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  "I told you. I wanted to make Halloween special for Ryan."

  "And?"

  She glared at him defiantly, but her lower lip quivered. "And you have certain standards. I can see it in your eyes. You expected Leslie's meals to be perfect and they were. You expected her to be a wonderful mother and she was. You knew she'd never embarrass you and she didn't."

  "You're competing with her," he concluded.

  "I am not!" Tessa wrapped her arms around herself.

  "Yes, you are. You've never done that before. Why now?" Tessa was more complicated than any woman Max had ever known. He was filled with the need to understand her in a way he'd never tried to before.

  She scooted away from him toward the front of the sofa. "This is getting us nowhere."

  "Running away again, Tessa?" An old hurt pierced his heart.

  She looked angry enough to slap him. "I don't know what I'm doing. All I know is I've tried my best to be what you and Ryan need—"

  Max pushed the hurt away. "And you've done a terrific job." He hadn't expected to say that, but he realized he'd never meant anything more.

  Tessa seemed stunned. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

  He could kick himself for letting the weeks go by without telling Tessa how much he appreciated everything she did. He'd tried so hard not to put any demands on her, not to expect too much, not to get too close. "I'm saying that because it's true. You're great with Ryan. You've supported him and talked with him and played with him in the past few weeks in a way that I can see has made a difference. You've pitched in and helped around here with meals and shopping in a way I never knew you could. And when do you think you embarrassed me?"

  "By dancing with Kevin at the dance, staying here with you and causing gossip..."

  She had a smudge of flour on one cheek. He stroked it with his thumb and pushed a few of her curls behind her ear. "Oh, Tessa. Chaperones dance with kids all the time. I was proud of how you could communicate with Kevin and Jenny and fit right in at the dance. And as far as you staying here, I'm too old to care what the town thinks as long as I know I'm doing what's right for me."

  A few tears spilled over onto her cheeks, and she ducked her head.

  Max lifted her chin with his knuckle. "I've been a fool not to show you some appreciation."

  She waved toward the kitchen. "I thought you'd be angry that all this work didn't turn out right for Ryan."

  "We'll figure out something. Tessa, you're not Leslie. Don't try to do everything as she would have. Do what you want." He glanced at the sewing machine. "But I don't think you should try to sew another costume."

  She gave him half of a smile and attempted to wipe away her tears.

  He did it for her, relishing the feel of her skin, practically drowning in her beautiful green eyes. Tessa was a Siren, drawing him to her with a mysterious song. She always had been.

  He leaned toward her with the word friendship focused in his mind. He reminded himself of it again right before his lips met hers. He kept the kiss quiet, chaste, but the singeing heat of their lips meeting surged through his blood like liquid flame. He laced his fingers in her hair and stroked. The gesture was meant to soothe but with each pass through her hair, he wanted to take her tighter into his arms, pull her over onto his lap, feel her body—

  He didn't attempt to slip his tongue between her lips and the kiss couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but it was no less arousing than any other they'd shared.

  When he leaned away, Tessa pulled in a breath and expelled a sigh.

  "Friends?" he asked, reminding himself again.

  She looked confused for a moment, then nodded. "Friends."

  And at that moment Max knew he was lying to himself.

  Chapter Ten

  Six little boys chattered and laughed and giggled on Saturday as they scrambled from kitchen chair to kitchen chair set up in the middle of the living room. Tessa stopped the CD of children's songs, and Jimmy ended up on Ryan's lap while Ryan yelled, "No, no. It's my chair!"

  Standing at the CD player, Tessa called to Jimmy, "You can help me play the music."

  Jimmy's pout turned into a smile as he ran up to Tessa. She wondered what she'd do with the next four boys who lost their place in the game.

  When Max came to stand in back of her, she felt his presence. She remembered his "friendly" kiss and almost forgot about Jimmy and the music. "Okay, Jimmy, stop it again."

  This time Ryan didn't get a chair.

  Max said at her ear, "Pizza's here. If we're going to roast hot dogs in the fireplace, we'd better get them started."

  His breath was a hot slash along her neck. His cologne, freshly applied after his shower, wove around her. If she leaned back, his hard chest would be a sturdy bulwark, the place where she'd most like to lay her head. The thought startled her. Since when had she progressed to that fantasy?

  As Ryan ran over to the CD player, his mouth turned downward into a frown because he hadn't won the game. Max slung an arm around each of the boys. "You can help me put the hot dogs on the skewers." He winked at Tessa. "As they lose their chairs, send them out to me."

  Tessa smiled. Max was wonderful with kids—there was no doubt about it.

  After Thursday had turned into such a disaster, she'd thought about doing the party "her" way. Talking with Ryan about possibilities for costumes, she'd fashioned a robot costume out of cardboard boxes and tinfoil. He'd seemed pleased, wearing it around the house for most of today. Then, of course, like the other boys, he'd discarded it a half hour after his friends had arrived. Costumes got in the way of serious play.

  Tessa had found a piñata in a specialty store in New Haven and it had been a terrific ice breaker. Max had attached it to a rafter in the basement and each boy took a turn swinging and finally scrambling to fill his Halloween bag with the treats that had scattered over the floor. From that they'd progressed to spritzing silly string across the living room then Musical Chairs. Tessa had decided kids would rather have pizza than a fancy pumpkin cake. Ryan had asked if they could roast hot dogs in the fireplace.

  Tessa watched the boys push another chair from the circle. One of Ryan's classmates claimed the last chair and she presented him with a miniature car for his prize.

  Ryan and his classmates enjoyed cooking the hot dogs more than eating them. They devoured the pizza and the cookies with equal enthusiasm. Max had helped her with a batch of icing that had finally turned out the appropriate consistency.

  The party almost over, the boys curled on the floor in front of the fireplace, finishing cookies and soda. Max sat on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him, the flames leaping in the fireplace casting shadows across his face. Tessa felt warm, cozy...and strangely content, not something she felt often.

  When the phone rang, Max picked it up and answered, listened, then above the boys' chattering said to Tessa, "You'd better take it in the kitchen so you can hear."

  Setting her plate on the hearth, she went to the phone in the kitchen. She was used to getting calls any place, any time. But Max's brows were raised as if he were wondering who could be calling her now.

  When she clicked on the handset and heard Linc Granger’s voice, she smiled.

  He said, "You didn't answer your cell. So I called the back-up number you e-mailed me."

  In the living room, Max heard her, "Hi! How are you?" and he replaced the receiver on its stand.

  It had been a man's voice asking for Tessa.

  After a few minutes of foot tapping, he suggested to Ryan, "Why don't you show your friends your room?"

  "And all my cars?" Ryan asked.

  "Sure. The boys' parents will be here soon to pick them up."

  All six boys scrambled to their feet, and with Ryan leading, clomped up the stairs.

  Max figured they'd be occupied for at least five minutes so he could find out what was happening with Tessa.

  When Max entered the kitchen, Tessa had the phone cradled against her cheek an
d she was smiling. "Oh, Linc. I’d love to do the interview for you with the governor and his wife. " She quickly glanced at Max, then away. "But I can't."

  Max suspected this man on the other end of the line was giving her all the reasons she should do the interview.

  "I know his situation is getting more press and rumors are rampant," she responded. "But this time I have to pass. You’re the best, though, for asking me first. Thank you."

  Max didn't like the eagerness in her tone or the degree of friendliness. He wished he could hear the other end of the conversation because she said, "I'll be in New York for a meeting with Williamson next weekend. Sure, we can get together. I'll be checking in sometime Friday. Give me a call at the Bennington if you have time."

  Max watched her as she listened intently to the speaker on the other end. Her smile disappeared and she frowned. "I know it's a great opportunity. You’ve handed me a few of those." She laughed at some comment he made and joked, "I know you’ll simply call the next journalist on your list. You always have a list."

  Max's stomach tightened at her easy laugh, her warmth to another man.

  After a few more moments, she said good-bye, hung up and pensively put the phone on its cradle. Remembering he was there, she asked him, "You left those whirlwinds alone?"

  "For a few minutes. Ryan has enough cars to keep them all occupied for a short while." Max motioned toward the phone. "It sounds as if you turned down an opportunity."

  She shrugged, a Tessa shrug, sort of a half lift of her shoulders. "There are lots of opportunities. I can't take them all."

  Max had to ask, "It's not a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?"

  "No. The Summit is. This isn't."

  That was a subtle warning. She was telling him Ryan came first now, but come mid-November, she'd be gone. That's what he expected, wasn't it?

  Tessa picked up a cookie from the plate on the counter and took a small bite. "I got a call yesterday from Mark Thompson at WHBT TV in New Haven. He wants to interview me on their morning talk show." Tessa broke off another piece of cookie and popped it into her mouth.

  As her lips closed around it, Max remembered the taste of her. "How did they know you were around?"

  "When I was doing research last week, I called someone I know at the station."

  "You have connections everywhere."

  "I have to in my business."

  He willed his blood to cool, his pulse to slow down. "Are you going to do it?"

  "Monday morning. After I get back from New York. I wondered if you and Ryan would like to go along to the taping, see the inside of the station and what goes on."

  Max's first inclination was to say "No." But then he realized it could be a valuable experience for Ryan. "I'll see if I can take a personal day. I don't think it will be a problem with Mrs. Bartlett because it will be an educational experience for Ryan."

  The doorbell rang, and Max glanced at the clock on the wall. "Parents are arriving. I'll get it."

  Max and Tessa sorted the boys' jackets and helped them bundle up as their parents arrived. When they'd all left, Ryan sat in front of the fireplace, zooming a car across the coffee table. Remnants and debris from the party lay scattered from one end of the living room to the other.

  Max went to his son and sat on the sofa. "Did you have fun?"

  Ryan stopped the car for a moment. "Yeah. I liked Musical Chairs the best."

  As Tessa perched on the hearth, she asked him, "Wasn't it nice to have friends over?"

  Ryan resumed running the car across the table and shrugged.

  Tessa exchanged a worried look with Max.

  Max picked up a car turned upside down on the floor. "Jimmy liked your room."

  Ryan's face lit up. "He says I have ten times the cars he does. That's a lot!"

  Max was sorry there weren't any children Ryan's age on their street. "You know, Jimmy only lives about four blocks away. Anytime you want to play with him, I can take you over there or bring Jimmy here. What do you think?"

  Ryan shrugged again.

  Max ran his hand through his hair. He wished he knew what was going on inside Ryan's head. Maybe he was just tired. It had been a long, exciting day for him. "It's time to put the cars away and get ready for bed."

  "Do I hafta get a bath?"

  "No. That can wait until tomorrow. Grab as many cars as you can so they don't get lost when we clean up."

  Tessa rose from the hearth and stacked paper plates.

  At the foot of the stairs, Ryan asked over his shoulder, "Are you gonna come up and say good night?"

  Max wondered at Ryan's question. Tessa hadn't missed a night yet. How was his son going to take her leaving?

  "I'll be up before you have your pajamas on," she said.

  After they tucked Ryan in, Max put the kitchen chairs back where they belonged. He returned to the living room and watched Tessa pluck the papery string confetti from the sofa. One of Ryan's friends had sprayed it a few places other than the prize-winning area.

  "I think he had a good time," Max concluded. "He was asleep before we left the room. I just don't get why he doesn't want to be with other kids more."

  Tessa dropped the pieces of confetti into her cupped hand then transferred them to the trash can. "I think we should push his friendship with Jimmy. Maybe we can invite him over one day after school."

  Max gathered soda cups scattered from one end of the room to the other. Each boy must have used three. When Max looked up to see Tessa still working on the sofa, he was struck by the fiery lights of red in her tumbling curls. The flickering flames cast her in a glow. She looked like she belonged...in his living room, in his life.

  She straightened and caught him staring at her. Did her cheeks turn a little rosier? Tessa never blushed, did she?

  Grinning at him impishly, she picked up the small can of string confetti. "Did you have fun tonight?"

  "Who had time to think about fun?"

  "I bet I know how we can have some fun." The devil danced in her green eyes.

  "Uh-oh. I smell trouble."

  She tossed him the small can and picked up another. "I challenge you to a...duel. Whoever can empty their can on the other person first wins."

  "Tessa, I don't know..."

  She pressed the button, and orange string confetti shot across Max's chest.

  He couldn't believe she was serious. Taking a step toward her, he protested, "Tessa, it will be a mess to clean up."

  She winked. "That's why it's fun. Come on, Winthrop. Loosen up." She sprayed the can again, and the string landed on his head and dropped across his face.

  "That's it," he growled. "I'll show you how to have fun." In a flash, his thumb pressed the nozzle and strings flew across her head and down her arm. But he didn't let up. He squirted her sweater, her jeans and a dangling string landed on her nose.

  But Tessa was quick. Darting away from him, she danced around the sofa. He chased, and she squirted. She targeted his hand. "Score another one for me!"

  He shook his can. "But mine's almost empty. And look at you."

  She didn't fall for the bait but launched another attack until he sprayed her again and most of it stuck to her sweater. "No fair," she protested. "Your arms are longer."

  He chuckled. "I guess you'll have to be inventive to compensate."

  Wrinkling her nose at him, she jumped up on the sofa for a better aim. Max couldn't let her get the upper hand. Scooping her up in his arms, he plopped her on the sofa before she realized his intention.

  She clambered to her knees, sputtering, "You...you...caveman!" She squirted the confetti.

  Max sprayed her back, both of them attacking non-stop until they were laughing and out of breath. Lodging one knee on the sofa, he leaned toward her for one last winning spurt. Suddenly he didn't care about winning the game. Tessa's face glowed. Her lips were pink from pursing them in concentration. Her cheeks were rosy from their game and the warmth of the fire. She looked absolutely silly wreathed in orange confetti, but
, oh, so lovely.

  His laughter was a rumble in his chest when she stopped giggling. They seemed locked in place for an eternal moment, then inexorably drawn together. He gathered her in his arms and pulled her toward him. She was warmth and loveliness, softness and adventure, fun and passion. Friendship could never describe the desire roaring through his blood with only one destination. Lifting her onto his lap, he kissed her with the fervor he'd denied, the wanting he'd tried to ignore, the need that had built up for too long.

  He didn't wait for her to open her lips, but pushed inside. Her small moan told him he'd done the right thing. And as she welcomed his probing tongue, he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He was familiar with needing and wanting. He just wasn't used to having the sensations satisfied. Tessa gave as much as he did, took as much as he did.

  Still, he wanted more. Tasting her wasn't enough. He wanted to touch her, too. The hem of her sweater stretched easily, giving him access. The skin of her midriff was hot, satiny, inviting. As he ran his fingers across it slowly, she moved against his hand as if she wanted more, too. His fingertips slid along the edge of her bra. It was silky and wispy and not at all what he'd expected. Tessa was so self-reliant, so strong. But so feminine, too. He shouldn't be surprised. That's what he loved about Tessa—she constantly surprised him.

  Loved? No, it couldn't be. He loved Leslie. Didn't he? This passion for Tessa was just that, wasn't it? Passion mixed with caring.

  Tessa felt Max's hand on her breast. The silky material was thin, but not thin enough. She wanted to feel the ridge of his fingers, the warmth of his palm. He was kissing her as if he never wanted to stop. And she didn't want him to stop. He'd lit a fire in her heart, her soul, her body. She loved his arms around her, she loved his lips on hers, she loved his scent, his texture, his consummate maleness. She loved him.

  The shock of the realization made her go still. Loved Max? Everything inside her cried, No! That can't happen. But it had. She knew the truth when she saw it...heard it...felt it. Had she loved him all these years and denied it? Had the fire in her heart that had begun when they'd dated been burning since then? If he and Leslie hadn't become involved, would she have come back and stayed? No, she hadn't been ready then. Was she ready now?