Diamonds are for Sharing. Shirley JumpЧитать онлайн книгу.
she loved best?
“Not that,” she whispered to herself as he turned and left the room.
She watched him go, then followed him out into the living room, ready to ask him more about this, but he sandbagged her with a question of his own.
“So what did you think of your blind date?” he asked, sinking into the sleek yet comfortable couch.
“Who? Randy?” She flopped down into a chair across from where he was sitting. Her chin rose. “Obviously, he’s perfect for me,” she said with only a tiny touch of sarcasm.
He caught her nuance. “Is he?” Amusement danced in his dark eyes.
“Of course.” She shrugged. “Hand picked, in fact, by my best friend, Mara. And she was right. Can’t you tell?”
He allowed himself a halfhearted grin. “Oh, yeah. Nice guy. Funny guy. I enjoyed him.”
“Me, too.” She punched a pillow. “He’s exactly the sort of man I need.”
“Ya think?”
“Yes.” She faced him frankly. “He’s very calm and very …” She drew in a long, deep breath. “Very ordinary.”
“Ordinary.” He frowned thoughtfully, then raised an eyebrow. He’d never thought of that quality as an attribute. “Is that a plus?”
She nodded. “I’m ordinary. What’s wrong with ordinary?”
He gave her a look. Maybe the word didn’t mean just what he thought it did. “Did I say anything was wrong with ordinary?”
“Ordinary can be okay,” she said a bit defensively. “I come from ordinary people. My father was an accountant, my mother worked in a bank.”
“Do they live in Dallas?”
She shook her head. “No. My mother died of cancer and my father died of a broken heart.”
“Ah.” He nodded. He understood that sort of thing.
“It’s true you don’t get the thrilling highs with ordinary,” she went on. “But you don’t get the bone-rattling lows, either.” She winced, thinking of Brian. “Excitement can be scary when it goes bad,” she added softly.
He noted the haunted look in her eyes as she spoke. There had been some scary excitement in her life, something that had gone badly. Of course, there were the deaths of her husband and child she’d told him about. Tragedies like that could have life-crippling effects on a person. But he had a feeling this was something more deeply rooted in the past, and maybe more specific to one person—for instance, her husband. What else could have made her so wary of a relationship?
It only made sense. When you lost a significant other who made you happy, you tended to be in a hurry to replicate that happiness as soon as the grieving period began to die down a bit. People with good relationships believed in good relationships. She was scared to connect. Something had gone wrong somewhere along the line.
He wanted to ask her about that, find out what was troubling her, but he held back. He didn’t want to scare her off, and he knew she didn’t want to talk about personal things. She had to be coaxed, cajoled and brought along casually. He would take his time.
“So what about me?” he said instead. “Would you call me an ordinary guy?”
“Hardly.” Her sudden smile was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, fascinating him. “You’re the sort mothers warn their daughters to stay away from, don’t you think?”
“Me?” He was genuinely startled that she felt that way. Truth to tell, he didn’t consider himself exactly ordinary, but he didn’t relish the bad-boy role either. “So what’s scary about me?”
“Nothing, I guess.” She was still smiling that radiant smile. “You haven’t scared me yet.”
He noted the “yet.”
“But you are a little larger than life,” she added, just to be clear.
He frowned, not sure he was going to like this. “In what way?”
“Let’s just put it this way—you’re a little too exciting. Too good-looking. Too powerful. Too adventurous. Shall I go on?”
“No. That’s plenty.” His frown deepened. “And not really fair.”
“Fair has nothing to do with it,” she told him firmly. “Do you think it’s fair that I’m definitely ordinary? I can’t help it. I was born this way. And naturally, if I’m going to have a relationship again, I need an ordinary man.”
There it was, the point this whole conversation seemed to be leading up to. She was giving him a message.
“Like Randy,” he said softly.
She nodded, her eyes huge in the gloomy light. “Yes.”
He gave her an incredulous look. Randy was all well and good, but he wasn’t right for Cari. She needed someone … well, someone more like Max himself. Someone with a little style and energy.
“You need excitement,” he stated firmly.
She shook her head, challenging him with her bright gaze. “No. I need security.”
He stared at her, mulling that over. What did she think she was, ready for retirement?
“Bull,” he said at last. Rising from the couch, he erased the distance between them, reached out and took her hand and pulled her up to face him.
“What in hell makes you think you’re ordinary?” he demanded, face-to-face. “You’re careful. You’re responsible. You’re a good person. If you think that makes you ordinary, you have a higher definition of the term than I do.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I think that makes you pretty special.”
She was tingling. He made her tingle more and more lately. Was that a good thing? Probably not.
What if he was right? That was what scared her. The thing was, Randy was exactly the kind of man she had decided she could deal with, if the need came. Mara had said it best—Randy was perfect. But did her senses zing when he smiled at her? Did she feel faint when he touched her? Did her breathing stall when he whispered near her ear? Did she tingle?
Hardly. Things never worked out that way, did they?
“I think it’s time to go to bed,” she said, pulling away from him and backing toward the nursery.
“Alone?” he said, pretending a plaintive tone, but obviously just teasing.
“Alone.” She smiled one last time, then turned, went into the nursery and closed the door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IF MAX had been one to fantasize what mornings with a wife and child would be like, this would have been a part of that dream. He walked into the nursery with two mugs of coffee and there was Cari, standing in the sunlight streaming in through the window with a baby in her arms, singing a lullaby. She wore his big T-shirt and nothing else, and her bare legs looked golden and gorgeous in the morning light. She turned to greet him, her hair wild around her face, and she smiled that smile that could knock him dead, beaming happiness and welcome.
He stopped in his tracks and stared at her. “Bella,” he said softly. “Bellissima.”
“I didn’t think you’d be up this early,” she said. Her gaze traveled appreciatively over him in a way that made his pulse quicken. He’d put on a pair of tight jeans and a shirt he hadn’t buttoned yet out of expediency, but if she would like what she saw as much as she seemed to, he would do it more often.
“I brought coffee,” he said.
“I see that,” she replied.
“Here.” He set the mugs down on the dresser