When Emma didn’t immediately respond, she added, “Considerin’ you’re hidin’ out in the fittin’ rooms, I don’t think you’re gonna get a better offer.”

The ride Emma appreciated. It was the wait that bothered her. Half an hour…and she couldn’t even call Preston to reassure herself about Max.

She shoved the useless phone into her purse. It’d be one o’clock by the time she reached the motel. Two hours after she’d left, not one. But she couldn’t walk and get there much faster. And she was probably agonizing over nothing. Stress, anxiety or extra activity could cause Max’s glucose levels to fall. But he was sitting in front of the television. That wouldn’t raise his stress level or burn many calories.

“Well?” Ruby said. “Should I go ring these up and come for you when I can?”

“Yes. But first, will you please call the Starlight Motel and tell a man named Preston Holman that he needs to feed my son? Tell him you’re calling for Emma.”

“I can do that.” Ruby’s panty hose rubbed as she moved away.

Emma remained in the dressing room. Five minutes later, the salesclerk returned, but she wasn’t smiling.

“No one answered.”

“Are you sure you called the right number?” Emma said.

“Positive. I tried it three times.”

Where were Preston and Max? Was something wrong?

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Emma didn’t know. But she didn’t have any options. All she could do now was pray.

“I’LL RACE YOU to the other side,” Max said.

Preston flung the wet hair out of his face. He’d planned to continue working while Max swam. But a silent bystander didn’t appease Emma’s active five-year-old. Max wanted someone to keep him company. Every five seconds, he’d climb out of the pool and pad over to Preston. “Don’t you want to swim with me? What about the Jacuzzi? I’ll get in the Jacuzzi with you if you want…. My mom likes the Jacuzzi ’cause it’s warm…. Watch me dive…. Watch me do a somersault…. Watch me walk on my hands…. Preston? Are you watching? Here I go….”

Finally, Preston had grown so frustrated with the constant stream of interruptions, he’d given up trying to work and dived into the pool. Now he and Max weren’t just swimming, they were playing games and staging contests.

Max held up his hand. “On your mark—”

“Whoa,” Preston interrupted. “Aren’t you tired?”

“No.”

“We already raced to the other side.”

“So? You beat me.”

“That means we do it again?”

“Uh-huh.” Max grinned as he nodded.

“Until when?”

“Until I win!”

Preston drained the water from his ear. “I see your tactic.”

“What’s a tactic?”

“A plan of attack.”

“Oh. Well, this time you have to keep one hand behind your back,” Max said, as if that was the most difficult challenge ever devised.

Preston arched his eyebrows so he’d look properly challenged. “I already gave you a huge lead.”

“Chicken!” Max began to make cackling noises.

Preston hated to admit it, but Emma’s son was one heck of a cute kid. He was solid and well-built, expressive, almost always happy. Preston didn’t want to like him. But there were moments when he couldn’t help himself. “All right. If you’re so confident you can take me, let’s give it a shot.”

Hiding a smile, Preston waited for Max to position himself. “On your mark, get set, go!”

Max started off with a splash and swam for all he was worth. Preston waited until he’d reached midway, then kicked off, being careful not to overtake him. When he came up for air at the other end, Max was already there, as orchestrated.

“I told you I could beat you!” he said. He was hanging on to the edge, looking like a drowned rat, but he was wearing a huge grin.

“Good job,” Preston said, wiping the water out of his eyes.

“Now let’s see who can hold their breath the longest.”

Max began counting down. When he said, “Go,” they both sank under the water, where Preston opened his eyes to watch the concentration on the boy’s face. Max was determined, Preston had to give him that.

Max’s eyes flew open when he was nearly out of breath. Pretending he couldn’t hold out anymore, either, Preston broke the surface at the same time. “Boy, you’re good,” he said as Max recovered.

“Yeah. I can beat my mom, but not my dad.”

Preston was willing to bet Emma lost on purpose, as he’d just done. But he wasn’t about to give her away. “How did you get to be such a good swimmer?”

“I don’t know.”

Preston hooked his arms on the edge of the pool and leaned his head back, soaking up the sun. “Did you have a pool at home?”

“We still do.” Max accidentally hit Preston in the chest as he let go of the edge and began treading water. Preston almost drew the boy to him. It was instinctive to help a child who was flailing about in the water. But he knew that wouldn’t be a good thing. Holding Max would only remind him of how badly he wanted to hold Dallas.

Max bumped Preston again, but instead of pulling him closer, Preston shoved him over so he could reach the edge. “What was your house like?” he asked.

“Big.”

Big didn’t tell Preston much. How big was big to a kid? “How many rooms did it have?”

Max screwed up his face while he tried to count. “Twenty billion.”

“That’s a pretty big house,” Preston said with a laugh.

“That includes the pool house.”

Preston whistled. Big was probably big even by adult standards if there was a pool house. “What kind of car does your daddy drive?”

“A Hummer. It can go anywhere. Through a jungle and a swamp.”

“Does he take it to Mexico?”

“No.”

“I didn’t know jungles and swamps were a problem in California.”

Max didn’t catch the sarcasm. He was treading water again, but as he tired, he reached for Preston. “Sometimes he drives Mommy’s car.”

Once more, Preston guided him back to safety. “What kind of car does she have?”

“Um…a Cougar.”

“A Cougar? Are you sure? Do you think your mother could drive…” he searched his mind for an expensive car with a cat name “…a Jaguar?”




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