Only You

by Bonnie Pega

  “Sure you can,” Max interjected smoothly. “Who would you like to call?”

  “My best friend, Patrick. Boy, he won’t believe that I’m calling him from a car phone!” Jordan continued to chatter on as he followed Caitlin and Max to the front door.

  “Um, thank you for taking me on as a client,” Caitlin said, feeling uncomfortable. “I—uh, I guess I’ll see you Friday. Well, good-bye.” She shut the door a little too hastily, but couldn’t shut out the memories of unfathomable blue eyes.

  Although Caitlin spent the rest of the afternoon cataloging a new shipment, thoughts of a different kind occupied her mind. Maximillian Shore. He made her aware of her own femininity in a way she hadn’t been in a long time. As a matter of fact, it had been a long time since her best friend Donna had accused her of exiling herself to a sexual and emotional desert.

  Maybe she had, she admitted to herself, but it was a lot safer that way. She didn’t take chances. What frightened her about Max Shore was that he made her feel as if she wanted to.

  With her thoughts in such a jumble, Caitlin wasn’t in the mood for the boisterous dinner that evening. If it weren’t for Jordie, she’d have called Donna and begged off from going over. But one of Donna’s sons was Patrick and Jordie had been looking forward to seeing him all day.

  After the meal the kids were dispatched upstairs to play video games while Caitlin and Donna took glasses of lemonade into the living room.

  “I meant to ask you earlier, how did the meeting go yesterday with the IRS?”

  “I got off pretty lucky, considering. But Arnie told me in no uncertain terms that unless I called in somebody to organize the office and records, he was going to quit.”

  “Boy, if sweet li’l ol’ Arnie said that, I’d take him seriously.”

  “Oh, I did. I called an efficiency expert yesterday afternoon. He came by today to look over the business. He said they should be able to get things in decent shape in a couple of weeks.”

  “A couple of weeks in a pig’s eye!” retorted Donna. “Don’t forget, I’ve seen your office. What I don’t understand is how you’ve managed not to lose a few bills in all that mess.”

  “I pay ’em as I get ’em, that’s why. I have to. I know paperwork’s not my strong point. It’s a miracle I ever made it through college.”

  Donna snorted. “Having a nearly photographic memory didn’t hurt.”

  Caitlin fell silent. She did have an extraordinarily good memory, and it wasn’t always a blessing. There were a few things she wished she could forget. Although she liked her memories of Max Shore’s eyes. Mentally she catalogued all the blues she could think of: lapis lazuli; forget-me-nots; her son’s favorite Braves baseball cap…

  “Hello. Anybody in there?”

  “Hmm? What?” The glittering blue eyes in her memory gave way to reality.

  “Where were you, Caitlin?”

  “Oh, um, sorry, Donna. Just daydreaming.”

  “About who?” Donna teased.

  To her chagrin, Caitlin could feel the flush that crept up her cheeks.

  “Aha!” Donna said with glee. “There is somebody! It’s about time!”

  “No, there isn’t,” Caitlin protested.

  “Who is he?”

  “No one. I mean, I only just met—” Caitlin broke off abruptly, realizing that she’d given herself away. Now Donna would never give up. “C’mon, Donna. Just let it drop, okay?”

  “No way,” Donna stated. “You going to tell me or what?”

  “There’s nothing to tell. Really.” She protested weakly, but Caitlin knew Donna was going to worry this the rest of the night like a terrier with a bone.

  “I repeat. Who is he?”

  Caitlin gave up. “His name is Max Shore,” she said reluctantly. “He’s the owner of the consulting firm I called.”

  “And?” Donna leaned forward, her eyes gleaming.

  “And nothing.”

  “Did he ask you out?”

  “No. And if he did, I wouldn’t go. You know I don’t date much.” Caitlin stood and walked over to the window, looking out at the night, but seeing only old images in her mind.

  “Yeah, and the guys you do date could all qualify for the Caspar Milquetoast of the Year Award. You haven’t been out with an honest-to-God sexy man in years. How about this Max Shore? Is he sexy?”

  Caitlin let out a heartfelt “Yes. A little stuffy, but definitely sexy.” Memories teased her—of Max’s broad shoulders, thick, soft-looking hair, long legs—and always those warm, enigmatic, intriguing blue eyes.

  “Then go for it, why don’t you?”

  With an effort Caitlin snapped her attention back to Donna. “I can’t.” She lifted troubled eyes to her friend. “Donna, you know exactly what I’ve been through. It’s taken me all of these past seven years to put my life back together.”

  “But you did. That’s what counts,” Donna said gently.

  “Oh, I did all right. But there are times I feel as if I’m held together with paper clips and rubber bands. I’m scared to do anything to rock the boat.”

  Donna was silent for a moment, then said, “I know you’re scared. But what happened to you happened a long time ago and you can’t let it color the rest of your life. Find a man—a real man. Get married. Settle down. Or don’t settle down, have a passionate affair. Whatever you do, you’ve got to let go of the past.”

  “I don’t know if I can.” Caitlin’s voice was the barest whisper. “Oh, Donna, I don’t know if I can.”

  Two

  * * *

  Maximillian Shore will be at the greenhouse today, Caitlin thought the minute she awakened. She still wasn’t sure if she liked the idea. Nonetheless, after she scurried Jordan out the door to the waiting school bus, she took extra care dressing for work.

  Instead of the usual faded jeans and T-shirt, she wore newer black denims and a spring-green blouse. She harnessed her unruly shoulder-length blond curls into a topknot, but despite all her efforts, dozens of little tendrils escaped to spiral softly about her face. She even brushed a light coat of mascara over her lashes. Here goes nothing, she thought as she grabbed her purse and headed to her van.

  As luck would have it, unusually slow traffic made Caitlin fifteen minutes late, and she saw Max already standing by the greenhouse door when she pulled into the parking lot. She should have known that an efficiency expert would not only be on time, but would be looking at his watch. He appeared elegant—and, again, too conventional—in another suit and tie. Perhaps she should tell him that there was no air-conditioning in the greenhouse and by midafternoon, with the late April sun streaming in, it could get pretty warm.

  “You’re late,” Max said flatly.

  Caitlin bit back the apology she’d been ready to offer. On second thought, she wouldn’t tell him about the heat. Let him cook in his dull little suit. She gave a saccharine smile. “Good morning to you too, Mr. Shore.”

  “The first thing I want to do this morning is go over your standard office procedure with you,” Max said as soon as they walked inside the building.

  “Well,” Caitlin retorted mildly, “the first thing I’m going to do is water the back third of the greenhouse. Perhaps you could familiarize yourself with my office while you’re waiting.”

  Max sighed. “Fine. Then—”

  “Then I’m going to water the middle third. Then I’m going to water the front third.”

  “Can any of that wait?”

  “No, it can’t. Plants wilt. People don’t.” With that parting shot, she spun on her heels and walked to the back of the building.

  Max frowned as he watched her. Damn! Did he have to start off this morning by snapping at her? He didn’t know why he’d done it. One minute he’d been thinking how good she looked; the next minute a curt “You’re late!” popped out of his mouth. Maybe some ancient deep-rooted sense of male self-preservation had caused it, he thought ruefully. Though she hadn’t exactly been the soul of graciousness either. She’d been ta
rt, even testy.

  Was this the same woman who’d been haunting his dreams? Max couldn’t understand it. He had always preferred his women soft and compliant and classy. So what attracted him to this sarcastic pint-sized Attila the Hun who dressed like a teenage refugee? Hell, she was probably married. He frowned at the thought. She wore no ring, he’d noticed, but then, she was also cussedly independent, perhaps she simply chose not to. Max frowned again and headed to the office. This day wasn’t turning out at all as he’d hoped.

  When he opened the office door, the same mess still waited, with the addition of another couple of layers of mail. He sure had his work cut out for him. Max shook his head, wondering if Caitlin ever filed anything. When he decided to check the file cabinet, he saw the largest cat he’d ever seen lounging on top of it.

  “Hello, kitty.” Max reached out a friendly hand, only to draw it back when the cat met him with an ill-tempered growl. “Sorry.” Max decided to start with the desk instead.

  Caitlin turned on the automatic watering system, then went down the rows and double-checked that every plant was hooked up properly. She’d followed this routine every day for months, ever since she had gotten the siphon system, but today her thoughts weren’t with her work. They were in her office with Maximillian Shore. At least Max had decided to be grumpy this morning. It would be much easier to keep her distance. And Lord knew she had to.

  She couldn’t avoid him forever, however tempting the idea. She had to go into that office sometime. It was a shame it wasn’t any bigger. The thought of being closed up in that tiny space with Max unnerved her. And, she reluctantly admitted, excited her. He reeked of masculinity and made her feel soft and womanly and vulnerable in response. Only she didn’t want to feel vulnerable. Not ever again.

  After an hour Caitlin entered the dreary office and paused in shock. Max had miraculously cleared off the top of the desk. Three days worth of mail had even been opened and sorted—bills, invoices, and purchase agreements were in separate stacks. “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  He shrugged well-muscled shoulders. “It’ll take another few days to get things together. But getting anything organized is the easy part. Keeping it organized is the hard part. That’s what I’m here to do. Together we’ll come up with a workable system. Right now I’d like to mention just a few things. If you have the time, that is.” His voice was carefully neutral.

  Caitlin squirmed a little. She had been touchy all morning. It wasn’t his fault that he put her on edge. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I should have told you the other day that mornings are pretty hectic around here. I have plants to water, and they can’t wait. Friday mornings are even busier because I have calls to make and orders to get together to be shipped on Mondays. Today’s even worse than usual because Martha’s been out sick all week.” She smiled.

  From Attila the Hun to an angel, and all it took was that smile. He could spend the rest of his life watching that smile. Whoa! Where’d that idea come from? Max hurriedly reined in his wandering mind. “I, ah, made a list of some items you’ll need to get your office in order. I usually deal with an office equipment warehouse across town, but if you know someone else who can give you a better price, go ahead.”

  “Just what kind of equipment are we talking about?” Caitlin said warily as she mentally added up the balance in the company checking account.

  Max took out a small notebook from his shirt pocket and began reading. “One four-drawer file cabinet, a decent calculator, a stapler, blue and red pens—” Max glanced up. “Do you realize you have only one pen, and a green one at that?”

  “I like green,” Caitlin muttered. “Go on. What else?”

  “Legal pads, manila file folders, a Rolodex, a proper ledger book—”

  “Anything else?” Caitlin interrupted.

  “Just one more thing. I’d highly recommend a computer.”

  “A computer?” Absolutely not! It wasn’t just the expense. Caitlin hated machines, even cars. She and her van had an uneasy agreement. As long as it got her where she wanted to go, she didn’t junk it. She didn’t have any kind of an agreement with computers. She hated them and they hated her. With horrified fascination, Caitlin listened as Max began to wax positively lyrical about computers.

  “… And they can streamline your bookkeeping system and invoicing methods. They can even handle payroll.”

  “No need for that,” Caitlin said. “There are just three other employees.”

  Max went on as if he hadn’t heard. “… And they can keep a running inventory.”

  “No computer.”

  “Look, I know it’s a pretty big initial investment, but it’s worth it. Even a small personal computer can save hundreds of man-hours.”

  “No computer.”

  “But they’re efficient and they will eliminate the possibility of human error.”

  “I like human error. What I don’t like is computer error.” Caitlin was emphatic.

  She should have known that an efficiency expert would be gung-ho on computers. She had promised Arnie that she’d take the consultant’s advice, but she’d fight Max fang and claw over this. She’d better make her position clear right now, because heaven help her if Max mentioned it to Arnie. Arnie would go for it all the way. “Absolutely no computer, Mr. Shore. Zip, zero, zilch.”

  “Okay, okay. Don’t get so hot about it.”

  “I’m not hot about it!” Caitlin found herself nearly shouting in response. She paused in shock. She hadn’t shouted in years. She’d always kept her emotions on an even keel, preferring not to feel anything too intensely. But there was something about Max Shore that set her teeth on edge. Actually, it set her whole body on edge.

  Feeling uncomfortable, Caitlin turned away and began stroking the cat still lying across the file cabinet. The cat purred, a loud deep rumble of pleasure, and rolled on his back.

  “I’ll be damned!” Max said softly and, when Caitlin lifted puzzled eyes to his, continued. “All that cat has done this morning is growl and hiss at me.”

  “Charlemagne? He wouldn’t hurt a flea.”

  “Not a flea, maybe, but I’ll bet he can lick his weight in pit bulls,” Max muttered, then felt a little ridiculous. The cat looked soft and boneless as he lay sprawled on his back, getting his tummy rubbed. He reached out his hand, but no sooner had he touched the cat’s head than the cat grabbed Max’s hand with his claws and growled, daring Max to trespass farther.

  Caitlin murmured, “Gee. All these years I’ve never known he was an attack cat.”

  “Well, now you know. Would you mind calling him off?”

  “He’d only ignore me. Charlemagne’s pretty much a law unto himself.” Caitlin felt a smug satisfaction. Max was well and truly caught. As long as he didn’t move his hand, Charlemagne was content merely to hold it. Whenever Max tried to move his fingers, the cat renewed his attack.

  “So what do I do now? Stand here all day waiting until this cat gets tired?”

  He could stand there all day, she thought suddenly, and she wouldn’t mind a bit. He had a nice back—muscular without being bumpy, and if she were the type of woman to notice a man’s derriere, then she’d certainly notice the way the fabric of his trousers pulled across his tight bottom. However, she wasn’t the type.

  She cleared her throat. “Not all day, but if you’d wait just a minute …” Caitlin tore a long strip of paper from the notepad on the desk and wiggled that in front of Charlemagne. The cat’s ears stood at attention and his tail twitched before he reached out a paw to bat at the paper. Max stole the opportunity to jerk his hand away and glanced down at it. “See? He left me scarred.”

  Without thinking, Caitlin reached over and gently took his hand to look at the barely visible pinpricks. “They’re hardly noticeable at all,” she said, her fingertips brushing over his skin. “Next time …”

  Her voice died as Max’s hand wrapped around hers, leaving it warm and tingling. Caitlin looked up then, her brown eyes meeting his blue on
es. His fingers threaded through hers when her tongue slipped out to moisten her lips. The sudden hunger that flared in the depths of his gaze caught her by surprise. She jerked loose and took a step back.

  Max noticed the anxious expression on Caitlin’s face. For a moment she had looked as lost and as scared as a child who couldn’t find her mother. What had frightened her? Was it him? Or the sudden desire that had loomed between them? Whatever the cause, the fear in her eyes made Max want to enfold her in his arms and promise her she’d always be safe.

  Caitlin spun away and busily flipped through a stack of invoices on the desk. Perhaps it would be best to ignore the whole thing, she thought. “I know you want to run down office procedures with me this morning, but would it be okay if we did that this afternoon? I have a few calls to make right now, and K.C. will be here after lunch to look after the place.”

  “That would be fine. If you could move that cat, I’ll even look at reorganizing the filing system.” Max pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped a thin film of sweat from his forehead. “Is it always this warm in here?”

  “Not always.” Caitlin gave a small smile. “Usually it’s worse.”

  “Worse?”

  “Worse. I do have a ventilation system out in the greenhouse that keeps the temperature from getting above ninety, but it doesn’t help much in here.”

  “You’re telling me,” Max grumbled as he loosened his necktie.

  Caitlin watched, captivated, as Max proceeded to unbutton his shirt-sleeves and roll up the cuffs, revealing forearms that were tanned and well-muscled. When he began on the top buttons of his shirt, she mumbled, “I’m going to put on the fans,” then turned to leave.

  “Ah, before you go, would you mind taking the cat with you?”

  “It probably won’t help much.” Caitlin hoisted the cat in her arms, the huge beast dangling as limply as overcooked spaghetti. “He can open the office door by himself.”

  “Does he live in the greenhouse?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes he follows me out to the van when I’m ready to leave. That’s when I know he wants to go home with me. In other words, he decides where he wants to be.” Caitlin switched the heavy animal to her other arm, carefully avoiding meeting Max’s eyes.