Leave it to Max (Lori's Classic Love Stories Volume 1) (20 page)

Livy didn’t seem surprised to see him, which
threw Garrett off his game.

After she’d hung up on him, he didn’t figure
another phone call was advised. Appearing on her doorstep would
probably get the door slammed on his toe. Besides, he didn’t want
Livy sneering at him with Max around.

So he’d stood outside and waited until all
the lights went out, just the way he always used to. He’d devised a
plan: unlock the door, slip upstairs, don’t scare her to death,
talk fast before she threw him out.

But when he saw her sitting in bed as if
waiting for him, just as she always used to, every word of the
speech he’d planned flew out of his head, even as all his blood
pooled lower. Everything he’d felt for her returned, slamming into
him with the force of a Missouri ice storm and leaving him just as
breathless. For a short time she’d been all he’d ever wanted, ever
dreamed of, and so he’d been unable to stay. Because he knew he’d
ruin the beauty of them eventually.

Whatever he touched he broke; whatever he
cared about he crushed; when things mattered the most, he failed.
Just look at the un-book.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Garret swallowed. Throat treacherously empty
of moisture, he nearly choked. Against the navy-blue pillowcase,
her butterscotch hair shone. Once, her sheets had been crisp and
white, soothing to rest upon in the heat of a Georgia summer night
But the dark blue suited the woman she’d become and matched her
eyes, though Garrett doubted she cared about such frivolities.

“We have to talk—” he began.

“I know.”

He gaped at her easy acquiescence.

“Did you think I’d disagree? Although I’d
have preferred to wait until daylight to do this.” She threw back
the covers.

His eyes, traitors that they were, scanned
her form while she moved to her armoire and pulled out a robe.

She used to sleep in a skimpy T-shirt and
silk panties. For years the merest thought of her long legs peeking
from beneath the cotton had gotten him hard at the most
inappropriate times.

Her sleeping attire was still cotton, but
flowed about her ankles when she walked. As she lifted her arms and
thrust them into the robe, the cotton tightened along her breasts,
much fuller now because of him, because of Max.

Garrett moved to the window. Getting hard at
inappropriate times did not seem to be a problem of just his
youth.

He smelled her first, a haunting hint of
spice, even before he heard the
swish
of her robe and
nightgown. She stood at his side and stared out the window, too.
Garrett fought not to turn and take her in his arms and make her
forget talking while they did anything but.

“I’m going to give you a chance.” Her words,
coming so soon on the heels of his lascivious thoughts made him
start.

“At what?”

He felt her look in his direction, but even
in the shadows he did not want to risk her seeing how she affected
him, so he kept staring out the window, hands crossed over his
interest.

“At getting to know your son.”

Hope sprang to life within him. “Really?”

“I’m not a sadist, Garrett. I wouldn’t hold
out Max, then snatch him away and laugh.”

“You’ve been adamant that I didn’t deserve a
minute with him. Why now?”

“I need help. My mother’s in jail, and she’s
not getting out for a while. I can’t be home every day at four, and
someone has to be. I could hire a nanny, but—” She paused as if she
didn’t want to continue. “But?”

Livy pursed her lips, then looked away. “I
think Max needs you.”

“Don’t sound so happy about it.”

“It would be my preference for you to go away
and never come back, forget where Savannah is, forget Max exists.
But you aren’t going to.”

“Damn right.”

“The two of you connected in a way he and I
never have.’’ She sounded sad.

Garrett touched her arm. Even in the
darkness, he saw the uncertainty in her eyes, and suddenly he
wanted to comfort rather than ravish. “Max loves you.”

“He has to. I’m Mommy. But he doesn’t
understand me, any more than I understand him. You do. I never
thought blood meant so much.” She sidestepped, effectively removing
his hand from her arm. “Max could use a man in his life.”

“What about your friend Klein?” Jealousy
burned, even when he had no right. The man had taken an instant
dislike to him, and Garrett figured that was because he had an
extreme liking for Livy.

“He’s my friend and a good one.”

“Only a friend?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes,
he’s just a friend. I’ve needed friends like him lately. He’s also
a colleague and great cop. Klein figured out that you were Max’s
father.”

Surprise smothered the jealousy. “How could
he know that?”

“He said you and Max have the same eyes.”

Pride surged through Garrett, until he saw
the shadows dance across Livy’s face. The urge came again to take
her in his arms, no longer sexual, but there just the same. “Livy,
I—”

She held up her hand, seemed to struggle for
words. “We’ll make an agreement. You can see Max on the condition
that you don’t tell him who you are.”

The lightness in his heart that was hope,
darkened. “Ever?”

“Let’s just wait awhile. Give all of us a
chance to get used to this.”

Understanding dawned. “You think I’m going to
run off again, and you don’t want Max hurt.”

“Is that unreasonable? Just tell me if it is
and I can hire a nanny.”

Garrett’s emotions had been up and down and
all around so many times since he’d come into this room that he was
starting to feel like a trolley on the streets of San
Francisco.

Once again he’d been judged inadequate before
he’d had a chance to try. That made him angry, though Livy had
every right to distrust him. And even as the anger burned, so did
the fear. What if he
did
mess up? This was his son, not a
book.

“I only want what’s best for Max. If you
think that my being just his friend, for now, is what’s best, I
agree.”

“Great.” Livy held out her hand.

Garrett stared at it in disbelief. “I’m not
going to shake hands like Max is a deal you brokered. He’s a child.
Our child.”

Her hand fell back to her side. “I’m not
likely to forget that.”

“You did before.”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her breasts,
hugged herself as if she were cold, though the room was far too
warm. “I’ve never forgotten. Not one minute of any day, nor most of
the nights. He was always yours. Forever ours. Why do you think I’m
so angry?”

“Make me understand.”

Her sigh wavered in the middle, and suddenly
Garrett understood that the shadows in her eyes had been lurking
tears. He reached out, but she backed away.

“Don’t touch me.” She laughed, a watery
sound, and sat in a rocking chair surrounded by the night. “Even
now, when you touch me I can’t think. I only remember.”

Now was not the time to explore what they’d
once felt, what they might feel again. When had he started to hope
for a second chance with Livy? When she’d offered him a first
chance with his son?

“Did I ever tell you about my father?” she
began.

“Max mentioned it.”

“Good. Then, I don’t have to. I adored him
and he left me. Forever. My mother dumped me here, and she was off
on some great adventure before Daddy was even cold.”

Which explained her problem with her mother,
and the reason she’d needed Garrett so much back then. She’d
frightened him with that need, with the depth of her love. He’d
been terrified he’d never be worthy of such a bright and shining
gift, so he’d run, and ended up nearly missing the greatest gift he
could ever imagine.

“I loved you so much.”

The intensity in her voice made his heart
leap. Until he heard the past in those words. She’d
loved
him. Until he’d ruined it.

“You broke my heart.” She stared at her
hands, twisting, twisting in her lap.

As if the sight disturbed her, she pulled
them apart, cleared her throat and soldiered on. “The day after I
said I loved you for the first time, I came skipping up the stairs
to your room, and you were gone. I just stood there. I couldn’t
believe what I was seeing. The place was empty of everything but an
old, plaid shirt you’d tossed across a chair. I put the shirt on,
and I could smell you.” She took a deep breath, as if living that
moment all over again. “Then your landlady walked in, said you’d
packed, paid, and you weren’t coming back.”

Livy’s eyes shone bright in the silver light
of the half-moon. He made a move toward her, but she held up her
hand. “I need to finish.” She rocked back and forth a few times.
The floor creaked, an agitated sound that matched her mood. “I
still didn’t believe it. I
loved
you. Then I found out I was
pregnant—”

“Livy, I—”

“Be quiet! You need to hear this.” She paused
again.

He wanted to tell her to stop, that this was
hurting her, hurting him. But she was right; he needed to know what
he’d done.

“I was happy when I found out. Everything
that had been good about us would come alive in the child. And how
could you not come back when there was a baby? Of course, that made
no sense. You didn’t know about the baby. You’d left me
.
For
months I wore your shirt to bed.” Her voice wavered; so did her
lip. “As long as I had that shirt, I had hope. So I kept hoping,
until...”

“Until?”

“Max was born. He was early and too small.
The labor was long and, damn it, it hurt. I think more so because I
was completely alone.”

Garrett closed his eyes. He was
such
an asshole.

“The day I was supposed to leave the
hospital, I put on your shirt again, and it wasn’t good enough. The
shirt wasn’t you, and I finally believed that you weren’t coming
back. I couldn’t keep waiting and hoping forever. When my father
died, I mourned, but the mourning ended. When you left me of your
own free will, it killed me from the inside out. I didn’t want that
for Max. When my hope died, so did you. And it was easier that
way.”

“Until I showed up undead.”

“Exactly.”

She had every right to hate him. He hated
himself. The fact that he hadn’t known what a mess he’d left behind
didn’t make his leaving any less an act of cowardice.

Garrett had believed himself incapable of
loving her the way she needed to be loved. He’d feared the
disillusionment in her eyes when she realized he wasn’t the man
she’d hoped for. He’d believed that in leaving he was doing the
right thing, the only thing he could do. What he hadn’t realized
was that for Livy, leaving was the worst thing.

“Now you know what it was like for me when
you left. I’m not proud of how much I needed you. How completely
destroyed I was to lose you.”

“You sound embarrassed.”

“I am. I was. I trusted you. Foolishly, and I
paid the price. You were a weakness. One I won’t repeat.”

“Love is a weakness? I’d heard it was
strength.”

She made a derisive sound. “I love Max. He’s
my weakness. He’s the only person whose loss would destroy me. I
can’t afford to love anyone else the way I loved you. I don’t have
the strength anymore.”

He hadn’t seen this much emotion from Livy
since he’d returned. Though she didn’t want him to touch her, he
had to.

Garrett knelt next to her chair. Warily she
stared at him; he could almost see her shrinking back against the
wood.

“After what you just told me, I think you’re
the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”

She shook her head; her hair tumbled across
her cheek. Garrett brushed it away, and when his fingers slid along
her skin she shivered. His body shuddered in response, and he
gritted his teeth against the shaft of lust that spiked through
him. No matter the inappropriateness, the incongruity of wanting
her always, he couldn’t help that he did.

“You protected Max from the world, from
himself, from me. You did whatever you had to do for him. I’d thank
you, but I have no right.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear and lowered
his hand toward his side. She shifted, most likely uncomfortable on
the hard wooden seat, and his fingertips grazed her thigh. The heat
of her skin scalded through two layers of cotton.

He froze. So did she. When their eyes met, he
saw his desire mirrored in her. Still, he knew better than to take
what had not been offered. Slowly, carefully, he removed his hand.
But she caught him before he could escape.

“Garrett?” she whispered. “Why is it still
the way it always was?”

If it was
exactly
the same, she’d be
calling him J.J. He took an instant to be glad she wasn’t. If she
thought him that boy yet, he’d never get past all the mistakes he’d
made to become this man.

“Is it the same?”

She pressed the palm of his hand to the
inside of her thigh. “Isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah” slipped past his lips before he
could stop it. At least she smiled, so he didn’t feel too much like
an adolescent.

He wasn’t sure what she wanted; was afraid to
go too fast, make a bigger mistake than ever before. But touching
her felt too good to stop, so he let the warmth of her skin soothe
him, even as the possibilities awakened.

Staring into her eyes, he was compelled to
tell her a little of his heart. “You consumed me then. You consume
me now. I can’t think past the memories of you that I can’t even
have.”

She slid forward. His fingers were suddenly
full of nightgown, and her knee was bare. He felt like a kid,
uncertain where to put his hands, where to look, what to do.

Looping her arms around his neck, she urged
him closer, so that he knelt between her legs; her thighs skimmed
his hips and their faces were mere inches apart. “Tell me,” she
murmured, and her breath brushed his chin.