America's Bravest (48 page)

“Honey, that was a long time ago. We all did
foolish things in our lives.”

“Oh, yeah, you probably broke your curfew by
a half hour once and I…slept around. Not for very long, just until
I got into the firefighter program.”

He was quiet a minute. “Again, you were young
and foolish. Though I hate the thought of some other man’s hands on
you.”

“Don’t think about it then.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“None. It’s me and Mom. She was a single
mother.” Sydney pulled away and ran her hand through her hair.

“What is it?”

“Jesus, we sound so low class. We were poor,
sure, but saying it aloud makes us appear to be…white trash.”

Easing her over onto her back, he said,
“Think of it this way. You overcame great odds, both you and your
mom, to become the wonderful women you are. Me, I had everything
given to me. Growing up in the suburbs, Ivy League College, all
paid for. I said earlier that I admire you, and I do. Even more
now.”

“Max, you’re so sweet. You give me such
confidence. Thank you.”

He started to kiss his way down her body. “I
can think of another way you can thank me.”

“Don’t you have that backward?”

He stopped at her navel. “Nope, sweetheart, I
don’t.”

Sydney pushed Daisy in the stroller along the
blacktopped pavement of the Public Market after having just enough
time to go home, pick up her daughter and mom and head back
downtown. Though most of the market’s fresh produce and baked goods
were bought in the morning by bargain hunters, now, at around five,
even greater sales of anything left were in abundance. They’d also
started a fair of sorts for kids on Saturdays—stands set up selling
hotdogs, clowns doing face painting and some arts and craft booths.
Sydney often saw young mothers here with their kids or single dads.
Today, she’d agreed to meet a certain single dad and his daughter.
The picture of him in her head made her smile. Though tonight would
be family time, her skin still sizzled when she thought about them
together.

“How was work today?” her mom asked as Daisy
squealed, “Flowers!” with delight at the colorful bouquets they
passed. No money for that, though.

“Busy. A car fire before our shift ended, a
flooded basement and a house fire early this morning.” She didn’t
tell her mother that she was the one to climb into the car and
extricate a small child. The save had given her an adrenaline rush
like no other. Well, almost no other, she thought, remembering her
and Max again. Geez, she was getting smitten and he’d only come
into her life five weeks ago.

The early May evening was comfortable, with a
warm breeze that ruffled Daisy’s caramel-colored hair. “Is Max
Delinsky still visiting the firehouse for his magazine?”

Oh, yeah. Dressed in a black-and-white
checked shirt and black jeans, he’d looked like a million bucks.
And smelled heavenly. And he contended watching her work today
turned him on. Though surprised, Sydney was pleased about his
attitude big-time because she couldn’t handle someone who worried
about her on the line, the problem Sophia had with Tony.

They wandered through the stalls buying
vegetables, pastries and fresh bread—that smelled so good she
wanted to break off a piece and eat it right then. She was leaning
over the stroller, handing a chocolate chip cookie to Daisy, when
she heard behind her, “Dad, there they are!”

Her pulse rate escalated in anticipation of
seeing Max again; turning, she watched him and Amber saunter toward
them. He wore the same clothes tonight as he’d had on during the
day, and his hair was tousled a bit in the spring wind. She
remembered its coarse texture and how she’d been surprised by its
thickness. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said easily. He looked to
her mother. “Hello, Mrs. Sands.”

“Linda, please. I think we know each other
well enough to be on a first-name basis now.” Her mother was
beginning to like Max. Too much. Was the same true for Sydney?
She’d taken a nosedive into this relationship without considering
much how she could get hurt.

Daisy’s face lit. “Ambs. Gimme a kiss.”

Amber bent down and kissed Daisy’s cheek,
then spoke to her mother. “Hi, Mrs. Sands.”

Noticing a little butterfly on Amber’s cheek,
Sydney lightly swiped a finger around it. “What’s this?”

“Face painting.” She looked down. “Hey, can
we get one for Daisy?”

“I be like Ambs, Mommy.”

“Oh, honey, I don’t know.…”

“The pain washable and allergy free,” Max put
in. “I think a little decoration on Daisy’s cheek would be all
right.”

“I’ll take them,” Linda offered, “and you two
can chat. Relax.”

“Thanks, Linda.”

“There’s tables under that canopy.” Sydney’s
mother pointed to the left. “Have something to drink.”

The three took off and Sydney gave Max a
delighted smile. Though they couldn’t touch, it would be fun to
hang with him.

Crossing to the table groupings, Sydney
dropped down on a wrought iron chair; Max asked what she’d like and
approached a nearby stand for coffee. She saw a clown go by,
probably to the face painting, and heard a vendor calling out for
cheap tomatoes, but she only had eyes for Max’s cute ass, his broad
shoulders and how his hair curled at his neck.

When he returned, he sat and stretched out
his long legs, so his feet were in touching distance of hers. “And
how are you tonight, Firefighter Sands?” His green eyes twinkled
like emeralds. God, she loved putting that look there.

“I’m well. You?”

“I’m good now that I get to see you.” He
stared straight ahead and sipped his java. “Wish I could kiss you
though.” Instead he leaned over and picked up her hand. “And do a
lot more. I gotta stop watching you work. It makes me crazy.”

All her insides warmed. “I was just thinking
about that. Why, Max?”

“Do you have any idea how competent, healthy,
strong you looked up there on the roof? I wanted to ravish
you.”

“Most men would worry.”

He shrugged. “I’m a little surprised at
myself. I was very overprotective of Annette. And Amber, too.”

She didn’t know whether that was a compliment
or not. Or if she liked the notion or not. She was so busy
pondering his words that she didn’t notice the man that came up to
them. But when she did, her whole body froze. He was with two
little girls. His blond hair was longer than the last time she’d
seen him. But he still had those gray eyes, sculpted features and
lanky build.

“I thought that was you. Hello, Syd.” Leaning
over, he kissed her cheek. “Nice to see you again.”

Her jaw dropped at his public display of
affection. He looked to Max. Max stood.

“I’m Max Delinsky. A friend of Sydney’s.”

Ken studied him. “Ken Kessler. I’m a friend
of hers, too. An old, old one.”

His twelve-year-old, Megan, tugged on his
arm. “Did you know her before or after you and mommy got
divorced?”

Well, this was news to Sydney. She’d had no
idea Daisy’s father was a free man.

It was like getting hit with a blast of cold
water from one of her fire hoses. Had Sydney had an affair with a
married man? Images of her juxtaposed with Annette and Max couldn’t
separate them.

He glanced at Kessler’s daughters. They
looked to be twelve and maybe ten. The girls moved back a little as
if they sensed the charged air, too.

Still, if she’d had an affair, Sydney had
been young.

Still, she should have known better.

“What have you been up to?” the guy asked
silkily. Max hated him on sight.

“Working at the fire department. I’m on the
Rescue Squad now.”

“Ah, the elite group you used to talk about.
Congratulations.”

Max shifted uneasily on his feet. He hated
seeing this little reunion. Thankfully, his own daughter and
Sydney’s family were coming toward him
.

The three of them reached the table and Amber
was all bubbly. “Daddy, look at what Daisy has on her face. She
picked out the one she wanted. She knew the connection to her
name.”

Automatically he looked down. Daisy had a
tiny yellow daisy on her face. She also had the same gray eyes and
hair color as Kessler, who turned, looked down, and practically
stumbled backward into his daughters. His gaze flew from Daisy to
Sydney. His whole body tensed and his hands fisted.

Oh, dear God in heaven. Daisy was his child.
Max knew it intuitively.

“Who is this, Sydney?” Kessler asked
carefully.

What? He didn’t
know
he had a
daughter with her?

Sydney raised her chin in a gesture of
defiance Max already recognized. “My daughter, Daisy.”

One of his little girls came forward and
squatted down. She didn’t even know she was taking her sister’s
hand. “Oh, Dad, she’s adorable.”

“Yes, she is.” His voice was clipped. Cold.
“How old is she?”

Linda Sands stepped forward. “Almost four.
Hello, again, Mr. Kessler.” Ice dripped from the woman’s voice.

“Mrs. Sands.” He shoved his hands in his
pockets. But Max could tell he was struggling.

Hopefully the little girls didn’t know what
was going on.

Finally, Max said, “Daisy looks adorable,
honey.” Reaching out, he took Amber’s hand. “How about you and I go
get something to eat?”

Amber’s face fell. “Oh, I thought maybe we
could eat with Sydney and Daisy and Mrs. Sands.”

“We don’t want to horn in on her and her
friends. Besides, I have to drop you off at your Grandma’s for your
overnight. We shouldn’t keep them waiting for you.” He turned to
her mother. “Thanks for watching Amber.” Then to Sydney, “Have a
nice night.” He scanned the rest of them. “Good-bye, all.”

They walked away, Amber sulking about his
abrupt decision. He’d been hoping for the same thing his daughter
had expected—to spend the evening with the Sands. Not now, though.
Now, he had a whole lot of thinking to do.

oOo

After he brought Amber to the Collins’, Max
went straight home. He was drawn to the informal den, a spacious
area with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and windows. Five years ago,
his entire life had changed in this room. He closed his eyes,
remembering.

Annette had been diagnosed with breast cancer
three months before and, abhorred by the notion that he might lose
her, Max had thrown himself into his work at the computer firm—and
drank some to cope. But that fateful day, reality had hit him. He
needed to get his act together to be there for his wife, so he’d
left work at two and came home. It had been an afternoon much like
today, with the warm May sunshine drifting into the room.

He found her on the couch, but she wasn’t
alone. She was cuddled up, literally, into another man’s chest.
Nausea roiled in Max’s stomach as he took in the scene. The guy was
bald, he wore jeans and a shirt that was too big, and he had a
tattoo on his arm. Annette had always hated tattoos. Max couldn’t
determine how old he was. Purposely, Max didn’t make his presence
known.…

“It’s okay, Annette. You’ll get used to
this.”

“It’s been several weeks of chemo, Tim. I’m
never going to get used to it.”

The guy tipped her chin—and fuck!—kissed her
nose. “I did. And you will, too.” He smiled down at her, then
clasped the back of her head—she wore a scarf because she’d also
lost her hair—as she nuzzled back into him.

Max gripped the doorjamb so hard his knuckles
got white. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing with his own
eyes.

Unnoticed, he walked out, too upset to even
confront them. He waited in the backyard, seated in the sunshine,
feeling like clouds had dumped a downpour on him. After the guy
left, Annette must have noticed him or his car in the driveway.
She’d come to the deck.…

“Max? What are you doing home in the middle
of the day?”

He looked up at her thin face. There wasn’t a
trace of guilt on it. “I wanted to talk to you. I’d had
some…revelations.” He angled his head in the direction of the den.
“But you were busy.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry you saw that.”

“Sorry that I saw it or saw that you did
it?”

Her chin came up. “I haven’t done anything
wrong.”

“Don’t lie to me. I saw him kiss you. Hold
you. You were hanging on to him like a lifeline.”

She was very quiet, then she said, “He’s
been
a lifeline for me, Max.”

It turned out she’d met this Tim the first
week of chemo; they were both on the same schedule and they’d
gotten closer during every treatment. “I’m not denying we’re close.
But we aren’t having an affair.”

“The hell you aren’t.”

“We’re friends.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes, as a friend.”

Max’s world dimmed. He threw back the chair
and stood. “Even if I believed you weren’t sleeping together,
you’ve betrayed me emotionally. That’s even worse.”

She’d clapped her hand over her mouth and
began to weep. “I…I never saw it that way.”

“Why, Annette? We’ve always been so in tune.
So
together
.”

“I
needed
someone.”

“You had me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Max, really I
don’t. But I didn’t have you. You withdrew when I got sick. You
worked all the time. When we were together, you didn’t want to talk
about what I was feeling. If it wasn’t for Laura Erikson and Tim, I
never would have made it this far.”

All his anger diminished with her accusation.
Deep inside, he knew her words were true. “I couldn’t bear to think
about your illness, let alone talk about it.”

“We all deal with this in our own way. I’m
sorry. But as I said, I needed someone.”

Because Max loved her, because she was sick
and because she was right, he drew in a deep breath and tried to
calm down, tried to see things from her perspective.…