Baby Under the Christmas Tree Page 9

  “I’m not joking, Deb. You were the best foster mom I had and I need a nanny to help me with Troy. Because of all the traveling I do it should be someone who can live in. I’d be honored if you’d take the job.”

  “Oh. Oh, goodness.” Deb glanced from him to Elle and back again. “You’re serious.”

  “Very serious.”

  “Max, I can’t.” Regret shadowed her green eyes. “What would I do with this place? It’s been in my mother’s family for generations. It was hard enough deciding to put it up for sale. I can’t abandon it.”

  Damn. He’d hoped her Realtor would have contacted her by now. On the way to Elle’s office this morning he’d called his accountant and instructed him to buy Deb’s property for the asking price plus ten percent. He was to make the purchase through Max’s foundation and keep the buyer’s name out of it until closing.

  Of course his accountant had had a fit, demanding to know what Max wanted with a run-down ranch house and two acres of depleted vegetable plot. Plus he could sure as hell negotiate a better price. Max repeated his instructions and hung up.

  He had no definitive idea of what he wanted to do with the property. The vague notion of a sports camp for kids played at the back of his mind. It didn’t matter. What he did with the ranch was unimportant.

  He wanted to free up Deb.

  First, because he didn’t like the idea of her living in the back of beyond all by herself. And the acreage was too much for a lone woman to handle. Second, he needed her available to accept his offer to watch Troy.

  Max knew Deb, trusted her. He’d be comfortable leaving Troy in her care. But he couldn’t let her know he was the buyer. Her pride would get in the way of doing the right thing.

  “We’ll rent it out. Or find a manager. I need you, Deb. Amber has left him with strangers. I don’t want to do that. I need to know he’s in good hands.”

  “Max,” she said helplessly, clearly tempted but torn between duty and longing.

  A ring sounded from the other room. Her phone. A faint frown drew her pale eyebrows together, but she excused herself and handed Troy off to Elle to go answer the summons.

  “With any luck that will be her Realtor,” he muttered.

  Elle pinned him with a stare. “That would be coincidental, wouldn’t it? Or do you know something we don’t?”

  “I’m sure I know plenty you don’t.”

  She set Troy on his feet. “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m sure I don’t.”

  “I’m sure you do.” She leaned forward, her expression fierce as she went to battle for her new friend. “She’s a nice lady. Tell me you haven’t done anything that will hurt her.”

  “Give me a break.” Tired of her lack of faith in him, he got in her face, going nose to nose with her. “You just met her. She’s the closest thing to a mother I’ve ever known. I’d never hurt her.”

  True to form she didn’t back down, but after a moment she nodded. “I believe you.”

  Deb hurried back into the room, coming to a quick stop when she spied them so close together. Hopeful speculation entered her eyes as she cleared her throat.

  “Am I interrupting something? I can give you another minute.”

  “No,” Elle denied too quickly, jerking back into her seat.

  Interesting reaction, Max mused, unsure if he should be flattered or insulted.

  “Good.” Deb eagerly resumed her spot on the couch. “If you really want me to come take care of Troy, I’d love to. That was my Realtor. I have a buyer for this place.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “WELL, THAT WAS worth the trip.” Max buckled into his seat. “I’ll drop you back at your office.”

  “No,” Elle corrected him. “I’m already late. You have to take me to my nephew’s birthday party. Head for Bonita.”

  “You can go after I drop you off.” He pulled onto the road and headed west. “Then you’ll have your car.”

  “You said we’d be an hour,” she reminded him. “And we were three. The party started an hour ago. I’m not going to miss this party.”

  Once he’d got Deb’s agreement to help with Troy, Max had pushed for her to start immediately, but Deb had protested she needed time to pack up the house and prepare the property for an extended absence.

  Used to getting his way, Max overrode her objections by insisting on helping her to do what needed being done now while Elle arranged for a moving company to pack and store Deb’s belongings.

  Deb accepted their help, but when it came to leaving, she’d quietly and stubbornly held her ground, insisting she needed a week to take care of things she didn’t trust to the moving company.

  Elle liked the older woman. She especially liked that she held her own against Max’s perseverance. Elle hoped it meant Deb would stand up for Troy when necessary.

  “It won’t hurt to be a few minutes late.” Max tried to argue.

  “I’m already more than a few minutes late. It’ll be over if I have to go all the way to Point Loma and back. Bonita is on the way.”

  “Okay, I’ll stop and let you out.”

  “Oh, no.” His grudging capitulation irked Elle into messing with him. “I want you to come in and meet my family. Say hello to my nephew.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “And I’d rather you did. I’ve done a lot for you the last few days. You can do this for me.”

  “Troy—”

  “There’s cake. Troy will have a great time.”

  “What kind of cake?”

  Gracious, Elle racked her memory for the information, found it. “Marble with buttercream icing.”

  “Hmm.” He considered the information before nodding. “I guess I can give you half an hour.”

  So he had a sweet tooth. Good to know.

  She needed to find all the good possible in this situation because as soon as she walked through the door with Max her family would make all kinds of erroneous assumptions. She hadn’t brought a guy home to meet them since the ninth grade. An event she still had nightmares about.

  But it couldn’t be helped; seeing disappointment in Walter’s big brown eyes tore her apart. She refused to let it happen again.

  Max would just have to deal.

  Should she tell him? Give him a little warning he was about to be pinned to the grill and slow-roasted for the next thirty minutes? Nah. Not until he met Walter, who was a big fan of The Beast.

  It might be mean, but she owed Max a little mean. The memory of him curled around her in bed solidified her resolve. And Elle knew her sister-in-law had ordered a jumper, so Troy would have a ball.

  Twenty minutes later she led the way to the backyard of her brother’s two-story subdivision home. The yard was huge, with a pool, patio and lawn, though most of the grass was covered by the large red-and-yellow monster-truck jumper.

  “Elle, you made it.” Her mother swooped in and gave her a big hug.

  “My girls.” Dad enveloped them in his arms while they were still wrapped together. The scent of his familiar aftershave and the barbecue tickled her nose as a kiss landed on her head. She reached for him, too, giving her parents an extra squeeze.

  “I love you guys,” she told them as she often did. Her family believed in hugs and open declarations of love. So what if her voice was a little extra husky and tears burned in the backs of her eyes. Hearing Max’s story today had reminded her how lucky she was, and it was all because of these two people.

 
“Hey, brat,” a deep male voice called out, “you going to introduce us to your date?”

  Breaking away from her folks, Elle caught the hopeful glance Mom shared with Dad before she turned to address her oldest brother’s challenge. She forced a smile when she saw Max’s presence had garnered a crowd. Oh, boy.

  She pinned Adam with a glare as she stepped over to where Max stood just inside the gate holding Troy in his arms.

  “We all know this is the last place I’d bring a date. You all probably recognize Max Beasley from San Diego Thunder. He’s here to wish Walter a happy birthday. And this is his son, Troy.”

  A husky, blond-haired ten-year-old pushed his way to the front of the pack. Walter gazed up at Max with huge brown eyes. “The Beast,” he whispered in awe. “You came to see me?”

  “You must be Walter.” Max offered his huge hand to the starstruck boy. “Happy birthday.” His large paw swallowed Walter’s small mitt. “I hear you have cake at this shindig.”

  “Yeah, and it’s got buttercream icing, not that whipped-cream junk.” Walter pulled Max forward. “I’ll get you a piece.”

  Max threw Elle a you-owe-me look over his shoulder and allowed himself to be dragged away, a passel of kids following in his wake.

  “So you’re still holding that dinner against us?” Adam murmured next to her ear. “That was twelve years ago. Get over it already.”

  “Trauma sticks with a person. Hey, Steph.” Elle hugged her sister-in-law Stephanie. “I hope you two don’t mind that I brought a guest.”

  “Of course not,” Stephanie assured her. “Anytime.” Her gaze roamed over the broad-shouldered, slim-hipped hockey player and she hummed her approval. “Especially major-league hockey players.”

  “Hey. Standing right here,” Elle’s brother protested.

  “I know, dear.” Stephanie continued to face Max and the crowd around the cake, but winked at Elle. “Can you get the candy for the piñata while I talk to Elle?”

  “Sure, I’ll get the candy, but I want me some sugar first.” Adam turned all he-man and, grabbing Stephanie, he bent her over his arm in a grand gesture and stole a kiss. Stephanie looped her arms around his neck and the embrace shifted from playful to real in the space of a heartbeat.

  Elle left them to it. Obviously passion still existed in the eleven-year marriage and for a minute she envied what her brother had: a beautiful home, a loving partner, kids. Her goals didn’t include any of that.

  Sure, she wanted love and a family, but it was something that lurked in the future, not something she worked toward, or even encouraged, at this point in her life. It wasn’t even on her five-year radar.

  The hopeful look in her mom’s eyes haunted her. So maybe she’d accept the next time a nice guy asked her out. After all, you didn’t find Prince Charming without dating a few frogs.

  “Girlfriend, you’ve been holding out on me.” Stephanie hooked her arm through Elle’s. “The Beast? Yum. So give, what’s the answer to the question on the mind of every woman in San Diego?”

  Elle shook her head at her sister-in-law’s craziness. “What question is that?”

  “Oh, please, you may be focused on your career, but you’re not dead. And you are here with him. So is he or is he not an animal in bed?”

  “Steph!” Heat flooded Elle’s cheeks while she quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard the outrageous question. “I don’t know.”

  “Liar. Those red cheeks tell another tale. We’re tight. You can tell me anything.”

  “Honestly, there’s nothing to tell.” But the words lacked conviction. She’d been in his bed. And the memory of him sprawled half-naked, all negligent arrogance, wouldn’t leave her head.

  And she did know what it felt like to be swept away by him, to be held in a heated embrace, kissed until passion ignited her senses. But she tamped those memories down before they could escape. No good would come from reliving that moment.

  “Well, then.” Stephanie heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Shame on you. He is one fine man.”

  “He’s also a pro hockey player. You know I don’t do sports enthusiasts.”

  “Yeah, I still hope you’ll come to your senses about that irrational decree.”

  “My entire childhood was spent at one sporting event or another. Is it wrong to want more in a relationship than to sit in the bleachers or in front of the TV watching the next game?”

  “It’s not wrong. But it might well be hopeless. Because, sweetie, all the best men are into sports in one form or another.”

  Elle met Stephanie’s sympathetic scrutiny. “So you think it’s too much to hope for a man who enjoys both football and the symphony?”

  Stephanie squeezed her arm. “Never give up on hope.”

  For some reason the comment sent Elle’s gaze searching for Max. She found him surrounded by her four brothers by the barbecue. Uh-oh.

  “Excuse me.” Picking up her pace, she rushed over to save him from the horde.

  “I believe your sister just made it clear this was not a date.” Max spoke in even tones even though he appeared to be outnumbered four to one. “So if I’ve kissed her, if I’ve had my hands on her, it is none of your business.”

  “Now, that sounds a little suspicious, doesn’t it, Brad? Like Max here has indeed had his hands on Elle but doesn’t want to claim the appropriate relationship?” Adam leaned forward aggressively. “Did we mention Brad was a cop? You don’t have any tickets, do you, Max?” Then his fierce smile turned a little sinister. “And Mike is with the IRS.”

  “I can’t believe you’re doing it again.” Elle pushed into the male circle to step in front of Max and glower at her towering brothers. “At least in ninth grade you had the decency to take the guy on one-on-one. Now that we’re adults, how much more mature to go four-on-one.”

  “Elle, have you seen the size of this guy?”

  “Really,” she demanded of Mike, “that’s your response? Max is my colleague and you’re treating him like a thug. Suppose I called your boss and told him you were threatening people with spontaneous audits. Do you think he’d find it so funny?”

  “Nobody said anything about an audit,” Mike stated emphatically even as he paled a little.

  “That’s what I heard. How about you, Max?”

  “Leave me out of this.”

  “See, you’ve embarrassed my guest.” A disgusted snort sounded behind her. She ignored it. She smirked, knowing just how to get back at her brothers for their interference in her love life. “I should tell Mom.”

  “There’s no need to bring Mom into this.” Adam took a step back, his gaze shooting around the yard in search of their mother, making sure she was nowhere near to be drawn into the conversation.

  “Lighten up, Elle,” Quinn advised. “We were just making sure Max understands you have a strong support system. It’s for your own good.”

  She saw red. Nothing infuriated her more than having her right to make her own decisions taken from her.

  “Of course, that makes it all okay. So the next time you bring a date home I should ask her about her biological clock. Or maybe I should have asked Stephanie if she made enough as a sales associate at Sullivans Jewels to support Adam? Or better yet I should go ask her to step out front so I can inform her it’s not cool to ogle the hockey player.”

  “Okay, dynamo, that’s enough.” Max wrapped an arm around her waist, lifted her off her feet and carried her away. “Let’s go see how Troy is doing in the jumper.”

 
; “Let me down.” She wiggled against him but soon stopped. Rubbing her body along the hard length of his in full view of her family and friends seemed a bit brazen. “I’m not going to let them get away with treating you that way.”

  “You mean, treating you that way.” He taunted her. “I’m so lucky you were there to save me from the wolves.”

  “No need to be snide,” she huffed, trying to work her arms between them. “And you’re going to want to put me down before I kick you somewhere it hurts. A lot.”

  “Ah, ah, don’t make me find your mother.” He let her slide down his side as he set her on her feet next to the jumper.

  She bit back a smile. Oh, he was quick. Tugging on the hem of her shirt, she straightened her clothes, pretending she didn’t still feel the heat of Max’s body burned into hers.

  To distract herself she focused on spotting Troy among the rowdy kids. Found him right in the middle of the action, jumping away, having a great time.

  “You’re an emotional lot, aren’t you?” Max observed. “From hugs and kisses to knock-down, drag-out arguments.”

  She shrugged, a little self-conscious. “All siblings argue. The emotion comes from my mom’s side of the family. We’re big huggers, every time we see each other and every time we say goodbye.”

  He grunted, focused his eyes on Troy jumping away. “I hate goodbyes. They’re false and unnecessary.”

  After hearing about his childhood, she wasn’t surprised. Saddened for him, but not surprised. Her family must be overwhelming for him. Sympathy softened her mood.

  She slowly nodded. “I can see how you might feel that way. How did you handle it?”

  “Easy. I don’t do them.”

  “Never?” The pink in her cheeks must have told him where her thoughts went.

  “No.” He smirked. “Satisfaction doesn’t require a goodbye.”

  “Bragging is a sign of overcompensating.”

  “It’s not bragging if it’s true.”