by Bonnie Pega
“That’s right. But last night I realized that we can go on being—um—”
“Lovers?” Max supplied.
“Yeah.”
“Suppose I don’t want that?” He sounded brittle. “Suppose I want you not only in my bed, but in my life for good, Caitie?”
“Max, I don’t want a commitment right now. I’m not ready for it. But I’d still like to be with you.”
Max got to his feet. “I see. I’m good enough to go to bed with, but not good enough to share the rest of your life with?”
Caitlin stood too. “Max, that’s not what I mean.”
“Isn’t it? It’s just one more way you’re pushing me away.”
“No, I’m not—”
Max looked bitterly weary. “Caitlin, I’m in love with a warm, beautiful woman. I want to make a life with her. And her son, whom I love as much as if he were my own. But she keeps pushing me away. I keep coming back for more, but now I’m tired. Now I feel like I’m just spinning my wheels, going nowhere except maybe backward.”
He looked at her for several moments. “I’m thirty-four years old, Caitlin, and I want a home and a family with a woman who loves me as much as I love her. Do you know you’ve never even said those words to me?”
“Max—” Caitlin stopped. She didn’t know what to tell him. “Max …”
“Don’t say anything, Caitlin. Just think about it. If you decide you’re ready for a real relationship, let me know.” He sighed heavily. “But right now I’m tired, Caitlin. When it was just the past intruding, well, that I could deal with. But now it’s you. And I can’t fight you.” With that Max left, quietly pulling the door shut behind him.
Eleven
* * *
It had been a week since Caitlin had seen Max. She’d stopped telling herself it was better this way. She no longer believed it anyhow.
At first, when she hadn’t been able to sleep, feeling restless and unsettled, she’d tried to convince herself she was just too wound up. It wasn’t that she missed Max. When sleep did come, it came with dreams of Max holding her, kissing her, touching her. The dreams were so vivid she could feel Max’s strong arms around her, see the golden glints in his thick brown hair and his blue, blue eyes. Were they Caribbean blue, royal blue, periwinkle? She could hear the rough timbre of his laughter, and it made her want to laugh back, made her feel safe and warm. It was a laugh she could listen to for the rest of her life.
When she awoke, her whole body would ache with loneliness and she would turn to burrow into Max’s embrace, but he was never there. She would then spend the rest of the day in a foul mood, snapping at everyone and muttering impatiently at work. Even Martha had come to wear a look of relief on her face when it was time to close up the greenhouse.
Caitlin had thought all along that a relationship between her and Max was impossible. He was so conservative, so neat, such a junk-food addict. He’d drive her crazy, and in no time have Jordan going to school in pinstripe suits and eating cheeseburgers. He was also stubborn and opinionated, the kind of man who would keep her from being strong, independent.
But as time passed, she found she couldn’t eat and her sour disposition never improved. Each day seemed longer and lonelier and more pointless than the one before. The only thing that got better was Jordan’s chicken pox, not that it made him easier to get along with. Instead, he became more cranky and grumbled why Max didn’t come by anymore, especially after each of the two times Max called to check up on him.
No, things were definitely not any better now that Max was out of their lives, Caitlin thought as she sat at her desk in the office. She was staring out the small window, wistfully watching the finches fight over the thistle seeds she’d just put out.
Her mind didn’t register the birds though. Instead, she saw Max—the way his hair tousled despite his efforts to keep it groomed, the gentle smile on his face when he spoke to Jordan, that little glint in his eye when he teased her. She’d give anything to see that glint now.
Her thoughts were so vivid that she could have sworn she smelled Max—that spicy fragrance that seemed uniquely him. And then she realized it was him. She spun around.
Was it her imagination or did he look thinner? Were those dark circles beneath his eyes? Still, despite all that, he looked good. Better than good. Wonderful. Even in his conservative dark suit and maroon tie. “Max …”
He gave a reserved nod. “Caitlin.”
“How are you?” Brilliant, she thought. What sparkling conversation.
“Fine. I understand from Jordan that he’s better.” His tone of voice was polite but stiff.
“Much. He’s back at school today and is even going camping with Rick and Patrick this weekend.”
“That’s nice,” he said. He pulled a folder out of his briefcase. “Here’s a copy of the contract you signed.”
Caitlin wanted to cry. The easy camaraderie was gone. Not even a smile broke the bleak formality of his expression.
“Max,” Caitlin called out as he turned to go.
He turned back and stood, waiting, as she fumbled for words. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. She knew only that she couldn’t let him walk away just yet. “Your nephews, um, did they get chicken pox from Jordie?”
“No, they seem to be fine.”
“I’m sure your sister wasn’t happy at the prospect though.”
“She wasn’t particularly upset. Said she’d rather have them get it over with now as opposed to later.”
“Oh, well, that’s good.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Max said, looking pointedly at his watch, “I have another appointment to get to.”
“Oh. Of course. Um, thank you for dropping this by.” She stood to walk him to the door.
“I’ll see myself out.” Max turned and left, his footsteps crunching on the gravel. They sounded more steady than he felt, he thought. Once in his car, he let out the breath he’d been holding, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He’d hoped, he’d prayed, but apparently she still didn’t want him.
His fingers clenched the steering wheel and his eyes burned. Oh, God, wasn’t there some way he could make her love him? But someone either loved you or she didn’t. And she didn’t. That ate at him like acid. Before long there’d be nothing left inside, he thought. He’d be just a shell. He felt as if he were leaving his heart behind as he drove away.
Caitlin stared at the door long after he’d left. She felt something on her cheek and reached up to brush it away, surprised to find it was a tear. It was followed by another, then another. Soon her face was wet and her shoulders shook with her sobs. She felt so empty inside, as if she’d never be full again.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Caitlin jumped and turned around to find Donna looking at her in concern. She hastily wiped the tears away. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Bananas! Don’t hand me that. You were crying your heart out.”
“It’s nothing, I told you.”
“It’s Max, isn’t it?”
To Caitlin’s dismay, she felt more tears well up in her eyes. She nodded in resignation. “I guess it is.”
“So what’d you do this time?”
“Me?”
“I’ve known you since kindergarten, Caitlin. Even before Brad, you played it cool and distant—afraid of getting involved. Afterward, it was only worse. It stands to reason that you’ve tried to scare Max off.”
“I think I’ve succeeded.” Caitlin’s voice was muffled. “He brought some papers by this afternoon and he was so formal, so cold.” She propped her elbows on the desk and leaned her forehead on her hands. “Oh, Donna. I’ve really made a mess of it this time, and I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to be strong.”
“Strong? What’re you talking about?”
Caitlin sighed. “I’ve been leaning on other people so long now—you and Rick, Dr. Atlee, Martha—that I felt I should take care of things myself, not lean on anybody else. And Max—”
“I th
ink I see,” Donna interrupted. “Caitlin, being strong doesn’t always mean dealing with everything by yourself. It also means realizing when you need someone and not being afraid to ask for help—or for love. But for what it’s worth, I doubt you’ve lost Max. If he loved you last week, he loves you this week. Love doesn’t die that fast or that easily.”
“Thanks.” Caitlin sat up, already feeling better. “I still don’t know what to do though.”
Donna grinned. “Hey, being strong also means going after what you want. So, go get him, tiger.”
Caitlin smiled back and reached for the phone. “I think I’ll do just that.” As Donna waved good-bye, Caitlin punched in the number to Max’s office. Unfortunately, all she got was the answering machine. Sighing, she left her name and number and hung up. Just to be sure, she also called his house and left a message on that answering machine as well.
He hadn’t returned her calls by closing time, so she picked Jordan up from the sitter’s. When they got home she called Max’s number again and left another message. But he still didn’t call. “He probably doesn’t ever want to talk to me again,” she muttered morosely, then brightened. Maybe his appointment had just run long.
When Max hadn’t called by the next morning, however, her spirits were dampened. Nevertheless, she called Martha and told her to go ahead and open up, that she’d be in later. She hopped in her car after seeing Jordan off to school and drove to the nearest shopping mall.
The first thing she did was go to the lingerie shop and look for something sexy. She’d settled on a black lace teddy, when a gold satin nightgown caught her eye. It was rather demure, but it had a mutlticolored dragon embroidered on the front. With a pang she remembered Max and his declaration about fighting her dragons the night they’d first made love. Without another thought she hung the black lace teddy back on the rack.
The second stop Caitlin made was at a men’s casual wear store. She found a pair of stone-washed denims in Max’s size—or maybe in the next smaller size.
By the time she arrived at work, it was nearly eleven. She’d expected Max to have returned her call by then, but he hadn’t. She didn’t know whether to be hurt, angry, or worried. It depended on whether he hadn’t called because he didn’t want to talk to her, or because he was tied up with someone more interesting, or because he’d had an accident and was lying in a hospital somewhere.
Hesitantly, Caitlin placed another call to his office, not sure if she wanted to know the truth or not. Patsy recognized Caitlin’s voice right away. “Oh, hi, Caitlin. I’m sorry, but Max didn’t come in today.”
“His appointment,” Caitlin began. “Did he get held up out of town or something?”
“No, nothing like that. He’s home sick today.”
“Sick?”
Patsy hesitated a moment. “Oh, yes. Really sick. Why, I even took him to the doctor this morning, and he never goes to the doctor, you know. So I knew he was feeling pretty horrible.”
“Oh, dear!” Caitlin exclaimed, her heart sinking. “Is it serious?”
“You do care.”
“Of course I care!”
“Well, Max wasn’t sure.” Patsy paused, then lowered her voice dramatically. “As for your question, I think he’d better be the one to discuss his condition with you.”
“His condition?” Caitlin’s voice squeaked.
“Mmm. Yes. Well, the other line’s ringing. Gotta go. Bye,” Patsy said, then hung up.
Caitlin’s heart pounded and her hands shook as she placed a call to Donna. If she’d ever had any doubts about her feelings for Max, this had dispelled them. “Donna? Can you pick Jordan up from school today and keep him tonight? I just found out Max is terribly ill and—Oh, thank you so much. I’ll call you later.”
She picked up her purse and dashed out of the office to the front door of the greenhouse, calling to Martha over her shoulder. “Martha, I’ve got to go. It’s an emergency. Can you close up?”
“Of course. It’s not Jordan, is it?”
“No, no, it’s not Jordan, but I’m not sure I’ll be in tomorrow either.”
She didn’t get a speeding ticket on the way to Max’s house, but she did get a warning. The rest of the way she barely managed to keep from driving over the limit.
Max’s house looked deserted. The morning paper still lay in the middle of the sidewalk and the shades were all drawn. Caitlin sat in her car for a long while trying to gather her courage. All this talk about being strong and independent and she couldn’t rustle up enough courage to go up and knock on his door.
The thought that Max simply might not want to see her made her stomach hurt. However, when she thought about Max alone and dealing with the effects of some devastating illness, her courage returned. With a decisive nod she grabbed her purse, marched up the sidewalk, and tapped smartly on the door. It opened almost immediately.
“Patsy, I don’t—” Max stopped short. “Caitlin.”
“What’re you doing out of bed? Should you be up? Did the doctor say you could get up?” Caitlin’s eyes roamed hungrily over Max’s dear, familiar features. Funny, he didn’t look sick.
“The doctor didn’t say I had to stay in bed. Although I would have had to get up to answer the door anyway.”
“Oh. You don’t have to stay in bed? Do you have a fever? Did he put you on medication?” As she fired the questions at him, she took Max by the arm and walked into the living room with him. She frowned. “Maybe you’d better sit down.”
“Why?”
“Max, I talked with Patsy.”
“Yeah. So?”
“She told me how sick you were.”
Well, bless her heart, Max thought. Maybe he wouldn’t fire his meddling sister after all. When he saw the frantic, tender concern written all over Caitlin’s face, the ice around his heart began to thaw. Now to make her realize that what she felt for him was every bit as real as the love he felt for her.
“I suddenly feel like I need to lie down,” he said weakly.
“Can you make it upstairs?”
“If you help me.” Max draped an arm over her shoulder, leaning heavily on her as she walked with him upstairs. Guilt stabbed him at the worried look on her face. But he wasn’t lying about the weakness. His legs were shaky at the feel of her body next to his. Besides, he was fighting for his life here. For whatever reason, Caitlin had come to him, and if it was sneaky to fool her this way, then so be it.
As they went into his bedroom, images besieged him—Caitlin in his room, in his bed. Even though he’d lived there for over a year, it seemed as if all his memories of this room came from just the past couple of weeks. When he closed his eyes, he saw Caitlin, her face flushed with shyness, her warm brown eyes glowing with passion, her lips curved in a siren’s smile.
God help me, he thought as hot tendrils of desire coiled in his body. It would take all his self-control to keep from laying her down on the bed and making new memories. He managed not to grab her, but his heart raced and his hands shook with the effort.
“Heavens,” Caitlin exclaimed softly, “you’re trembling!” She pulled down the bedspread and blanket. “Here. You’d better lie down.”
Max sat on the edge of the bed and willed himself not to pull her down on top of him. To keep his hands occupied, he began to unfasten his shirt, though his fingers fumbled clumsily with the buttons.
“Let me,” Caitlin urged, her hands moving to the front of his shirt.
Max stifled a groan, feeling his self-control slipping out of his grasp. “I’ll finish it,” he said, his voice a strained croak. He unfastened the last two buttons and pulled off the shirt.
Caitlin’s eyes flew to his bare chest. She longed to throw herself on it and cling to him for all she was worth. Her gaze lingered, touching on the cords of muscle, the golden tan, the pink rash. “What?” One hand reached out to brush over it. She knew that rash.
Her eyes threw accusations at Max. “Chicken pox?” At least he had the decency to blush, she thought
as red color suffused his skin.
“Caitlin, I can explain—”
“Here I am, worried sick, and all you have is chicken pox? And you even dragged your sister in on this.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t know she would tell you I was deathly ill or anything. But when you came over, looking so worried, it felt so good, I played along with it.” His voice trailed off. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be, you skunk.” Caitlin turned and walked out of the room.
“Caitlin, wait!” He leapt to his feet and raced down the stairs after her. He saw her head to the front door. “God, Catie, please don’t go. I’m sorry. I—”
She spun around and pursed her lips. “Maximillian Tobias Shore, sit down and shut up.” She pointed a finger at the sofa. Max obeyed, completely taken by surprise. Then his heart sank when she turned back to the door and left.
He heard her car door open and shut. Boy, he’d really blown it this time. She’d never forgive him. He braced himself, waiting for the hum of the engine that would take her away. He closed his eyes and dropped his head in his hands.
The front door opened and Max looked up with a jerk. A blur of heavy blue fabric hit him in the face. “Wha—” Max brushed the material aside. “Caitlin? I thought you’d gone.”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, you rat.”
“I’m not?” He could feel a silly grin spread over his face.
“And wipe that silly grin off your face!” He tried to pull the corners of his mouth down, but couldn’t. She could stand there and yell at him all day if she wanted, even all week. Hell, she could yell at him the rest of her life.
“You owe me for this, Max Shore.”
“Anything, sweetheart. Anything at all.”
“Good. Since you offered, put on those jeans.”
“What jeans?” He couldn’t look away from the sparkle in her eyes.
“The ones in your lap, you sneak.”
“Oh, those.” His eyes narrowed as he looked down at them. “I don’t usually wear jeans.”
