Mr. August (9 page)

Max raised his eyebrows.

“Gently, Gretch’. This is Rory. And no, he doesn’t bite but if you squeeze him too tight he might bark to let you know you’re hurting him.”

Gretchen held him up so she could rub noses with him. “I love him, Aunt Libby.”

“Uh-oh,” Libby laughed.

Max had no idea what to expect when he walked into Steph’s house. He was happy to find a beautiful, bouncy blonde with raggedy jeans and a holey t-shirt. She was smiling even though she had a wad of rags soaked with red stuff in one hand and a bottle of rug cleaner in the other.

Steph embraced Libby like they hadn’t seen each other in forever, while locking her radar on Max. She cocked an eyebrow over Libby’s shoulder. “So you’re the guy who fell in the lake.”

“Stephhh,” Libby warned.

Steph shrugged. “No use beating around the bush.” She tossed the cleaner and cloths on a lamp table and wrapped an arm around Max’s waist to blink up at him. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Libby rolled her eyes and Max finally laughed. He loved this side of Libby—at ease with the kids and slightly embarrassed that she’d discussed him with her best friend. Maybe the trip to Columbus wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Mom, meet Rory.” Gretchen clutched the dog like she was in charge of his care.

“He’s adorable.” Steph looked at Max. “The dog, I mean.” She cackled like she’d made a funny. Jimmy let out a wail that Gretchen was hogging the dog. Steph rolled her eyes. “Put the dog down and let him get to know all of you. Poor thing is probably scared to death.”

“He’s not used to kids but I think he can hold his own,” Max said. “Just don’t use him for a football or anything and he’ll be fine.”

“I need a cup of tea.” Libby sauntered to the kitchen ahead of Max and Steph.

Steph nudged Max with her shoulder. “She’s a great gal, ya know. And she thinks you’re the cat’s-ass.” She giggled and set out after Libby.

A slow smile spread across Max’s face. “Coffee?” he asked hopefully, sliding onto a stool beside Libby at the kitchen counter.

One by one the munchkins wandered into the kitchen to inspect and show off for the guy who came with Libby. Steph and Libby took the drama in stride. Max was a sponge soaking it all up.

Libby pulled Jimmy onto her lap even though he was long, lanky, and six years old. “Going to help your mom make the turkey tomorrow?”

“Nope. I’m going to help her eat it.” Jimmy hopped off Libby’s lap to chase Gretchen. Jumping and squeals could be heard coming from the living room.

Steph shook her head with acceptance. “Welcome to Chaos-Central.”

“It’s actually pretty awesome.” Max squeezed Libby’s hand.

Libby studied Max’s sudden change in disposition. If he was still worrying about his book it didn’t show.

Steph poured Max a cup of coffee. She handed Libby a piping hot cup of tea. For herself, a few splashes of cabernet.

The three fell into easy conversation, talking about the snow, the trip to Columbus, the food Steph would be serving to her relatives tomorrow, and how the kids were already nagging for the Christmas tree to be put up. Of course, Steph continued to slip back to the conversation about Max falling in the lake. Libby kicked her under the table. Steph grinned from ear to ear each time. And Libby saw it for what it was—a gentle ribbing for taking her clothes off, and also a way to get a feel for Max.

“I have a huge favor to ask.” Steph grabbed her purse from the counter. She hem-hawed like she was shy. Pfft. There was nothing shy about Stephanie Rose.

Libby gave her a pointed look.

Steph wrinkled her nose. “Could you watch the kids while I run to the market to get a few things? I had everything I needed at the beginning of the week. Since then, the kids helped themselves to all of the celery and a whole bag of croutons.” She blew out an exaggerated breath of air. “Only my rug rats would eat dry croutons like they were a bag of chips.”

Libby nudged Max with her forearm. “We’d be happy to watch them. Wouldn’t we, Max?”

“We’d love to.”

Libby made a face at Gretchen who was peeking around the corner and then took off after her.

Steph headed to the hall closet for her coat.

Max followed close behind Steph to advise her about the roads. “Are you sure you don’t want Libby and me to go to the grocery? The roads are in bad shape.” He winked. “I drove the tank.”

Steph waved off the idea. “Don’t even think about it. I need a break.” She lowered her voice. “Besides, Libby needs a kid-fix. Dan and I make sure she gets one every now and then since she’s not going to have kids of her own.”

Max did his best to keep his expression even. He helped Steph with her coat. The second she was out the door, he went ballistic without making a sound. He bashed himself for screwing up again. Why was he drawn to women who didn’t want to be bothered with a family? Son of a bitch! He wanted to kick something.

Max’s posture was stick-straight and he was flexing his hands. Libby’s gaze settled on the tense lines pleating his forehead. Hmm. Steph wasn’t even out of the driveway yet and it appeared that he’d gone back to being the grouchy, uptight Mr. August who lived next door.

Jimmy jumped at Max knocking them both sideways.

“Jimmy, seriously?” Libby hollered. “Be careful.” Her eyes connected with Max’s and she shivered from his cool wall of detachment. There was something other than frost in his expression, something indefinable and unnerving. It almost looked like…pain? Surely if he’d hurt his back or some other body part while rough-housing with the kids he would’ve said something. Maybe one of the girls hit him in the… Egad! They were the right height.

Deep down she knew it wasn’t tender body parts. There would’ve been a yelp or something to indicate he’d been wounded.

Libby tried to draw him into conversation. “Would you like a refill on your coffee?”

“No.”

Sweet. One-word answers.

The fearsome foursome climbed on Max like he was a jungle gym. He tossed them around until Libby announced it was time for a snack. She pointed to the kitchen and to a plate piled high with carrot sticks and apple slices.

For the time being, there was quiet. Even Rory was curled up in a corner, like he was trying to recharge his batteries.

Libby sidled next to Max. “What’s up?” she whispered.

“Nothing.” He moved away and grabbed an apple slice.

Oh, there was something wrong all right. Libby gave the kids instructions to eat one at a time and followed Max into the living room. “Are you still worried about your book?”

“No.”

Libby gnashed her teeth together. This was the man she’d made love to yesterday, three times. Since then she toyed with the notion that maybe Steph was right—she was in love with Max. At the moment, the possibility was dying a horrible death. She was getting angry at his sudden rejection. “Then why are you acting all pissy?”

“I’m not.”

Well, he’d moved on to two words; that was forward momentum.

Tears burned the back of her eyes. Thank goodness Jimmy caused an uproar in the kitchen by hogging the apple slices. It was enough to deter the tears she so didn’t want to come out. Libby decided to give her full attention to the four rambunctious kids instead of to tall, dark, and brooding.

“Get off the table this minute. If your mom saw you she’d have a hissy fit.” Libby gathered Jimmy in her arms, carried him into the living room, and sat him on the sofa. “Do not move,” she said with the authority vested in her by Steph.

While Jimmy sulked in time-out, she read Curious George to the other munchkins with Rory nestled between them. Then she downloaded some kids Apps to her iPad and let them play.

Libby peeked around the kitchen door at Max. He’d flipped on SportsCenter and appeared impervious to anything else.

A few minutes later, Steph barreled through the door with two full bags of groceries. She tossed Libby a box of peppermint tea. “Appreciation for giving me an hour to myself.”

“Anytime, Steph, you know that.” Libby held up the box of tea. “I so need this right now.”

Steph arched an eyebrow. “Were my kids that bad?”

“I can handle your kids any day of the week.” Libby ripped open the box of peppermint tea.

Steph crossed her arms at her chest. “PMS? Or Max?”

Libby pulled in her lips to keep from narking out Max.

“Lib?”

“He was fine until you left. Then he turned into a…” Gah! She didn’t want to trash Max.

Steph’s eyes rounded and she slowly covered her mouth with her hand. “I might have caused this,” she garbled behind her fingers.

“Huh?”

“I may have stuck my size eight shoe in my mouth.” Steph grabbed Libby by the shirtsleeve, pulled her into the utility room, and closed the door.

Jimmy knocked on the door. “What are you doing in there?”

“Go away. I’m talking to Aunt Libby.”

“Mommmm.”

Steph rolled her eyes. “I can’t get a minute’s peace. When I have to go to the bathroom I barricade the door with the trashcan and shove the rug under it so they can’t open it. Dan had to disassemble the lock since Gretch’ locked herself in there a few times.” She gave herself a visible shake. “I digress.” She put her hands on Libby’s shoulders. “Remember when you texted me this morning and said that you and Max had talked about everything under the sun last night?”

Libby nodded with a frown.

“Well, I thought everything meant everything.”

“I’m not following.”

“Crap! Max volunteered you and him to go to the market, and my brain tilted sideways. I said that I’d go because you were getting your kid-fix since you… I’m so sorry, Lib. I’m an idiot.” Steph enveloped Libby in a hug.

The burden of being infertile hurt more than Libby could have ever imagined. “No worries. Really,” Libby sniffed. She was sick to death of crying and wished her tear ducts would seal shut. “I’m sure that’s not what has Max in a funk. He’s worried about finishing his book.” They hadn’t discussed having kids, but then, why would they? Their relationship was too new to have a conversation of that magnitude. It had to be the book eating at him.

“Still, I feel awful. I shouldn’t have brought it up. Don’t be mad at me.” Steph was reduced to half-blubbering, half-choking.

Crap. She’d infected Steph with the crying bit. “I could never be mad at you.” She and Steph hadn’t had a spat since…Libby couldn’t remember the last time. “It’s time for Max and I to head to my apartment so he can get busy on his book and stop whimpering.”

“Lib, I’m truly sorry.”

Libby nudged Steph with her shoulder. “Love you, Steph.”

Steph wrapped Libby in another hug. “I love you too, woman.”

Gretchen screamed like she’d been poked with a needle. Steph took off like a bat out of hell, threatening to knock a few heads together. Rory rushed to Libby to escape the madness.

“Jimmy pulled my hair, Mom,” Gretchen said between hiccupped sobs.

Jimmy put his hands up. “It was an accident.”

Air whooshed from Steph. “That boy is the reason I drink wine.”

Libby’s gaze slid past Steph and landed on Max.
And he’s the reason I need tea
.

****

The fifteen-minute drive to Libby’s apartment was filled with dense silence. The only thing that cut into the mind-numbing quiet was the plink of an incoming text message. Libby assumed it was Steph checking up on things. To her surprise, it wasn’t Steph. Libby growled without making a sound and it took all her willpower not to shuck the cell phone out the window. Although, it wasn’t the text message that had her upset. Libby was more disturbed and hurt by Max’s behavior. How could he shut her out when twenty-four hours ago they were in the throes of passion so hot that they could’ve burned down the cabin? In a short amount of time, he’d gone from a tender, passionate lover to a cool, brooding man whose silence was making her feel as though the intimacy they’d shared had only been about sex. That hurt so much! If she was a woman who enjoyed a night of carnal bliss with no strings attached, she wouldn’t care that he was tuning her out. She wasn’t wired that way. Sex meant something; it was the ultimate gift between two people. Yes, things developed quickly between her and Max, but she knew in her heart that it wasn’t just lust. Although at the moment, she was being pricked by the possibility that she’d been wrong—about everything.

Max pulled the tank into the parking spot designated for apartment 402.

Libby waited for a few long seconds before reaching for the door handle. When Max remained quiet, she dropped her hands in her lap. “Can we talk about it?”

Rory raised up, looked from Libby to Max and hunched down as though the tension was too much for him.

Max shook his head.

He still didn’t make a move to exit the tank.

“Max,” Libby’s voice quivered with unspent hysteria, “did I hurt you in some way?”

Max lowered his head. “No.” The parking lot lights provided enough light for her to see the unyielding stiffness in his face. “Libby…” He gripped the steering wheel. “I’m not staying.”

Libby’s heart clenched. “What? You have to.” She leaned into Max’s shoulder. “Please. Talk to me.”

Max cleared his throat, and a feeling of complete and utter doom swept over Libby. “This thing…between us isn’t going to work out.”

Libby gasped, blindsided. Max was dumping her. She gave herself completely to him last night, and now he was calling it quits.

“It’s not you, Libby, it’s me.”

Libby wanted to hit Max over the head with her purse. Instead, she slouched against the seat. When a guy said “it’s not you, it’s me” he meant the opposite. It was such a stupid, cheesy, callous way of breaking up that robbed her ability to do anything except plant a kiss on Rory’s little head and climb out of the tank. Libby carefully made her way up the icy walk to the building. She would not look back. She would not watch him pull away. She would not cry. Before she slid her key card in the security slot that would gain her entrance to the building, the dam broke.

****

With each snowy mile he drove away from Libby, Max assured himself it was for the best. Libby didn’t want kids. Plain and simple. Good thing he found out before things went any farther. But the ache in his chest went deep. He cared about Libby. They were perfect for each other. Fate was a bastard though. The one thing he wanted most, would keep them apart. He wanted to say “to hell with it” and turn the tank around. But he was smart enough to know that his desire for a family would be their demise. He’d already been through one divorce because of it, and he couldn’t handle a repeat. Going their separate ways would be tough but it was the right thing to do. He’d seen Libby’s tears when he shut her out, but in time she’d forget about him and rock the fashion world with her talent. Libby needed to be Libby. If she didn’t want kids… Tears clouded his eyes. Max shook his head as though he could shake them away. Men didn’t cry. Right away he thought about his dad crying when Max graduated from college and also when he left New Hampshire for Ohio. His dad was a crier, he wasn’t. But damn, he wanted to pull to the side of Route 33 and bawl his eyes out.