forever.”
This wasn’t good, not before he actually spoke with Tasha to confirm exactly what she had in mind. “Look, I can’t talk right now, but I do want to visit with you. Soon. Let me call you tomorrow, and we’ll set up a time, okay? And don’t go telling anyone about my date yet. I’ll explain the next time I talk to you.”
Maxine shrugged. “Fine. I’ll chat with you tomorrow.” She kissed his cheek lightly, then held out a hand to Jamie. The man took her fingers in his and, without a word, waggled his brows at Junior and led her away.
Every instinct in him called for Maxwell to follow them and demand that coffee, right here, right now. And to demand that Jamie get his smirking grin and sticky fingers off his sister…but he had to let go sometime.
He stomped off across the lawn to where he’d tucked his car and pulled out cautiously, avoiding the rest of the family making their escape. It wasn’t just that he had Tasha waiting for him back at the house, it was time he let his sister make her own decisions. She wasn’t an idiot. Innocent maybe, but she was smart enough to be able to stop things that she didn’t want to happen. If Jamie got out of line, she’d been shown by a lot of the family how to physically defend herself.
It took most of the trip home to placate his guilt, but he managed, and by the time he parked next to Tasha’s fiery red Fiat, the only thing on his mind was her.
Chapter Seven
She’d opened the door carefully, walking into his house with trepidation. She felt like an interloper, someone coming in under false pretenses. She’d been in the tidy cottage before, any number of times, but never alone. Certainly never with the intent of being alone…with him.
She had to pull off her jacket, the heat that flushed her body enough to make the place rather warm. Junior had left music playing, and a rock beat pulsed through the house as she clicked on lights. For a guy’s domain, it wasn’t bad. She unashamedly snooped through the fridge, and around the living room. He didn’t even have dirty dishes in the sink. The toilet seat was up in the bathroom, but other than that, and the unmade bed, his place was probably cleaner than hers.
On the desk in the corner, she spotted a pad of paper similar to the type she used for jotting notes while designing a house. She grabbed it and a pen before curling up in the loveseat. There was no doubt in her mind anymore that she wanted to accept his offer, but she needed to make sure this was a totally rational decision.
That night at the party she’d been hit with a powerful picture of the unconditional love and support the Turners offered. The large clan was sometimes overpowering, but always entertaining, and the images of the many things she’d missed over the years flooded her heart and mind. She had no extended family anywhere in this part of the country, but she’d deliberately made her home here. Her mom was remarried, and didn’t seem to want her around. Natasha wrote a word at the top of the page, underlining it carefully. She desperately wanted to have a baby, but she needed to consider the best thing in the long run for her child.
Having a larger group of family around, including a full-time father—there was no way she could deny her child that part of an upbringing. Since she seemed to have no luck in having people love her for the long run, the temptation to make her child’s world as perfect as possible was too much to resist. She wrote quickly, all thoughts of the physical attraction between her and Maxwell pushed aside. This was too important to lose focus right now. It wasn’t about having someone permanently in her life, it was about providing for her baby.
She was concentrating so hard on her writing that when the door opened she jerked in surprise, her head shooting up to find Maxwell rapidly approaching, his coat and keys tossed haphazardly on the table. She scrambled to grab the notepad from where it had
This wasn’t good, not before he actually spoke with Tasha to confirm exactly what she had in mind. “Look, I can’t talk right now, but I do want to visit with you. Soon. Let me call you tomorrow, and we’ll set up a time, okay? And don’t go telling anyone about my date yet. I’ll explain the next time I talk to you.”
Maxine shrugged. “Fine. I’ll chat with you tomorrow.” She kissed his cheek lightly, then held out a hand to Jamie. The man took her fingers in his and, without a word, waggled his brows at Junior and led her away.
Every instinct in him called for Maxwell to follow them and demand that coffee, right here, right now. And to demand that Jamie get his smirking grin and sticky fingers off his sister…but he had to let go sometime.
He stomped off across the lawn to where he’d tucked his car and pulled out cautiously, avoiding the rest of the family making their escape. It wasn’t just that he had Tasha waiting for him back at the house, it was time he let his sister make her own decisions. She wasn’t an idiot. Innocent maybe, but she was smart enough to be able to stop things that she didn’t want to happen. If Jamie got out of line, she’d been shown by a lot of the family how to physically defend herself.
It took most of the trip home to placate his guilt, but he managed, and by the time he parked next to Tasha’s fiery red Fiat, the only thing on his mind was her.
Chapter Seven
She’d opened the door carefully, walking into his house with trepidation. She felt like an interloper, someone coming in under false pretenses. She’d been in the tidy cottage before, any number of times, but never alone. Certainly never with the intent of being alone…with him.
She had to pull off her jacket, the heat that flushed her body enough to make the place rather warm. Junior had left music playing, and a rock beat pulsed through the house as she clicked on lights. For a guy’s domain, it wasn’t bad. She unashamedly snooped through the fridge, and around the living room. He didn’t even have dirty dishes in the sink. The toilet seat was up in the bathroom, but other than that, and the unmade bed, his place was probably cleaner than hers.
On the desk in the corner, she spotted a pad of paper similar to the type she used for jotting notes while designing a house. She grabbed it and a pen before curling up in the loveseat. There was no doubt in her mind anymore that she wanted to accept his offer, but she needed to make sure this was a totally rational decision.
That night at the party she’d been hit with a powerful picture of the unconditional love and support the Turners offered. The large clan was sometimes overpowering, but always entertaining, and the images of the many things she’d missed over the years flooded her heart and mind. She had no extended family anywhere in this part of the country, but she’d deliberately made her home here. Her mom was remarried, and didn’t seem to want her around. Natasha wrote a word at the top of the page, underlining it carefully. She desperately wanted to have a baby, but she needed to consider the best thing in the long run for her child.
Having a larger group of family around, including a full-time father—there was no way she could deny her child that part of an upbringing. Since she seemed to have no luck in having people love her for the long run, the temptation to make her child’s world as perfect as possible was too much to resist. She wrote quickly, all thoughts of the physical attraction between her and Maxwell pushed aside. This was too important to lose focus right now. It wasn’t about having someone permanently in her life, it was about providing for her baby.
She was concentrating so hard on her writing that when the door opened she jerked in surprise, her head shooting up to find Maxwell rapidly approaching, his coat and keys tossed haphazardly on the table. She scrambled to grab the notepad from where it had
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