot very young. His life on the streets had made him even more empathetic to struggles. And he wasn’t going to be here long...something that should be a relief, since no one could get overly attached to him.
Right? The thought didn’t bring him as much comfort as it should have.
Lexie stood up, tapped Margie on the shoulder. She cupped her hands together and leaned on the woman’s lap, whispering in her ear. Margie’s face softened and she nodded.
“Yes, you can go see your mom, sweetie.” Margie gave her a hug, eliciting a squeal of delight from Lexie. She scampered away, disappearing from view.
Margie handed crayons to Colby, and he began to color another fish. Colby’s fish drawings were all around the house, hanging on the fridge, in the common room. He was actually quite good, his details precise with scales and gills.
The little boy popped a Goldfish cracker into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Max wondered what it was about the water that intrigued Colby. Even his room was sea themed.
Closing his laptop and shoving his documents
into a manila file folder, Max followed what his gut instincts were telling him. He walked over to the corner table with his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat. “Margie, if you want to take a break, I can hang out with Colby.”
The older woman glanced up, smiling. “Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind, I would like to stretch my legs and refill my glass of tea.”
“Take your time. I’ll send a shout-out if I get in over my head,” Max said and nodded. Then he shifted his attention to the four-year-old, who carefully picked up a pretzel stick, dipped it in peanut butter, then dabbed a small fish cracker with the sticky end.
Ingenious.
But then he’d seen dozens of ways Natalie multitasked as a mother while managing her B and B and wedding-dress-design business. That humbled him more than a little as he considered he had only himself and his company to think about. Hell, some days he barely had time left over to eat away from the computer.
He glanced at Colby again, the boy so silent, such a mystery to Max still. The child pretty much only let Miss Molly near him for any extended length of time. The golden retriever’s tail thumped on the floor as she leaned against Colby’s legs.
Maybe there was a way to accomplish a few goals at once. Give Natalie a break. Show her he knew how to let the kids have fun without them growing too attached. And yes, give Colby a nice outing, one of the child’s choosing. “Do you want to go fishing?”
Colby chewed thoughtfully, then set aside his peanut butter–covered pretzel stick. “Gotta ask my mom.”
“Of course.” He should have thought to reassure the boy of that right away, but he hadn’t spent much time with kids since leaving foster care. “But if you don’t want to go, then there’s no need to even ask her.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want to know that it’s something you would enjoy.”
Colby nodded. “Fishing is quiet. I like quiet.”
“Good. I like quiet, too.” There weren’t many silent moments in crowded group homes and overcrowded foster families. But Max had had one foster father who’d always woken up earlier than the others to cook breakfast and he’d let Max join him. They hadn’t spoken much, but Max had learned more, gained more confidence, in those near-silent exchanges than during any other time growing up.
“I don’t like taking it off the hook. It feels weird.”
“I can handle that part. Are you okay with eating the fish?”
Colby grinned and held up his cup of crackers, rattling them. “I like all kinds of fish. But I mostly like the real kind grilled. And corn on the cob, too.”
And right there, the boy had said the most words at once in Max’s presence.
The sense of victory rivaled winning a multimillion-dollar contract. The feeling gave him a moment’s pause. This simple outing was supposed to be about Colby...not about Max. He was supposed to be careful the kid didn’t grow too attached to him.
Max hadn’t considered he might actually become attached to the child.
Clearing his throat and shaking off the unsettling feeling, Max stood, careful not to move in too close to the boy and encroach on his personal space. “Let’s talk to your mom.”
They made their way to the sewing room. Glancing around, he realized how busy she was with the client. An explosion of lace and patterns seemed to occupy every spare surface. Chaos contained, but only barely.
Somehow amid all this chaos, Lexie managed to find sleep. She was curled up on the nap mat and did not stir.
He waited for a break in her conversation with the customer, then asked softly, “Natalie, do you mind if Colby goes fishing with me?”
She glanced at him, then at the customer and over at napping Lexie. He could see her independence at war with her need for help. “Max, are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”
Colby stepped inside the room, shuffling his feet, eyes darting. “Please, Mom.”
Her face melted into a smile. “Of course, son. But you have to promise me you’ll listen to Mr. Max and don’t wander off. Okay? Promise?”
Colby nodded solemnly. “Promise.”
Her smile growing, she gazed at Max. “Thank you so much for the generous offer. There’s fishing gear in the shed out back. And please be sure to use the extra car seat in the mudroom.”
Max nodded, already planning a quick trip to the store because he wasn’t using her dead husband’s gear. “We’ll do our best to bring home food for all.”
He drove them to the local fishing store for an array of supplies. Colby picked out two poles and Max chose one. They loaded up his SUV with tackle and bait. Colby seemed excited by the lures, and his smile grew as they approached a nearby river.
An hour had passed by in a whir of activity. They’d managed to catch three sizable fish. Colby clapped after he brought the first fish to shore, excitement wriggling through his little body. Three fish were chilling in the icebox they’d brought, certainly enough for dinner.
The silence of the last twenty minutes felt soothing. Max felt himself decompress as they sat side by side, listening to the softer sounds of the river as it whirred by. He’d purposely chosen a spot away from some local picnickers, and enjoyed the view of the houses on the other side of the water and the big live oaks shading a bend in the river. Every now and then, a fish jumped, the splash making a wet plunk. Other than that, the day was quiet. The silence had attracted him to computer work. He liked the self-reliance that silence forced.
Colby seemed to enjoy the quiet, as well.
To make the boy feel as comfortable as possible, they’d brought Miss Molly. Max had been concerned the dog might bark and scare way the fish, but the golden retriever was as quiet as a church mouse. She simply rested her head on Colby’s leg, her wide brown eyes watchful, alert, but calm. Max was starting to buy into this whole service-dog angle for autism. It had seemed kinda fuzzy wuzzy before. Not very scientific. But Max had been watching. And the dog employed techniques to keep Colby calm that went beyond the boy just feeling comfortable with his four-legged companion. Pressure at just the right moment to stop a meltdown. Alerting Natalie when Colby was growing agitated. The list went on and every time Margie came by for lessons, they fine-tuned training, increment by increment.
Colby cast a quick glance Max’s way, then turned his face back to the water. “My dad isn’t coming home.”
The air whooshed from Max’s lungs. This conversation had gone deeper than he’d expected. Deeper than he thought Natalie would want. But right now Max had to handle this as best he could for Colby’s sake. “I’m very sorry about that.”
He nodded, his head moving like the jerky fishing bobber. “Mom’s sad.”
Of course she was. Could that be a part of her pulling away? And how damn wrong was it to feel jealous of a dead man? “And what about you?”
“Lexie’s sad.”
“And you?” Max asked again.
The grief in the boy’s normally rather flat tones tore at Max. “I don’t like when people are sad.”
“I don’t either, buddy.”
“I’m not your buddy.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You don’t know me.”
“All right. Fair enough.” More silence sprang up, allowing Max to contemplate the boy’s words. Max knew what it was like to be wary of trusting other adults—part of why he’d been so drawn to the logic of computers. An idea tugged at him. He cranked his reel in, then cast again. “Colby, when we finish up here, would you like me to show you some fishing games on my computer?”
“Yes, please.” He nodded eagerly, still keeping his face forward. “But we’re still gonna grill our fish, right?”
“Absolutely,” Max said without hesitation, pumped at the boy’s enthusiasm over th
e computer idea. “Absolutely.”
And he was unsettled at how much this victory meant to him.
* * *
The sun had already receded from the horizon as Natalie stood at the sink and cleared off the supper dishes. She’d tucked her children into bed, and sleep had found them quickly.
Colby had gone to sleep so quickly and deeply he hadn’t even needed his weighted blanket that helped him with sensory issues. He’d clearly enjoyed his afternoon with Max. Which, of course, made her happy.
But, God, it worried her a little, too. She hated that she had to worry about that, since she wanted desperately to see more signs of him connecting with people.
“You’re quite the chef.” She scraped the traces of grilled catfish, corn on the cob and a raisin-and-rice salad into the garbage disposal.
“You should see me in my own domain.” He sprayed cleaning solution on the kitchen table. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by her. Receiving help wasn’t something she was accustomed to, and she appreciated it.
Moving from the trash can to the sink, she pressed on. “Your house in Seattle?”
“Condo actually, in my company’s St. Cloud Tower. It keeps me close to work.”
“A condo. In Seattle.” She couldn’t imagine living without a yard for her children and Miss Molly to run in.
“I haven’t had much use for a yard with all the time I spend away from home. But I can see the benefits of a porch swing.” He winked. “I’ll have to look into installing one on my rooftop garden.”
For a moment, her mind wandered to the rooftop garden. What it would be like to nestle next to him in the cold Seattle air on that yet-to-be-installed porch swing. “I imagine that would be a lovely view.”
“You should come see it.”
She just laughed softly. Like that was even possible.
“You should,” he said with unmistakable sincerity. “I could cook for you there. My kitchen is a sight to behold.”
“Unlike here?” She waved around her kitchen. Homey, sure. Up to code. Clean. But a long way from the high-tech sort of place a billionaire could afford.
Taking Home the Tycoon Page 10