Without a Net (12 page)

“No.”
She flashed back to her last visit with her gynecologist. He’d offered a prescription. Like an idiot, she’d turned him down. Thinking the bitter experience with Roger had inoculated her against any involvement with men, at least in the foreseeable future. And now here she was. Not impregnable after all. She frowned. “My husband died six months ago. And before that…we hadn’t slept together in a while.”

Max didn’t seem particularly upset or worried by the news.
He took his time getting dressed. “When was your last period?”

“I don’t know.” She watched as he zipped his
pants, unable to look away despite the resentment percolating inside her. “I can’t remember.”

“That long?”

“This isn’t a joke, damn it.”

He nodded.
“I know. But it’s not the end of the world either.”

“Fine for you to say,” she retorted.
“You’re not the one who could end up pregnant.”

This time he answered more slowly.
“Would it bother you very much?”

“What?”

“If you ended up pregnant.”

“Are you insane?” She turned away, paced to the far wall, then back.
“I can barely take care of myself and Ben. I can’t afford another child. I’m trying to build a business here. The courts are breathing down my neck over Roger’s investments, his partner is refusing to negotiate any buyout, the house is about to get sold, and I don’t have a clue as to where we’re going to live come July. So, yeah, pregnancy is just about the worst thing that could happen to me now.”

Max watched her continue to pace.
“You could always take the morning after pill. It’s over the counter.”

She drew to a halt and took a deep breath.
“Right. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” She smoothed down her shirt, made sure her hair was still tucked into the pony tail. “I need to go.”

“Wait—”

She paused, hand on the doorknob. “What?”

“We’re still on for Wednesday, right?”

She blinked at him. “Wednesday?”

“The website run-through.”

“Oh. Yes. Wednesday.”

He touched her elbow.
“Come on, I’ll escort you out.”

“No.” She pulled away. “Don’t.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

“I don’t want anyone to know…”
She bit her lip. It felt swollen, tender. “I don’t want people to see us together and think…”

He waited a beat.
“What? That we’re friends? Lovers?”

“Yes.
That. My son can’t know that there’s anything going on between us.”

“We went out to dinner, Eva.
I’m sure people saw us. And I doubt your son would expect you to be alone forever.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, Eva, I don’t. Why don’t you explain it?”

“You’re not a parent.”

“Not as far as I know,” he said. “I’ve always been careful.”

“Until today.”

“Yes,” he conceded. “Until now, with you.”

His soft tone, even more than his words, triggered a strange sense of longing.
Could it be she was starting to fall for him, just a little?

She stiffened her spine.
Ridiculous. She didn’t have time for this, or for him. He was the ultimate player, sleeping his way through Santa Monica’s ranks of nubile young females. Hell, she was probably underestimating his reach. Why limit himself to the eight square miles of Santa Monica, when there was all of Los Angeles and its environs to explore? And what was he doing playing around with Eva, ambushing her for a quickie at his own sister’s house, while scores of guests—including Eva’s son—mingled within hearing range?

To be fair, she hadn’t said no.
She’d reveled in the sheer eroticism of the moment, the incandescent pleasure of his body sliding against and then inside of hers, the orgasm so intense that she actually saw stars.

But now that both her clothes and her common sense were back where they belonged, she needed to get away from him.
Back to her real life, with all its responsibilities and unresolved issues.

She tightened her hand on the doorknob. “Two days, Max.
That’s all I’m asking. A little breathing room, okay?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked.
She held her breath as he leaned forward, his chest brushing her shoulder. But all he did was unlock the door.

“Wednesday,” he said.
“Come by anytime. I’ll be home.”

Wednesday morning dawned too soon. She wasn’t ready to face Max.

It wasn’t the work that was the problem.
That was chugging along quite nicely, right on schedule. The website and blog were all set to go, pending Max’s final approval. She had a list of promotional sites and dates, along with a publicity kit that included links, book excerpts, sample Facebook and Tumblr posts and Twitter tweets that could be fired off with a single keystroke. The only things still missing were the tchotchkes for contests and giveaways she had planned for an online launch party in two weeks. The orders were in, and Eva was expecting delivery any day.

So as far as the promotional campaign for Max’s book, things were definitely on track.

The issue was Max himself. Hard as Eva tried to distance herself, the man had a way of getting past her defenses. What woman wouldn’t melt beneath the impact of those moss green eyes and seductive grin?

But it wasn’t just his looks and charm.
He had strength of character, a gritty determination tempered with compassion. Or maybe that was just his protagonist. Was she making the classic mistake of confusing the writer with his creation? He’d penned a novel, after all, not an autobiography. What did she really know about Max, other than the fact that he had a way with words, seemed quite fond of his sister and nephew, and could bring a woman to orgasm repeatedly while barely breaking a sweat?

She’d promised to stop by his house after dropping Ben off at school.
But if she did that, she was afraid they would wind up in bed. Again. Her body might be screaming
yes,
but her head was telling her not to be foolish. There was only one way for this to end, and that was badly. Someone was bound to get hurt. Frankly, Eva wasn’t enough of a risk taker to chance it.

Which meant she was back where she started a few days ago, when Max had first presented his date-me-or-else ultimatum.
She could continue on this self-destructive path with him, or she could deliver everything that was already completed, and ask him to find someone else to take over the marketing.

Unless…

She pulled out her phone and texted him:
Meet for coffee?

His response was almost instantaneous.
I’ll make some. Come over.

She frowned.
Meeting in a public place would provide some protection. Sure, they’d be seen together, but at least this time she could claim work as a legitimate excuse. She typed a response.
Already ordered. Black, no sugar, right?

This time he took longer to answer.
Where?

She bit back a smile and keyed in the name of the coffee shop where they’d met before.
Then she grabbed her laptop bag, locked the house, and started walking.

###

“Did you take the pill?”

Her hands stilled on the keyboard.
After forty minutes spent bringing him up-to-date, answering his questions about author interviews and guest blogs, she had relaxed. Big mistake.

“No.
I haven’t had the chance.” She forced herself to finish typing and saved the file.

He didn’t take the hint.
“I was thinking. I’m thirty-six. And you’re—what… thirty-one, thirty-two?”

“Thirty-four,” she said, shutting down the laptop.

He nodded. “Did you know that Nina and Paul have been doing IVF for the last year?”

She raised a brow at the non sequitur. “And…?”

“Nina’s thirty-two.”

“I know.”

“We’re not getting any younger.” He paused, glanced around, and lowered his voice. “It’s true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes.”

“Excuse me?”

“When you’re in an accident. One minute I was flying downhill, and the next I was in the air. There must have been a rock hidden beneath the snow. I saw the tree, knew there was no way I could avoid hitting it. I swear, I relived my entire life in those few seconds.”

Eva stared at him.
What he was describing was completely beyond her experience. But the wealth of emotion behind the words was something she had no trouble recognizing. How many times, in those early days of Roger’s illness, had she suffered the same turbulent mix of anxiety and regret?

Before she had a chance to come up with an appropriate response, he continued.
“It took hours for the ski patrol to arrive. And while I was lying there, looking up at the sky, you know what kept going through my head?”

“What?”

“I kept thinking, no one would miss me when I’m gone.”

“That’s not true.
What about Nina, and Connor, and—” She broke off, appalled at what she’d almost revealed.

“Yeah, maybe.
For a while. But Nina doesn’t exactly approve of the way I’ve lived my life.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “She thinks I’m too much like our parents. Chasing after adventure. Taking stupid risks. Wasting my life.”

“Are you?”

“Maybe. At least, until recently. Facing your own mortality has a way of changing your perspective.” He hesitated. “I imagine you know something about that.”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “So if you decided not to take the pill and just see what happens…well, it might not be such a bad thing. Having a kid, I mean.”

His return to the earlier topic jarred her. “I already have one.”

“You could give Ben a brother or sister.” He leaned forward, covered her hand with his. “Wait—don’t say anything. Just think about it, okay? I understand you’re going through a lot right now, and maybe this isn’t the best timing. But you wouldn’t be in this alone. I would help.”

“This is crazy.” She pulled away from him and shoved her laptop into her bag.

“Eva—”

“No. I’m serious. Just because you’re having some kind of existential crisis, doesn’t give you the right to dictate what I should or shouldn’t do.”

“I’m not dictating anything.
All I’m saying is that maybe we should stop and consider this from a different perspective. Look at it as an opportunity.”

“I don’t think so.”
She got up. “I’m sorry.”

He disposed of their empty cups and used napkins and caught up with her on the street outside.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. We’re both adults here. Can’t we talk about this calmly and come to some sort of agreement?”

“I’m not having this discussion.”

He gripped her arm, drawing her to a stop. “Eva, please.”

She tried to shake him off, without success.
“Look, Max, I already told you I can’t handle another complication in my life. I’m sorry. If this makes it too awkward to work together, I’m happy to hand everything over to whoever you get to replace me.”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

A couple women walking past gave them a wide berth. One of them did a double-take. “Eva? Eva Landry? I thought that was you!”

Eva glanced at the woman and dredged up a smile.
“Celeste. How are you?”

“Oh, sweetie, I heard about Roger.
I’m so sorry.” She leaned in for an air kiss, forcing Max to release Eva’s arm. “You must be utterly devastated. But you look good, considering. Have you thought of trying a little Botox? It would do wonders for those frown lines. And who’s this gorgeous man? You haven’t been holding out on us, have you?”

Eva gritted her teeth and made the introductions.
“Max Palmer, Celeste Stewart. Max is a client.”

“A client?
Oh, sweetie. Things must be bad if you needed to go back to work. Remind me what it is that you do?”

“Graphic design.”

“Oh, of course! I remember now. You did all those cute little ads for Tom and Roger when they were still flipping houses. Are you a contractor too, Max?”

He stepped closer to Eva. “No.”

“You look familiar. Don’t tell me! You’re a model, aren’t you?” She turned to her companion. “Doesn’t he look familiar?”

The other woman ogled him. “Like one of those Abercrombie & Fitch models.”

Eva cut off further speculation. “It was nice seeing you, Celeste.”

“Oh, you too, sweetie.
Don’t be a stranger!”

Max waited until they were halfway down the block before speaking.
“A client?”

“What did you want me to say?
The woman has a mouth bigger than Hilton Perez. And unlike him, she doesn’t get paid to gossip. She does it for the sheer pleasure of wreaking havoc.”

“How do you know her?”

“She was married to Tom Stewart, Roger’s business partner.”

“Poor Tom.”

“Yes, he was for a while. After the divorce.”

Max shook his head,
then lapsed into silence. It lasted all the way to her house.

She unlocked the front door and turned to bid him goodbye.

He didn’t move. “Ask me in.”

“We’ve said all there is to say.”

“Ask me in,” he repeated. “Or I’m going to kiss you right here, where all the neighbors can see, so there won’t be any doubt about what our relationship is.”

She blew out a frustrated breath and pivoted to go inside.
He followed, shutting the door behind him. Two strides brought him within reaching distance. Grasping her arm, he swung her back and brought her flush against him.

Her protest never made it past her lips.
His mouth came down over hers, stealing her breath, her will, until she was sagging against him, boneless.

They broke apart, gasping for air.
He speared a hand through her hair, pulling lightly until she tilted her face up to his. His voice was low, raspy. “Now tell me you don’t want anything more to do with me.”

She licked her lips.
“Max…”

“Tell me,” he demanded.

She swallowed, unable to force the words out.

His lips gentled, whispered across her cheek, nuzzled against her ear.
“We can take it slow,” he said. “I’ll try not to push for more than you’re ready to give. But don’t shut me out, Eva. Please.”

She closed her eyes.
“Fine. But Ben can’t know. Promise me.”

His grip tightened for a moment, then relaxed.
“For now.”

The tension drained out of her and she released a shaky breath.
“Thank you.”