Baby Under the Christmas Tree

by Teresa Carpenter

  Warmth flooded Elle’s heart and she pulled Michelle into a huge hug. “I’m so happy for you. Nobody deserves to find happiness more than you.”

  “I never expected it.” Michelle wiped tears from under her eyes. “Being the world’s biggest romance cynic. But Gabe wouldn’t give up on me, and I’m so thankful he didn’t. We’ve set the date. Late April. You have to be there.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Elle promised. Her cell buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket. “A text from Max. He’s done with his practice.”

  For some reason the announcement brought the gleam back to Michelle’s green gaze. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss your attraction to Max Beasley. Promise me you’ll be open to love.”

  “Enough already,” Elle declared with affectionate frustration. “What’s your thing with me and Max?”

  “Don’t you get it? You’re Beauty, he’s The Beast. It’s like it was meant to be.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  MAX WAS LATE. They were supposed to be interviewing nannies and he should have been here thirty minutes ago.

  There went concession number one. Not that Elle was surprised.

  Disappointed was another thing. The emotion niggled insistently though she tried to push it away. She’d honestly thought they’d come to an understanding. At least he’d sounded sincere when he thanked her for all her assistance over the past couple of days after she helped him lug in her purchases last night.

  She’d already given the ladies an application to complete, but that delay wouldn’t last much longer. The slowest of the three had finished a couple of minutes ago.

  Elle sighed. She’d wait another ten minutes and then start the interviews without him.

  He breezed in halfway through the second interview making no excuses for his tardiness.

  Troy looked nice in a new outfit. When he saw Elle, he wiggled in Max’s arms, demanding to be put down. Max complied and Troy trotted right to Elle, clambering up into her lap. Affection tugged her heartstrings. She returned Troy’s hug with a smile. How quickly the adorable tyke had stolen into her heart.

  When he threw his arms around her neck and squeezed, her insides melted. It took a moment for her to regain her composure.

  She noticed he hadn’t asked for his mother. Well, not around Elle anyway.

  “This is Troy—and Max Beasley.” She made the introductions.

  “Mr. Beasley.” The applicant perked up at the sight of Max, her gaze surreptitiously sweeping over him like a kid looking at a lollipop. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m a big fan.”

  “It’s always nice to meet a fan.” He chatted on, charming the woman as he drew information from her.

  Too bad. The woman had shown promise. Elle liked her demeanor, pleasant and open, unlike candidate number one.

  Still Elle lined through her name on the list. Someone crushing on Max was not a good candidate. He’d be hard enough to work for without adding a personal element to the equation.

  From the look he sent her Max agreed.

  “Thanks for coming in.” Elle stood. “We’ll let the agency know our decision.” She wrapped up the interview.

  “So what did I miss?” He sprawled in the visitor’s chair, totally at ease.

  Elle handed him the applications. “The second candidate is the one that just left. I spoke to the first candidate before you arrived.” Yes, there was censure in her voice. “I asked her to stay in case you wanted to interview her yourself, but in my opinion she’s a bit...stiff for an energetic two-year-old.”

  “Sorry to be late.” He offered a belated apology. “Harold wanted me to stop by and sign some papers.”

  “You could have called.”

  He cocked a brow at her. “I’ll remember that next time.”

  “Please do.”

  “So is that them?” Max casually turned to check out the two women sitting in the reception area. Candidate one was tall and thin, all sharp lines and angles from her posture to her wedge-cut gray hair. There was nothing restful about the woman. Candidate three sat next to her, a petite brunette with golden skin and exotic eyes. Slim and pretty, she was the youngest of the three.

  “Yes. Should I have candidate one step back in?”

  “No. I agree with your assessment. Stiff is being kind. And I think Troy could take the small one.”

  Elle laughed. Then was appalled by the unprofessional response. His answering grin, the intimate moment of shared humor, only made the breach worse. Biting her lips together to hold in a smile, she fought for composure.

  “She’s probably stronger than she looks.” She defended the applicant but even as she said the words she knew it was a no go.

  “She’d have to be,” he muttered. Then he said louder, “Plus I couldn’t trust the guys around her.”

  “Do you have players over to your place a lot?” She set Troy down and handed him a ball from her bottom drawer.

  “Baseball,” he announced.

  “That’s right.” She applauded his knowledge. “Don’t throw it.”

  “Not a lot.” Max shifted in his seat. “I have a weekly poker game when we’re in town and occasionally host other events. Somebody is bound to hit on her, then leave her hanging, and then she’ll quit and I’ll have to start this process all over again. I say save the time and trouble.”

  “You’re the boss.” She gave in because she agreed with his assessment. “Excuse me while I let them go.”

  When she returned to her desk she gathered the applications together and tapped them into a neat pile. “I’ll contact the agency and set up more interviews. I know you’re in a hurry to find someone. Can you come back before the game tonight? I have a family event at two but I can probably be here by four.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I have someone in mind for the job.” The ball rolled close to Max’s feet and he picked it up and rolled it back to Troy.

  “Who?” Elle asked, suspicious. Setting up a lover as his nanny would defeat the purpose of any good publicity they managed to gain him. “We chose this agency because of its prestigious reputation in San Diego. We agreed it would help foster your image as a caring father.”

  “No, you made that decree and I went along with it, but now I’ve thought of someone else I want to have the job.”

  Seeing he was going to be stubborn about this, she turned to her computer. “Okay, give me her information. I’ll set up an appointment for an interview.”

  He rose to his feet. “How about we just go see her instead?”

  “Now?” She hated the squeak in her voice. “I planned to work this morning.”

  “It won’t take more than an hour. You probably had that much time scheduled for the rest of the interviews.”

  He was right but she had the bad feeling that once she left the office she wouldn’t make it back. On the other hand, he did need a nanny and if she didn’t go with him, he might hire the gal without Elle’s input. She needed to go along for damage control.

  “Okay, but I better not miss my nephew’s birthday party. I had a work event last year and had to miss it. Walter was not a happy camper. In fact, I better take my car.”

  He nixed that. “Troy is better when you’re along. I had to stop twice this morning because he kept trying to climb out of his seat.”

  That made sense so she grabbed her purse and reluctantly followed him to his SUV. He strapped Troy in and they hit the road headed east.

  After twenty
minutes on Highway 94 she asked, “Where does this gal live?”

  “Jamul.”

  “Jamul.” Good gracious. Jamul was a small burg in rural San Diego where most of the properties were big, far-spread and housed livestock. Was Max looking to make a ranch hand Troy’s nanny? She hoped he knew what he was doing. Just because a person knew how to feed a kid didn’t mean they knew how to feed a child.

  She flashed him a look full of her displeasure. “That’s an hour just in driving time.”

  “We won’t be there long.” He ignored her ire. “I’m sure she’ll be happy for the opportunity.”

  Elle crossed her arms and settled back in the corner of her seat. “So tell me about this gal. What’s her name? How do you know her?”

  “Deb Potter. I don’t like to talk about my past.”

  “Really?” she exclaimed, overdoing the surprise. “I’d never know that by all the phone calls I get from the press about how open you are in interviews.”

  He scowled at the sarcasm. “It’s nobody’s business.”

  “No. And the team doesn’t require you reveal anything you don’t want to. But you have to know, Max, the more you hold back the more they hound you.”

  “What I do on the ice is all that matters.”

  “You aren’t that naive.” Though there were times she wished it were that simple, too. “There’s the sport and there’s the celebrity, and they go hand in hand.”

  “I don’t have to like it,” he groused.

  “No. But you’re smart enough to use it. I’ve seen you use The Beast to divert attention away from your personal life.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smirk, and he raised one shoulder and let it drop. “They’re easily distracted.”

  “So, tell me about Deb.”

  His massive chest lifted and then he blew out a harsh breath. “You’re like a Chihuahua after a bone.”

  She cocked her head, decided she could live with that and prodded, “So give me what I want and I’ll stop. I’ll share,” she offered.

  He huffed. “What’s to know? It’s obvious you were the princess of your own little kingdom.”

  “Oh, I could tell you tales.”

  He rolled his eyes, then slanted a wolfish glance her way. “You’ll like Deb. She kept me in line when I was a kid.”

  “That’s quite a recommendation.” She checked the backseat to see how Troy was doing. His eyes were heavy and he was blinking to stay awake.

  “You have no idea,” Max drawled. “Deb and Pat Potter were my foster parents my last year in the system. They were decent.”

  Foster care. She sympathized, knowing it could be rough for kids in the system, but she couldn’t really relate. She might despair of living among athletes, but her parents were a solid couple, her family tight. Sure her brothers were a pain, but she loved them all.

  She didn’t know what it meant to be alone. She had her own place but it wasn’t the same. Her family were so much a part of who she was that even when she was alone she knew they were there, knew she had their support, knew she was loved.

  The way Max protected his past she bet a classification of decent said a lot.

  “How long were you in the system?” she asked. Sensing he’d detest any sign of sympathy, she aimed for matter-of-fact.

  And still silence met her query.

  But you didn’t survive in a family her size without cultivating a little stubbornness. She waited him out. Most people found silence awkward. Ordinarily, she doubted Max was one of them. Still, it worked.

  “I don’t remember ever not being in foster care as a child. Ever not feeling like an obligation to someone. Until Deb and Pat.”

  “Sounds rough.”

  “Says the princess with the picture-perfect childhood.”

  “Hey,” she chided him. “I admit I had a good childhood, but it wasn’t all sunshine and tiaras.”

  “Come on,” he jeered. “I’ve seen you in the seats with your family, rocking it and having a good time.”

  “Yes, we’re close. But I can also tell you living with four brothers is its own form of hell.”

  “I was born in jail.”

  “Oh my God.” The shock of it rocked her. And then the sadness of it made her hurt for him. Okay, he won the worst-childhood battle.

  His head swung around at her exclamation and his gaze swept over her face but there was no telling his thoughts.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I can’t imagine what it must feel like knowing that.”

  Eyes back on the road, he shrugged. “You put it behind you. If you don’t, it’ll drag you down.”

  “Yes. That I can imagine.” Just as she imagined it hadn’t been easy. Was this where his unexpected modesty came from? Was it a sense of unworthiness left over from his humble beginnings?

  “Your history came up every time you moved into a new home. My mother was a drunk and a druggie. Child Protective Services took me from her and put me in foster care when I was three and she was arrested for prostitution.”

  “You were an innocent, but you carried her sins with you.” Barely aware of whispering the thought aloud, Elle knew she’d hit a sore spot when Max went still beside her.

  “A long way from the castle and your princess upbringing.”

  She let that go because...well, just because. “What about your father?”

  Silence, and then a sigh. “I don’t know. My birth certificate lists unknown.”

  And it went from sad to sadder.

  “How’s Troy doing?” he tossed at her.

  She looked over her shoulder. Troy slept in a patch of warm sunshine, his innocence radiating off him like a beacon. She imagined him at the mercy of a mother more interested in her next fix than his next meal and everything in her rebelled.

  “That’s why you went for custody of Troy,” she blurted. “You weren’t going to let happen to him what happened to you.”

  A ruddiness darkened his cheeks and his eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. His very reticence confirmed her insight.

  “Good for you.” She didn’t know why he was embarrassed. She was usually the first one to give him a bad time, but he deserved huge kudos for stepping up for Troy. With his background it would have been so easy for him to turn his back and walk away.

  “Don’t patronize me,” he snarled.

  “I’m not,” she assured him sincerely. “I admire your commitment to raise him. I questioned your dedication in the beginning, but I understand now why you feel you have to do this.”

  “You don’t understand shit.”

  Hurt by his harsh rejection, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared out the window. “I understand you’re such a jerk you have a problem accepting a simple compliment. In one way you’re right. I have no idea what your life was like. I was lucky. I had both parents and doting older brothers. But that doesn’t mean I don’t possess the sensibilities to understand how a father would want to give his son a better life than he had.”

  She felt the weight of his stare, but no words came.

  She’d been nice to him, and he’d thrown it in her face. The man was a rude brute. Beast fit him to a T.

  He didn’t want to talk? Fine. She reached for her phone and punched up her messages. She had work to do anyway.

  * * *

  Elle and Deb hit it off like a man and his remote control. Sprawled in a narrow wingback chair in Deb’s small living room, Max shifted his attention from woman to woman, one s
tunning with a dark mahogany ponytail, the other a comfortable woman in her late forties with a brown bob.

  They couldn’t be more different, yet they’d instantly become fast friends.

  Troy sat on Deb’s lap eating a cookie while the women talked over his head. Yammering like long-lost friends, the women had rippled through more topics in twenty minutes than he did during a three-hour poker game.

  “Max, this boy of yours is precious.” Deb ran her fingers through Troy’s fine blond hair, her expression slightly wistful. “He’s grown so much since the last time I saw him. I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to bring him by again.”

  “With all the traveling I do, I’ve only had him for a day or two here and there.”

  “I understand.” She sent him a fond smile. “I’m happy you find time to attend the occasional performance with this old woman.”

  “Old, my ass,” he scoffed at her claim. “You can run circles around women half your age. Which doesn’t mean you should be handling this place on your own. Are you ready to give it up yet?”

  She shrugged. “The market is soft. Plus where else would I go?”

  He jumped on the opening. “That’s why I’m here actually. I’m bringing Troy to live with me. I need you to come take care of us.”

  “What?” Caught off guard, Deb gave a nervous laugh. “Don’t tease,” she warned. “I’ve fallen for this little guy and if you’re not careful you’ll find me lodged in your guest room.”

  “It’s agreed, then.” He carefully kept his gaze trained away from Elle. “Pack your bags.”

  He’d made a fool of himself on the ride out here. Hurt her. An apology wouldn’t be out of line. But forget it. He’d told her he didn’t talk about his past. She should have respected his wishes instead of delving into his psyche and hitting too close to home.

  “I think I’ll stay here, thank you.” Deb waved him off, obviously not taking him seriously. “But you can bring this little guy out to see me anytime.”