The Boss's Baby Arrangement

“What did I say wrong?” Her stomach knotted.

“It’s not you. It’s just that my relationship with them has become strained since Terri died. They miss her, I understand that. We’re all hurt.”

“Everyone could tell how much you loved each other.”

“We’d known each other all our lives.” His voice was filled with a hollow kind of sadness.

“So you’ve known her parents as long, too. They should be like parents to you, as well.”

He barked out a laugh. “If only it was that simple.”

“I don’t want to pry.”

He shook his head. “You’re not. They blame me for not taking care of her. I was working late when she died. If I’d been home on time, maybe I would have seen the symptoms, gotten her to the hospital in time...”

In his tone, she could hear how many times he’d replayed that night in his head. Played the what-if game. She knew how painful the potential of what-if could be.

“You can’t blame yourself.” Her voice was gentle but firm.

“I do. They do.” Quieter still, he took a step forward, buried his face in his hands as if to shut out any chance of redemption. But Maureen knew a thing or two about “phoenixing”—the importance of being birthed by fire and ash.

“Easton told me the doctors said there was nothing that could have been done.”

She reached a soapy hand for his, certain Xander needed a small show of comfort. Her heart demanded that of her.

“I wish I could believe that. I wish we all could.”

“That has to have left a big hole in your life.”

“It has.”

“I’m so sorry.” And she was. So damn sorry for how things had played out for him. For the burden of a future he’d glimpsed but could never have. She understood that sort of pain.

“I have our child. And I can’t change things.”

“Stoic.”

He leveled a sardonic look her way. “The problem with that?”

“Nothing.”

“Even I know that when a woman says nothing, she means something.” He half grinned, an attempt at light in a shadowed spot. A good sign. A necessary one. And Maureen used that light to ask the question that had burned a hole in her mind all day.

“I just wonder who...”

“Who what?”

“Who helped you through that time?” Immediately she regretted the push for information. Stammering, she continued. “Th-that’s too personal. Forget I said anything.”

He waved his hand, dismissing her retraction. “Holding my daughter comforted me. There’s no way to make the pain go away. Enough talk about me. What about you? Tell me your life history if you expect mine.”

“I’m from Ireland.” An evident truth and perhaps a cop-out answer meant to delay going deeper.

“Great mystery there, lass.” He re-created a thick brogue, sounding like an Irishman in a BBC production. The gesture tugged a smile at the corners of her mouth.

“My accent’s not that thick.”

“True. And why is that?”

She looked up at him through her lashes as she finished the last bird’s wing. “My father worked for an American-based company in Michigan for ten years.”

“Is that what drew you back here?”

“Maybe. I needed a change after my divorce and this opening came up. I got the work visa. Here I am.” That was the heart of the story. No lies, but nothing to sink his teeth into. Maureen was always much more comfortable asking people how they felt and what they needed than sharing her own details, especially after her divorce.

“And now it’s time to go home.” He tipped his head to the side. “You don’t seem pleased about that. I imagine your family has missed you.”

“They weren’t pleased with me for splitting with my ex. They accused me of choosing my job over my marriage.”

“Your husband wasn’t interested in coming with you?”

“No, he wasn’t. I didn’t ask, actually. We’d already split by then, but my parents didn’t know.” She shook her head. “But I don’t want to talk about that. Nothing more boring than raking over the coals of a very cold divorce.” The need to change the subject ached in her very bones.

“Whatever you wish.”

Time to shift back to Xander. To something of the present. “What brought you out here?”

“I need your help.”

“Is there an animal loose?”

He held a hand to his chest, acting as if he’d been wounded by her insinuation. “I think you just insulted my manhood. I may not be my brother, but I can handle a stray critter.”

Damn, he was too handsome and charming for his own good—or her sanity.

She considered his words for a moment before pressing further. “Snakes?”

“Sure.” He nodded.

“Birds?”

“A net and gentle finesse?”

“A key deer?”

“I could chase it with the four-wheeler.”

The image of Xander loaded up in a four-wheeler corralling key deer sent her giggling. She’d never seen this fun side of him before and she couldn’t help but be enchanted by the flirtatious game. After all, it was safe, not likely to lead anywhere. “Gators?”