Mad About Max. Penny McCusker

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      Chapter Two

      “Hi, Dad!”

      Max shouldered the fifty-pound sack of grain he’d been about to load into the back of his pickup and turned toward the entrance of the feed store to see Joey running in his direction. Sara stood in the open doorway, one hand on the jamb, the other lifted to shade her eyes from the bright sunshine so she could see into the dim interior.

      Joey was halfway across the cavernous space when he veered off suddenly, like a heat-seeking missile. Only in Joey’s case, it was kittens that drew him, a whole carton of them with FREE written on the side in big, bold letters.

      Just what he needed, Max thought as he bumped the sack up and off his shoulder, letting it fall onto the pile in the back of the pickup. Joey already had a hamster, three goldfish, a parakeet and two dogs, and those were the indoor pets. But even if he’d known about the kittens when he asked Sara to drop Joey off after school, Max still would’ve done it. It would be worth adding to the menagerie if he succeeded in dragging her out of her self-imposed isolation. And dragging, he figured, was exactly what it would take, considering that she was going to leave without even saying hello to him or goodbye to Joey.

      “Sara, wait,” he called before she could do more than turn around.

      For a minute it seemed she was going to pretend she hadn’t heard him. Then she turned back, stepped through the doorway and stood there, seeming about as relaxed as a sinner at the Pearly Gates.

      Max supposed he should feel sorry for her, but he wasn’t really in a sympathetic mood. Impatient was more like it, with enough confusion thrown in to remind him that Sara was a woman and when a woman was involved in any sort of relationship, a man never completely understood what was going on. He knew Sara well enough to have a pretty good idea, though.

      After one of her accidents, she usually kept a low profile, staying away from the more public places and the more vocal residents of Erskine. That had never included him before, but then, neither had one of her accidents.

      She must still be embarrassed by what had happened two weeks ago, and no wonder. It couldn’t have been pleasant for Sara to have her hips pressed to his—to find herself stuck to a man she considered a brother. And being a woman, she just naturally couldn’t let it go and forget it like he could. At least not until they got the awkward first meeting over with.

      “I’ve barely seen you in two weeks,” Max called out. “Come over and talk to me while I finish loading up.”

      But instead of reaching for the next sack, he leaned against the side of his pickup, hooked his thumbs in his front pockets and watched Sara walk across the feed store. He couldn’t resist. Even with her normally bubbly personality weighted down by embarrassment, she exuded so much energy that a person’s eyes were naturally drawn to her.

      Copper-colored curls bounced around her shoulders with every step. Her dark, lively eyes sparkled, and the corners of her mouth were lifted in the slight smile that rarely left her face. She wasn’t beautiful by the standards set for magazines or movie screens, but she had more charm and personality than any actress or model. And she was a lot more entertaining. Just watching her was a spectator sport, even on a day where the most interesting thing she did was choose what to wear.

      Today it was a flame-bright orange sweater, black tights dotted with jack-o’-lanterns—in honor of the big day coming at the end of the week—and a black skirt that flared and floated around her slender thighs and hips with every jaunty step.

      Max got a sudden, strong flash of the way those hips had felt between his palms two weeks ago, the resilient feel of her flesh where his fingers had gripped her, the warmth of all that tight, fake red leather. And then there’d been that hole she’d snipped in her skirt. He could have sworn he saw black lace through that hole.

      He dropped that memory like a mental hot potato. Thinking about Sara and black lace at the same time was just wrong.

      She belonged to the white-cotton set, that asexual group of females in every man’s life who baked cookies, stepped in to baby-sit at a moment’s notice and knew how to heal any injury with a Band-Aid and a kiss. Aside from Joey, Sara was the closest thing to a family Max had, and if there’d been a time, once, when he might have seen her in a different light, a more romantic light, he’d deep-sixed the thought before it could even begin to take hold.

      He had a dismal record when it came to love and marriage—all the men in his family did. His grandmother had died young, leaving his grandfather alone to raise a young son and run a ranch. His father and mother had called it quits before they’d been married ten years, and his own marriage had lasted substantially less time. Instead of heeding the lessons he’d learned by example, Max had been young and foolish enough to try the “love conquers all” route. The only thing love conquered, he’d learned, was any man by the name of Devlin.

      At least, Joey didn’t have to be shuttled from household to household, like he’d been. Julia, his ex-wife, hadn’t asked for anything from their marriage but her freedom. She’d wanted Hollywood, she had the looks for it, and Lord knows she’d done a damned good job acting like a wife and mother during their few years together.

      No, that wasn’t entirely fair. They’d wanted different things, he and Julia, and she’d loved him once, enough to give him a son. For that alone he would never regret his marriage. And regardless of the terms of their divorce, she did her best by Joey, visiting when she could, occasionally calling him on the phone and having him out to stay with her in the summer, no matter what she had to do to swing it. Usually, though, it was just father and son. The same as it had always been in his family.

      A man with that kind of sorry history had no right getting involved with any woman, let alone the settling kind like Sara. She deserved someone who could come to her fresh and loving, and give her the home and family she deserved.

      It was just a matter of time before some lucky guy whisked her off to the altar and out of his life. When that day came, Max would be the first to congratulate her and wish her well. When that day came…

      Frowning, he tore his eyes off her and bent to lift another sack of grain. But he knew when she stopped behind him, even before he caught a faint whiff of her perfume. “Where are you off to—” he paused to launch the sack off his shoulder and into the truck “—in such a hurry that you can’t even say hi to a friend?”

      “Groceries,” she said. “It was either the diner or the market, and at least at the market I can stock up so I won’t have to eat out. Or shop again for a while.”

      Anything to stay out of town until the hubbub blew over, Max interpreted, and had to hide his grin before he turned to face her. It was good to hear her sounding like her old self again. “You could always go out on the range and catch yourself a steer.”

      She shook her head, the corners of her mouth curving up into a reluctant grin. “As long as they stay out of town, they’re safe from me.”

      “Now that’s not strictly true, СКАЧАТЬ