Книга - The Tycoon’s Secret Daughter

The Tycoon's Secret Daughter
SUSAN MEIER











FIRST TIME DADS!


From bachelorhood to fatherhood …

Pine Ward’s most eligible bachelors, the gorgeous Montgomery brothers, are about to get some unexpected arrivals!

Join Max and Chance as they deal with the challenges of parenthood and discover the true meaning of family along the way.

Don’t miss this emotionally gripping duet from reader favorite Susan Meier!

Read Max’s story and find out how his secret daughter, Trisha, brings him and ex-wife, Kate, back together again in

THE TYCOON’S SECRET DAUGHTER

October 2012

Meet Chance, the black sheep of the Montgomery family, as he returns home to Pine Ward to lay the past to rest with his adorable twin babies, Sam and Cindy, and the beautiful woman taking care of them in

NANNY FOR THE MILLIONAIRE’S TWINS

November 2012


Dear Reader,

Max Montgomery was a rich kid, a lucky guy who had everything. Good looks. Personality. Money. His life was perfect until he went to work for the family business, Montgomery Development, and discovered his dad was a bit of a scoundrel.

But he got lucky again and found the love of his life, Kate. And Kate kept him grounded—until Max stumbled on the big family secret. That secret shook him so bad he started drinking. He drank so much he ruined his sterling reputation and ended his perfect marriage.

Almost a decade later, his father is dead, Max is sober and he wants his wife back. The only problem is she also has a secret. She was pregnant when she left, and he has an eight-year-old daughter he’s never met.

Suddenly, the shoe is on the other foot. Kate doesn’t just have to forgive him; he has to forgive her, too.

Forgiveness is a funny thing. Real love is even more intriguing. I learned a lot about life and people while writing this story. Sometimes I laughed. Sometimes I cried. But with Max and Kate there was never a dull moment.

I think you’re really going to like this one.

Susan Meier




About the Author


SUSAN MEIER spent most of her twenties thinking she was a job-hopper—until she began to write and realized everything that had come before was only research!

One of eleven children, with twenty-four nieces and nephews and three kids of her own, Susan has had plenty of real-life experience watching romance blossom in unexpected ways. She lives in western Pennsylvania with her wonderful husband, Mike, three children and two overfed, well-cuddled cats, Sophie and Fluffy. You can visit Susan’s website, www.susanmeier.com.




The Tycoon’s

Secret Daughter

Susan Meier





















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For my friend Denise.

The last idea we brainstormed together.

I’m sorry you couldn’t see the finished book.




CHAPTER ONE


EXITING THE ELEVATOR in the lobby of Mercy General Hospital, Max Montgomery glanced up and did a double-take. The woman leaving the coffee shop looked exactly like his ex-wife.

As petite as Kate, wearing blue jeans and a little flowered top that was her style, with thick, shoulder-length sable-colored hair that swung when she moved, she had to be Kate.

He shook his head, telling himself that was nuts. His wife had left Pine Ward, Pennsylvania, almost eight years ago and he hadn’t seen her since. She’d divorced him through lawyers. Hadn’t answered the letters he’d sent to her parents’ home. Hadn’t even returned to visit as far as he knew. Not even at holidays. That couldn’t be her.

He made his way to the glass exit doors and they automatically parted, but curiosity turned him around before he could step out.

The woman now stood in front of the elevator he’d exited, her back to him.

Sensation vibrated through him, the radar he’d always had with her. He’d always known when she was within twenty feet. Always known when she was about to walk into the room. Always known.

It had to be her. The radar never failed.

He took a few cautious steps toward her, but stopped. Even if it was her, why would she want to see him? What would he say? Sorry I screwed up our marriage, but I’m sober now?

Actually, that wasn’t such a bad idea. Of all the people on his twelve-step list, people he needed to make amends with, he’d contacted everyone but her. The person who most deserved his apology.

If it wasn’t her, he’d simply apologize for the mistake.

Either way, he’d be apologizing. No big deal.

He sucked in a breath, crossed the small space between them and tapped her shoulder.

She turned.

His heart stopped then sped up again. It was her.

His mind flew to the day he’d met her at a pool party at a friend’s house. She’d worn a green bikini that matched her eyes. But though her looks had been what caught his attention, it was her personality that had hooked his heart. Sweet. Fearless. Funny. In one short conversation, she’d made him forget every other woman he knew. And now she was here. In front of him.

His heart stumbled. His knees weakened.

But when she realized who’d tapped her, the happily surprised expression on her face crumbled and was replaced by something Max could only describe as a look of horror.

“Max!”

A lump of emotion lodged in his throat. More of their life together flashed through his brain. The way they’d talked till dawn the night of the pool party. The first time they’d kissed. The first time they’d made love. Their wedding day.

He’d thrown it all away for the contents of a bottle.

He cleared his throat. “Kate.”

She motioned with her coffee. “I … um … I need to get this up to my mom.”

This time when his heart up-ended it was with fear for her. “Your mom is here? As a patient?”

“No. No. She’s fine.” She glanced around nervously. “Daddy had a stroke.”

Was that any better? “Oh, my God. I’m sorry.”

“He’s okay.” She looked to the right again. “The stroke was reasonably mild. Prognosis is good.” She tried to smile. “I’ve really gotta go.”

It was the worst moment of his life. Eight years ago, she would have turned to him in this kind of tragedy. Today, she couldn’t stand to be around him. In some respects, he didn’t blame her. But he’d changed. He’d been in Alcoholics Anonymous for seven years. He was sober. And he did realize what he’d lost. But more than that, apologizing, admitting his faults, was part of his twelve-step program.

When the elevator pinged, he caught her arm to prevent her from turning. Electricity crackled through him.

Their gazes caught. His heart swelled with misery. God, how he’d loved her.

She swallowed. “I’ve really gotta …”

“Go. I know. But I need a minute.”

Hospital employees walked out of the elevators behind them. The gathering crowd waiting for the elevator loaded inside.

She glanced around nervously.

Pain skittered through him. She couldn’t even stand to be seen with him. He thought back to the times he’d embarrassed her and the pain became a familiar ache. He’d disappointed so many people.

But that was seven years ago.

And today was today.

He pulled her a few feet away from the elevators. “I have to tell you that I’m sorry.”

Her face scrunched with confusion. “Have to?”

“Yes. It’s part of the program.”

Her eyes lit with recognition. “Oh, twelve steps.”

“Yes.”

She looked at him differently now, closely. “You’re sober.”

He finally let himself smile. He’d wanted to be able to tell her that for seven long years. “Yes.”

Her voice softened. “I’m so glad.”

His chest loosened a bit. Breathing became easier. “I am, too.”

An awkward silence stretched between them. He understood. There really wasn’t anything for them to say. He’d ruined their marriage. She’d left him to save herself.

She showed him the two cups of coffee again. “I should get this to my mom before it gets cold.”

Pain radiated out from his heart to his entire body. He’d had this woman. She’d loved him and he’d loved her. She’d been everything to him and he’d driven her away.

Don’t dwell on the past. Focus on the future.

He stepped back. “Yeah. Sure. I’m sorry.”

The bell for the second elevator pinged. The doors swooshed open. Kate turned to get inside, but a little girl raced out.

“Mom! Grandma sent me to find you. She thinks you’re making that coffee.”

Mom?

His knees that had already been weakened began to shake. The little girl’s hair might have been the same sable color as Kate’s, but those blue eyes … they were Montgomery eyes.

Pain morphed into shock. Could this be his child? His daughter?

“And who is this?”

Kate’s gaze flicked to his. Her hand fell protectively to the little girl’s shoulder. “This is Trisha.”

His body went stock-still. “Short for Patricia?” His beloved grandmother’s name? Why name the little girl after his grandmother if she wasn’t his?

She smiled weakly. Her eyes filled with tears. She whispered, “Yes.”

Damn it.

He had a child. A daughter. And Kate had kept her from him?

He looked at the little girl again. Pain, wonder, curiosity simultaneously burst inside him. Everything in him wanted to touch her. To examine her. To see the beautiful child he’d made.

But anger warred with longing and both of them were wrapped in confusion. Was this why she’d left him? Because she was pregnant? Because she didn’t want him to know his child?

Fury rose, hot and eager for release, but thank God his common sense had not deserted him. With this beautiful little girl standing so sweetly innocent in front of him, he couldn’t out-and-out ask Kate if this was his daughter.

Kate wanted to grab her baby girl and run away. Not because she feared Max. When he was sober, he was a great guy. And right now he was sober. But drunk? He had never hurt her, but he’d ranted and raved, smashed dishes, broken windows. The night she’d made the choice to leave rather than tell him she was pregnant, he’d smashed their television and thrown a vase through their front window. She’d known she couldn’t bring a child into that world.

But she’d also realized it wouldn’t be good enough to merely leave him. He had money. He had power. After she had their baby, he’d get visitation, and she wouldn’t be able to control what happened. If he drank around their little girl, or drove drunk with her in the car, he could kill her. And there would be nothing she could do to stop it, if only because every judge in the county owed his election to the Montgomerys.

That frightening night, standing amid the evidence that his bad behavior was escalating, she’d made the only choice she could make. She’d disappeared.

She swallowed, motioned to the elevator. “We’ve gotta go.”

He hesitated. His gaze slid to their daughter, then returned to her. “Okay.”

She saw the anger in his eyes, and quickly herded Trisha into the elevator. The doors swished closed. Her eyes drifted shut, and she expelled a low breath as guilt trembled through her. She had no idea how long he’d been sober. Her parents didn’t travel in his social circle and she lived too far away to hear a rumor.

What if he’d stopped drinking the day after she’d left? What if she’d kept Trisha away from him for nothing?

“Who was that?”

She opened her eyes to glance down at her daughter. This was neither the time nor the place to tell Trisha that she’d just seen her father, but she knew the time and place were coming soon.

The elevator doors opened. “Let’s go. Grandma’s waiting for her coffee.”

Trisha giggled. “I know. She thinks you’re making it.”

Kate smiled at her lovely, innocent daughter whose world was about to be turned upside down, and headed to her dad’s room. His “incident” had been a few days before. He was awake now, at therapy a good percentage of the day and so eager to get home he was gruff.

“Hey, Daddy.” She leaned in and bussed a kiss on his cheek. “If I’d known you were awake I’d have brought you coffee, too.”

Her mom stepped from behind the privacy curtain surrounding the bed. As tall as Kate, dressed in jeans and a sleeveless top, with her brown hair cut in a neat short style, Bev Hunter said, “He doesn’t get coffee until the doctor says so.”

Her dad rolled his eyes for Kate, but smiled at his wife. His words were slow and shaky when he said, “Yes, warden.”

Kate’s hands were every bit as shaky when she gave one of the two coffees to her mom. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Bev popped the lid, took a sip. “You were gone so long I worried that you’d gotten lost.”

“Not lost.”

“Mommy was talking to a guy.”

Bev’s eyebrows waggled. “Reeea-lly?”

“He wasn’t somebody I wanted to see.” She nudged her head in Trisha’s direction. “But this isn’t the time to talk about it.”

Her mom frowned, then her eyes widened in recognition. “You didn’t?”

“I didn’t do anything. He just suddenly appeared out of nowhere. But July is the month Montgomery Development does their annual physicals.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I should have remembered that.”

Her mom groaned. “So he was here, and he saw Trisha.”

Kate grabbed a paper cup from her dad’s tray table and handed it to Trisha. “Would you throw this away in the bathroom trash can and then wash your hands?”

Trisha nodded eagerly like the well-behaved almost-seven-year-old that she was. When she was gone, Kate said, “I have about thirty seconds. So just let me say Max found me. Trisha came out of the elevator when we were talking. He took one look at her and knew.”

Her mom pressed her hand to her chest. “I knew you shouldn’t have come home!”

“I wasn’t about to desert the two of you when Daddy was so sick.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Mom, Max is sober.”

Bev took a second to process that, then snorted in disgust. “And you’re feeling guilty?” She snorted again. “The man had become violent and was getting worse by the day. You had no choice but to protect your child.”

“But I could have checked on him—”

“You have no idea when he got sober. For all you know, he just went to his first AA meeting last week. This isn’t the time to be second-guessing.”

Kate heaved out a sigh. “Okay, but I know Max was angry. If I don’t go talk to him, he’ll probably come to the house tonight. Or I’ll be hit with some kind of legal papers tomorrow. Or maybe both.”

Walking out of the bathroom, sweet, trusting, Trish smiled. Kate’s heart sank. If he came to the house, they’d have to have their talk in front of Trisha. And she didn’t want Trisha to hear her dad was a drunk. Especially when she was too young to understand.

“You know what? I think I’d better deal with this now.” She faced her mom. “Will you guys be okay for an hour or so without me?”

Her eyes filled with worry, Bev said, “Sure.”

Kate sucked in a breath and turned to her daughter. “You behave for Grandma.”

Trisha nodded and Kate left her dad’s hospital room. She got into her car and drove to downtown Pine Ward. The small city was old and working to revive itself after the loss of the steel mills in the 1990s. Buildings from the 1940s were being renovated. Trees had been planted along the sidewalk on Main Street. A few new restaurants had even popped up.

She left her car in a parking garage and headed out. A couple of blocks and two turns took her off the beaten path to the place in the city where the newer, more modern structures stood. She stopped in front of the yellow brick building housing Montgomery Real Estate and Development. Only four stories, it nonetheless had an air of wealth and power. Quiet. Dignified. Understated.

She hesitated. Though Max had been reasonably calm at the hospital, she knew he was angry with her. He had to be. If the tables were turned, she’d be furious with him. So his anger was justified. And she had to admit that.

Maybe it would be better to give him a day or two to get past that? To get his bearings?

Blowing her breath out on a long sigh, she told herself no. If she didn’t meet with him on her terms, they’d meet on his. He’d either come to the house and they’d fight in front of Trisha, or they’d meet in a room filled with lawyers. And she’d really lose because he could afford much better lawyers than she could. If at all possible, she had to settle this without lawyers.

She walked through the glass double doors into paradise. Glancing around the remodeled lobby, she took in vaulted ceilings that soared to the roof. Sunshine poured in through huge skylights and fed the potted trees that sat on each side of the two white sofas in the reception area. A polished yellow-wood reception desk sat in the center of everything.

The Montgomerys had been wealthy when she’d been married to Max, and she knew their business had grown. But actually seeing the results of that growth was a staggering reminder of the different stations in the lives of the Montgomerys and the Hunters.

Fear shivered through her. She’d kept wealthy Max Montgomery’s daughter away from him for seven years—nearly eight if she counted the pregnancy. Though she’d almost called him a hundred times over the years to tell him about Trisha, to give him a chance to be part of her life, every time she’d picked up the phone she remembered that night. The smashed television. The shattered glasses from the bar shelf. The broken front window. And she’d been afraid. Not just for herself, but for their daughter. He’d made her afraid. Why should she be the one cowering now, when he’d given her no choice but to leave?

She straightened her shoulders. She would not cower. She would not back down. He’d made this bed. And she would remind him of that. Maybe even ask him if he’d like those details coming out in court if he argued with her over custody or visitation.

Dark brown travertine tile led to the reception desk. The pretty twenty-something redhead manning the station greeted her with a smile. “Can I help you?”

“Yes. I’d like to see Mr. Montgomery.”

She glanced down at a small computer screen. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No. But if you’ll tell him Kate Hunter Montgomery is here, I’m sure he’ll see me.”

The young woman glanced over at Kate with raised eyebrows. Kate stood perfectly still under her scrutiny, knowing exactly what the receptionist saw. A small woman with big green eyes and hair just a little bit too thick to tame. Not exactly the woman everyone would expect to be married to a mogul—a ridiculously handsome one at that. With his black hair, blue eyes and tall, lean body, Max had always been a magnet for women. Beautiful women. And he’d chosen her.

It sometimes still puzzled her. Other times it made her realize that having your wishes come true might be the worst thing that could happen.

The receptionist pressed two buttons on her phone, then turned away.

Kate heard only muffled words. Her name. Her description.

Then a wait.

She’d probably called Max’s secretary, who had taken the information to Max.

Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds.

Her face grew warm, her hands clammy. Surely he wasn’t so angry that he’d refuse to see her?

Memories of being married to a wealthy man came flooding back. His job was important. His place in the community was even more important. Fundraisers. Ribbon-cuttings. Balls. Parties.

Always worried she’d say or do the wrong thing.

Never feeling good enough.

Righteous indignation surged in her blood. She was the star project manager at her job in Tennessee. She raised a daughter on her own. If she went to a fundraiser, she contributed. If she went to a ribbon-cutting it was for a building she’d helped build.

Good enough?

Hell, yeah. She was good enough. And if Max thought he and his money were going to push her around, he was sadly mistaken.

The receptionist faced her. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Montgomery. You may go up.”

“Actually, it’s Ms. Hunter now.”

The receptionist nodded in acknowledgment. “Take the third elevator in the back of that hall.” She pointed to the left. “By the time you get there, a security guard will be there to punch in the code.”

She walked to the last elevator with her head high. The security guard said, “Good morning, Ms. Hunter.” Proof the receptionist was very good at her job. Punching a few numbers into a keypad, he opened the elevator, motioned her inside and stepped back as the doors closed.

The ride to the fourth floor took seconds. The door swooshed open. More potted trees accented a low, ultra-modern green sofa and chair. A green print rug sat on the yellow hardwood floor.

Sitting at the desk in front of a wall of windows, Max looked up.

Catching him off guard, Kate didn’t see the angry father of her child or the rich mogul. She saw Max. Real Max. Max with his thick, unruly black hair. Max with his easy smile and pretty blue eyes. The first time she’d laid eyes on him, he’d stolen her breath and her heart.

Which was another reason she’d moved away rather than simply move out when she’d gotten pregnant. No matter how bad their life, she’d always loved him and he’d always been able to charm her.

She swallowed. Her bravado from the reception area began to fade. But she forced it back to life. She wasn’t here to argue for herself, but for Trisha. To protect Trisha.

He rose from his tall-backed, golden-brown leather chair. “Kate. I have to say I’m kind of surprised.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m not the wimpy girl you married.” There. Best to get that out in the open before they went any further. “We have something to discuss. We’re going to discuss it.”

“Big talk from a woman who ran away.”

“From a drunk,” she said, not mincing words. She knew she’d done the right thing and she wasn’t going to let his good looks and charm suck her in again. Too much was at stake.

“And hitting below the belt, I see.”

“Saying the truth isn’t hitting below the belt. Unless you can’t handle the truth.”

His breath poured out in a long hiss as he motioned toward the green sofa and chair. “I know who and what I am.”

She headed for the chair, not wanting to risk that he’d sit beside her on the couch. “Then this conversation should go very easily. We have a daughter. You’re sober now. And I’m willing to let you spend time with Trisha as long as I’m with you.”

Max lowered himself to the sofa. “With me? I don’t get to see my child alone?”

Her chin rose again. “No. Not until I trust you.”

Max stared at her. Just as he’d changed over the past eight years, she had, too. Gone was his sweet Kate, replaced by somebody he didn’t know. Maybe somebody he didn’t want to know. Maybe even somebody who deserved the burst of fury he longed to release.

He rubbed his hands down his face. No matter how much he wanted to rant and rail, he couldn’t give in to it. Not only had he been at fault for her leaving, but just as drinking didn’t solve anything, neither did losing his temper. Another lesson he’d learned while she was gone.

His voice was perfectly controlled as he said, “I don’t think you’re in a position to dictate terms.”

“I think I am.”

“And I have two lawyers who say you aren’t.”

Her eyes widened with incredulity. “You’ve already called your lawyers?”

“A smart businessman knows when he needs advice.”

“So you think you’re going to ride roughshod over me with lawyers?”

“I think I’m going to do what I have to do.”

She shook her head. “Do you want me to leave tomorrow? Do you want me to hide so far away and so deeply that you’ll never, ever see your daughter?”

Control be damned. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m protecting my daughter. We play by my rules or no rules at all. I won’t put Trisha at risk.”

“Risk? You have no reason to fear for her. I never hurt you!”

“No, you just smashed TVs and broke windows. You were escalating, Max, and you scared me.”

Guilt pummeled him enough that he scrubbed his hand over his mouth to give himself a few seconds to collect himself. Finally he said, “You could have talked to me.”

Her face scrunched in disbelief. “Really? Talk to a guy so drunk he could barely stand? And how was that supposed to work?”

“I might have come home drunk, but I was sober every morning.”

“And hungover.”

He sighed. “No matter how I felt, I would have listened to you.”

“That’s not how I remember it. I remember living with a man who was either stone-cold drunk or hungover. Three years of silence or lies and broken promises. Three years of living with a man who barely noticed I was there. I won’t sit back and watch our little girl stare out the window waiting for you the way I used to. Or lie in bed worrying that you’d wrecked your car because you were too drunk to drive and too stubborn to admit it. Or spend the day alone, waiting for you to wake up because you’d been out all night.”

Fury rattled through him. “I’m sober now!”

“I see that. And I honestly hope it lasts. But even you can’t tell me with absolute certainty that it will. And since you can’t, I stand between you and Trisha. I protect her. She will not go through what I went through.”

Her voice wobbled, and the anger that had been pulsing through his brain, feeding his replies, stopped dead in its tracks. She wasn’t just mad at him. She was still hurting.

She rose and paced to his desk. “Do you know what it’s like to live with someone who tells you they love you but then doesn’t have ten minutes in a day for you?”

Max went stock-still. This was usually what happened when he apologized. The person he’d wronged had a grievance. It had been so long since he’d had one of these sessions that he’d forgotten. But when Kate turned, her green eyes wary, her voice soft, filled with repressed pain, remorse flooded him. She had a right to be angry.

“I’ll tell you what it’s like. It’s painful, but most of all it’s bone-shatteringly lonely.”

Guilt tightened his stomach. He’d always known he’d hurt her, but he’d never been sober enough to hear the pain in her voice, see it shimmer in her eyes.

And she wanted to save Trisha from that. So did he. But the way he’d protect her would be to stay sober. “I won’t hurt her.”

“You know, you always told me the same thing. That you wouldn’t hurt me. But you did. Every day.” Her voice softened to a faint whisper. “Every damned day.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

“Right.”

Righteous indignation rose up in him. He hated his past as much as she hated his past. But this time she wasn’t innocent.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I’d have gotten sober sooner if I’d known I was having a child? Did you ever stop to think that if you’d stayed, I might have turned around an entire year sooner?”

“No.” She caught his gaze. “You loved me, Max. I always knew it. But I wasn’t a good enough reason for you to get sober. I wasn’t taking a chance with our child.”

“You could have at least told me you were pregnant before you left.”

“And have you show up drunk at the hospital while I was struggling through labor? Or drunk on Christmas Day to ruin Trisha’s first holiday? Or maybe have you stagger into her dance recital so she could be embarrassed in front of her friends?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

The picture she painted shamed him. Things he’d done drunk now embarrassed him as much as they had his friends and family. And he suddenly understood. Making amends with Kate wouldn’t be as simple as saying he was sorry. He was going to have to prove himself to her.

He blew his breath out on a sigh, accepted it, because accepting who he was, who he had been, was part of his recovery. “So maybe it would be good for you to be around when I see her.”

Her reply was soft, solemn. “Maybe it would.”

“Can I come over tonight and meet her?”

“I was thinking tomorrow afternoon might be a better idea. I take my mom to the hospital every day, but lately Trisha’s been bored. So I thought I’d start bringing her home in the afternoon.”

“And I can come over?”

“Yes. Until my dad is released from the hospital, we’ll have some privacy.”

With that she turned and headed for the elevator. Prickling with guilt, he leaned back on the sofa. But when the elevator doors swished closed behind her, he thought about how different things might have been if she’d told him about her pregnancy, and his anger returned. She hadn’t given him a chance to try to sober up. She hadn’t even given him a chance to be a dad.

Still, could he blame her?

A tiny voice deep down inside him said yes. He could blame her. He might see her perspective, but he’d also had a right to know his child.

He rose from the sofa and headed for his desk again. That’s exactly what his father had told him the night he’d confronted him about being his adopted brother Chance’s biological father. About bringing his illegitimate son into their home with a lie. A sham. An adoption used to cover an affair.

I had a right to know my child.

He ran his hand across his forehead as nerves and more anger surged through him. He hadn’t thought about that part of his life in years. His brother had run away the night Max had confronted their dad. Which was part of why Max drank. At AA he’d learned to put those troubles behind him, but now, suddenly, here he was again, wondering. Missing his brother with a great ache that gnawed at his belly. Because Kate was home and Kate was part of that time in his life.

Losing Chance might have been the event that pushed him over the edge with his alcoholism, but he wasn’t that guy anymore. He hadn’t been for seven long years. He only hoped seeing Kate, fighting with Kate, meeting a daughter he hadn’t known he had, didn’t tempt that guy out of hiding.

He grabbed his cell phone from his desk and hit the speed-dial number for his sponsor.




CHAPTER TWO


THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Max left the office at noon and raced home to put on jeans and a T-shirt. Something more comfortable, more casual, than a black suit and white shirt, so he didn’t intimidate his daughter. Or Kate.

Like it or not, he had things to make up to her. His sponsor, Joe Zubek, had reminded him of that. He had to take responsibility for everything he’d done while drunk, and he’d hurt Kate—mistreated her enough that she didn’t want their daughter to suffer the same fate.

He had to take responsibility.

He chose the Range Rover over the Mercedes and drove past the expensive houses and estates in the lush part of the city in which he lived. Once off the hill, he headed across the bridge, through Pine Ward’s business district to the blue-collar section of town where little Cape Cods mixed and mingled with older two-story homes and a few newer ranch houses.

He made three turns to get to Elm Street and there it was. The redbrick, two-story house he’d loved. Not just because Kate had lived there, but because it had a wide front porch and a swing.

He stopped his vehicle and simply stared at the porch, the swing. He couldn’t count the number of times he and Kate had made out on that swing.

His eyes drifted shut at the memory. She’d been eighteen to his twenty-four. Not necessarily a huge age difference but Kate had been sheltered. So he’d had to go slow with her, be cautious. But when they’d finally made love—in a room sprinkled with rose petals and filled with soft candlelight—oh, Lord. He’d known—he’d absolutely known—she was the only woman in the world for him. They were together for nine years. Four years of dating until she graduated university, and five years of marriage. When she’d left him, he’d missed her so much he sometimes thought his heart would wither and die.

And now she was back.

He popped open his eyes and yanked the key from the Rover’s ignition. It didn’t matter. He’d screwed up their relationship permanently and there was no going back. Besides, his current time with Kate wouldn’t be about them. It would be about their daughter. And he wouldn’t lose the chance to know Trisha by foolishly wanting to rekindle a romance that was dead. He’d killed it. He had to remember that.

He strode up the sidewalk and across the plank porch without as much as a glance in the direction of the swing.

When he rang the bell, Kate instantly opened the door, as if she’d been waiting for him. Wearing a short white shirt that didn’t quite reach her low-riding jeans, with bare feet and toe-nails painted a bright blue, she looked closer to twenty than thirty-five. Her thick dark hair swirled around her.

His racing heart stuttered. She wasn’t what anyone would call conventionally beautiful, but she had an innate sexuality that stopped most men in their tracks. Including him. After his thoughts in the car, thoughts of making out on a porch swing and making love to her in a hotel room filled with candles, he couldn’t keep his gaze from taking a second trip down her trim body to her sexy toes and back up again.

He had to swallow before he could say, “Hey.”

“Come in, Max.”

He stepped inside the simple foyer. Pale beige floor tiles led to hardwood floors in both the dining room on the right and the living room on the left.

She motioned to the peach-and-beige sofa and matching chairs—the same furniture that had been in the room when they were married. “Let’s sit.”

As he turned to go into the living room, he caught a glimpse of Trisha peeking out of the kitchen. She smiled shyly at him. His heart began to thrum in his chest. She had Kate’s pretty pixie face, his blue eyes. She was an adorable little image of both of them.

Kate also saw Trisha and she laughed. “Come on, sweetie. Don’t be shy. Come into the living room with Mommy.” Then she walked to the sofa, motioning for him to sit on one of the two club chairs across from her.

Trisha entered slowly, shyly, sidling up beside the arm of the sofa where her mom sat, as Max lowered himself to a club chair.

Kate didn’t waste any time. “Trisha, this is the man I told you about.” She paused just for a second. “Your father.”

Trisha glanced at the floor. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He’d never felt so much so fast. Fear and wonder filled him simultaneously, along with a fresh burst of anger. He was clumsy right now, tongued-tied with his own child because Kate had kept her from him. “I … um … it’s nice to meet you.”

Trish nodded.

Kate said, “Trisha will be starting second grade in the fall.”

“Second grade,” Max repeated, his tongue thick, his brain a ball of melting wax. Thoughts beeped in his head like neon signs. Had Kate stayed, he’d know his little girl. He might have seen her birth. He might have gotten sober sooner—

They might still be married.

He sucked in a breath. Told himself to stop those thoughts. All of them. He had to take responsibility. “That’s … I remember having fun in second grade.”

She peeked up at him. “I had fun in first grade.”

“Trisha’s a very good student. Her teachers love her.”

Trisha smiled again, this time revealing two missing front teeth.

His heart skipped a beat. A laugh bubbled to his chest. She was so damned cute.

“Teachers always like the kids who get good grades.”

Kate’s mom entered the room carrying a tray, surprising Max. He’d thought they were supposed to be alone…. Then he understood. Kate didn’t trust him enough to be alone with him.

Bev smiled brightly. Too brightly. “I have lemonade and cookies if anybody’s interested.”

Trish reached for a cookie even before Bev had the tray on the table.

Kate laughed. “Where are your manners? Your dad’s a guest in our house. We offer him a cookie first.”

Trisha reluctantly brought her hand back and caught his gaze. “Do you want a cookie?”

Max’s chest tightened. He had a daughter he didn’t know, a little girl who, right now, was probably as uncomfortable with him as he was with her, and a shivering ex-mother-in-law, trying to pretend everything was okay. All because Kate had kept them apart. And why? Because she was afraid? He’d never physically hurt her. Never.

He struggled with the urge to shout an obscenity and then struggled not to squeeze his eyes shut in frustration. He couldn’t think like this. He wasn’t allowed. He had to take responsibility for his actions. He couldn’t blame someone else.

He forced a smile for Trisha. “Sure. Yeah. I’d love a cookie.”

Bev offered the plate to him. He took one of the fat chocolate chip cookies. Nobody spoke.

After a few bites, Trisha broke the silence. “Do you like the cookie?”

This time his smile wasn’t forced. When he looked at her sweet face, he just wanted to hug her. He longed to put his arms around her and feel his own child in his arms.

“Yes. I like the cookie very much.” He cleared his throat, reminded himself to stay in the moment. If he was here for Trisha, he would be here for Trisha. Really here. “So what about your friends? Do you have lots of friends?”

“Sunny and Jeffrey.”

His gaze shot to Kate’s. “Her best friends are boys?”

Trisha giggled. The sound skipped along his nerve endings, warming his heart, filling him with awe. This was his daughter. His baby girl. If he wanted to be in her life, he couldn’t dwell in the past. He had to live in today. This minute.

“Sunny’s a girl.”

“Oh, I was thinking Sonny.”

She frowned.

He smiled. “Never mind. What’s your favorite game? Do you play T-ball? Little League?”

Confused by his question, Trisha glanced at her mom who said, “Those are sports.”

She faced him again with a big toothless grin. “No.”

Kate rose. “Do we want to do something?”

He glanced up at her.

She motioned with her hand. “So we have something to do other than trying to think of something to say.”

He looked at Trisha. “What would you like to do?”

She glanced down shyly. Kate stooped in front of her. “Why don’t you take your dad to the family room and have a tea party?”

Excitement filled her eyes. She nodded and led him down the hall, into a family room that was neat as a pin except for toys littering the brown tweed sofa and chair. A red plastic child-sized table sat in the center of the room. Dolls and stuffed animals sat on the yellow, blue and green chairs surrounding it.

Trisha plucked the toys from their seats and tossed them to the sofa before she pointed at one of the chairs. “You sit here.”

He peered down at the little plastic chair.

But before he could say anything, Kate said, “Maybe Daddy’s too big for a chair?”

That blasted, unwanted anger surged in Max again. “You don’t need to answer for me. You’ve made enough of my decisions to last a lifetime.”

Kate faced him, eyebrows arched as if asking if he really wanted to get into that fight now, and he immediately regretted saying anything. Especially in front of Trisha.

He backpedaled. “It’s just that the chair looks sturdy enough.” And he could also keep his weight shifted in such a way he wouldn’t put too much stress on it. He smiled at Trisha. “It’s fine.” And back at Kate. “I’ll be fine.”

Carefully, he lowered himself to the colorful chair and sighed gratefully when it held his weight. Though his knees were taller than the table and he felt like a giant, he was seated.

Trisha held out her teapot to her mom. “Can we have some tea?”

Kate took the pot. “Sure. I’ll get you some more cookies too.”

While she was gone, Trisha kept her attention on arranging little cups and saucers. “This is my snack.”

“Your snack?”

She almost looked at him. “My afternoon snack.”

“Oh.” He got it now. “So you’re not getting extra cookies.”

She glanced up. Actually looked at him this time. “Too much sugar isn’t good for me.”

He laughed, recognizing she’d probably repeated verbatim what she’d been told by her mom.

He made himself a little more comfortable on the chair. Trisha finally sat. Thirty seconds went by with neither of them saying a word. Panic filled him, along with the fear of total inadequacy. How did a man parent a child he was only now meeting?

Kate walked into the room carrying the teapot and a small plate with three cookies. She’d tucked her dark hair behind her ears, revealing the slim column of her throat. His gaze fell from her throat to her T-shirt, which perfectly outlined her breasts, to the trim line of her tummy exposed above the waistband of her jeans. His breath stuttered. His attraction to her sprang up like a lion that had been lying in wait in the African bush, confusing him. How could he be so damned attracted to a woman he was so damned angry with?

“One cookie for you. Two for your dad.”

Trisha sighed. “Because he’s bigger.”

“Exactly.”

She offered the plate of cookies to him, standing close enough that he could smell her cologne.

Telling himself he’d better get accustomed to being around her or he’d drive himself crazy, he took a cookie from the tray. “No cookie for you?”

She walked away and began gathering the toys from the sofa. “Not hungry. Besides, this isn’t my party. It’s yours. With your daughter. Enjoy it.”

Panic swamped him again. Unwanted attraction be damned. He needed Kate and she was deserting him.

Trisha poured the “tea.” Wary of the cleanliness of the plastic cup and whatever was inside, he cast Kate a questioning look. “Am I allowed to ask when these little cups were last washed?”

She laughed lightly. “We wash the tea set every time she uses it. It’s clean.”

Still cautious, he took a sip and discovered the drink was actually a grape punch of some sort. Dark enough to look like tea, but not really tea. “It’s good.”

“It’s the queen’s favorite.”

He glanced at Trisha. “The queen?”

Trisha pointed to an empty chair. “The queen comes to everyone’s tea parties.”

So out of his element he had no clue what to say or do, he again looked to Kate. But she was busy gathering toys. Either not paying attention or deliberately forcing him to figure out something to say. With her arms full, he expected her to walk to a toy box, but there was no box. Instead, she stacked the toys in an empty corner.

It suddenly occurred to him that she lived somewhere else. Somewhere so far away they’d never even accidentally bumped into each other. And she didn’t visit. So how did Trisha have toys here?

He knocked on the plastic table. “Are these new?”

Kate said, “Bought them our second day here. Trisha and I both needed a distraction.”

Remembering her dad’s stroke, sorrow unexpectedly swamped him. “I … um … I really am sorry about your dad.”

“He’ll be fine, but no one’s sure how long he’ll be in the hospital.” She reached for another toy. “So I took a three-month leave of absence so we can be here for Mom. That’s a long time to be away from home, and a little girl’s gotta be entertained, so we bought some stuff.”

He blinked, taking all that in. “You’ll be here three months?”

She picked up another toy. “Yep.”

They’d be here three months. He had time. Blessed, blessed time. But he also understood why Kate believed Trisha would need to be entertained. And maybe that could be his avenue to getting visits alone with her. If he could take her while Kate was busy with her father, he could be a savior of sorts, not an interruption.

“You know, if there’s ever a time when you can’t take her with you to the hospital or whatever, I’d be happy to clear my schedule and babysit.”

She peered at him. “Thanks. But we already agreed that I’d be with you when you visited Trisha.”

He should have known that wouldn’t work. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something to prove he would be there for them. “Is there anything else she needs?”

Kate turned. “She’s right there in front of you. Ask her.”

Annoyance skittered through him. He was trying to be nice and she was snippy? If he was inept in this situation, it was her fault. But he kept his cool, reminded himself that he had to take the blame for Kate’s distrust and be patient. No matter how unfair it seemed to him, he still had to play by her rules.

He faced Trisha. “Is there anything you need?”

“A pony.”

Kate laughed. He shot her a look, but turned back to Trisha. Though he was brand-new at being a daddy, he wasn’t a stranger to dealing with people, negotiating, pointing out the obvious. Until he knew how to be a daddy, he’d simply use the skills he had. “There’s no barn here for a pony.”

“That’s what my mom says.”

“So is there anything you need aside from a pony?” A thought hit him and he quickly added, “Or an elephant or a snake or any other living thing.”

She giggled. “I don’t want an elephant.”

Thinking back to his brother Chance, he picked up his cup to sip again and said, “Some kids do.”

Kate had to stifle a spontaneous laugh, but just as quickly guilt pummeled her. He wouldn’t be feeling his way around parenting right now if she hadn’t left.

But he was doing okay, and the more he visited, the better he’d be. Her staying here three months would give him plenty of time to learn how to be a daddy. Especially if he visited a few times a week.

She almost groaned. Good God. A few times a week? If she insisted on being part of every visit—and she already had—she was about to spend the better part of three months with her ex-husband.

Trisha began to pretend to feed her bear. Max glanced back at Kate, then rose from his little plastic chair and walked over to her.

“I’m not sure what the protocol is here, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Though it killed her, she politely said, “You’re fine. We don’t have to be at the hospital until seven.”

“I know, but it’s just that we had a nice visit and I don’t want to spoil it by boring her.”

Familiar fear spiraled through her. “You’re ditching her?”

“Not ditching. Keeping her from disliking me because I bore her.”

She fought the instinctive anger that rose in her—remnants of the insult of always being left alone while he drank with his friends—and forced herself to be logical, not emotional. Their visit had been good, albeit short. Nice, short visits would get Trisha accustomed to him. And get him accustomed to Trisha without pushing either one of them.

“Okay.” Eager to get away from him, she walked over to the table and tapped on it to get Trisha’s attention. “Your dad is leaving now.” She picked up the teapot. “Say goodbye.”

Trisha gave him her toothless grin. “Bye.”

As goodbyes went, that left a lot to be desired. Seeing the confused look on Max’s face, Kate sucked in a breath and did what she had to do. “Give your dad a hug.”

Trisha got up from her chair and went to her father. She wrapped her arms around his legs, squeezed quickly and pulled back. “Bye.”

He closed his eyes, savoring the hug, then stooped down beside her and took her into his arms. Guilt tightened Kate’s stomach, but realism knocked it out of position. He might be a nice guy now—might—she suspected all this good behavior could be an act—but he’d ruined their marriage with his drinking. He’d forced her away. And she’d take Trisha away from him again in a heartbeat if he started drinking.

“Bye.” He rose and left. Quickly and quietly.

Relieved that he was gone, Kate carried the dishes out to the kitchen where her mom was wiping down a countertop. Trisha skipped in after her.

Sliding onto a chair by the table she said, “I liked him.”

Kate and her mom exchanged a glance, and Bev said, “Yeah. He’s a peach.”

Trisha giggled. “He’s not a peach. Peaches are fruit.” She grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table and skipped out of the room.

Kate’s mom rounded on her. “So?”

“So, what?”

“So do you think you appeased him? Is he going to do something like file for custody?”

Kate slumped against the sink. “With Trisha around, we didn’t really have time to talk about anything.”

“Oh, Katie! That was the whole point of the visit. Making him happy enough that he didn’t go to court.” She sighed and turned back to the sink. “I think you’re going to have to go talk to him.”

Even the thought made her stomach jump. She didn’t want to see him. But if she didn’t pin him down, he could easily pick up a phone, an entire staff of lawyers would be drafting motions and she could potentially lose control. At least this way, she called the shots. She would say when Trisha saw him. And she also would stay with them while he visited.

Slim as it was, she had an upper hand and she had to keep it.




CHAPTER THREE


MAX LEFT THE HOUSE with tears in his eyes. His first hug from his daughter had been quick, almost an afterthought. One of the biggest moments of his life had been treated as an afterthought.

He sucked in a breath, forcing himself to face some realities. Though it was momentous for him, it might have actually been scary for a little girl to hug a man who was a virtual stranger. So he couldn’t be angry that Kate had seemed flip about asking Trisha to hug him. She might have done it for Trisha’s sake. He had to take it in stride.

But so many things whirled around in his head. Anger with himself for ruining his marriage, his entire life for so many years. The desire to be angry with Kate. The argument that he couldn’t be angry with Kate. The sure knowledge that he had to take responsibility. His head was so full of thoughts and his heart so full of emotion that he wasn’t even sure if he was right or wrong.

Walking to the Range Rover, he grabbed his cell phone and hit speed dial.

His personal secretary answered. “Hey, boss.”

“I’m not coming back this afternoon.”

Silence. Annette was the only person who knew where he’d been—knew about Trisha.

“Is everything okay?”

“Peachy.”

“It doesn’t sound peachy.”

Forty-five, with four kids of varying ages, Annette was wise beyond her years. She was also someone he trusted.

“I need to think some of this through.”

“The talk with your wife didn’t go so well?”

Talk? They’d barely spoken, and when they had, an argument had always huddled just below the surface. He drew in a breath. “We didn’t shout.”

“Well, that’s a start.”

He laughed.

“Look, it’s Friday afternoon anyway. You haven’t had a day off in probably a decade. I’ll hold down the fort.”

He opened the door of the Range Rover. “Why don’t you go home, too?”

“Hey, you don’t have to ask me twice.”

With that she clicked off and Max drove home. He walked into his silent foyer and stopped as memories flooded him. When he and Kate were first married, she would greet him at the door. Sometimes naked. He shook his head. They had been so in love it was hard to fathom that they could barely hold a conversation now.

Walking toward the kitchen, he was grateful that his housekeeper was gone for the day. With his mom in Houston visiting friends, he didn’t have to worry about interruptions or having to make small talk—or having to tell her she had a granddaughter she didn’t know about.

He winced. That conversation was not going to be pretty. His mom would either explode with anger or melt into a puddle of emotion. And he’d have to remind her that Kate had had good reason to leave. Just as if it were eight years ago, he was back to facing the consequences of his drinking.

He walked to the master bedroom. It was the one room he had changed after he’d sobered up. He couldn’t handle the memories. Not just making love, but the arguments. Arguments he’d caused. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear Kate begging him to stop drinking, hear his own arrogant proclamations that he was fine. What an idiot he’d been.

He quickly changed into swimming trunks and made his way to the pool. He dived in with a resounding splash and surfaced, spraying water everywhere when he shook his head from side to side.

“Hey.”

Kate’s voice surprised him and his heart jumped. He spun around. “Hey.”

She took a few steps closer to the pool. “I … We never talked about visitation. About when you’d see her again.” She paused, smiled weakly. “When I called your office, Annette told me you’d gone home.” Her smile became genuine. “It’s nice that she still works for you.”

He cautiously headed for the ladder. Seeing Kate by the pool brought another cascade of memories. Mostly because she hadn’t changed physically; she looked the same. She sounded the same. It was as if she hadn’t ever gone away. As if he still had the right to take her in his arms and kiss her.

His heart pitter-pattered. Not because she’d probably deck him if he tried, but from an unexpected burst of longing. He hadn’t ever really gotten over her, just told himself to forget her because he’d driven her away. Now that she was back, he had an entire marriage full of memories and emotions surfacing, confusing him.

“Visitation?”

“More like planning your next time with Trisha.”

He took a step toward her.

She took a step back. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, I thought you might have time to see her again.”

“I’ll make time.”

She smiled tentatively. “That’s great.”

He could see her in the green bikini. Remember the sun shimmering off her hair. Remember her giggle.

“Is one o’clock too early tomorrow?”

“No. I’ll drive Mom to the hospital around noon. Trish and I will be back by one.”

He nodded.

She gestured vaguely toward the driveway. “Guess I’ll go.”

Don’t let her go!

Yearning surged up in him. Not for a kiss or sex or even a chance to flirt. Just the opportunity to be with her. To see how she’d been. See who she was now that eight years had gone by. Just to be in her company again. “Or you could stay and we could talk about some things.”

She shielded her eyes from the sun. “We do have some things to resolve.”

“Like child support. I haven’t paid a cent in eight years. I’m guessing I owe you a bundle.”

“I think I forfeited that when I left.”

“I don’t.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried. I just … I just …” He combed his fingers through his hair. “I want to know things about Trisha.” And hear the sound of your voice while you talk. “Things like her favorite foods. Her favorite teacher. What she doesn’t like.” And hear the lilt in your voice when you talk about her.

“She’s a normal little girl. There’s not much to say.”

He directed her to the French doors that led to the family room. “You can tell me about her first tooth. Her first words.”

Guilt tightened Kate’s stomach again. Without being accusatory, he’d reminded her that he’d missed some important milestones in their child’s life.

Could she blame him for wanting to know?

Could she deny him?

No. Not only was telling him about their daughter fair, but it might also ease some of the tension of the next day’s visit and maybe even prevent him from running to his lawyers. She didn’t want to make friends with him, but she did have to deal with him. A good conversation might go a long way to fixing their awkwardness. “Sure.”

He opened the door and motioned for her to enter first. When she saw the family room was the same as she’d decorated it, a symphony of butterflies took flight in her stomach. He might not have wanted to do the work required to change the green granite fireplace and hardwood floors. But why keep a sofa and chairs that could have been replaced long ago? Why keep her knickknacks? The art she’d chosen?

He walked toward the kitchen of the open-floor-plan downstairs. “Iced tea?”

“Yes. Thanks.” She’d need something to swallow the lump of emotion clogging her throat. She remembered the first time they’d stepped into this house, when it was little more than framework and plywood. They’d bought it new, not yet complete, so they could put their stamp on it.

She brushed her hand along a white wood chair rail, lovingly caressed the drum shade of a lamp.

He handed her a glass of iced tea.

“Thanks.” She looked up, caught his gaze, and her stomach plummeted to the floor. It was like thirteen years ago, when he was young and sweet and not pressured by the business or his family. Her chest tingled. Her already weak knees liquefied.

Oh, surely she wasn’t going to let herself be attracted to him?

He motioned for her to sit on the chair and he sat on the sofa in his wet trunks. “So start with her birthday.” He grimaced. “I guess I’d like to know what day she was born. Were there any complications?” He caught her gaze. “Were you okay?”

The concern in his voice brought back her feeling of connection to him, the younger him, the guy who’d loved her. She swallowed, fighting it. “I was fine. It was a normal pregnancy.” She smiled wistfully. “She was born on July 27 after about eighteen hours of labor.”

He sat back. “Ouch.”

She batted a hand. “It was normal. Nothing every other woman in the world doesn’t go through.” A thought struck her. “I have pictures.”

He sat up. “You do?”

“What mother doesn’t?”

With a laugh, she flipped through her wallet to find the pictures she carried of Trisha. Luckily, she was packrat enough to have kept every special-event picture she had, even the infant photo from the hospital.

Sitting beside him on the sofa, she presented the wallet displaying the pictures. “Here’s her first picture.”

He laughed. “She looks like a prune.”

“That’s from floating around in amniotic fluid for nine months.” She flipped to the next picture, the one taken at a studio when Trisha was three months old. “This one’s better.”

He sighed an “Ah,” and said, “She was adorable.”

Hearing the emotion in his voice, she slid the picture from its wallet slot. “You can have this one.”

His gaze shot to hers. “I can?”

She quickly looked away. “Sure. I have lots of photos that I can send you.”

“I—” He swallowed. “Thanks.”

She felt the weird vibe again. She’d hated this man, feared him for so long that she’d kept his child from him. And now here they were sitting together, talking like normal people, when inside he probably disliked her as much for keeping Trisha from him as she disliked him for ruining their marriage.

She handed him her wallet and rose from the sofa, getting away from him. “The next six or eight pictures are Trisha. Just go ahead and flip through.”

He did as she asked, pausing over every picture in the wallet, intensifying her guilt. Especially since she was standing in the house where she’d loved him. Where they’d been so happy.

But a quick glance at the window sliced through all her good memories and brought her back to reality. He’d broken that window the night she’d left. She hadn’t been wrong to run. She might have been able to stay if she’d only had herself to think about. But she’d had a baby. An unborn bundle of joy. And he had been escalating. His behavior got worse every day. She’d done the right thing.

After a minute, he handed the wallet back to her. “Those are—” He sucked in a breath. “I can’t even describe what I feel.”

She brusquely took the wallet. Shoved it into her purse. Ready to head for the door, she said, “I’ll send you my extra photos. I’ll make sure I get one from every stage of her life so far.”

Before she could even turn to make her escape, he said, “How about her teeth? I notice two of them are missing.”

She hesitated. The door beckoned. But in the end, she turned around. She owed him at least one conversation to catch him up on what he’d missed.

“She lost those last month. Together.” She gingerly sat on the chair again. “It scared her to death, but when the tooth fairy put a twenty-dollar bill under her pillow she got over it.”

He chuckled. The deep, rich sound brought back a happy memory of him lifting her off her feet and twirling her around as he laughed. Sadness rattled through her. She hadn’t thought of that in eight years.

She hadn’t thought any good thing about him in eight years—probably longer. All the memories of their love had been blackened by memories of his drinking. In a sense, their good times had been stolen from her. But here in this house, with sober Max, they were coming back to her. And, oh, how she’d missed those.

She glanced around again, her heart in her throat. Remembering those wonderful things from the beginning of their marriage might be risky, but she didn’t care. Just for ten minutes, she wanted to be reminded that she hadn’t been an idiot who’d fallen for a drunk, but a normal girl who’d fallen for a wonderful guy.

“The tooth fairy, huh?”

Knocked out of her reverie, she faced him again. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure she knows it’s me who leaves the money, but she’s okay with it.”

“I guess she no longer believes in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, that kind of stuff.”

“No. You missed those.”

She’d meant that to sound flippant and fun. Instead, when the words left her mouth the room became silent.

And stayed silent so long that she couldn’t take it anymore. The big elephant in the room was that he might have been a drunk, but she’d hidden his child from him. She’d had good reason. Tons of good reasons. But could a woman really keep a child from her father without at least a little remorse? A sense of responsibility for hurting him, no matter how bad a husband he’d been?

“I’m sorry.”

He glanced up sharply, caught her gaze. “For what?”

“For hurting you by keeping Trisha from you.”

“You did what you had to do.”

Relief saturated her. “You accept that?”

“I have to.”

“Part of twelve steps?”

“In a roundabout way.”

He was so calm. So accepting. So different.

Confused, she scooped her glass of iced tea from the coffee table. He genuinely seemed committed. And that could be nothing but good for Trisha. But it also intensified her guilt.

“So,” he said, obviously changing the subject. “I noticed she had a lot of dolls.”

“Most little girls do.”

“Going to be weird for me to insinuate myself into her life.”

Since he was trying and she was tired of feeling guilty, maybe she should just do what he was doing—pretend nothing was wrong? “I’ll help you.”

“That’d be great.”

He smiled a genuine smile and her heart swelled with longing as her brain filled with memories of him before he’d started drinking, when he was young, happy, downright silly sometimes.

The conversation died again. She glanced around at the room she’d decorated and looked beyond it to her kitchen, her living room. Even the foyer tables, lamps and art that were her choices.

He’d loved her. He’d loved her enough to give her a free hand and then enjoy what she’d chosen. They’d been so happy—

Tears blurred her eyes and she bounced out of her seat. “You know what? I’ve gotta go.”

He rose. “Okay.”

She raced toward the French doors. Damn him for being so accommodating! So nice. So easygoing now. Now, when it didn’t matter. Now, when there was no going back.

The sense of loss swelled in her. Halfway to the doors, she spun around. “You ruined it.”

He didn’t even attempt to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. “I know.”

“We had it all! Everything other couples longed for. Money. A house. A great sex life. Laughter. And you threw it all away!”

“Why do you think I quit drinking? Because I know that! At first when you left, I was so lonely and miserable that I drank more. Then one day it hit me that I’d done this to myself—” He blew his breath out on a sigh. “I’d done this to us. And that’s when I went to AA.”

The last thing she wanted to hear was that he’d quit drinking because he knew that was why he’d lost her. It hurt too much. The tears on her eyelids threatened to spill over and she tightened her jaw.

“I also know I’ve had seven years to get past a lot of stuff that you’re just facing now.”

His voice was soft, apologetic. But that only made it worse. Her tears teetered on the edges of her eyelids, then tumbled onto her cheeks.

She pivoted and raced to the door. She had to get the hell out of here.

“Kate, don’t.”

She stopped, her hand on the doorknob. “Don’t what? Don’t leave? Don’t care?”

“It doesn’t do any good to put yourself through the mess of remembering everything every time you see me. It’s over. It’s done. We might have lost us, but we have a daughter. And that’s something wonderful for me. So don’t go back in time wishing for what could have been. Just help me deal with today.”

Her chin wobbled with the effort not to sob. He’d had so much time to get over this that it almost seemed as if he had no emotion about their lost marriage.

But she did.

And it hurt.

Damn it. It hurt.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she yanked open the door. “Sure. Fine. You can come by again tomorrow at one.”




CHAPTER FOUR


SATURDAY MAX ARRIVED at the Hunter residence with a gift. A small doll. He’d called Annette and she’d told him little girls usually liked fashion dolls that they could dress up. So he’d gone to a toy store and purchased one, along with several outfits.

He wasn’t trying to buy Trisha’s affection, but he did think the doll would give them something to talk about.

He rang the front-door bell and waited, tensing, for what he wasn’t sure. Things hadn’t gone so well with Kate the day before. He could see her struggle. How fair was it that one day he decided never to drink again, asked for forgiveness and just moved on? It didn’t help that he was sorry. Sorry didn’t take away the pain. Or fix the memories. All he could offer her was the advice to move on.

From the alcoholic who’d hurt her, it was probably small comfort.

Realizing a few minutes had gone by, he rang the bell again. No one came. He frowned and walked to the edge of the porch. Leaning around, he saw no car in the driveway. She’d said she had to take her mom to the hospital at noon. Maybe she’d gotten hung up?

He didn’t even have her cell phone number to call her. And after the way she’d left the day before, he didn’t really feel comfortable asking for it.

So many things to work out. And none of it was going to be easy. But because they had a child, she was forced back into his life. Now she was struggling to forgive him and he was struggling with a pointless attraction.

He glanced around again, accepting that she wasn’t home and not sure what to do. Finally, he lowered himself to the swing. With one foot, he set it in motion. The temptation was strong to close his eyes and remember …

Kissing her soft sweet lips.

Longing for her to say the right words on hot summer nights when she was home for school vacation so he could seduce her—





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