once upon a romance 08 - making a splash Page 6

  Her grumpy look faded and he could see her visibly relax. “I think so.”

  “No bias there, right?”

  There, the corner of her mouth inched up.

  “Come on, you’re almost there. Smile.”

  She did, quick and dazzling.

  Max sucked in a sharp breath. Her lips—naturally peach-colored, he suspected—lured him. He imagined them as soft and lush beneath his. “This, uh,” he stumbled. “Deal, so to speak, involves me getting you a new dress.”

  “No! I mean, no thank you. One and done, that’s it for me.”

  In the background, Danny’s muted voice drifted to him and Joey’s eagerness followed. “Dress? Kid?” He shook his head away from his musings about kissing her and held up his hand. “What are we talking about here?”

  “Both. And…” She gulped hard. “Marriage.”

  If someone had taken a knife and slashed him, he’d have felt the same sudden slicing pain. He looked around. “Anyone ask?” He waved a hand back and forth between them. “Me? You? Nope. No reason to say that kind of thing.”

  “For the record,” she mumbled.

  “No, Irish, that was a warning shot if I’ve ever heard one. No worries! It’s not like that. Just fulfilling an obligation.”

  She jerked her head back and stared at him. He could get lost in those soft, yearning eyes of hers. A shaft of hurt flashed in them now.

  He steeled himself. “How much? For the dress? I owe you that much.”

  “No charge. You pay for cleaning your jacket. I toss the dress. And you get your brother to sign the ball. Even Steven.”

  “Not so even, as I see it.” He shrugged. “But what do I know?”

  Max shoved away from the shelf before he lost control and leaned down to kiss her tempting lips.

  An ache swept through him.

  He wanted her.

  And that was too dangerous to even entertain.

  They were not good for each other.

  She was not a part of his plans.

  Damn…

  ***

  Annabelle watched his strong, broad back as he walked away. She swallowed, trying to wet her parched throat. For a second there, she thought he’d swoop her up and plant one on her.

  And heck if she didn’t want it, for a brief minute—okay, two, but who’s counting here?

  A short time later, they were back in the store, Danny saying goodbye so he could go back to work.

  “I like him,” Joey said. “He’s smart.”

  “And funny,” Max added.

  Joey liked him, a real live person. Annabelle melted. Her son was meeting male role models and had come out of his cave. Who would have suspected Max would be the catalyst?

  “He’s going to teach me, too,” Joey said. “Alpha-bee-ties.” He struggled with the word.

  She chuckled along with Max. Jerking to him, she met his gaze. They connected. Heat whooshed through her. But something more did, too. Sharing a moment with a man, bonding with him over her son, washed over her. Something only the two of them would ever know and recall, as if it were their secret understanding and no one else’s…

  Annabelle missed that.

  Now her heart tugged. She couldn’t decipher if it was because she just missed her Joseph or missed that special link with someone.

  Longing pulsed and she could barely breathe. Her glance took in Max leading Joey to a nearby display of toys and pointing out the details.

  He’s so good with her son.

  The stone wall she’d erected in her chest rumbled.

  “Don’t you dare move, you stinking sorry excuse for a barricade!”

  ***

  “And here’s the new wedding department,” Max said, shoving aside the big protective plastic flaps so Annabelle and Joey could enter ahead of him.

  “Are you sure we should be going in here?” She glanced around, obviously thinking security would find them and kick them out.

  “Oh, ye of little faith.” Max tsked, leading them through the busy workers who looked up occasionally, but continued with their work. “I know people.”

  She giggled. “Yeah, but are they the right ones?”

  He shook his head, and then pulled out his cell phone, jabbing in a text. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

  It buzzed back instantly.

  He held it up to her. “Told you.”

  “What’s it say?” Joey jumped up to look at the screen.

  Leaning down, Max showed him and read, “Be right there.”

  “Coming through,” someone shouted, pushing a wire rail with a dozen wedding dresses on them. “Moveay away.”

  “Rico?”

  “Max?” He stopped in his tracks, placing a hand over his chest. “Oh, my! One of the brothers.”

  “Rico?” Annabelle asked. “Is that you? Last night?”

  He pressed his hands to his mouth and then rushed to hug her. “Girl, you look tons better.” Pulling back, he fingered her hair. “Really? Ponytail? We can do much better than that!”

  “You, too?” Max asked, looking from the sidelines as they seemed to fawn over each other.

  Joey tapped him on the arm and shrugged.

  “Same here, pal.”

  “Bathroom encounter?” Paige came up behind them and asked.

  “You?” Annabelle asked. “Feeling better?”

  “You know Paige, too?” Max wondered aloud. How had he not known?

  “Max, keep up, hunk.” Rico chastised him, briefly filling Max in on the chaos last night.

  It sunk in, slowly and with a sense of glee. “Wait. Now I remember. Rico was at the door. You said Paige was on the other side huffing a brown paper bag.”

  “I’m trying really hard, Max, not to smack you,” Paige said between gritted teeth.

  “Paige, you’re turning on me? For shame.”

  “What’s this?” Jay strolled toward them.

  Joey gasped, grabbing Max’s wrist in a tight clench. “J-Jay Whitfield? Mom, it’s him! The football star. I think I’m gonna faint.”

  Max swallowed hard, realizing how much this moment meant to the kid. He nodded to his big brother and got one back in understanding. “Hey, Joey, I’d like you to meet my brother, Jay Whitfield. Jay, this is one of my new friends, well, him and his mom there. This is Joey.”

  Jay grinned. “Looks like you’re the superstar. Great red cape you got there.” He reached out.

  “Max, he’s your brother?” Joey asked, his voice wobbly.

  “It’s all right, you can shake his hand,” Annabelle coaxed.

  Her glance flicked from her son to Max and his heart melted at the sheen of tears in hers. “Told you,” he mouthed. “You can count on me.”

  “Thanks,” she mouthed back.

  Tentatively, Joey took the outstretched hand. Jay’s big paw engulfed his. “Gigi and I watched you play all the time. And…the kids you help…and everything.”

  “That means a lot to me, Joey,” Jay said, meaning it.

  “The football?” Annabelle eyed the tote bag.

  “Won’t let me forget, will you?” Max grinned, fishing in the bright blue bag. “Here you go, Jay. One football to sign.”

  Jay handled it and tossed it up in the air a few times. Dawning beamed bright in his eyes. “So this is what you were up to last night.”

  That and a few other things he didn’t need to know about at the moment. Yeah, he’d try to keep his attachment to Irish under the lid as long as possible.

  “Pen? Marker, anyone?” Jay asked.

  Rico clucked, pulling one from the end of the rack where the papers were. “Got it!”

  Kneeling down, Jay looked Joey in the eye. “How should I make it out?”

  “To Joey. J-o-e-y,” Max and Annabelle said in unison.

  Lifting his head up, he met her stare. A jolt of electricity rushed through him. There it was again, that flicker of instant and overwhelming connection, as if they were the only two people in the world who understood the magnit
ude of the moment.

  “You guys are cute,” Rico said. “Ooh la la!”

  “It’s not like that,” Annabelle rushed to explain.

  “Nope, just a mission. Almost complete,” Max agreed. A hollow sensation swamped him; once Jay finished signing, that would end it for them.

  “Wow! Mom, look! How cool is that?” Joey gingerly held the football and showed where Jay had signed it. “That’s my name.”

  “And mine.” Jay got up and patted his shoulder. “Thanks, buddy. Maybe someday we can toss one of those around.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure thing. I’ve got a youth football camp set for the summer. Max and my two other brothers pitch in and we all have fun. You interested?”

  “Mom, can I?” He nearly jumped up and down.

  Her face paled slightly. “I’ll get the details and we can talk about it.”

  “But, he said…”

  “No problem, Joey. Your mom’s right. We’ll figure it out,” Jay said, smoothing things over. Looking at Max, Jay raised an eyebrow as if to ask, what’s up between you two?

  Too bad his brother knew him, because he spotted the way she shifted her worried gaze to Max.

  “Well, people,” Annabelle said. “It’s time for us to find Gigi and be on our way. Mr. Whitfield.” She held out her hand to Jay. “Thank you for making my little boy happy.” He shook her hand. “Rico, Paige, good to see you in nicer surroundings.”

  “Girl,” Rico said, holding up his thumb to his ear and his pinkie near his mouth. “Call me. We’ll do something, anything with that hair.”

  She took a deep breath and faced Max. “Stay away from puddles and females near puddles. You’ll thank me for that advice one day.”

  “I’m your chauffeur, remember?” Cold dread seeped into his gut.

  “You’re off the hook. Taxi to the repair shop.”

  “Scared?” he asked under his breath.

  “Of you?” She snorted. “Dream on.”

  With that, she grabbed for her tote bag and took Joey by the hand.

  “Bye, Max. Thanks for the jelly donuts and hot chocolate,” Joey called out, turning and shooting him a big, wide grin.

  “Sure thing, Super Joey!” His voice caught and he coughed to clear his throat.

  How could he just let her walk away?

  Chapter 11

  “They were so nice,” Gigi went on and on. “If they like me, I’ll get called back for a sewing demo.”

  “That’s good.” Annabelle gritted her teeth for the hundredth time. With the back of her truck filled with bags of dirt and stone, she brushed her hands off.

  It had been hours since leaving King’s, grabbing a taxi to roar off to the repair shop, picking up the truck while not keeling over from the enormous bill, and out to her business.

  Joey played in a pile of sand yards away, his signed football perched on a stack of stones close to him. Gigi tidied up the little office nearby. But her constant chatter about the interview and how much she liked the people and questions about Max grated along Annabelle’s fragile nerves.

  Max Whitfield had gotten to her. Big time.

  She didn’t need or want reminders of the hunky man.

  Nope, she needed to get this job done; it would pay for the repair bill on her one and only truck. Focus! Priorities!

  “I’ll drop you and Joey off at the house, Gigi. Then I’ll head out to the job.” She stowed shovels and picks in the bed of the crammed truck. The long backbreaking night stared at her. “Lights,” she muttered. There was no way she could do the job in the dark.

  “They wanted to know about you, too.”

  “Huh?” Absent-mindedly, she half listened and automatically responded to her mother-in-law.

  “Well, they asked about my family. So I told them.”

  Annabelle dropped the flashlight. It clunked on the cement and rolled away. “You what?” She swallowed, trying to wet her parched throat. Her avoidance of talking about her private life was not shared by Gigi. But in a job interview?

  “They asked. I answered.” Her voice went up an octave, clearly knowing how much it bothered Annabelle.

  “Now she figures it out,” Annabelle muttered. “Like what did you say?”

  “The normal stuff.” All of a sudden she became evasive.

  “Like…” She stretched it out, hoping to prompt her to finish it.

  “You know the drill, sweetie.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” It was one thing to live it and try to move on, yet another to have to temper Gigi and her chatty ways with strangers. “It’s private.”

  “It’s my life, too, you know. I can share if I want.”

  Annabelle bit her tongue. “I know you miss him.” She softened her voice. With a weary sigh, she hunted for the flashlight and along the way gathered more tools.

  “If…I stop talking, he’ll disappear altogether,” Gigi whispered hoarsely, flicking a glance at Joey to make sure he didn’t overhear them.

  “You have pictures. And memories.” It hurt to discuss this again.

  “But I can’t…sometimes I forget what he sounds like.”

  Stilling, Annabelle leaned against the cool metal of the truck’s door. She dropped her head back to rest on the window. “I know. I remember the last words, but his voice.” Sometimes she thought she heard him calling to her. “That phone call.”

  Gigi sucked in a breath. “You never talk about it. Or him. It’s like I’m the only one who still hurts.”

  Crud! “You’re not.” Her low voice throbbed with pain. “Sometimes I think I’m through the worst, but then something comes along and reminds me of what I’ve lost.”

  Cold realization sank in.

  Max!

  He paid attention to her. Not like a person, but like a woman.

  All the things she thought she’d tucked away out of sight, out of place, and one dang time she wore a dress in two years and bang, she meets him. But only she looked like a drowned fish and he still stuck around, still made her feel things and act in silly ways.

  Things she didn’t think she’d ever feel again. Sexy. Alive.

  And all because he saw her, his Irish!

  The woman.

  ***

  “What am I doing here?” Max whistled under his breath, waiting for someone to answer.

  The door swung open. “Max!” Gigi pressed her hands to her cheeks. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “Ah, we just saw each other. Hours ago.” So what are you doing here? As if to answer himself, he held up the rectangular display case. “For Joey. The signed football.” He gulped hard. “And a new football, so he can play.”

  “You are the sweetest man.” She waved him in and called out to Joey at the same time. “We have a special visitor!”

  A flash of red sped down the hall. “Max!”

  “Hey, it’s Spiderman in Superman’s cape. Nice touch.”

  The older woman leaned toward him. “I made the cape. Doesn’t go anywhere without it.”

  “So gifted, too.”

  She nudged him. “Sweet talker.” To her grandson, she said, “Look what Max brought you.”

  He frowned at the plexiglass on a polished dark wood base. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a display case for the football Jay signed. And this,” he pulled the brand new one out of the bag, “is one for you to play with.”

  “Wow! Gigi, that’s so cool. Max, you’ll play with me, won’t you? Right now?”

  His eager smile made Max’s heart bump a few dozen times. Loneliness clung to the boy. “Sure, kid.” He looked around. “If your mom’s okay with it.”

  Gigi waved a hand. “She’s working. Got a rush job for an older couple. He’s been sickly and the Mrs. wants to surprise him with a birdbath. Loves watching his birds.” Leaning over, she whispered, “Annabelle needs the moola for the truck. Cost a small fortune to fix.”

  “Needs work, huh?” He wondered what he could do to help her. He doubted Jay a
nd his brothers wanted one of those, but maybe something like the water feature in the backyard.

  “She’ll never admit it.” In a bright voice, she said, “Joey, let’s get cracking, my boy. I’ll play quarterback and you can go out for a pass. You, too, Max.”

  “Really? Joey, your Gigi can throw?”

  “She thinks she can.” He giggled and scooted out the French doors to the backyard, his red cape flaring out behind him. “Last one there is a rotten egg.”

  “That was what I was going to say!” Max called out after him, eyeing the older woman. He didn’t have it in him to cut in front of her.

  She smiled, knowingly. “I like you. You’re good for Joey.”

  “Well, thanks.” He frowned. It wasn’t the boy he’d come to see, but he enjoyed his child-like glee. It reminded him of growing up with his brothers and horsing around with Danny still.

  Her movements were quick and sure, blocking his way already.

  “Game on, Gigi,” Max said with a grin.

  Now, if only he could have such an easier time conversing with Annabelle.

  Why? Because I want to see her again. But she’d rather not see me…

  ***

  Max ached in places he never knew could ache. “Butt cheeks?” He groaned at how many times he’d been outrun and outfoxed. “Those two.” He shook his head as he walked the long driveway. “I was played. Like a fiddle.”

  He spotted Annabelle, bent over and digging a circular spot in the front yard.

  “Good thing Gigi likes to talk,” he mumbled, thanking his lucky stars the older woman spilled the beans and the address of Annabelle’s client. It didn’t take him any time at all to spot that white truck with the funny image of her and her red hair on it as the logo for her business as he cruised down the street, searching for the house.

  The house floodlights, along with her own lighting gear, helped him dodge the many pitfalls and equipment littering the way.

  It bothered him she didn’t even know he was there. Anyone could creep up on her and harm her. Bother was too mild a word. Fear: now that was more like it.

  Miss Independence needed a little training on how to protect herself. First, be aware of your surroundings. Second, don’t work alone at night.