An Accidental Mom

by Loree Lough

  As the brass-doored elevator hissed shut, Max jutted out his chin and folded his hands behind his back. “It’ll do.”

  If he could be that casual about opulence like this, what must his home look like!

  “If we get out of Wilkes’s early enough, maybe I’ll drive you over to my house—see what you think of the place.”

  In the months since his return to Texas, Lily had learned he’d been blessed with many gifts. ’Til now, she hadn’t realized mind reading was one of them.

  But wait… Why would he care what she thought of his house—unless he planned to ask her to share it with him?

  He’d lived there with his wife. In fact, Melissa had died at that address. Lily seemed to be moving farther and farther from her “rose-covered cottage” dream….

  “Have I told you that you look gorgeous tonight?”

  Lily blushed. “Only about a dozen times.”

  “Yep,” he said in his thickest Texas drawl. “Y’clean up purty good…fer a li’l farm girl.”

  Wink or no wink, his teasing comment made Lily bristle. No one had ever called her a farm girl, not even in jest. She’d been born and bred a rancher’s daughter, and grew up to be proud of it!

  “It’s pretty brisk out there,” he said once the elevator reached the lobby. “Why don’t you wait here while I bring my car around?”

  “Your car?”

  He chuckled. “Let me guess…you thought because of the fancy-schmancy office, I have a chauffeured limousine waiting at the curb?” An out-and-out laugh this time. “Sweetheart, you think far too highly of me!”

  Lily hid her frustration behind a pleasant smile. But while he was out getting the car, she couldn’t help but think he was a different Max out here. “I mean, really…‘sweetheart’?”

  “What’s that, ma’am?” the doorman said.

  “Don’t mind me,” she told him with an exaggerated southern accent. “I’m just a crazy little farmer from Texas who doesn’t know what to make of the tall buildings y’all have out here!”

  The man tipped his black-billed hat and went back to standing by the door.

  He probably believes you, she thought.

  Before she knew it, the huge thick-glass door swung open. “Your ride is here, ma’am,” said the uniformed gent.

  “Why, thank y’all,” she said, smiling her biggest, brightest smile. “Y’all just have the nicest manners ’roun’ these parts. Wait ’til I git home an’ tell mah daddy.” She leaned close to whisper, “Here he was, thinkin’ all you big-city folk were mean an’ nasty. Ain’t he gonna be surprised!”

  Max opened the passenger door of a low-slung silver convertible. The doorman handed Lily off as if he were only too glad to be getting rid of her. Not that she blamed him. It hadn’t been fair to make him pay for Max’s remark.

  She saw Max tuck paper money into his gloved hand and hoped it had been a generous tip. The man earned it tonight, she thought, grinning slightly.

  Lily continued with the overdone drawl. “This is a right-fine car you’ve got yourself here, if I do say so myself.”

  He cut her a quick, puzzled glance. “Uh…thanks.”

  “Bet this baby ain’t no gas guzzler. Bet she parks like a dream, too, don’t she?”

  Max braked at a red light. “Lily, what…?” His confused expression smoothed to one of comprehension. “Okay, I get it. You took offense at that ‘farm girl’ reference, didn’t you?”

  She stiffened. “Of course not. Don’t be silly.”

  “Seems to me you’re the one being silly. You should know I’d never say anything to deliberately hurt your feelings or insult you. If I did, I’m sorry.”

  Lily felt like a selfish, spoiled brat. She sighed. “Let’s just blame it on the long trip. I really hate to fly these days.”

  He patted her hand. “Okay…”

  He’d left his sentence unfinished. Curiosity ate at her until she said, “Okay what?”

  “Okay, Silly Lily.”

  She had to hand it to him. Max sure knew how to calm a tense moment. But then, he’d had four years of practice, thanks to Nate. The knowledge didn’t do much to erase her mind-set.

  He fiddled with the radio dials, stuffed a couple of CDs into the changer, adjusted the knobs on the dash. It wasn’t until Max used his coat sleeve to dust the top of the steering column that Lily thought he was taking tidiness a bit too far.

  Yes, he was definitely different out here. In Amarillo, he drove with the windows down and didn’t even seem to notice how much dust and grit accumulated on the car’s interior! But then, Georgia’s old boat probably hadn’t cost one-tenth what Max had paid for this piece of machinery. And obviously, he was very pleased and proud of his purchase.

  It was a nice car, to be sure. But really, Lily thought as he used his sleeve again, this time to buff the steering wheel, it’s a car!

  He pulled into a driveway, put the sports car into “park” and tooted the horn.

  “Sounds like a roadrunner,” she teased.

  “Which is precisely why I bought it,” he shot back, grinning. “Reminds me of home.”

  He climbed out of the car and walked around to the passenger side as a tall, leggy blonde sashayed toward them.

  Chapter Eleven

  She had the walk of a runway model, the wave of a British royal. Max was out of the car in a heartbeat, taking her elbow and escorting her to the passenger door. This was the partner Max had agreed to drive to the banquet? Lily’s heart all but ceased beating.

  “Lily London, this is Susan Fisher. Lily and I go way back.”

  “So you said on the phone…an old Texas chum.” She laughed.

  “I hate to make you stand in the cold, Lil,” Max said, “but would you mind, just long enough for Susan, here, to climb in.”

  The blonde tucked her chin into her neck. “You have got to be kidding! No way these legs of mine would fit back there!” As if to prove it, she stuck one out for Max and Lily to see. She looked imploringly at Lily. “You have shorter legs.” And wrinkling her nose, she added, “Would you mind terribly much if I rode up front?”

  Lily got out of the car, then got right back in and settled down in the back.

  “Thanks,” Susan said, taking Lily’s place. “You’re a doll.” She struggled with the seat belt for a moment, then grunted with frustration. “Maxie, be a dear and fasten it for me, will you?” Over her shoulder she added for Lily’s benefit, “This thing has always given me fits!”

  Max leaned in, headfirst, and snapped the buckle into place. “All tucked in?”

  When she nodded, he closed the door.

  “Doll,” indeed, Lily grumbled to herself. It was pretty apparent by things Susan had said that she and Max were more than business associates. But how much more? And for how long? If they were more than friends, why had he invited Lily here?

  Maybe what he’d said on the answering machine had only sounded like an invitation. Maybe the half of the message that she hadn’t received said something entirely different.

  “You okay back there?” Max asked her, down-shifting.

  “Fine and dandy.”

  Susan laid a long-taloned hand atop his. “Isn’t she the cutest little thing?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Cute.”

  Lily didn’t know what to make of his tone. She knew this: Coming to Chicago had been a mistake. A big mistake.

  Well, she told herself, you’re in it up to your ear-lobes now. What choice did she have but to go along for the ride, literally and figuratively?

  As they headed for the Wilkes’s mansion, Susan told Max about the cellist who’d played a solo at the symphony the night before, about the way she’d cried at the end of the ballet last week. She’d heard the most talented new tenor singing at the opera. Her techno-stock had risen in value by two whole points! And the latest client to sign on with the firm was sure to send their profits through the roof this year. “But really, Max,” Susan said, one long, red fingernail drawing circles on the
back of his hand, “if it hadn’t been for your securing the Vanemier account, I don’t know where we’d be. Why, the Vanemiers recommended so many of their contemporaries that…”

  Lily put her hands over her ears. If she had to listen to another word of this drivel, her head might just explode.

  “You sure you’re okay back there?”

  She met Max’s eyes in the rearview mirror and quickly put her hands in her lap. “Yup. Right as rain.”

  “Rain…that reminds me,” Susan said, “I’m going to my cabin in Wisconsin this weekend, and the weather man says it’s going to be great ski weather. Care to join me?”

  “Nah. Thanks, though.”

  “But, Maxie, you love to ski!”

  “I have to pass.”

  “Remember last time we went skiing? When you tried the ‘expert’ slope? Oh, if only I had a picture of your face when you came down that hill.” Susan threw her head back and laughed.

  Everything about her was sultry, from her deep, husky voice to her shapely legs to her waist-long golden hair. No wonder Max was attracted to her.

  Lily winced.

  Evidently, she’d taken the quiet moments she and Max had experienced, the warm kisses, the caring conversation, far more seriously than he had. He’d been right to call her Silly Lily earlier, but not because she’d teased a doorman! It had been absurd to read so much into what he’d said, into what they’d shared.

  Correction: into what she’d thought they shared.

  “Have you fallen asleep back there?” Susan asked. “I haven’t heard a peep out of you since we left my house.”

  If only sleep could rescue her from this moment! “Oh, I’m awake. Just mesmerized by the scintillating conversation going on up there.”

  It was too dark to read Max’s eyes in the rearview mirror. But something told Lily that her remark had not amused him. Tough beans, Maxie, Lily thought. She knew exactly what Cammi would say to that: “Tough beans? Such language!” The thought made her smile. Which reminded her that, no matter what happened between her and Max—between Max and Susan—Lily would always have her family to love and protect her.

  The mention of family made her think of Nate. Had Susan met the boy? And if she had, had she liked him? “Say, Maxie,” Lily said over the seat, “when’s Nate’s bedtime? Eight o’clock, right?”

  Max nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “He’d probably love it if you called, sang him a lullaby over the phone.”

  “A squeaking door hinge can hold a tune better than I can.”

  “Oh, I dunno,” Lily insisted. “I’ve heard you humming around the diner. You’re not so bad.”

  “Diner?”

  Susan’s voice wasn’t so honeyed now, Lily noted.

  “Would anybody mind if I made a quick stop at my place?” he said quickly. “I seem to have forgotten my wallet.”

  Nice save, Max, Lily thought. But “I don’t mind” is what she said.

  “We’ll be late,” Susan protested. “You know how Donald hates tardiness.”

  “We’ll make it on time. My house is five minutes from the Wilkes’s.”

  Max lived that close to a neighborhood full of mansions? What other things would she learn about him during this short visit to Illinois?

  “Max,” Susan said dully, “why must you always push the envelope? Honestly, sometimes I don’t know what to think of you.”

  What would she think of Max the short-order cook, Lily wondered, or Max the waiter? Would she draw pictures on the backs of his hands if she’d seen them buried deep in a tub of sudsy water, washing greasy dishes? How would she feel about Max the doting son, who’d carried his injured mother up and down the stairs for weeks, who’d lovingly changed the dressing on her incision every morning? And what of the Max who’d nearly worn the speckles off the hospital’s linoleum, pacing while his little boy was in surgery? Would she find his paternal concern attractive?

  Something told Lily that Susan had no idea such a Max existed.

  The car stopped in front of his house. “I’ll leave the car running,” he said, opening the driver’s door. “Won’t be but a minute.”

  “Mind if I use your little girls’ room, as long as we’re here?” Lily asked. Seeing inside the place would tell her still more about him. And she wanted to learn every detail, no matter how small.

  He huffed a bit, then shoved his seat forward, extending a hand to help her out of the car. Lily pretended not to see it. No sense stirring up memories of times when he’d sandwiched her hands between his own; that would only remind her of happier moments.

  “You know, I think I might just join you,” Susan said. “My nose could use a little powdering.”

  Max walked ahead to unlock the door.

  “Maybe you can give me a tour, Susan.”

  “Tour?” Susan stopped suddenly, as though someone had nailed her shoes to the redbrick driveway. “I…well…” She brightened, gathering her composure. “Of course. I’d be happy to.”

  Without knowing it, she’d given Lily the answer to a question she hadn’t even asked: Susan had never been to Max’s house. Lily’s heartbeat doubled with relief.

  He flipped a switch in the foyer, ushered his guests inside. “Powder room is the third door on your left, down that hall, there,” he told Lily. And to Susan he said, “Wallet’s on the dresser. Be down in no time. If you don’t want to wait for the powder room, there’s another bathroom one floor down, end of the hall.”

  Lily and Susan stood side by side, watching as he took the stairs two at a time. They glanced around, taking in the polished hardwood floor, the curved staircase with its mahogany railing, the enormous oil paintings hanging on the walls of the two-storied room. A grandfather clock chimed in the distance, counting out the seven o’clock hour.

  “Uh-oh,” Lily said. “‘We’re late, we’re late…’”

  Surprisingly, Susan laughed. “‘…for a very important date,’” she finished.

  Okay, so the big blonde wasn’t all bad. Her only flaw, really, was a colossal interest in Max, and Lily could hardly blame her for that.

  They walked through the darkened, quiet rooms, peering into doorways, looking around corners. It was a big house, bigger than he’d made it sound. Tastefully furnished with overstuffed sofas and chairs upholstered in muted plaids and elegant stripes. Had Melissa done the decorating? Or had Max had the place done over after the suicide, to hurry the healing along?

  “So, have you two had your fill yet?”

  Susan squealed and Lily gasped.

  “Maxie! You scared me out of ten years of my life.”

  “Don’t give it another thought,” Lily told her. “From what I hear, those last ten years are the hardest, anyway.”

  Again, Susan laughed at Lily’s joke. If not for their common interest in Max, maybe they could be friends….

  The instant her shock at his sudden appearance wore off, Susan struck a pose: one high heel in front of the other, knee bent and hip thrust out slightly, right shoulder a tad higher than the left, head tilted just enough.

  On second thought, Lily admitted, maybe they couldn’t be friends, after all. “Beautiful house, Max,” Lily said. “Your decorator has exquisite taste.”

  Leading them back to the foyer, he laughed. “Decorator?”

  Susan lowered her head and looked up at him through mascara-rimmed eyes. “Don’t tell me you did this all by yourself?”

  He opened the front door. “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

  Lily wasn’t surprised. He had a certain masculine sensitivity about him, an eye for detail. She gave him a playful shot to the arm on her way by. “Nice job, pal. I’m impressed. Again.”

  “Don’t be impressed. I’m not.”

  The look he gave her, when he said it, was reminiscent of those marvelous, magical moments on her front porch on Thanksgiving Day.

  But Lily couldn’t afford to put any stock in her memories.

  During dinner, Lily laughed quietly at Donald Wilkes’
s knock-knock jokes. But her attention wasn’t on the senior partner or his corny riddles, his elegant silk gabardine suit or his thousand-dollar-per-place-setting china. Fingers drumming lightly on the base of an intricately carved crystal goblet, she watched from the corner of her eye the couple who’d been seated directly across from her.

  Susan had gradually slid her dinnerware nearer to Max’s, allowing her to sit closer, to touch his hand each time she apologized for bumping his elbow or leaning into his shoulder. Much to Lily’s dismay, Max didn’t seem to mind a bit. If he’d figured out Susan’s little scheme, it sure didn’t show on his face. In fact, it looked to her as if he was flattered by the blonde’s blatant flirtations!

  They seemed to have much in common, much more than just their work. There was opera and ballet, the symphony, stocks and bonds… But Susan didn’t seem the type who’d warm to children. Didn’t look like the kind of woman Nate could relate to.

  He’d lived in that quiescently dignified house for years, yet hadn’t invited Susan to it. If they had so much in common, if he thought so highly of her, why hadn’t she been a guest before?

  “Who hasn’t seen the house?” Wilkes asked. He picked up his wineglass, sloshing a bit of the red stuff on the white linen tablecloth. “Follow me, people, and we’ll take the grand tour!”

  “Donald,” his wife scolded, “look what you’re doing!”

  He blotted the stain with a matching napkin. “Not to worry, darling. I’ll buy you a new one. I’ll buy you ten new ones!” His bawdy laughter bounced off the faux-suede painted walls. “Thanks to Sheridan, here, we’ll have plenty of money come bonus time.” He raised his glass. “A toast to Maxwell, for bringing us the biggest account in all of the Midwest!”

  Quiet murmurs of appreciation and a smattering of applause resounded in the room. But no one patted him on the back, no one shook his hand, Lily noticed. What a difference between this crowd and her father’s cronies!

  One by one, the guests followed Donald and his wife for the “grand tour.” Max, however, lingered in the library. “Been there, done that,” he explained when Susan waved at him to come along. “Bought the T-shirt and outgrew it.”