Baby Under the Christmas Tree

by Teresa Carpenter

  “All that running around at the zoo wore him out.” She carefully placed her sweater over him. “I expected him to wake up on the trip in.”

  “Yeah, he sleeps like the dead.”

  “Yuck.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

  Max shook his head in obvious disdain at the sensitivity of girls. “He also kicks,” he warned. “So don’t be startled if you hear movement.”

  “That’s good to know. Thanks.” She held out her hand palm up. Before she could ask for his keys, he cupped her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss in her palm. Her knees went a little weak, as tingles of awareness sizzled along her nerves.

  She found herself leaning toward him before she snapped to attention, snatching her hand from his grasp.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Saying thank you.”

  “Well, don’t. This is my job.” She reinforced her professional stance by stepping behind the desk, mentally willing her heartbeat back to normal. She really needed to get a grip on her libido. He was off-limits on so many levels. So he had a little humility. So what? He was still a jock, still professional suicide, still a beast.

  “I was asking for your keys. Which reminds me. We never finished our conversation of tit for tat. You know, what you would do for me if I helped you out?”

  “Sure we did,” he asserted, taking a few steps toward the door. “I cooperate and you handle a few of the more mundane tasks for me.”

  “Right, let me be clear what I mean by cooperation. First, I do have other assignments, so I need you to be respectful of my time. Don’t blow me off, and don’t be late.”

  “Nice—” Sarcasm dripped from the word.

  She held up her hand to stop him. “I’m not done. Second, don’t ad lib. You’ve asked for our help, use it. If someone puts you on the spot, say you’re running late and ask them to call the PR office to set up an interview.”

  “I can do that.” A little less jerky.

  “Good. Third, do not engage with Amber over anything. The lawyers said it and I’m repeating it. After you’ve told her you’re keeping Troy, let us and the attorneys handle her. She’s going to try to draw you out. Don’t let her.”

  He stood, hands on hips, contemplating her. His expression was blank as his eyes ran over her. She braced, ready for an icy set down.

  “That’s a lot of cooperation,” he said, his tone deceptively mild. “What am I getting in exchange?”

  “You said shopping.” Easy enough for her to do but something men despised, at least her brothers always had.

  “I’m going to need more.” He reclaimed the distance he’d given up so he loomed in front of the desk.

  “I don’t think so. I already gave you the last two days.”

  He shook his head. “That’s the job. You already made that clear.”

  She sat down and immediately regretted the decision to do so. The man towered over her. She spread her hands on the desk.

  “Do you want my help or not?” she demanded as if the sheer size of him didn’t intimidate. As if her skin didn’t still tingle from the feel of his mouth against her palm. “You’re due on the ice in twenty minutes.”

  Eyes narrowed on hers, he reached into his pocket and set his keys on the desk.

  “And your credit card,” she demanded.

  He braced both hands on the desk and leaned forward until their noses nearly touched. The predatory gleam in his navy gaze sent the blood rushing through her veins.

  “This conversation is not over.”

  She lifted her chin. Met him stare for stare.

  “I have four brothers,” she informed him. “Threats don’t work with me.”

  He straightened, reached into his pocket for his wallet and tossed down a black card. And then he leaned over until his breath heated the sensitive skin behind her ear.

  “I’m not your brother,” he warned, the threat in his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

  Without another word he turned and strode from the room.

  * * *

  Max palmed his phone after leaving Elle’s office and hit the number for the private investigator recommended by Ray.

  He’d lost that round. But he wasn’t as upset as he should be. The woman stood her ground better than some defensemen he knew. He had to respect that.

  The investigator picked up and Max asked for a report.

  “She’s in Phoenix. She hooked up with one of the Coyotes during your last home stand. Jones Anton. They partied pretty hard here and she followed him home, moved the party to Phoenix. They’ve been hitting the clubs nightly.”

  “Is she staying with him?” Max demanded though he knew the answer. She was a clinger and players were her thing.

  “Yeah.” The confirmation came down the line. “It’s not the first time. I talked to one of his teammates. He said Amber and Jones have been connecting whenever Phoenix played San Diego for the past four months. The Coyotes are at home for another five days. Do you want me to make contact? Let her know she’s needed at home?”

  “No,” Max instructed. “Just keep tabs on her. Let me know when she’s headed home.” Elle wanted time, Max would give her time. The longer Amber was away without making contact the worse it would look for her. And he needed every advantage he could get.

  Elle had really slayed him when she’d suggested putting Troy up for adoption. Max realized some of the resentment he’d been harboring against Amber had rolled over to Troy. But the thought of giving him up gave Max a new perspective, revealing raw emotions he’d never experienced before.

  He had no illusions about himself. He knew he was emotionally stunted. Raising Troy was going to be the ride of a lifetime. But Max was in it for the long haul.

  “Beasley. In my office now,” Coach called as Max strode across the locker room.

  He changed his course, propped himself in the doorway. “Yeah?”

  “Have a seat.” A stocky man in his fifties, Coach pointed to the visitor’s chair. “You’re late.”

  Max made a point of looking at his watch. “We have fifteen minutes before we need to be on the ice. I’ll make it.” He turned away.

  “Sit down. You’re late for you. You’re usually here an hour early.”

  Max sat. “I have some things going on in my life.”

  “So Ray told me.” Coach clasped thick fingers together on the desk. “You want to talk about it?”

  “No.” Living it was exhausting enough.

  Coach nodded and light bounced off his bald dome. “Let me know if that changes.”

  “Sure.” Max made to rise but Coach stopped him with a raised hand.

  “I’m not done. Ian isn’t going to be back for eight weeks. I’m going to be assigning an interim captain while he’s on the injured list. You’re my strongest man on the ice. I want you to take it on.”

  Max started shaking his head before Coach finished. “I’m not a leader. You know that.”

  “I know you think that, but the players respect you. They listen to you. You’re leading without even knowing it.”

  “Ask Tank. He’s solid, has maturity.”

  “Tank is a great goalie because he’s very reactive. Proactive? A strategist? Not so much.”

  “Coach...” Max sighed.

  “I want you to think about it. And think hard. The team needs you.” Coach picked up a pen, tapped it against the blotter. It wasn’t like him to vacillate. “The exposure could help y
our image.”

  “So this is coming from Ray?” Max carefully kept the anger out of his voice. So that was it. He was grateful for the PR department’s assistance, but he’d be damned if he’d let them interfere with his play on the ice.

  “Hell no. I’m the head coach.” Totally intent, Coach leaned forward in his chair. “I don’t take coaching instructions from anyone. You’re disciplined, aggressive on the ice and always looking to improve your skills. You’d be a dream player if you weren’t such a damn loner.”

  “I have to get on the ice.”

  “You want to win, don’t you? You work harder than anyone. The next eight weeks takes us through the middle of the season. To have any hope of reaching the play-offs, we need to come out of it with a winning record. We’ve taken four losses since Ian was injured.”

  “One of our starters is out. We just need to regroup.”

  “Horse puckey.” Both hands hit the desk as Coach surged to his feet. “We need a leader on the ice. You’re always three moves ahead. The whole team needs to get to that point. You can get them there. You have a natural talent and it’s time to capitalize on it for the team.”

  “I want to win.”

  “Good.” Coach beamed and rubbed his hands together. “I’ll make the announcement at practice.”

  “Hold on.” Max stopped him. “I want the cup as much as anyone, but I’ve got a lot going on right now. I have to make time for my kid.”

  Coach’s face fell. “I have a family. I respect where you’re coming from. But the team needs you. It wouldn’t be much different than what you’re doing now except for sitting in on the coaches’ meetings. You already give me a weekly report on the team’s performance. You’d just have to share the information with the players.”

  Max pushed to his feet. Just to get out of there, he gave Coach the answer he was looking for. “I’ll think about it.”

  * * *

  “Elle!” The name carried clearly on the brisk night air to where Elle stood waiting with Troy outside the superstore in Point Loma.

  She smiled even as she turned, warmed by the familiar sound of her friend’s voice. Michelle had called while Elle was buckling Troy into his slightly-too-small car seat. Elle had offered to wave off her shopping trip to meet up with her friend who was only in town for the night, but Michelle suggested she join Elle instead.

  Michelle looked lovely as usual in a waist-length leather jacket and jeans tucked into black high-heeled boots. Her long blond hair flowed softly past her shoulders.

  “You look fabulous.” Elle hugged her longtime friend. For a moment she flashed back fifteen years to Princess Camp where she’d met Michelle and Amanda, or Sleeping Beauty and Rapunzel to Elle’s Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Those summers had been life-changing for her. “Love obviously agrees with you.”

  “I’m happy.” She simply beamed. “Life has never been better.”

  “I’m glad,” Elle said, and she was, but Michelle’s happiness just served to showcase the shambles Elle’s life was in at the moment. She craved order and for the next few weeks she was responsible for a man whose entire life was in a state of chaos. She loved Michelle, but yeah, Elle was a little jealous.

  Putting her petty feelings aside, she introduced Michelle to Troy.

  “Well, you’re a cutie.” Michelle playfully shook Troy’s hand before meeting Elle’s gaze. “And he belongs to Max Beasley? Hard to imagine The Beast with a kid.”

  “Exactly. Right? But it’s all too real. And it’s my job to shop for a wardrobe and outfit a nursery.”

  “Lucky for you I’ve just been through this very thing.” Michelle hooked her arm through Elle’s and turned her toward the store’s entrance. “This is going to be fun. Let’s go spend The Beast’s money.”

  “How are Gabe and Jack?” Elle asked about Michelle’s new fiancé and his ward.

  “They’re great. I miss them so much when I travel. Are you sure you can’t make it to the club tonight? I can get you passes.”

  “I’d love to go hear someone sing your songs.” Elle remembered the thrill of hearing that Michelle had sold her first song to a rising Nashville singer two months ago. “Any other time I would, but I’d probably fall asleep at the table.” She recounted the events of the past two days. “I’m exhausted.”

  “You slept with Max Beasley?”

  Elle rolled her eyes. Of course that’s what her friend focused on. “Slept being the operative word in that sentence.”

  “And it took you twenty minutes to tell me? I always knew you liked Amanda better than me.”

  “Don’t pout.” Elle gave a fussy Troy her keys to play with. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to Amanda either. And you’re making this into something it’s not.” Something it could never be. And no, that was not a pinch of regret.

  She stopped next to a rack of baby clothes. “Oh my gosh, look at these tiny jeans. Aren’t they the cutest thing?”

  “Check out these overalls.” Michelle held up a khaki outfit and Elle relaxed, having successfully changed the subject. But her calm shattered a moment later.

  “Don’t think you’re going to get off that easy. The Beast oozes sex. You can’t tell me you slept with him and just shrug it off. I know you think the guy is a tool, but he has one fine body.” She gave Elle a cheeky grin. “Is he boxers or briefs?”

  “Knock it off.” Elle rolled her eyes. “Nothing happened. Troy was between us mo—” She cut herself off, but too late.

  “Most of the time,” Michelle finished for Elle, coming around the cart and lowering her voice. “Which means not the whole time. Spill.”

  Elle hesitated, chewing her bottom lip as she retrieved her keys from the back of the cart where Troy had dropped them. To distract the boy from their conversation, she handed him a miniature toy truck from an endcap display. Then she caved.

  “So okay, I woke up in his arms.”

  “I knew it,” Michelle crowed.

  “Yes, and the man is so hot he almost set the sheets on fire.” Elle fanned herself playfully though in truth the memory of those first disorienting moments when she’d snuggled back into Max’s arms really did send heat spreading through her body. “But he’s still a tool.”

  “Goes without saying,” Michelle agreed loyally. “And doesn’t that make for a challenge? We all know how you like a challenge.”

  “What?” Elle looked up from the toddler jacket she’d pulled from the rack.

  “Come on, Elle. Thou protesteth too much. The man has made it into every conversation we’ve had in the past couple of months. That says something.”

  “Maybe that I’m venting?”

  “I think it’s more than that. You’re attracted to him.”

  “Well, yeah. I like chocolate cake for breakfast, too, but I don’t give in to the lure of that either.”

  “Would it be so bad to let him close?” Michelle’s tone took on a serious note. “Your love life has been a little slim lately.”

  “Try nonexistent.” Rather than meet her friend’s gaze Elle examined the car seats that caught her attention. “But Max isn’t the cure. He really is annoying, and sports are his life. Literally. You know how I feel about that.”

  “Right. No sportsmen for you. You know, you’re really cutting out a large portion of the male population with that edict,” Michelle said as if delivering hard news. “And when you cut out married men and same-sex partners, there’s not a whole lot left. I thought you gave up on that rule
when you tried that online dating service and only got three potential matches.”

  Elle cringed at the memory. That had so not been a good idea. “I’ve broadened my criteria since then.”

  “I hope so. I swear one of them looked like a serial killer.”

  Elle flushed. “They weren’t that bad.”

  “Please. The serial killer was the only one with anything going for him. The other two were clearly mama’s boys. Just because Max plays hockey for a living doesn’t mean he doesn’t have other interests.”

  “Not that I’ve seen.” Although there was that spectacular grand piano in his living room. Coming from foster care it wouldn’t be something passed down through the family. Maybe it came with the house. “Plus I’d rather date the serial killer.”

  “Liar. The man is intelligent, hot and rich. That’s a magic combo for any woman.”

  “He’s also—” She started to say “an arrogant jerk,” but looking into Troy’s sleepy gaze she bit back the familiar refrain.

  It didn’t feel quite so valid after encountering Max’s unexpected modesty this afternoon. And then there were the groceries. There was no food in his house yesterday so she’d decided to go by his place before coming here tonight to make a shopping list. But the cupboards were full, the refrigerator stocked. Plus the laundry had been done and put away. She’d been blown away.

  “He’s off-limits,” she reminded Michelle. “I’m not allowed to fraternize with the players, remember.”

  “Stupid rule, if you ask me. A lot of people meet their mates through work.”

  “It hasn’t been a problem yet. I can’t believe you’re pushing me toward Max,” she said, feeling foolish she’d never told Michelle or Amanda about her experience with Max at last year’s Gala. “You usually view a relationship for what you can get out of it. Max’s life is a complicated mess right now. I’d be a fool to get involved.”

  “That was before I fell for Gabe and Jack.” Michelle’s playfulness dropped away, leaving raw emotion. “This love gig is the best thing in the world and I want it for you and Amanda.”