“And you‘re damned good at it.”
“You have to tell him before the opening.”
“Trust me,” Willa said. “I’ll find a tactful way to tell him. In the meantime, just hang tough, Millie.”
~*~
Merrick answered his phone on the first ring. “What’s going on Max?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” There was a pause. “About my place.”
“Are you depressed yet?” Merrick sat bolt upright. “I can move you in this weekend.”
“I appreciate the offer but I was thinking about fixing up my place a little. Could I get some help from my brother, the architect?”
“What do you want?”
“You know, I have a...a friend who’s a designer,” Max said. “Jon, he made some drawings I’d like you to see.”
“Jon again?” He couldn’t keep the smirk out of his voice. “Okay, I’ll drop over later. What kind of changes do you have in mind? I hope you don’t want to lose the skylight.”
“Enclose the bathroom.”
“A civilized request.” Merrick grinned, thinking of Max and her bare-bones lifestyle. “I’ll help you do anything you need.”
“Merrick?” He heard the hesitation in her voice.
“What else?”
“What do you think of Willa?”
A picture of Willa sprang to his mind. Her clear skin glowing; her aquamarine eyes twinkling and the wild tumble of strawberry-blonde curls. Merrick cleared his throat. “She’s gorgeous, a work of art.”
“How come you’ve never been interested in her?”
Merrick opened his mouth, searching for the right answer. “She’s too perfect. I like to look at her but I could never take her for a sail or ruffle her hair, and I can’t imagine kissing her. Her lipstick never fades.”
“I see,” she said.
“I’ll be over later and you can show me what you want to have done. I can probably donate some materials to your project.”
“I appreciate you, Merrick,” she said. “You’re the best.”
He sat staring at the receiver long after Max had hung up. Her mention of Willa stirred something inside him. Something he’d tried to forget.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Merrick beat on the metal door until Max opened it. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and dropped his briefcase on the futon.
“Thanks for coming,” she said.
“Did I have a choice?” He slung his fleece hoodie beside his briefcase. “I thought this was a command performance.”
Max rolled her eyes. “I was begging, not commanding.”
He gazed down at the renderings still spread on the floor. “This is a great use of space.” He selected the elevation of the proposed kitchen. “An actual stove top. This guy must think you cook.”
She laughed, showing her dimples. “He really doesn’t know me well at all.”
“No kidding,” he said. “But I like his concept. Having a functional kitchen will only enhance the resale value of the place. I can get your new appliances at my cost.”
“You’re a good brother to have, but I’m renting.”
Another knock sounded and Max grinned at him. “Get that for me, will you?”
When he opened the door he found Willa standing before him with a pizza and a bottle of wine. “
Oh, hi Merrick. Good thing I got the extra large pizza.” She pushed past him and set the box on the stool beside the futon. The usually fashionable Willa was dressed in a pair of low-rider jeans and a tee shirt and her hair, her crowning glory, was swept into a simple pony tail perched high on the crown of her head. “I hope you’re hungry.”
He stared at her belly button and began experiencing strange yearnings.
“Willa came to help me decide which paintings to send to the gallery for the opening,” Max said. “Let’s eat first.” She sat Merrick on the futon and pointed to the space beside him for Willa. “Let me get some of my fancy glasses for the wine.”
Willa handed the bottle and corkscrew to Merrick. He gazed at her perfect skin and at the strawberry blond hair pulled haphazardly into a band. Her eyes were the color of sea glass and she smelled like citrus.
“Sorry,” he said. “Allow me to open this for you, Mademoiselle.” He wrestled with the cork to cover his lapse.
Willa accepted two jelly glasses, holding them for him to pour wine into, her fingers touching his as she passed one to him.
Merrick felt the electricity from her touch. He handed the bottle to Max to cover his confusion.
“Let’s dig in,” Willa invited.
“Scoot over,” Max directed, nudging him closer to Willa. She opened the box and selected a slice of pizza, coiling loose strands of cheese around her finger.
“So, Merrick,” Willa said, “what do you think of Max’s new paintings?”
“They’re different than her usual subject matter. I guess they’re good, but I like the representational work.” He wondered why he was eating pizza when he wasn’t hungry, but he wasn’t about to move when Willa’s warm thigh was pressed up against his.
Willa gestured to one of the abstracts leaning against the wall. “I’ve always loved her representational paintings but these abstracts are gaining a lot of attention from some very important people.” She turned to face him. “Do you realize there’s a Max Foster hanging in the mayor’s home?”
“I didn’t know.” He grinned. “Way to go, little sister.”
“I had absolutely nothing to do with it.” Max licked tomato sauce from her fingers. “It’s all part of Willa’s grand scheme. You know, Merrick, she’s not just another pretty face.” She got off the futon to disappear into the kitchen area, leaving them alone.
“No, I guess not,” he said.
Willa flashed him a smile and rose from the futon. She started sorting through the paintings and setting them in a particular order against the wall, carefully handling the ones that were still wet.
“Let me help you.” Merrick came to stand beside her.
“I can manage,” she said. “You go ahead and do whatever it is that brought you here.”
Rebuffed, he returned to the renderings and Max. “This is doable. Very simple renovations.”
“If we can start with the bathroom, I’ll be very happy. I’m satisfied with the rest of the accommodations.”
“Oh, puh-leese,” Willa said. “Max, you need to sleep in a real bed. That futon is not even comfortable to sit on.”
Max held up the rendering of the swan bed. “This particular bed cost in excess of five-thousand dollars. I’d never spend that kind of money on a piece of furniture.”
“Where did you see the bed?” Willa asked.
“At a store in the Design Center,” Max said. “Jon took me to his office and we walked through some shops.”
“Jon?” Merrick asked. “Jon’s the design guy?”
“Yes, he is and he’s incredibly hot,” Willa offered.
For some reason, Merrick experienced a twinge of jealousy.
Max smiled. “He’s very sweet.”
Merrick gave her a suspicious glare. “Are you seriously telling me there’s a new man in your life?”
Max returned his look. “And you have Officer Frisky. Who knows? Your kids may grow up to be cops like their mama.”
Merrick was aware that Willa turned to look at him.
“She’s a nice girl, but it’s nothing serious,” he growled. “Shel’s fun.”
“And she’s got handcuffs,” Max said.
“Nothing like that,” he protested. “I’m taking it real slow. I don’t want to get in over my head.”
“I’m the only one without someone special in my life.” Willa raised her hand to her brow, emitting a loud, theatrical sigh. “I feel so fifth wheel.”
“Merrick, why don’t you find one of your single friends for Willa? She should have a really stellar guy to take her to my opening. How about Reggie? He’s a babe.”
&nbs
p; For some reason, that statement gave Merrick another jealous twinge. He cleared his throat, trying to sound laid-back. “I can take you to Max’s opening, Willa. That is, if you want to go with me.”
Willa’s lips curved into a smile. “I don’t want you to get in trouble with your cop. She could make it tough on you.”
“We’re not exclusive, or anything,” he said. “It’s casual.”
“In that case, I’d love to go to Max’s opening with you, Merrick.” She returned to her review of the paintings but looked back over her shoulder at him. “You do understand that I’ll be working that night, right? Max and I both will.”
“Thanks bro,” Max said. “I can always count on you. How about the bathroom?”
Merrick took the drawing to the area she used for her bathroom. Taking a piece of sidewalk chalk, he marked off a space for future walls around the toilet. He looked at the curved glass wall in the rendering. “Are you thinking about here?”
Merrick and Max selected the general lines for the curving wall, starting six feet up the red brick wall separating her loft from the vacant loft next door. The glass wall made a semi-circle, arcing from the brick and curved around to embrace the claw-foot tub. There was no door on the bathroom, as envisioned by Jon Donnell, only on the enclosure around the toilet, but the curve offered privacy.
“This is exceptional,” Merrick said. “This Jon guy must have some major talent for interiors.”
“How much do you think it’s going to cost me just to do this part?” Max bit her lower lip like she used to when she was a kid.
“I’ll get a material estimate together,” he promised.
“Jon said he had a cache of etched glass blocks left over from another project.”
“I can kick in some materials, too,” he said.
“I’ll help,” Willa said.
Merrick eyed her with a grin. “What do you want to do, Willa?”
She struck a pose, showing off her sleek biceps. “I’ll give you my muscles. I’m stronger than I look.”
“Deal,” he said. “Between us we can crank this out.”
When Merrick had gone, Willa and Max sank down side-by-side on the futon.
“Well, that was fun,” Max said.
“I have a real date with Merrick.” Willa’s grin was triumphant. “Thanks Max.”
“I just told you he was going to be here.”
“And what to wear and how to fix my hair.” Willa closed her eyes. “He actually looked at me like he thought I was a hot babe.”
“You are a hot babe, Willa,” Max said. “Just don’t go breaking my big brother’s heart.”
“I will cherish your big brother’s heart, but I hope his cop friend doesn’t feel differently about him than he does about her.”
“Merrick doesn’t lie.”
“But he might underestimate her feelings.” Willa shrugged. “He doesn’t know how I feel about him and I’ve been around a lot longer.”
~*~
Jon picked her up in the T-Bird and headed west through town on Interstate-Ten. He seemed to be in an excellent mood. Every time Max looked at him he had a big grin on his face.
The landscape changed from the flat Coastal Plains to rolling hills north of San Antonio. They drove through several small towns as the terrain climbed. The sun was sinking in the sky, casting long shadows when he made a turn into a tree-lined country lane. The road twisted and curved back on itself. At the end of the road lay a sprawling ranch. The main house was built of native stone and cedar.
Jon opened the passenger door and held out his hand to her. A fluttery feeling in her stomach warned her that she’d made a mistake in agreeing to this trip, but she felt a perverse rush of joy as she put her hand in his.
He pulled her from the car and into his arms. “I’m so glad you decided to come with me. I was afraid you wouldn’t.” His face radiated happiness as though a light shone from deep within him.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said. “I’m glad you asked me to come with you.”
He kissed her tenderly and led her by the hand up the steps to the house.
The door burst open and a tall man came toward them, his hands extended. He matched Jon in stature but his dark hair was mostly gray and his eyes were the blue of summer skies in his deeply tanned face.
“Glad you made it before dark, son.” He wrapped Jon in a rough embrace. “And you must be Millie.” He turned to her, his face alight with a broad smile. “I’m J.C. Donnell. Jon’s mama has been cooking all day. We’ve heard a great deal about you, young lady.” He tucked Max’s hand into the crook of his arm and led her into the house.
The energy exuding from Jon’s father was uplifting. His apparent delight over their arrival filled Max with a sense of well-being. If this pleasant man was Jon’s father, how bad could the weekend be?
The exterior of the ranch house was encrusted in native stone and the back opened to a beautiful vista. A row of French doors on the far side of the great room showcased the vibrant sun setting over rolling hills and scrub oak studded rock.
“Your mama is outside, boy.” J.C. gestured to the open French doors.
Grinning, Max met Jon’s amused expression with a surreptitious wink as she mouthed the word ‘boy’.
Jon pulled her through the doors onto a patio paved with thick slabs of native stone. A large grill sat to one side, exuding the aroma of meat smoking on mesquite wood. This house was designed for entertaining.
“Jon!” A dark haired woman turned from the table, set with a crisp white tablecloth. She held fresh flowers in a vase. Jon took them from her and set the vase in the middle of the table. The woman rose on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. “And you’ve brought your friend.” She turned to Max with a smile, large brown eyes enveloping her.
“Mom, this is Millie,” Jon said.
Max cringed, hating that the deception was growing exponentially. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Donnell,” she said in a small voice.
“Please call me Carla and you can call Jon’s daddy J.C.”
“Sit down, young lady,” J.C. invited. “Let me get you something to drink.” He dove behind the bar, set up on the other end of the patio.
“Something smells wonderful.” Max slid onto a bench beside Jon.
J.C, grinned at her from behind the bar. “This is a working cattle ranch and that’s home-grown beef on the grill.” He nodded to his wife. “Carla’s been cooking all day so you two better be hungry.”
“We can do some damage, Dad,” Jon said.
J.C. served drinks and Carla bustled around the table arranging and rearranging dishes.
Jon circled Max’s shoulders with his arm and pressed a kiss onto her temple. “Are you okay with all this?” he whispered against her skin.
“I’m terrified.” She grinned up at him. “I’ve never done this before.”
His breath was warm against her skin as he laughed softly. “I’ve never done this before either.”
Carla uncovered several dishes and J.C. served thick rib eyes on a large stoneware platter. “I hope you like ‘em rare, Millie.”
“That’s fine.” She thought this was not the best time to tell him she mostly ate vegetarian.
Carla scooped large helpings of sides onto their plates and seated herself across from Jon and Max.
J.C. slid in beside his wife. “Tell us a little about yourself, Millie,” he said.
Max choked on her drink. “I’m just a regular person.”
“How did you two meet?” Carla asked.
“Jon came to my loft,” she said.
“Are you doing her place, Jon?” Carla asked.
“I’m trying to,” he said. “Now let the girl enjoy her food and save the inquisition for later.”
Max cut a bite of steak and popped it into her mouth to prevent any comment. Oh, yeah, this is what steak should taste like. Max trie
d to remember why she’d stopped eating red meat and then realized that it might have had something to do with the fact that she hadn’t been able to afford it and that it wasn’t as easy to spread on crackers as peanut butter.
As they ate and conversed, stars came out, studding the dark sky like diamonds on black velvet.
After the meal, Max offered to help Carla with the dishes but she was waved off.
“You’re a guest, Millie. Jon, why don’t you show her the garden?” Carla enlisted J.C. to help her clear the table, smiling as Jon took Max’s arm.
Jon escorted her on a walk in the garden. The path was paved with more of the smooth native stone.
“This is my mom’s kitchen garden. She grows herbs here, too.” He broke off a sprig of something with stiff, bristly leaves, like a fir tree, and handed it to her. “This is rosemary.”
She inhaled the familiar fragrance, staring up at the night sky.
“The sky is so dark here,” Max said.
“No city lights.” Jon drew her hand to his lips.
“You grew up on this ranch?”
“Yup.”
“I’ll bet you were a cute little boy,” she said.
“I was adorable. My mom said so.”
“And you’re an only child?”
“Yes, my mom was in her late thirties when I was conceived. They’d given up on having kids so you might say I was a surprise. Do you have siblings?”