Baby Under the Christmas Tree

by Teresa Carpenter

  “I get that, but it doesn’t answer my question.”

  “It’s going to have to do.” He’d had enough of her intrusive questions.

  “Why? Because you don’t love him?”

  “Do you think his mother does?” he taunted, his exasperation getting the better of him. “Wrong. He’s a meal ticket for her. Nothing more. At least I provide for him.”

  “Yeah. At least.”

  He pushed to his feet so he towered over her. “What do you want from me? I never wanted a kid. I don’t really know how to relate to him. I’m only trying to make sure he’s safe.”

  “By taking him away from the only home he’s ever known?”

  “By putting him in a safe environment where he’s not likely to be dropped off at the nearest police station because the person watching him is tired of waiting for his mother to come collect him.” He turned to pace away. “Doesn’t sound too loving to me.”

  “Maybe not, but from what you told me, it sounds like his grandmother does love him. And you aren’t exactly known for your ability to commit. He’s the innocent here. He deserves tons of love and attention. I’m not convinced you can give it to him. And if I’m not convinced, the public isn’t going to be convinced.”

  “Look, I don’t have all the answers right now. But I’ve made up my mind. Do you want to hear I’ll work on the affection part? Fine, I’ll plan playdates. The important thing is I can provide for him and keep him safe. So lay out your strategy and let’s get started.”

  “Max.” She placed her hand on his arm. “I admire what you’re trying to do here, but I don’t think you realize the impact it’s going to have on your life.”

  He laughed, and even he heard the bitterness buried in the sound. “Having a kid has already impacted my life.”

  “Not as much as this will.”

  Her eyes were earnest, and he realized she really cared about his decision. Not that it was him she was worried about. Her concern was all for Troy.

  And why did that tick him off? He neither wanted nor needed her sympathy.

  “There is another option, you know,” she said softly.

  The hair lifted on the back of his neck, giving him a bad feeling about this. “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “There are a lot of good people out there who could give him the home and love he deserves. You could give him up for adoption.”

  No. The suggestion shot through him like a bullet through skin and bone, tearing at his composure and resolve, shattering his sense of self. He was independent, a loner, didn’t need anyone.

  He swung away from her, moving jerkily around to the other side of the island. He needed to get away from her, away from the suggestion he’d tossed at Amber so easily three years ago.

  Hands splayed on the granite counter he leaned forward and drilled Elle with a lethal glare. “That’s not an option.”

  Across the way Elle mimicked his pose, totally unintimidated as she leaned forward to challenge him from mere inches away. “Why not?”

  Because short stuff was the only family Max had, and that mattered more than he’d counted on.

  “Seems I care for the kid more than I realized.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SEEING HIS INTERNAL STRUGGLE and the truth of his decision in his navy blue eyes, Elle nodded. She’d had to brace herself to ask the tough questions, but she was glad she had. She felt better about his commitment to Troy.

  She sat back and pulled up a spreadsheet on her computer pad.

  “This is the plan Ray and I worked out.” She swung the pad around so he could see as she read through the plan.

  • Determine legal position

  • Get Troy a respectable nanny

  • Show Max in a good light

  • Press

  Max’s expression went totally blank as he read the list. As she’d expected, he zeroed in on the third item.

  “‘Show Max in a good light’?” he read out loud. “Explain.”

  “Simple, really. Everyone expects this to get ugly so it’s important to build up your goodwill with the community now to stand you in good stead when the situation heats up.”

  “And what do you feel is necessary to garner this goodwill?”

  “A few public appearances, mostly team events like the blood drive this weekend and the Wish upon a Puck Gala later this month. Maybe we can find a charity you can endorse. That kind of thing. This is where we need your input.” She pointed to the press bullet.

  “We can either dig into our list and get as much done as possible before the press gets wind of the situation, or we can release a statement so we control the information they get.”

  “Hell.” He flexed his shoulders as if to adjust a heavy weight. “This is all so involved. I simply want to raise my kid. Why does it have to be so complicated?”

  “You asked for help. This is us helping.” Hand on her hip, she challenged, “What exactly do you object to? Other than the public appearances, of course. We both know how you feel about those.” He’d only ever done the minimum his contract called for.

  “Isn’t that enough?” He gestured angrily at the screen. “Why does it have to be so public?” He shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

  “Do you doubt Amber will make it public?” She kept her tone even, calm in contrast to his ire. “I got the impression you expected her to take her case to the press.”

  “Hell.” He growled his irritation.

  “Exactly. Max, we know what we’re doing. Is a positive public opinion necessary for you to retain legal custody? No, but your fans want to believe that under that gruff exterior you’re a decent guy, one who wouldn’t take his child away from his loving mother.”

  “Loving mothers don’t abandon their children.”

  “The public doesn’t know about that. And if you come out and say what a bad mother she is, you look bad for leaving Troy in her care. Yes, you’re doing something now, but it takes a lot to sway sympathy away from the mother. You’re straddling a fine line here.”

  He sighed and leaned over the spreadsheet. “So we want control.”

  “That’s my preference, yes. I’d really like to get you and Troy in the public view right away so it’s not such a surprise you have a child. And to get the public on your side. How much time do you think we have before Amber surfaces?”

  He scowled. “Your guess is as good as mine. Could be ten minutes from now or a week from now. She knows I have Troy, which could send her racing home. Or free her to hang out for another week.”

  “You haven’t heard from her?”

  “No. I did hear from Donna. Amber hasn’t called her either.”

  “What did Donna say when you told her you were taking Troy?” Elle wondered, knowing the woman cared deeply for her grandson.

  “‘It’s about time,’” he said, his tone resigned. He wet a paper towel and swiped it over Troy’s face. “And then she cried.”

  “Oh.” Elle cringed a little, sympathetic to the woman. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Yeah.” Max used the paper towel to sweep the crumbs on the high-chair tray into his hand before tossing the works into the trash. “Now she can accept her beau’s proposal with no regrets.”

  “She’s getting married?” At least something good might come of this whole fiasco.

  He nodded as he lifted Troy out of the high chair and set him down on the floor. “She said to look for an invitation soon.”

 
“Good for her.” Elle entered the info in her computer pad.

  “You think so?” Max demanded, his gaze on Troy as he ran toward the family-room sofa.

  “Of course,” she confirmed, surprised at his reticence. Then she got it. “You were hoping she’d continue to watch Troy.”

  “He knows her. It would have made the transition easier for him.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. And though she believed his motives were more selfish than he let on, he was thinking about Troy. That was a good thing.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll find a good nanny for you,” she assured him and then redirected him to the schedule she’d worked out. “Since we don’t know how much time we have, I suggest we get as much done today as possible. I made an appointment for us with Legal at eleven. And I have a contact at the zoo who says a bunch of Scout troops will be visiting tomorrow. I want you to take Troy over there.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s a great photo op.”

  “You want me to go to the zoo and hang around until someone asks for a photo? Wow, I’m surprised you trust me to handle it on my own.”

  She went still and studied him. He stared back looking both impatient and annoyed. Surely he knew he couldn’t just loiter around hoping for a photo op. Then she realized he probably didn’t.

  The man was a phenomenal athlete, a real demon on the ice. None of the players were more disciplined or worked harder. She knew he had a rep for being the first in and last out of the locker room. And he was smart; intelligence snapped in those navy eyes. But he didn’t like the limelight, so no, he probably didn’t know he simply had to go have fun at the zoo for a couple of hours and the media would find him.

  She could see him standing around out front waiting for someone to approach him. Like that would happen with the fierce scowl he wore. True, the frown was as famous as his slap shot, but most people didn’t get to experience it up close and personal like his opponents, teammates and the staff did. It could be very off-putting.

  “You’re right. I’d better come with.”

  The scowl darkened. “Oh, come on. I’m sure I can handle a bunch of Cub Scouts.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about.”

  “I’m not going to hurt a child.” He opened the refrigerator for a bottle of water, but she could hear she’d offended him.

  “Of course not,” she agreed, watching the muscles in his throat work as he drank. “But you’re not going to have any fun either. Yes, we have an ulterior motive for going to the zoo. But it should still be fun.”

  “Fun.” He said it as if he had no concept of the meaning of the word.

  “Yes. Lighthearted adventure, taking joy in your surroundings, antics and frivolity. Fun.”

  “I know what fun is.” The look he flashed her held none of the elements she’d listed.

  “Hum. Knowing what it is and participating in it are two different things.”

  “Yeah, well, a trip to the zoo to get my photo plastered in the tabloids is not my idea of fun.” He tightened the cap on the water bottle with a vicious twist.

  “No? Then think of Troy.” The boy had found the TV remote and turned on cartoons. “He’s at the age to really enjoy the animals.” Her nephews certainly loved the world-famous displays. “From the sound of it, you haven’t taken him before.”

  He shrugged dismissively. “Between practice, games and travel I don’t have a whole lot of leisure time.”

  “But you’re going to start making time, right? You can think of tomorrow as your first playdate.”

  “Whatever.” He mocked her. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Good idea. I’ll dress Troy while you change.”

  “What’s wrong with what we’re wearing?” he demanded.

  Elle sighed. Was everything going to be a fight?

  “You look like you slept in those shorts.” He wore a team T-shirt with wrinkled khaki shorts that left half his long, hair-dusted legs bare. A livid bruise on his right shin served as a colorful reminder of his violent occupation. “And Troy did sleep in his.”

  His lips firmed, causing the scar on his chin to flex, not unattractively. “That’s because he’s outgrown everything here. Not that there was much. He usually has a bag with him when he visits.”

  “What about the backpack the gal left?” She looked around trying to remember what she’d done with the bag when she came in last night.

  “I checked. There’s nothing more than a jacket and some training diapers.”

  “I’ll add shopping to the list.” She typed as she spoke. And then she stood. “I’ll check out his drawers. Too small may be better than dirty. You need to update his room, too. He wasn’t too happy to see the crib last night. And I haven’t seen any toys around.”

  “I’ll change.” He reached behind him and grabbed a handful of shirt and pulled it off over his head. Elle gulped at the sight of his impressive pecs, the broad stretch of his shoulders. “But, Ellie, try to remember you’re helping me with my image. Leave the raising of my son to me.”

  * * *

  The morning flew by. And Max thanked his lucky stars for the progress they made. For all her bossy ways, Elle did get things done.

  Not only had she set up the appointment with the team’s legal department, she’d asked for an attorney specializing in child-custody cases, which resulted in Harold Jones being present at the appointment. Harold had been Max’s attorney when he’d originally sought custody.

  Because Harold was already aware of the history, it didn’t take long to bring him up to speed. And they’d been able to get a plan put together.

  Harold would document Amber’s actions with Child Protective Services, starting with a statement from Candi. And Max would work on his image and stay away from Amber. When she contacted him, he was to tell her he was exercising his right to take custody of Troy. And then he was not to engage with her in any way.

  Fine with him. He couldn’t remember whatever it was that drew him to her in the first place. Alcohol had played a large part in it.

  Which was why he didn’t get drunk anymore, why he hadn’t had alcohol in a bar since she’d told him she was pregnant.

  Elle sat in on the session with Legal, but at least she’d asked first. He hated sharing his business, but it was easier to let her listen in than to have to recount it all for her afterward. She already knew most of it anyway.

  He glanced her way as he drove south on 5. She wasn’t entirely bad company when she wasn’t squawking orders at him. Except to give him a destination, she didn’t try to tell him how to drive and she didn’t chat for the purpose of hearing her own voice. Plus she paid attention to Troy, making sure he had what he needed and answering his questions.

  Now she had her phone in her hand, which he knew held her schedule. She frowned at the screen and chewed on her sumptuous lower lip, and then she nodded and informed him.

  “We have time to get lunch if you want.”

  He did want. Her lower lip looked yummy.

  “Sounds good,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. “What do you want to eat?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She sent him a rueful gaze. “I like it all. Food is one of my weaknesses. There isn’t much I don’t like. Except oysters. Just yuck.”

  They were passing Old Town so Max decided Mexican sounded good and pulled off the freeway into the small lot of a restaurant famous for its homemade tortillas.

  “Good
choice.” She applauded his selection as she opened the back door to release Troy from his seat. Another item that needed to be replaced. He wondered where shopping ranked on that schedule of hers. Not that he looked forward to the excursion. Maybe he could talk her into doing it for him.

  No doubt she considered shopping fun.

  After they got settled at the table and ordered their food, Max sat back and sipped his tea.

  “Okay, we talked to the lawyers. We interviewed employment agencies and we have appointments to meet prospective nannies on Sunday. We got the statement from Candi the lawyers wanted. What else is on your agenda today? Remember I have to be at the sports arena by five o’clock.”

  “Of course.” She placed a chip on Troy’s high chair. “You have a game tonight. The nanny agency confirmed a sitter. I sent the info to your cell. I think we’ve done all we can for today. But I’ve started a shopping list for you if you want to venture out later.”

  He tossed her his most charming smile. “I was hoping you might take on that chore for me.”

  She shook her finger at him. “Dream on. I have plans tonight.”

  “Oh yeah, what?” What kind of man yanked her chain? Probably an accountant or a banker, the responsible type who rode a desk and got his exercise at the gym.

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the scarred wooden table. “You know, some women actually like me.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched before she pressed her lips together. “They don’t know you like I do.”

  “No,” he lifted his focus from her lush mouth to meet her gaze, “you don’t know me like they do.” He saw the memory of their kiss bloom in her eyes, in the rush of pink to her cheeks.

  Oh yeah, she remembered. And he hadn’t forgotten. Everything about her screamed hands off, except the taste of her and the feel of her in his arms, both of which he recalled all too well.

  “If they knew you the way I know you, they wouldn’t know you the way they do.”