Charlotte didn’t look amused.
She looked pissed off, her full lips pressed together, her eyes shooting daggers. “It’s not funny, Max.”
“I don’t think I said it was,” he responded as he followed her into the school cafeteria. Four round tables had been set up and covered with blue tablecloths. Yellow vases filled with blue carnations stood in the middle of each one. Blue and yellow were the Apple Valley Panthers school colors, and someone had apparently wanted everyone to know it.
A long table stood at the back of the room, empty but for the large tray of cookies Charlotte had already carried in. She lifted it, gestured with her chin. “Can you take the tablecloth out of the box and spread it out on the table? If not, just set the box on one of the tables, and I’ll handle it.”
“I just corralled twenty head of escaped cattle, Charlotte. I think I can handle a tablecloth,” he responded.
He set the stuff down on one of the round tables and hunted through the box until he found the tablecloth. It was yellow. Apparently Charlotte had gotten the memo about the theme. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to have gotten the memo about the table size. No matter how much he stretched and maneuvered the fabric, it wouldn’t cover the entire table.
“Shit,” Charlotte said so softly he wasn’t sure if she’d actually cussed or if he was just hearing an echo of his thoughts.
“The table is too big.” She sighed, smoothing her hand over the yellow cloth.
“Or the tablecloth is too small,” he said, and was rewarded with a hot glare.
“The PTA president gave me the measurements. I made sure the tablecloth would fit. That”—she pointed at the tablecloth—“does not fit. Not only am I running late, but I don’t have what I need. I’m going to look like an idiot.” Her voice wobbled, and he thought there might be tears in her eyes.
He hated to see women crying. As much of a loser as his mother had been, it had always torn him up to listen to her sob after her latest conquest left for greener pastures.
“Don’t cry, Charlotte,” he said, because if she cried, he was going to have to find a way to solve the problem. He really wasn’t in the mood to search the cafeteria for the correct size table or a bigger tablecloth.
“I’m not.” Charlotte rubbed the back of her neck and blinked rapidly, doing everything in her power to not let the tears fall.
No way was she going to break down in front of Max.
“Okay,” he agreed easily, but he looked irritated, his brows pulled low over sky-blue eyes. His hair was ruffled from the cow wrangling he said he’d been doing, his uniform wrinkled and stained. His hands were clean though, his tie hanging loose around his neck. Even messy and unkempt, he looked better than any man had a right to.
Not the time to be noticing.
She had a table to set up and about a minute and a half to do it.
“Here,” Max said, grabbing the cloth and folding it into thirds. He spread it down the center of the table, making it into a runner.
“We’ll just stick this here”—he plopped the teapot and flowers into the center of the cloth—“and these here.” He put a tray of cookies on either side, set a pile of napkins on the left end of the table and the dark blue plates she’d chosen on the right.
It actually looked . . . nice. Planned even. As if she’d intended all along to set the table that way.
“Good to go,” he announced as the cafeteria door opened and Wanda Mallory stuck her head in, her bleached blond hair teased to within an inch of its life.
“How is it going, Charlotte? The teachers are lining up outside. We did say four-thirty.” Wanda smiled, but she had snake eyes—cold and unwavering.
Brett eyes.
Charlotte shivered and stepped away from the table. “We just finished.”
“Wonderful! It looks great.” Her gaze shifted and landed on Max. A single mother with three kids, she had a reputation. Not a very good one, either. According to people who said they knew her, Wanda collected men like other women collected shoes.
It wasn’t Charlotte’s business, but Wanda was looking at Max as if she were starving and he was a food-laden buffet.
“Hi, Max!” She gushed, rushing forward and taking both his hands in hers. “What a nice surprise! Were you here to see me? I called you a couple of times after our date—”
“I’m here with Charlotte,” he said.
“Oh. I see.”
“I don’t think you do,” Charlotte began. Max had used her at the wedding. She wasn’t going to let him do it again. If she did, she’d end up with half the town thinking she was actually dating the man. “We’re not—”
“Did you need to collect a payment or anything, Charlotte?” Max cut her off, his hand settling on her lower back. She felt his palm, the pad of every finger, felt the warmth of his hand seep straight through her shirt and zip right up her spine. It lodged in her head and made thinking nearly impossible.
Which was too bad, because Max and Wanda were both staring at her like they expected an answer.
“Because I’m still on duty, and I’m sure you have plenty of work to do at home. So if we’re done here, I think we should go,” Max prodded.
“Of course.” Wanda agreed a little too enthusiastically. She handed Charlotte an envelope. “Here’s the other half of the payment and a tip from the PTA. We really appreciate you doing this for us on such short notice.”
“It was no problem.” Charlotte finally managed to put together a coherent sentence. “If you pack the teapot and tablecloth in the box and leave it in the office, I’ll pick them up tomorrow.”
“No need for that. I’ll be happy to drop it off on my way home.”
“I wouldn’t want to put you out, Wanda.” And she really didn’t want her stopping by, because dropping off the teapot and tablecloth weren’t going to be the only thing on Wanda’s agenda. She probably planned to pick Charlotte’s brains, find out what was going on between her and Max.
Which would be exactly nothing and would continue to be that way. Forever.
“You won’t be. I live right around the corner. Well, not quite that close, but what’s a short drive between friends? I have to go get the teachers. They’re going to love these cookies! See you later!” She waved and hurried back out into the hall.
“Wow!” Max murmured as he urged her outside.
“Wow what?”
“Just . . . wow. That woman is a piece of work.” He led her to his police cruiser.
“A piece of work that you dated,” she responded, and regretted it immediately.
“We went on one date a year ago.”
“No need to explain.”
“I’m not explaining. Just stating a fact.” He opened the passenger side door and pulled out a pile of what looked to be little-girl clothes. “I brought these for Zuzu. I figured she probably needed something besides pajamas to wear.”
It was a little late in the day to be worried about that, but it was kind of sweet that he’d gone to the trouble. “We had her all over town in those pajamas. Don’t be surprised if you get a few phone calls about it.”
“Phone calls? I have about ten tons of girl stuff in my office at work.” He grinned and snagged a rag doll from the passenger seat. “The good women of Apple Valley think I’m pretty inept as a babysitter.”
“They’re just trying to help.”
“Help a man who they think doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
“Do you?”
“Probably not. I’ve been thinking about tracking down Zuzu’s mother. It’s not right that the kid is staying with a stranger.”
“So why don’t you do it?” She put the pile of clothes in the back of the station wagon and took the doll. It had a sweet face with stitched blue eyes and a cute little pink dress.
“I guess I worry about who she’ll go to next.” He glanced at the car. “I’m not the best choice, but I’m not the worst either. At least I’ll make sure she eats, bathes, and stays safe.”
“How long is she going to be with you?”
“Until Morgan comes back or until I decide to bring Zuzu to her. Whichever comes first.” He looked a little confused and a lot annoyed. She almost felt sorry for him.
Maybe she did feel sorry for him.
He could have said no, sent his ex away with Zuzu, and let whatever happened happen. He hadn’t, and she couldn’t fault him for that or for caring about a child. “Have you heard from Morgan since she left town?”
“No. I’m hoping she’ll call tonight.”
If she didn’t, Charlotte would question her parenting skills. After all, what mother dropped her daughter off with a man she hadn’t seen in years and didn’t check in? Charlotte would have been calling every hour, making sure things were going okay.
Then again, Charlotte wouldn’t have left Zuzu with Max or anyone else.
“What if she doesn’t?” she asked, cold wind spearing through her T-shirt. She’d been in such a hurry, she hadn’t grabbed her coat. A mistake that she was regretting more with every passing moment. She rubbed her arms and clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. The station wagon was still running. With any luck, Zim had the heat turned up high.
“You’re freezing.” Max shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it over her shoulders. It smelled like musky cologne and felt as warm as his hand had.
She wanted to snuggle into it, but that seemed like a really bad idea.
“Now you’re going to be cold.” She tried to shrug out of the jacket, but he tugged it closed, holding the edges of the collar together.
“I’ve been in the frigid Northwest for long enough to get acclimated to the weather.” His knuckles brushed her jaw as he released his hold. “Before I go, I need something from you.”
“You do?” Her heart fluttered, her stomach flipped.
They were close. So close that she could smell coffee on his breath, feel the heat of his body through her jeans. He had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Bluer than the Montana sky in the summer. A woman could lose herself in those eyes if she let herself.
He nodded slowly, his gaze dipping to her lips. “A business card,” he said.
It took about thirty seconds too long for the words to register. When they did, she stepped back, took a deep breath of cold air. “You want baked goods for something?”
“I want to be able to check in while you have Zuzu. I wanted to call earlier and realized that I didn’t have your number.”
“Oh. Right.” She dug into her purse and pulled out a business card. “Here you go.”
“Thanks. I should be off the clock by eleven.” He slipped the card into his pocket. “If that’s not going to work for you, I can ask Ida to take care of Zuzu until I get home.”
“That’s okay. I’ll keep her until your shift ends.” The words slipped out before she realized that she was going to say them.
What she should have said, what she needed to say was Yes, please ask Ida.
Max smiled, flashing straight white teeth.
Of course.
He couldn’t have crooked teeth. Or be missing a tooth. Or better yet, missing several. He had to have perfect teeth, perfect body, perfect reputation. Aside from his womanizing ways. Those were legendary in Apple Valley.
“You’re a lifesaver, Charlotte,” he said, and she had the odd feeling that he actually meant it. That he wasn’t just saying words to make her happy so that she’d keep helping.
She knew all about guys like that. She’d been married to one for years.
“I don’t have a crib,” she said, because she was beginning to think that Max could be more trouble than Zim and Zuzu combined.
“She slept in a bed last night without a problem.”
“Oh.” So much for using that as an excuse to take back her offer. “You’ll have to wake her up in the middle of the night, though. That will be hard.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” He frowned. “Want to bring her to my place tonight? You can put her in bed there.”
“I . . . don’t know.”
“Her suitcase is there. Her clothes. I didn’t check through it, but she might have some toys.”
“I—”
“Charlotte!” Zim poked his head out the car window, his white hair standing up straight around his head. “Zuzu is awake, and she says she has to use the bathroom.”
“Again? She went right before we left the house.”
“She’s three. How big is her bladder supposed to be?” Zim griped.
“I have no idea,” Charlotte muttered. “And I don’t want to find out. I’d better get going. I’ll see you later, Max.”
“You want me to take her into the school? I can bring her to the bathroom before I go back on shift,” he offered as she yanked the car door open.
“That’s okay. I can manage.” She unhooked Zuzu’s straps and lifted her from the seat.
“What’s that?” Zuzu poked at the doll Charlotte was still holding.
“A doll.”
“For me?”
“Yes.” She handed Zuzu the doll. “Max brought it for you.”
“I brought a coat, too,” Max cut in, holding out a little pink coat that looked like it was from the 1950s.
“No coat!” Zuzu shook her head, her black curls flying wildly.
“Yes coat,” Max insisted.
“She’s going to have an accident while you sit around discussing the thing,” Zim broke in.
“I’ll put the coat on her later.” Charlotte took the coat. “Thanks, Max.”
She ran for the delivery door, terrified that Zuzu would prove Zim right.
Chapter Six
No seemed to be Zuzu’s word of the night.
No coat.
No shoes.
No dinner.
No bed.
She looked pretty determined about that one, the pink dress and blue leggings that she’d insisted on changing into when they’d arrived at Max’s house rustling as she ran from the living room into the kitchen.
“No, no, no,” she chanted, ducking under a stainless-steel and Formica table and plopping herself on the floor.
Charlotte was tempted to do the same. Only she wouldn’t plop herself down on the floor. She’d sit on the old love seat, munch on the cookies she’d packed, and open the romance novel she’d snagged from the box under her bed. Who cared if the little she-devil was still awake when Max returned? He could deal with putting her to bed and getting her to sleep.
Charlotte would just sit and read and eat cookies and pretend that Zuzu wasn’t her responsibility.
Only she was, and Charlotte couldn’t stomach the idea of not doing the best she could for the little girl. She’d let her stay up until nine-thirty, but it was time for bed. And, doggone it, the kid was going.
She crawled under the table, snagging the back of Zuzu’s dress before she could escape. “Hold on, girlfriend. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I’m finding Mommy,” Zuzu said, her big blue eyes wet with tears.
All Charlotte’s frustration seeped away as she looked into the little girl’s face. “Max is going to find her, but right now you have to go to bed.”
“I need to say good night to my mommy,” Zuzu insisted, sticking her thumb in her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks. Charlotte figured that she’d be crying too if she’d been dropped off in a strange town, left with strange people, and not told when she would see her mother again. For all Zuzu knew, her mother was gone for good.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said gently, pulling Zuzu into her lap and pressing the little girl’s head to her shoulder. Little arms wrapped around her neck, and Zuzu’s silky hair brushed her jaw. Charlotte’s heart thumped loudly in acknowledgment. God, she’d wanted this. She’d wanted to mother a child so badly, had begged for years to be allowed just one kid. There’d been a few times when she’d contemplated going off the pill and lying to Brett about it. A few times when she’d thought that he was away so much, he wouldn’t
have noticed a pregnancy or a child.
She’d hadn’t given in to temptation, because she hadn’t wanted to bring an unwanted child into the world. She knew how that felt. Knew exactly what it was like to be the one who wasn’t wanted. She’d lived the first ten years of her life with a father who hated her and a mother who refused to acknowledge it.
Her throat felt thick with tears, her eyes hot and gritty. She’d made it through the twenty-seventh without crying, but she wasn’t sure she was going to make it through the twenty-eighth.
Yes, you are! Because you are not three, and you are perfectly capable of controlling yourself.
Her brain had a lot more faith in her ability to hold the tears back than her heart did. It ached and throbbed as she scooted out from under the table, Zuzu still in her arms.
“I really am sorry, Zuzu,” she murmured. “I don’t know how to get in touch with your mommy. If I had her phone number, we could call her, but—”
“I know!” Zuzu’s head popped up, her face so close to Charlotte’s that their noses almost touched.
“Know what?”
“Look!” Zuzu grabbed her hand and led her down a narrow hallway, the old wooden floor creaking under their feet. The apartment wasn’t fancy or posh. The walls were bare, the furniture old but functional. Charlotte didn’t know what she’d expected from Max’s place, but it hadn’t been the plain and simple and obviously outdated decor.
Seriously? The guy never had a hair out of place, and up until he’d arrived at the school fresh from cow wrangling, she’d never seen a wrinkle in his clothes. He drove a beautifully restored vintage Corvette for God’s sake, washed and polished every weekend if rumors were to be believed. Shouldn’t his apartment reflect that? Maybe be decorated with fancy furniture and stainless-steel appliances.
Zuzu opened one of three closed doors and dragged Charlotte into a bedroom. Dark furniture with heavy lines took up most of the space. A small throw rug lay on the floor at the end of a huge bed. There was a closet on one wall, a window on another, a dresser on the third. No photographs. No pictures. Nothing personal. Still, Charlotte was certain the room was Max’s.
The Cottage on the Corner Page 8
