Authors: Rita Herron
"Hey, bud, come outside with me. I could use a good helper." Chase scooped up the child and shifted him for a piggyback ride. "I have a bunch of scrap wood and some tools. You could build something while your mama finishes in here."
Jake clasped his arms around Chase's neck. "Can I, Mom?"
Nora rolled her eyes. "Sure, why not. Then maybe I can get something done."
Maddie caught the disapproval on Chase's face and the disappointment on Jake's and realized the woman had once again ignored her son the entire time they'd been there. Chase had been right, the boy simply needed some attention. Or maybe some parenting. He would probably be a different little boy if Nora spent time with him.
Judging from Chase's reaction to the boy, he'd make a good father. But what kind of mother would she make?
She'd heard kids were a lot like animals. Her cat had certainly changed since Maddie had taken him in. When she'd first found him, he'd been mangy and injured and too frightened to let her even touch him.
He'd been hiding in the bushes by her house, mewling and crying, starved and hurt. Was that how Chase had felt when he was little and his mother had abandoned him?
Maddie remembered how long it had taken her to win T. C.'s trust—she'd set out food daily, and had waited until he was ready to accept her touch. It had taken more than three months for him to warm to her, but each day he'd inched a little closer until one day he'd stopped to sniff her feet, and he'd actually let her touch him. From then on, he'd been beside her every minute. Her love and patience had won his devotion. And it had all been worth it.
If she was patient, would Chase learn to trust her someday, too?
Chapter 16
Chase watched Jake hammer the two pieces of wood together, grateful he'd suggested the idea when he saw the excitement on the little boy's face. Where was the child's father? Jake acted as if he'd never been around a man. Did he ever spend time with his dad?
Not that he had any right to judge. He hadn't seen his own dad since he was two. He didn't even remember what he looked like.
"It's an airplane," Jake said, proudly holding up the simple structure. "Thank you, Mr. Hawoway."
"You're certainly welcome, sport."
Jake suddenly threw his arms around Chase and hugged his leg. "You're the bestest."
For a brief moment, Jake's face faded and another child's face slid into view—a little boy who looked up at him with admiring eyes and called him Daddy. A glimpse of a little boy with russet-colored hair and big brown eyes like... Maddie's?
He shook himself, jerking his thoughts back to reality. He wasn't husband or father material. His own family had taught him that. Maddie must know it as well.
"Look, it can fly." Jake took off running, holding the crude plane above his shoulders as he made flying sounds. "Up, up and away."
"You're a good builder," Chase said, remembering the first time he'd hammered two pieces of wood together in a similar fashion—the day Lance had let him tag along with him and Reid behind their house. The boys had built planes. Then their imaginations had taken over, and they'd formed the club, The Terrible Three. The following week they'd built a clubhouse for themselves and used it to hold their club meetings. Of course, Maddie had often begged to join them, but her brothers had excluded her, claiming the club was for boys only. Years later, they discovered Maddie had sneaked in and hidden behind one of the wooden boxes and listened to almost everything they'd said.
Precocious, pigtailed, knobby-kneed Maddie—who'd grown up to be the sexiest woman in Savannah.
"I wanna build somefin' else," Jake said. "How about a machine gun?"
"No, no guns," Chase said, glancing up when he noticed a shadow behind him. Maddie and Nora had emerged from the house, laughing and chatting.
"Look, Mommy, see what Mr. Hawoway helped me build."
Nora barely glanced at the boy's creation. "That's nice. We need to go, Jake."
Once again Jake's smile drooped.
Maddie paused and ruffled Jake's hair. "Good job, there."
Jake's little chest puffed up with pride. "Can I come and play with you again sometime, Mr. Hawoway? I'm going to ask for a tool set for my birfday."
"Sure." Chase shifted uncomfortably when he noticed Maddie watching him. But when Jake threw his arms around him again, he knelt and patted his back. "See you later, sport."
Nora and Jake climbed in the car, Jake hugging his new toy tightly. Maddie walked over beside him. Dusk had started to settle, the faint purple and orange lines of the sun streaking the sky with an ethereal glow, highlighting her oval face.
"That was really nice of you to take time with him, Chase. We accomplished a lot."
He shrugged. "He's not such a bad kid."
"I know," Maddie said gently. "Nora really should leave him with a sitter or a play group while we meet."
Chase nodded agreement. Their gazes locked, and he wondered what she was thinking, if she remembered how scraggly and homely he'd looked when he'd tagged along behind her brothers. If she remembered the names the other kids had called him. The image of that little boy's face,
his
son's face, flitted through his mind though, and his heart squeezed in his chest.
"I saw you helping him; you were so patient. Chase," Maddie said. "You'd make a good father someday."
Chase fisted his hands by his side. How could he when he had no example to follow? And how could he have a kid and let him grow up in his tainted image? How could he tell his son his grandpa was in jail for murder?
No, he was never getting married.
He was a bachelor forever.
"I'm not ever having kids," he said. Before the image of that little boy could return to haunt him or Maddie could reply, he turned, stalked to his truck and drove away.
* * *
Maddie watched Chase drive away and dug her heel in the dirt. Chase's truck roared out of the subdivision, lights flickering in the distance like twin dots growing smaller and smaller until they disappeared out of sight.
Chase had looked so damn lost and lonely for a minute, like he needed someone to wrap her arms around him and cuddle him and love him forever. She'd been tempted to fill the bill, but she'd also seen that shuttered look in his eyes, that untouchable warning sign that flashed caution—stay away. So she'd held herself back, played it safe. Something Maddie had never been known to do in her life.
Or had she?
Hadn't she stayed with Jeff to be cautious, to please her brothers and her mother?
She was starting to sound melodramatic, she realized, the same way she had as a teen when she'd gotten hooked on soap operas. Acting—another career she'd wanted to try. No wonder her brothers hadn't believed she'd follow through with this decorating career. But she would show them.
Chase was a different story.
He thinks of you as a sister. And he's never going to come around. Even if he did, you aren't the person he'd turn to—he's too loyal to your big, dumb brothers.
Determined to forget Chase, she climbed in her van and headed toward town to meet with the curator she'd consigned to locate some hard-to-find antiques for the tour. According to her notepad, she needed to check on several houses to see if the painting was finished, the carpeting laid, the wallpaper complete. Next she'd check to see if the furniture she'd custom-ordered was ready for delivery. Chase's house was first on the list. Since he wanted simple furnishings and clean living space, his house had been easy to furnish and decorate. If things went as scheduled, she'd have it finished before the end of the week. A sudden idea for his study hit her and she quickly tried to figure out how to put her plan together. A surprise she had a feeling Chase would like. Something personal for his office.
She frowned. Good heavens—there she was doing it again. Thinking about Chase Holloway.
Oh, well, it's okay this time,
she decided. She wasn't really thinking about
him.
She was simply doing her job—decorating his house. And soon, when the tour was complete, she could go her own way with her business, and they would never have to work together again. Then everyone would be a whole lot happier.
She blinked, irritated that her eyes were suddenly watering. What in the world was wrong with her? She must be getting sappy at the thought of the project being complete, all the excitement was making her sentimental. Her tears certainly had nothing to do with Chase Holloway and the fact that soon he would no longer be a part of her life, except as her brothers' best friend.
* * *
Lance rubbed a calloused hand over his forehead, still reeling from the day's problems as he settled into the armchair in his bedroom to rest. Why the hell couldn't something go right on this project?
Today the real-estate agent manning the front office had quit, he'd discovered low-quality materials had been sent in place of the expensive wood he'd ordered, and two of the near-completed houses had suffered water damage from hot-water heaters that had burst in the night. The carpet, which had just been laid the day before, would all have to be replaced as well as the wallpaper Maddie had just had hung. And his company would eat the money. It seemed they were either jinxed or doomed to miss their deadlines, and the tour was creeping up on them. Could their problems be a fluke or was something else happening? Sophie's talk of ghosts flitted through his head. Maybe the project was haunted.
Really, he must be losing it.
His hand fell on the wooden box he'd found in his father's things, and he grimaced, deciding he might as well open it and see what he had to deal with. When Maddie had moved into her own apartment, she'd plowed through the attic of their old home, searching for some old folk art for her new apartment. The pieces she'd selected were so garish, no wonder he doubted her judgment as a decorator. While helping her search through their parents' belongings, he'd discovered some interesting things as well. Things that had shocked him. The letters from Maria. The catalog. And this box. The box he'd avoided opening until now.
With sweating fingers, he jammed the key inside the lock and slowly lifted the lid. His eyes widened at the sight inside. An assortment of
Playboy
magazines. No big surprise. His dad had been a healthy male, albeit a respectable doctor. But he'd been young once.
Bottles of body gel in fluorescent colors. Scented, edible undies?
Sweat pooled on his forehead and rolled down his jaw.
A black silk mask. Feathers. A red silk jock strap with a picture of a devil on the crotch. A book of naughty sex games. A video entitled
Deep Throat and Peter the Pumpkin-Eater.
Jesus, what was his father doing with all this... this stuff? Had he been into weird, kinky sex with this woman Maria?
The phone rang, and he nearly jumped out of his seat. He slammed the box lid and stared at it guiltily.
The noise trilled again, and he contemplated letting it ring. But he remembered all his problems at work and reached for the handset, knowing if something had gone wrong that required his immediate attention, he couldn't ignore it. "Hello."
"Hey, there."
Sophie Lane's sultry voice spilled over the line. What the hell did she want? He dropped the box on the floor, shuddering when the top flew off and a vibrator rolled across the floor. He jerked up the plastic dildo, locked it in the box and quickly shoved the offensive treasure chest out of sight, unable to imagine his father with the sex toys.
"Lance?"
"Yeah?"
"I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?"
No, he was just holding a long plastic penis. And she sounded so innocent.
"It's been a long day."
"Problems at work?"
How would she know about his problems? "Sort of."
He raised up, trying to think of a reason, a connection, but couldn't come up with anything to link Sophie to his bad luck. Unless the show was doing some kind of
Candid Camera
thing...
"Lance, if I'm disturbing you, I can call back."
"No, what made you ask if I had problems?"
"The sound of your voice." She paused, her tone mellow, her breathing like a soft, feathery whisper over the line. "You sound tired, like you've had a long day."
"Building requires long hours," he said curtly.
"Well, then I won't bother you."
Curiosity got the best of him. Or maybe it was her sexy voice. And the fact that she sounded slightly hurt at his dismissal. "No, it's okay. What can I do for you?"
"I wanted us to get together to discuss the renovations for my house."
"Oh, yeah." He grabbed a pencil and looked at his calendar. "What day did you have in mind?" A month from now? No, a year would be better. When this whole project was over and he'd figured out what to do about his family life. And when he'd demolished that damn box.
"How about tomorrow night over dinner?" Sophie asked.
"Why not tonight?" Lance said, wanting to find out what she was up to.
Light laughter tinkled back. "I can't tonight. I'm already ready for bed."