A Younger Man

by Linda Turner

  But how did she forget?

  She didn’t have an answer for that. Her only option was to act is if he’d never touched her, never kissed her, never raced through the night with her on the back of his motorcycle. Yeah, right.

  Dragging in a deep breath, she prayed she could be all business as she knocked sharply on his door, but she might as well have saved herself the effort. There was no answer. Surprised, she frowned. She’d told him she would work today. Where was he?

  Chewing her bottom lip, she couldn’t believe he wasn’t there. The dig was just weeks away, and the arrangements they still had to make were daunting. They couldn’t afford to lose any more time, especially since she hadn’t been able to work at all last week. If she just had her notes, she could work at home. But his notes were in his office and he was nowhere to be found.

  Frustrated, she impulsively tried the doorknob…and gasped when it turned in her hand.

  “Aha! Caught you in the act!”

  Startled, she nearly jumped out of her skin, then turned around. “Max! Don’t do that!”

  When she scowled at him, he only chuckled. “Don’t do what? You were the one breaking in.”

  “It’s not breaking in when the door’s not locked,” she retorted sassily as she preceded him into his office. “I was afraid you weren’t coming back today.”

  “I made a quick trip to the grocery store for some coffee.” Stepping around her, he moved to the small table in the corner that held a small microwave and coffeemaker. “How are you feeling? You look better.”

  His gaze moved over her, setting her heart thumping, and just that easily her vow to keep things strictly business between them was on the verge of going up in smoke. “I feel better, thank you.” Determinedly bringing the conversation back to her purpose for being there, she added, “I lost a lot of time on making the arrangements for the dig, though.”

  “I worked on it most of the afternoon,” he said, “but there’s still a lot to do. Let me put some coffee on, and we’ll get started.”

  Thankful that there was no time for anything but the task at hand, Natalie went over her notes, refreshing her memory about what still had to be done while he got the coffee going. They both then went to work, and the rest of the afternoon seemed to fly by. If her eyes fell on him every time she looked up and she found herself watching him whenever she dropped her guard, he didn’t notice, thankfully. Still she was convinced she could keep things strictly business between them…until he brought up the boys.

  “What are the munchkins up to today?” he asked as they took a short coffee break. “I don’t know if I told you, but they impressed the hell out of me when they wouldn’t let me in the door even though they were worried about you. They’re very protective of you. And incredibly energetic,” he added with a grin. “How do you keep up with them?”

  She chuckled. “Most of the time I’m two steps behind them.”

  “I’m glad to hear it—I thought I was just getting old. Every time I thought they were winding down and I could take my eyes off them for a second or two, I’d turn around and they’d be in the kitchen, trying to cook you something special—or in the bathroom bathing the dog or brushing his teeth! And they said you said it was okay.”

  “Well, the vet did recommend that we brush his teeth.”

  “Really? And did he tell you to make sure Bongo flossed, too?”

  Shocked, she laughed. “Oh, no, they didn’t!”

  “Oh, yes, they did. And trust me, Bongo wasn’t happy about it. I didn’t think I was ever going to get that floss out of his teeth.”

  Struggling between laughter and horror, she gasped, “Oh, God, he didn’t bite you, did he? He won’t even let the vet look at his teeth.”

  “I bet he would if he had a mouthful of dental floss,” he retorted dryly. “He didn’t give me a bit of trouble. In fact, he even licked me when I pulled out the last of it.”

  He looked so disgusted, Natalie couldn’t hold back a peal of laughter. “I’m sorry,” she choked when he gave her a baleful look. “I had no idea any of this was even going on. You should have told me.”

  “When you were barfing your guts up? I don’t think so.”

  Touched, she grinned. “You’re so thoughtful. Does your mother know what a good son she raised?”

  His blue eyes twinkling, he shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Trust me—mothers know their sons. I bet she knows all your secrets.”

  What could his mother tell her? Natalie wondered. She could just imagine. Oh, she wouldn’t know about the women he’d been involved with—that he would keep private. But she would know who he’d dated in high school, his hopes and dreams, what kind of mischief he’d gotten into when he was Harry and Tommy’s age. With no trouble whatsoever, Natalie could just picture him at five, the sparkle in his blue eyes and his boyish grin a sure sign that he was up to something. If he ever had a son of his own, he would probably look just like him.

  Suddenly realizing where her thoughts had wandered, she stiffened, swallowing a quick curse. There she went again, fantasizing about the man when she’d sworn she wouldn’t! How could she continue to work one on one with him when she couldn’t even control her thoughts? If she didn’t do something soon, she was going to make a complete fool of herself.

  “I have to go,” she said suddenly.

  “Now? I thought you’d be able to stay until at least six.”

  “I…I can’t. Something’s come up with Susan and she can’t keep the boys late anymore,” she fibbed. “So if you don’t mind, I thought I might start working from home.”

  “You’re not going to be able to come into the office anymore?” he asked sharply.

  She’d surprised him, and from the scowl suddenly knitting his brows, not in a pleasant way. Her heart fluttered, and for a second she wanted to believe he wasn’t happy with the change in their arrangement because he enjoyed her company and didn’t want to lose the time they had together. But that was just her foolish heart trying to get her in trouble again.

  “Oh, I can come in,” she assured him quickly, “but only when the boys are in school.” He wouldn’t be able to meet then, of course, because he had classes, which is exactly why she suggested it. What other choice did she have? Anytime she was within twenty feet of the man, she lost all sense of self-preservation. She had to do something!

  “I should be ready to start buying supplies in a couple of days, anyway,” she added. “We can keep in touch through e-mail—and the phone, of course. I know this is inconvenient and not part of our deal, but I don’t have another sitter, and the boys can’t be home alone. There’s nothing else I can do right now.”

  Still frowning, Max didn’t agree. There had to be something she could do, dammit! He didn’t want to lose her. He tried to tell himself it was because he enjoyed working with her and was going to miss the one-on-one time they had together, but he knew he was lying to himself. It was more than that. A hell of a lot more. She’d somehow gotten under his skin, and for the life of him, he didn’t know how. She wasn’t even his type!

  So why was he fighting this? he wondered suddenly, frowning. Maybe it would be better if she worked at home from now on. They’d spent a lot of time together while she was sick and had gotten a hell of a lot closer than he’d intended. A little space might be a good thing. Maybe then he’d remember all the reasons why he should be avoiding her like the plague.

  “It’s all right,” he assured her. “There’s no reason why you can’t do most of this at home—I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. We do need to get together again before finalizing everything, though. And don’t worry about the boys—you can bring them with you or I can meet you at your house. We can decide that later. Okay?”

  “You don’t know how much I appreciate this,” she told him as she gathered up her notes. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Long after she’d gone, Max sat at his desk, trying to work. The silence that engulfed him, however, was a distraction he hadn’
t expected. Frowning, he put a CD in the small boom box that sat on a shelf behind his desk, but it didn’t help. His gaze kept drifting to the table he’d come to think of as Natalie’s desk. It looked empty without her and her notes.

  “Idiot,” he growled. “You’re acting like a lovesick fool.”

  Which was ridiculous, he decided. He wasn’t in love, never had been and didn’t intend to be. A fair number of women had tried to change his mind over the years, but all he’d had to do was think of his father—and all his ex-wives—and he’d had no trouble standing his ground.

  This time, though, he was tempted to let his guard down and see what would happen, and that scared the hell out of him. What the devil was wrong with him? Maybe he’d been working too hard. He was too serious. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been for a ride on his bike just to blow the cobwebs out of his head. He was just too damn busy.

  So make some changes, the rebel in his head whispered. Get the hell out of here and go for a ride!

  He didn’t have to tell himself twice. The thought had hardly registered before he was shutting down his computer. Grabbing his helmet, he hurried outside to his bike.

  He would have sworn he had no particular destination in mind, but before he even realized where he was going, he found himself turning down the street where his father lived. He laughed shortly, amused by the workings of his subconscious. What was this? A not-so-subtle reminder that he didn’t want to fall into the trap that his father had? Okay, he got it!

  He should have turned around, right then and there, and gone for a ride in the country, like he’d planned, but before he could, he saw his father’s car coming down the street. Caught! There was nothing he could do. John Sullivan saw him almost immediately.

  “This is a surprise,” his father said with a grin as he pulled into the driveway and stepped from the car. “What are you doing here?”

  “Heck if I know.” He chuckled. “I was just out for a drive, and the next thing I knew, I was turning down your street. Have you had dinner? Why don’t we go to that new steak place over on Kansas Avenue?”

  Regret flashed in his eyes. “I’d love to, but Becky’s inside cooking dinner.”

  Max stiffened. “Becky?”

  If his father heard his sharp tone, he didn’t pay any attention to it. An all-too-familiar smile transformed John Sullivan’s face into that of a man in love. “Didn’t I tell you about Becky? I met her at the grocery store. Her cart ran into mine, and the next thing I knew, I was asking her out.”

  “Awh, Dad!”

  “She’s the most incredible woman,” he said, smiling broadly. “Why don’t you stay and join us for dinner? I’m sure there’s enough, and I want you two to get to know each other.”

  Put on the spot, Max hesitated. How did he tell his father he wasn’t really interested in meeting her? After all, what was the point? If she was anything like the rest of the women his father had fallen in love with over the past ten years or so, she would be pretty and flighty and not much older than Max, himself. And she would stay only long enough to realize that she didn’t want to be married to an old man, after all.

  He was, in fact, surprised that the unknown Becky was not only still around, but cooking. Max couldn’t remember the name of the last woman his father had dated who had any domestic skills whatsoever.

  “I hate to intrude, Dad,” he said finally, frowning. “If Becky’s gone to the trouble of cooking dinner for you, she’s not going to want company.”

  “Are you kidding me? She cooks dinner for me every night, and she’s been harassing the hell out of me to meet you. She refuses to even consider marrying me until you meet her and give your blessing.”

  Far from impressed, Max winced. “You’re getting married? Did you mention the P word? Does she know she’s going to have to sign a prenup?”

  His father only laughed. “Oh, she knows, all right. She’s the one who suggested it! I’m telling you, son, you’ve got to meet her. I’ve never met another woman like her in my life.”

  Max didn’t put a lot of stock in his father’s opinion of women—how many times had he chosen the wrong one? Seven…eight times? And those were the ones he’d married! Max couldn’t even count the others he’d just dated, but there was no point in even mentioning them. His father was in love…again…and this time, as in the past, he’d convinced himself it was forever. For his sake, Max hoped he was right, though he wasn’t holding his breath. After all, what were the odds?

  In the meantime, he had no choice but to stay for dinner and meet Becky. His father was engaged, and he expected him to be happy for him. Forcing a smile, Max said, “She sounds great. Of course I’ll stay for dinner. If you two are talking about marriage, I need to get to know her. “

  Pleased, his father slapped him on the back. “That’s great! C’mon in. I’ll introduce you.”

  Chapter 8

  When Max walked into his house three hours later, loneliness clawed at him, shocking him. He loved his own space, loved the quiet solitude of his own home. When he felt the need for company, he had a host of people he could hang out with, including biker friends, women friends, colleagues. His schedule was busy, his outside interests were varied, and he just didn’t have time to get lonely. So what the devil was going on?

  He never should have stayed for dinner with his father and Becky, he decided. He’d expected Becky to be like all the other women his father had married after he’d divorced his mother: too young, too ditzy and looking for a man to take care of her so she didn’t have to work. Instead, she’d turned out to be just a few years younger than his father, a chemistry teacher at the local high school and more than capable of taking care of herself. What had impressed him the most, however, was that she seemed to be genuinely in love with his father and protective of him. She didn’t want him to make another mistake, refusing, in spite of his insistence, to rush into marriage. And, as his father had claimed, she was determined that if and when they married, there would be a pre-nuptial agreement so they would both be protected in the event of a divorce.

  She was up-front and honest, and Max had to admit that he liked her. She seemed to love his father even more than he loved her, and every time their eyes met, her whole face lit up. Max considered himself an excellent judge of character, and he’d immediately recognized the schemers for exactly who and what they were. If Becky was an opportunist looking for the chance to take advantage of his father, then she needed to be in Hollywood because she was good—damn good.

  And she’d given him a hell of a lot to think about. He had work to do—another test to put together—but instead of sitting down at his home-office computer in the spare bedroom, he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and went out onto the patio. It was a beautiful night, clear and cool, with a full moon. He hardly noticed. Had his father finally found the right woman and a love that would withstand the test of time? It was too early to tell, but Max had to admit it certainly looked that way, and that shook him to the core. He readily admitted he was jaded when it came to soul mates and happily-ever-afters. How could he not be, when it took two hands to count his stepmothers? But what if he was wrong? What if true love actually existed? Was there a woman somewhere out there in the vast reaches of the universe he could trust enough to love?

  Images of Natalie flashed in his head, images that teased and seduced and made him ache somewhere in the region of his heart. Stiffening, he told himself he wasn’t in love with her. They were just friends, nothing more. If he wanted to pick up the phone and call her, even though he’d just seen her that afternoon, it was only because he was still reeling from the news that his father was in love…again. He just needed to talk to someone.

  Was that the way it started with his father and Becky?

  Just thinking about it made his stomach knot.

  Pulling into the parking lot of a discount surplus store on Wednesday afternoon, Natalie should have been proud of herself for sticking to her guns and putting some distan
ce between herself and Max. She knew she’d done the right thing. There would be no more impromptu picnics at his desk, no more quiet conversations about hopes and dreams, no more moments when they were alone and their eyes met and she remembered all too easily what it felt like to be in his arms. They were back on track, back to the teacher/student, boss/employee relationship they never should have strayed from, and all was right with the world.

  But as she walked up and down the aisles of the cavernous warehouse, her steps echoing eerily, she’d never felt so miserably lonely. Tears threatened, and with a muttered curse, she quickly blinked them back. She had to stop this! She wasn’t usually a crybaby—she never had been, not even when Derek had walked out and she’d discovered that he’d been cheating on her for months. So why was she crying now? Max hadn’t done anything to her. She was the one who had decided this was necessary, not him. This was what she’d wanted, what she needed to protect her heart. So why was she so unhappy?

  “May I help you, ma’am?”

  Looking up from her thoughts, she wasn’t surprised to find a clerk studying her warily. She’d been wandering up and down the aisles for the past fifteen minutes, looking at absolutely nothing. “I’m sorry,” she told him, smiling weakly. “I seem to be in a fog. Do you have any tents? I called yesterday and was told a new shipment was coming in today. Has it arrived yet?”

  “It just came in this morning,” he replied. “I believe there’s a display on aisle three. If you’ll follow me…”

  She started to tell him that she could find it, but as he headed for the display without waiting to see if she followed, she realized that she’d already been down aisle three a number of times. And she hadn’t even seen the tents!

  “We have pup tents, nylon and canvas, and everything from two-man up to ten,” the clerk told her as she joined him in front of the display. “What exactly were you looking for?”