wanted, one father

Chapter One


Words to the scene he should be writing for his newest novel unfolded in Max Murdock’s mind as he negotiated the last block to his mother’s house. A part of him knew he was driving too fast for the neighborhood streets, but he was late picking up Annabelle, as he had been every night this week. His hand was inches from the knob when the front door opened and he stood face to face with his mother. Donna Fielding had the determined look in her eyes that said he was about to hear something he didn’t want to hear. Normally an easygoing woman, she was hard to ruffle, but when she did get her dander up, it was enough to make even a grown man quake. Some things never changed.
“I know I’m late again, Mom,” he began in a conciliatory tone as he stuffed a container of wipes into Annabelle’s diaper bag. “But the book was going really well, and when the muse is sitting on my shoulder, it’s hard to stop.”
“I don’t mind that you were late, Max” Donna Fielding said, “but…”
“And I know I’m an inconsiderate jerk,” he interrupted, not even hearing that he’d been absolved of the sin of tardiness, “I take advantage of you, and…”
“Yes, you do,” Donna said with a nod, taking her own turn at interruption.
Max blinked. He hadn’t expected her to agree with him.
“Sit down, son, ” she said in a gentle voice. “I need to talk to you.”
Panic flared. What was so important that he had to sit before she could tell him? She was getting older, and… “What’s wrong?” he asked, his worried gaze meetings hers.
For the second time in as many minutes, Max’s heart plummeted. There was no one he knew who could watch Annabelle while he worked. The idea of trying to combine child care and writing was something he couldn’t begin to comprehend.
To be honest, he had come to the conclusion that Cara was right. Their marriage was all wrong, had been from start. He realized now that he would never have been able to please her, no matter what he did. So here he was, one baby to care and provide for, and one book to deliver in two months.
Like Cara, Max had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t very good parent material. He’d asked himself a hundred times the past eight months why the two of them had even considered having a baby. All Annabelle’s birth had done was add another layer of tension to their lives. But unlike Cara, Max wasn’t one to walk out when things got bad. Mistake or not, Annabelle was his child, and he knew he was responsible for her life…in more ways than one. He would do his best by her, and that including finding a baby-sitter who would give her the kind of care he felt she deserved, care he was totally unequipped to give her himself.
She had made him nervous from the first, but Cara had been there to take care of most of Annabelle’s needs. When Cara left, Annabelle was still so tiny, so fragile. Max felt as if he were some clumsy giant trying to handle a piece of delicate porcelain. He’d tried to carry his weight as much as his work would allow when he and Cara were together, but with her gone, there was so much more to do. If it wasn’t time to feed her, she needed changing. And there was the crying. Lots of crying.


Chapter Two


Max started at the receiver in disbelief.
I bandage their hurts... a give them three square meal a day—most days.. I listen to their dreams…and hope i haven’t warped them too badly. They are my boys and I love them.
Max realized that he and Zoe Barlow were in the sort of the same situation, left with the children to raise, alone.
For some reason, he wanted to meet this person, a woman who was doing her best, even though she was afraid it wasn’t good enough. Zoe set the phone receiver aside and swiped at the stray tear that trickled down her cheek. Zoe was setting the pot on the stove when the phone rang. Uncertain she could take another grilling she hoped it was Celia.
She was surprised that he’d called back to do anything but listen as the rich, masculine voice attempted an explanation. Despite her frustration and discouragement, she found her self wondering but the man was half as good-looking as his voice made him sound.
Zoe heard him take a deep breath, as if he needed to brace himself for what he was about to say. Zoe left her hackles rising again. In the next breath, she realized and should at least her what he had to say without interrupting. He had taken the time and trouble to call back after she’d hung up on him. Taking offense when he was trying to explain wasn’t doing anything to defuse a situation that had the potential to get out of hand again.
Zoe though for a moment. Mrs Jeffries was supposed to came the following afternoon., but if she could see both parents in one day, it would save her having to spread out the meetings : “That would be fine. How does then in the morning sound?” “Ten is fine. We’ll look forward to it.”
Zoe heard the smile in his voice but decided to get to the bottom of things. “It doesn’t bother you that I’ve spanked my boys?”
Annabelle’s crying roused Max from a deep sleep. He rolled to his side, glanced at the clock and groaned. Six o’clock! Still he supposed he should be thankful that she’d slept through the night, something that happened more and more often the older she got. She was probably hungry, he thought, swinging his feet to the floor and pulling of pair of short on over his briefs. Covering a yawn, he headed down the hallway to the nursery.
She was standing up, clinging to the rail of the crib. Her brown eyes drenched with tears that spiked her long eyelashes. When she saw him come through the door, she held out her arms and cried harder.
“Annabelle!” Zoe and Max cried in unison. They headed for the front door simultaneously. Zoe pushed through the screen first and saw that Chris had Annabelle in his arms, trying his best to silence her. Seeing Max, he handed her over, relieved to be rid of the responsibility. Zoe and Max turned the Chris. The threatening tears had made good on their attempted escape and rolled down his cheeks. Zoe turned to Max to gauge his reaction. Max turned his attention to Annabelle, who had stopped crying and was investigating the pocket of his shirt. Strangely, the compliment made Zoe feel like crying. She dropped her gaze from his and swallowed.
Chapter Three


Zoe set the glass of lemonade and a platter of cookies on the table. “There will be a tad more interaction than that.” Seeing the question in Celia’s eyes, she said, He’s renting the cabin. I already got a deposit and a month’s rent.”
Max frowned. Was Zoe pretty? No. Not really. Pretty was too bland. Beautiful didn’t fit, either. She was more striking than pretty. She had a classic beauty, the king was often overlooked or mistaken for plainness because it held elements that went far beyond merely pretty. He couldn’t deny that she had made in indelible impression on him.
The lighthearted banter passed right over Max as he conjured up an image of Zoe in her modest sundress and the loose cascade of auburn hair twisted atop her head. He saw again the spattering of freckles bridge of her nose and her shoulders.
Neither does Zoe Barlow. His mind tried to tell his body something contrary to what he knew in his heart. But just because he felt an unexpected surge of desire didn’t mean she held any special interest for him. It was too soon after the divorce. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, not even a casual relationship and something told him that Zoe Barlow would never consent to something casual, even if he were interested. No, she wasn’t a one-night-stand type. She was the wedding-ring, do it-up-proper-kind of woman. The thought of remarrying held no appeal and he feared it might never again.
Donna reached out and took his hand. “If you love her and you keep trying, it will come, son. I promise.”
Max Murdock was different. His divorce and his pain were fresher. He hadn’t had time to work through the anger he must feel over his ex-wife’s leaving, let alone enough time to deal with the pain. He was divorced and will his ex might not be in his life, she and whatever had happened were still in his thoughts. Zoe suspected it would take more than a few months for him to rid himself of the pain of it. She sensed that he had about all on his plate he could handle and suspected that the last thing he wanted or needed was someone woman going gaga over him.
Why was she suddenly so interested in her looks? Was it because Max Murdock was the first man in eons to jolt her into an awareness of her femininity with his soft, slow, sexy but somewhat rusty smile? Or was it because she was finally emerging from the cocoon of grief she’d lived in so long and was preparing to get on with her life? A part of her felt sad at leaving David behind, but another part of her felt a glimmer of excitement.
Ah, David, I do miss you and what we had.
Frustrated by his inability to get the words on the page, he went a nearby liquor store to get some empty boxes to start packing. That shouldn’t take much mental power. He filled several boxes, loaded them into the Expedition’s back and the rear rests, and drove out to his new home.
As he drove, he felt a twinge of excitement. Though small, the cabin was the perfect place to create. He’d felt it from the moment he’d seen it sitting in the middle of the clearing. Though it wasn’t exactly isolated, it was away from the noise of town. He could he birds instead of sirens and smells the fecund scent of the earth instead of gasoline fumes.
Chapter Four


Max pulled into the drive, passed the rear of Zoe’s house and drove through the narrow lane that meandered through the trees to the cabin. As it had the day before, seeing the cabin nestled in the clearing gave him a feeling of having come home, which ridiculous since he had been born and raised in subdivisions. The living and dining areas were still empty, but a vase of fresh – cut garden flowers, most of which he couldn’t identify, sat on the mantle-a feminine touch to welcome him to new home. He opened the front door, giving the fresh air another avenue in and carried the box to his bedroom. He was on his fourth box when he heard Zoe calling his name.
He consoled himself with the notion that admiring an attractive woman’s attributes was just a male thing. Max forced his irritation aside. “Thanks. I appreciated your opening the windows, too. ”She wrinkled her nose. “It smelled musty, even though I was just in here leaning a week ago.”
Max unzipped the thermal bag, pulled out a soda and popped the top. “No, problem. My stepfather is going to help me move some of my big pieces this evening. we’ll come get them then.”
Now there was something to think about, Max thought, his gaze unaccountably roaming the length of her bare legs Max took a long swig from soda can and set on the counter. “I’ll bring in some more boxes.” He turned and went back out side, thinking about what had just happened. Zoe was kind of woman who worked her way into a man’s life and his mind until she got a good grip on his heart.
A sudden thought hit him. When all the boxes that could be emptied had been, Max thanked her for her help. The sound of the boys’ shoes pounding up the wood steps and across the porch announced their arrival. “Mom!” Chris called The other two boys did the same. “Are you in there?”
“Yes, I’m here,” Zoe called “Don’t come in. I’m heading home.”
“Aw, man! We wanted to see Max,” Mike said. Max wouldn’t have been human if he hadn’t admitted to feeling a bit pleased. “Come on in,” he said. “Hi, Max!” the trio said, almost in unison. Smiling at the genuine happiness in their eyes but a little uncomfortable with their unabashed hero worship, Max shoved the tips of his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. Anxiety assailed Max.
It was almost six when Zoe heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. The sudden thought that she might be going overboard on this hospitality thing gave her pause. Zoe was always amazed at how much deeper her children’s thoughts were than what she expected them to be and hard it was to answer some of their questions.
Chris’s eyes held blatant disbelief. Like Chris, she had been asking herself these same question ever since Max left the day before. Chris thought about that a moment and nodded. Chris was too young to have to bear the burden of their limited finances.
“Don’t cry, Mom.” Determined not to cry, she scooped up another spatula of frosting. “It’s going to be okay, Mom,” Chris said. “Max is here now.” Zoe’s heart gave a painful lurch. Max was the only one who had come alone and wanted the place and she really did need the money.
Max got out of Paul’s truck as the front door burst open and all three of Zoe’s boys rushed through, wide smiles on their faces, calling his name. Max’s initial thought was that it was nice to be greeted at the door, something that had never happened in all the years he and Cara had been together. The thought brought an inexplicable ache to his heart.
While the boys ran to the kitchen, Max and Paul followed Zoe to spare bedroom that was being used for strong. For fleeting instant as their eyes met, Max imagined it was his flesh her hand was skimming over so lightly.

The arrival of her youngest son was a welcome relief. There had been a strange look in Max’s eyes a few seconds ago. Zoe smiled and gestured for them to have as eat at the table, where the boys were already attacking their cake. Before Zoe could say anything else, she heard the sound of Paul’s footsteps on the porch. The answer to his question was obvious. It was an oil painting of a man leaning against the porch railing of another house. Despite her embarrassment at their seeing the picture, she had to admit their comments roused and inkling of interest in her. “My interest was always in advertising.” She said.
Though she knew Max’s heart was in the right place, his choice of words hit her the wrong way .Max looked as if she’d struck him. She shook her head and gave a wry twist of her lips. Feeling un comfortable and not knowing exactly why, Zoe drew a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. When Max finally pulled into his driveway that night, he was dead tired.
As he drove home, he thought about Zoe’s little spurt of indignation. And as he pulled into the driveway of hi old house, he thought of Paul’s comments when they’d parted at a gas station. Max had thanked his step father for helping him and Paul had assured him it was no problem.
The memory of Danny complaining about not having a grandma resurfaced. Danny might just have himself a grandma after all. He kissed his Mom on the cheek, sent her on her way, took a quick shower and fell into bed. He fell asleep almost instantly and dreamed of a passionate Zoe Barlow.

Chapter Five


As it turned out, Max’s mother wasn’t able to help him the next day because Annabelle was beyond cranky. Donna suspected the baby was cutting teeth and decided to keep her at home to watch her, just to make sure.
Max disengaged Annabelle from the car seat. She’d always liked being outdoors, even when she was a new born and since the weather had grown warmer, his mom spent a fair amount of time outside with Annabelle in her playpen or just carrying her around and letting her look at things. Max never seemed to have enough time to do the same.

You’ve never taken the time.

The tiny voice inside him made the subtle correction to his thoughts.
In comparison, Max was too wounded. Whatever he’d experienced as a cop was bound to be why he seldom smiled, part of the reason for the intensity that radiated from him. And then there was the fact that he and Annabelle had been abandoned, there was no other word for it by his wife.
To further sour the idea of Max as a potential man in her life was the irrefutable fact that he was uncomfortable with his own child, and she came with three, which would only make him crazy, even though he’d dealt with her son just fine in small doses.
The most important reason she shouldn’t get involved with Max was that she had decided that her attraction was purely sexual and therefore taboo. She’d never been promiscuous and didn’t intend to become so just because Max Murdock was such a delicious temptation.
Twenty minutes later, she neared the cabin. Max, who was carrying Annabelle, and a tall woman with short, dark brown hair were still walking around the yard, looking at this and that. Both Max and the woman turned. Zoe wasn’t even aware that she’d been holding her breath until she felt it whoosh from her body. First, Max was as attractive as she remembered maybe more so and second, the woman, though very attractive herself, was order and looked a lot like him.
She glanced again at Max and realized he was making a slow survey of her body. A flush started at her toes and moved slowly over her, seeming to settle in the very heart of her femininity. His gaze finally found hers. There was unmistakable look in his eyes, an awareness so intense it took Zoe’s breath away. So much for getting her attraction in perspective! She forced her gaze from the heat in his eyes and turned her attention to Annabelle.
Zoe’s glance met his over the baby’s head. Again there was that intangible something she couldn’t read in his eyes.
“There was never any overt disapproval. Paul is a very likable man, and Max and Ryan knew how hard it had been on me trying to provide for them, so they were fairly accepting when we told them. Paul made it very clear that he wasn’t there to take Lowell’s Place. He told them he wanted to make his own place in the family. It took a while, especially for Max, who was very close to his dad, but he and Paul have grown very close over the years.”
‘”That’s wonderful,” Zoe said sincerely. “My friend keeps telling me I’ll find someone else, but with three boys, it seems impossible to me that anyone would want to take on all of us.” Her eyes held earnest conviction as they met Donna’s. “I don’t want to make a mistake. I don’t want to add a divorce to the emotional load the kids and I already have.”
“Unfortunately, you and I both know there are no guarantees,” Donna said. “Life and love come with a certain amount of risk. If you’d like a bit of advice, I’d tell you not to rush into anything and use your instincts. They’re more often right than wrong.”
That was the problem. While she was very attracted to Max Murdock, all her instinct told her that even if he shared that attraction, he wasn’t the right man for her. But knowing that didn’t change the way her body reminded her of the length of her abstinence whenever he smile that rare, lethal smile.
Zoe told herself not to borrow trouble. It was too late to change the course she’d taken. She just have to hope he stayed a while and pray she could deal with his leaving in a way the boys would understand when it came time for separation.


Chapter Six


On Saturday morning, Max awakened slowly, to the sound of a bird singing outside his bedroom window. Max closed his eyes again, savoring the moment of quite. It had been a hectic week, and he knew the next one wouldn’t be much better as he and Annabelle settled into their new routine.
What was it about Zoe Barlow beside those long shapely legs that drew him? Something about her called out to him in ways he’d never experienced. It was more than a realization that she was extremely pretty and had a wholesomeness that was, in its own way, sexy. He decided on nothing, for the moment. Attraction to the opposite sex was normal, especially when a person had been through a lengthy period of abstinence. He could accept that. What he couldn’t accept was getting involved. Even if Zoe was the kind of woman he was usually drawn to which she wasn’t the timing was all wrong.
Max’s body responded in typical male fashion to the images that drifted through his mind like wisps of smoke.. Tantalizing. Elusive. Mysterious. Assaulting his senses and eroding his will with their very ambiguousness. Making his body war with his mind, his emotions with his intellect, insanity his logic. But when, he asked himself, had the heart ever listened to the mind? When had common sense ever won out over desire? In his experience, it was only after being in a relationship for a while that wisdom began to assert it self and the mind started weighing the pros and cons. The prudent things to do would be to keep their relationship impersonal and not let his emotions become involved. It was a good plan, if he could stick to it.
That evening, when the boys had been put to bed, Zoe sat on the front porch listening to the tree frogs and whip-poor-wills and thinking about the day. Which Celia had demanded to hear about as soon as Zoe walked through the front door. There had been a nostalgic sweetness to it that brought a lump to her throat. Three years ago, she and David had been taking Chris to ball games whenever he wasn’t on duty. Having Max go along had brought back those memories. They’d felt like a family today, and even though she knew ut was a false feeling, she’d seen the happiness in her children’s eyes. For the first time, they could relate to their friends whose fathers attended every game. For the first time in a long time, they could look over and feel that they were part of something complete, whole.
Though he did it reluctantly, he also admitted it was a pleasant experience to be regarded as part of Zoe’s family. Cara had never liked the things he did, so the events they attended together didn’t go any farther than the occasional office party. Her office party. He’d hardly felt like a couple, much less a family. Today had been different. As terrified as he’d felt when the coach mistook him for Chris’s dad, he couldn’t deny a feeling of completeness as he’d sat along the fence with the kids and Zoe, knowing the other people in attendance assumed he and Zoe were the parents of her boys and Annabelle. Knowing they thought Zoe was his wife. And despite his dogged determination not get any more involved, strangely proud of it.




Chapter Seven


Over the next three weeks, Max’s life feel into a routine that was easy and pleasant, one he took no time at all adjusting to. He woke in the morning, got Annabelle up and ready and took her to Zoe’s about eight. He stopped for lunch called to check on his daughter and went back to work until five or so.
Max’s heart ached with sympathy. He hadn’t given much thought to the many specific things fathers were expected to do with their kids. He imagined Annabelle growing up, needing or at least hoping, he would show up for her dance recitals, or school plays or Dad’s Day. He was beginning to understand how much more there was to parenting than just providing a child with their day to day physical needs. He was fast learning that those were unimportant compared to their emotional and psychological requirements.
Danielle was Pail’s sister’s daughter. Max remembered her from his youth, when she and family came to visit. She was pretty and he recalled that Ryan had been sweet on her at one time when they were in their teens, after it dawned on him that they weren’t really related. Was his mother attempting a setup after all these years? You and Paul aren’t trying to pull a fast one, are you?
Of course not. You can consider it a date if you like, but really, the two of you would just having dinner with me Paul. Danielle went through a divorce herself a couple of years ago, so she might be a good one to talk no. “I’m not asking you to marry her,” Donna said. “Just come with us to dinner.”
She stepped nearer and leaned in to kiss Annabelle on the cheek. Close enough that he could smell the subtle scent of roses. He drew in a sharp breath and Zoe’s head jerked back sharply. Their eyes met his gaze probing, hers questioning, asking questions neither had answers for. As he watched, her tongue came out and skimmed her lips, as if they’d gone dry suddenly. If they were, they weren’t now. Now they were wet and tempting, full and shapely, begging to be kissed. And he wanted to kiss them. Wanted it more than he remembered ever wanting to kiss a woman.
His head lowered imperceptibly, giving her ample opportunity to stop him, giving him time to gauge her reaction, prolonging the anticipation growing inside him. Amazingly, she didn’t back away. He could hear the soft sighing of her slow, measured breathing and was peripherally aware of the rise and fall of her breasts.
His head lowered more, until their mouths were mere inches apart. He felt her breath now, smelled the hint of spearmint. “Zoe.” Her name was little more than an exhalation of his own breath. Plea. Supplication. Benediction.
She started to turn away, but Max reached out his free hand and grasped her upper arm. Her gaze flew to his once again. There was surprise in her eyes. Maybe even disbelief. It was the first time he had touched her. Her skin was as silky soft as he had imagine, as he had known it would be from his dreams. Soft and warm.





Chapter Eight


As soon as Max left, Zoe began to pace the room. She had to think this through, try to get some perspective on what had just happened. She could tell herself that he hadn’t kissed her, so nothing had really happened, but that would be a lie. Whether or not their lips touched, they had crossed some invisible line in their relationship, and it had begun the moment they trusted each other enough to share the heartbreak of their pasts. They had moved beyond a casual relationship to something more personal, but what? Attraction, for sure. Understanding each other, definitely. What about caring? She liked him, of course, cared for him as a person, as a new friend, even.
If that’s all it is, why are you so jealous? Jealous? Is that what this feeling was? It had been years since she had experience the emotion. Jealousy was something she had never had to deal with during her years with David. He had never given her a reason to feel it. Yet the fact remained that Max was going on a date, and she didn’t like the idea one bit.
Stunned by this new development, Zoe felt tears prickling beneath her eyelids. Granted, Max’s date was a relative of sorts, but they weren’t really related, which meant he might look at her as an available, attractive woman. She probably gorgeous. The kind to knock a man’s sock off. Or his pants. Zoe pressed her hands to her hot cheeks and shook her head. Good grief! Where had that come from? Where was any of this coming from? She couldn’t be jealous. She hardly knew the man.
Maybe so, but if your reaction to him a few minutes ago is anything to go by, that’s something that you obviously want to change.
“No”
Even as the word of denial echoed throughout the emptiness of the room, she knew it was a lie. She wanted nothing more than to see what it felt like to have those lips moving over hers. She wouldn’t be happy until she felt his arms around her and experienced the touch of his body pressed against hers. And heaven help her, she wouldn’t be satisfied until she felt what it was like to be possessed by him, body, heart and soul. To be loved by him.
Love? She gave a little cry of despair. The thought that she could be falling in love with Max frightened her more than the idea of living alone without David. Not the notion of love itself. She had always hoped she would find another man to spend the rest her life with. But falling in love with a man like Max wasn’t in her plans. Max was entirely too much like the men she had fallen for in the past….before David.
No, that wasn’t true. Max wasn’t a self centered, selfish man, but neither was he a sharing sort of man. He wouldn’t come home at the end of his day and tell her what was bothering him. He wasn’t the kind of man to talk things through or disclose his hopes, dreams or fears. He would guard his hopes, fearing they wouldn’t materialize. He would watch out for his dreams, certain something might happen to keep them from coming true. And he would deny his fears, feeling they might be a sign of weakness. Weakness of any kind, real or imagined was poison to man like Max Murdock.



Chapter Nine


Max sat in the fancy Little Rock restaurant, as nervous as a kid on his first date. In a way, he supposed it was. Funny, he didn’t remember feeling so insecure as a teenager. Nervous, maybe, but no so…vulnerable. Maybe it had something to do with having failed in the most important relationship of his life. Danielle seemed a little shy, too, even though they had known each other for years. Max wondered if she dated much since the breakup of her marriage and if she was racked with the same self doubt. Thank goodness his mother and Paul were there to keep the conversation afloat as they were doing now, while he enjoyed his prime rib and half listened to the ebb and flow of conversation.
He glanced at the woman sitting next to him, her shoulders bare in a floral dress that had Class stamped all over it. Dani was exactly the type he always seemed drawn to. She had a nice body, too ripe curves in all the right places, long legs and a tiny waist. In fact, she was put together a lot like Cara. Dani looked like the kind of woman who spent a lot of time at the gym doing step aerobics and dancing with dumbbells and ankle weights, again like Cara. The time she must put in paid off. With her long dark hair and huge brown eyes, she was a drop-dead gorgeous package. He put a mental X in the plus column. As the evening progressed, he had been tallying up her pluses and minuses.
Rolling to her back, Zoe stared up at the moon-dappled ceiling an imagined him going through his night time ritual. He had go to his room and undress. She couldn’t imagine him wearing pajamas. Did he sleep in his shorts or in the nude? She gave a little moan and closed her eyes, only be assaulted by the disturbing image of a naked Max. her fingers curled into the sheet that lay on top of her. Of course, she didn’t know exactly what he would he look like without his clothes. She had seen him in shorts several times and once without his shirt, but she was a creative woman with a comprehensive knowledge of anatomy. Her imagination filled in the blanks quite nicely. She imagined him coming to her, crossing the room in the moonlight, taking her in his arms and pulling her close to his hard, warm body. For the first time since David’s death, she found her self totally overtaken by the acute pain of an intense desire.
Something in his eyes caused her take an involuntary step back. He reached out and grasped her upper arm with one hand. Her flesh was warm, soft. She looked up at him an expression in her eyes that teetered between query and anticipation. He pulled her into his arms, none too gently, swallowing her gasp of surprise with a hard, hungry kiss.
He had dreamed of kissing her for weeks, maybe since the first moment he had seen her. There was something about her that spoke of wholesomeness and innocence. The girl next door. A good girl. Her candor challenged him, taunted him as did the knowledge that she was naked beneath that demure demeanor. He wasn’t sure what he expected from her. Hesitance, maybe, after the reluctance he had sensed in her the day before. Indignation that he had do such a thing, righteous anger, even.






Chapter Ten


The soft dove gray of predawn had softened the sharp edges of night. The sun would rise soon. What kind of day would it bring? Max wondered. He lay on the banquette, his head resting no one forearm. In her gown, Zoe lay beside him, her head tucked beneath his chin, the scent of her as sweet as the flowers blooming around the gazebo. His free hand was tangled in the fiery skein of her hair, his fingertips reveling in its silky texture. Her breath was soft against his chest. He knew now, firsthand, that there was indeed passion beneath Zoe’s façade of wholesomeness. He knew now that one didn’t necessarily preclude the other, just as he knew the wholesomeness-the goodness-in her was not concocted. As she gave her all to her children, she had given her all to him.
What about Max? his feelings would help dictate where they went from here. She had never been in a situation like this before. She wasn’t the type to indulge it an affair, which left what? Marriage? She gave a little movement of her head and felt Max’s hand smoothing her hair, soothing hair. Marriage was out of the question.
Somehow, even making love a second time, she managed to get inside and into the shower before she heard the boys waking. She knew they had head to the den to turn on television, where they had stay until hunger drove them to look for her. As she stood beneath the warm spray, the soft terry cloth moving with slow languor over her body, erasing every outward vestige of what happened between her and Max, her mind replayed every kiss, every touch. She would never forget the dominance yet gentleness of his possession. She would never forget him.
A baby. The possibility of a baby was a sobering thought, thought it didn’t frighten him as much as it might have a couple of months ago. Still, he wasn’t hankering to become a father again. Damn! He couldn’t believe he had acted so irresponsibly. But he had, and he had just have to deal with the fallout, whatever it might be.
“ Don’t be afraid to love again, Max,” his mother said. “And I’m not talking about Zoe, necessarily. I do think you have learned a lot of things about yourself and where you went wrong in your marriage, and I don’t believe you will make those mistakes again. On the other hand, I understand very well how frightening it is to put your heart out there and take a chance on getting hurt again. I remember feeling a bit like that when I started dating Paul. But we can’t dictate our feelings, and the heart has no conception of time. It just feels, and if its right, you will know it, no matter who it is or how much time passed. ” She winked at him. “Remember, you have good instincts.”
Listening to her calm rationale quieted Max’s fears, at least for the moment. If only he hadn’t messed things up by making love to Zoe, he might actually feel comfortable pursuing a relationship with her…at a more leisurely pace, “How did you get so smart?” he asked.
“I’m not smart. I’m just old,” she said, smiling.
“Be serious, Mom.”
“All right. My take on wisdom is that we get smarter if we learn from our mistakes. It’s sort of like what you told your Sunday school teacher when you were in the fourth grade.”


Chapter Eleven


Zoe was in the garden, picking lettuce for dinner when she heard Max’s car coming down the lane. She tried to ignore the sudden racing of her heart, but didn’t quite manage to. She wondered if he would stop, if she should stop him. Should she be cheerful or blasé, or act as if nothing had happened? Maybe she would just try to gauge his feelings and follow his lead.
Max was wearing jeans and an Hawaiian print shirt that was halfway unbuttoned, revealing the mat of curly dark hair that she knew firsthand was silky soft. He was wearing mirrored sunglasses so she couldn’t see the expression in his eyes, which made assessing his mood that much harder.
Max reached up and whipped off the glasses, folded the earpieces together and stuck them into his shirt pocket. The expression in his dark eyes was one of caution, what maybe just a hint of worry.
“Thank you.” Seeing that her brief moment of defiance had gained the desired results, she gathered her meager courage and decided the best course of action was to take the offensive. “So” she said, taking her hands from her pockets and crossing her arms over her breasts. “Since were are in agreement on that, where do we go from here?”
“Where do you think we should go from here?” he asked.
What if she tossed a little guilt his way? “Since I didn’t exactly expect last night, I have no idea what should happen next.”
The comment had the desired effect. Guilt filled Max’s eyes…and Zoe’s heart for putting the blame so squarely on him.
“I take full responsibility,” he told her. “I don’t know why it happened, except that somehow you have gotten under my skin in a way no woman has for a long time.”
“You make me sound like some kind of nasty rash,” she quipped.
A brief, dry smile claimed his mouth. “No. never nasty”
Thank goodness Sunday was a day respite. Max did his weekend chores, glad he didn’t have to look at when they had talked the previous afternoon. He told himself he shouldn’t be feeling any guilt at all since she had acted pretty offhand about it. He had her figure for the kind of woman who wouldn’t go into situation like that lightly, but surprisingly, she had blown the whole thing off, as any woman of the world might do. He should be feeling good about the whole thing. Why didn’t he?
Because of that look in her eyes.
Oh, she had said all the things that should have made him feel better, but there had been those tears she had tried so hard not to shed and that look in her eyes that reminded him of a puppy that had been kicked one time too many. He might not be the most sensitive man ever born, but he wasn’t exactly stupid, either. The evidence didn’t add up, and his guilt was rooted in the notion that she had said the things he wanted to hear so he wouldn’t feel pressured into making some sort of commitment. It was the kind of thing he had expect from her, the kind of thing that made her so desirable.




Chapter Twelve


Cara ! Zoe knew her mouth had dropped open in surprise. If Max was shocked to see his ex-wife, it didn’t show.
“How did you find me?” He asked.
“I hired a private investigator,” she said. “It really wasn’t too hard , since you weren’t trying to hide.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked again, wary concern in his eyes.
Cara glanced from him to Zoe, who held Annabelle on her lip. Ignoring his question, Cara said, “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your…friend?” Zoe thought she saw a hint of uncertainty in Cara’s eyes.
“Zoe, this is the former Mrs. Murdock. Cara, this is Zoe Barlow, my landlady. She looks after Annabelle while I work.”
Cara’s skeptical gaze examined Zoe from head to toe. She wished she had done something to make herself more presentable before she had come to have it out with Max, not that she had ever be able to complete with someone who looked like Cara Murdock.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Barlow,” Max’s ex said. Thank you for taking care of may daughter.“
He looked down at her for long moments, as if he were trying to see into her very soul. Filled with her own confusion and fears, Zoe had no idea what he saw there. Finally, he took the baby from her. Zoe glanced at Cara as she passed, but went down the back steps without speaking. What could she say? Nice to meet you? Hardly. Cara Murdock coming was just another obstacle in the many that separated Zoe and Max. zoe heard Annabelle start to cry and hardened her heart to the sound. She couldn’t take it. Not now.
Max watched Zoe go and felt as if she were taking a part of him with her. Annabelle, too, seemed to know something was amiss, because she stretched out her arms toward Zoe and began to cry. Zoe didn’t even look back.
“It seem Annabelle has gotten attached to Mrs. Barlow.”
The sound of Cara’s voice pulled Max roughly back to the moment. He was eager to get this talk over with. “She has.” He moved to the door and held it open for his ex-wife. “Go on in.”
She preceded him through the kitchen to the living dining area, looking around with interest. Her smile was strained. “It looks like you, somehow. You never did seem to fit into our contemporary setting.”
Max was still trying to gauge her feelings. She had made little response one way or the other about his loving her and the boys. Still, she hadn’t said she didn’t feel anything for him, either. He hoped that was a good sign. He pushed a swath of dump auburn hair aside and rested his hands on her shoulders.





Epilogue


One year later…

So pregnant she felt ready to pop, Zoe sat at the drafting table in the room that had once hosed the previous owner’s castoffs and was now her art studio. She held a paintbrush in one hand and pressed the other to the small of her back.
“Honey, Joyce Kincannon is on the phone,” Max said, poking his head through the partially open door. “Do you think you’ll be finished with that cover art by the end of the week? They are really anxious to get it. Everyone is pumped for Ace’s next book.”
She look up and smiled, but before she could answer her husband of one year, Chris appeared to stand beside Max. “Mom, Annabelle had an accident.”
“Mom,!” Chris Yelled. “ Annabelle took off her dirty diaper and Mutt grabbed it.
“Ahg!” Max said, waving the air. “Put that down, you stupid dog. Ed, gotta go. Now.”
Max turned of the phone. Grabbed the smelly diaper from the dog, taped it together as best he could and tossed it into the trash.
“Take this trash out, please,” he said to Chris, who had reappeared in the doorway, “ and make that darned dog go outside. Who let him in, anyway?” “Without waiting for an answer, he looked at Zoe.” We’ have just got to get him neutered.”
Zoe smiled as a feeling of déjà vu swept over her. “Who, Chris” she asked with a smile.
“Chris?” he said, dumbfounded. “I’m talking about the dog.” He turned back to Chris. “Put your sister into the tub. Then call Celia and tell her to get over here, pronto. Your mom’s going to have the baby.”
“The baby?” Chris said. “Wow!”
“Mom’s having the baby?” Mike said, running to the doorway, Dany close behind. Max turned to Mike and pointed a finger at him. “You are forbidden to watch TV tonight for disobeying your mom. Ditto to you Danny for not respecting your brother’s things.“ Finger still pointed, he turned in the room, making sure he had given all the orders he intended. His gaze fell on Zoe , the only one left. She stood leaning against the drafting table, laughing while tears ran down her cheeks.
“What?” Max’s eyes were wide with concern as he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. “Now don’t go hysterical on me, honey.” “I’ll get you to the hospital on time, I promise.”
She shook her head and placed one hand against his whisker- stubble cheek. “I love you”
“We’ll, I’m really glad to her that since your are about to have my baby, thoigh as cranky as I’ve been lately I can’t imagine why you do.”
“Why?” she said. “Because you are my hero. Saint Max”