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“Ryan Clark.” She made no pretense at being flattered that he’d remembered.
“How’s business today?” he asked, after swallowing a hefty bite of his sandwich.
She concentrated on her salad—or pretended to. “Busy.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yes, of course.” She wondered why he was wasting time talking to her when she was making it obvious that she wasn’t interested.
At least, she was trying not to be interested.
Okay, the guy was gorgeous. His knock-your-socks-off smile made her toes curl.
If she’d run into him even a year earlier, she’d probably have bantered right back at him, maybe thrown a few passes of her own. She’d have been open to the possibility of a frivolous flirtation, maybe a light-hearted, unquestionably temporary affair—though such encounters had been extremely rare for her. A year ago, she’d been busy preparing to open her business. She hadn’t been ready for a serious relationship, though she might have made time for a bit of fun with a man like Max, had one come along.
But that had been then, and things had changed. Her life was moving along exactly the way she’d planned, and a brief fling didn’t fit in with her new goals. Now it was time to get serious about looking for Mr. Right.
She would almost have bet her precious shop that it would be a complete waste of energy to expect anything permanent with a man like Max Monroe. If she was going to start a family before she reached thirty, there wasn’t time to get distracted by a charming heartbreaker.
She looked up and her gaze met Max’s. His smile crinkled the corners of his blue-gray eyes with tiny lines that hinted at hours spent in the sun. It made her want to smile back at him. It also made her think of fun and laughter and lighthearted conversation and teeth-rattling lovemaking.
If only she’d met him a year or so ago, she thought wistfully. Back when she’d still had time to have her teeth rattled a bit.
Her iced tea splashed precariously against the sides of the paper cup when the table was suddenly jarred from close by. Both Ryan and Max grabbed their drinks to prevent them from spilling. Ryan looked down, not quite sure if she was relieved or disappointed that the spell that had fallen when her eyes locked with Max’s had been abruptly broken.
Two children, a boy and a smaller girl, were just sliding into seats close to Ryan and Max. The boy flushed and looked sheepish when he saw that Ryan was looking at him. “Sorry,” he said. “I stumbled against the table.”
“That’s okay,” she assured him. “No harm done.”
She started to turn away, then hesitated when she noticed the little girl across the table from the boy. Big blue eyes. A mop of white blond curls. A Cupid’s bow of a mouth. And the boy—sandy haired, with blue eyes that looked surprisingly shrewd for his age and a no-nonsense little chin that would one day be formidable.
She’d seen them before, she realized. Yesterday, in her shop.
The little girl was smiling at her. Ryan instinctively returned the smile, which made the child giggle.
“Kelsey,” the boy murmured, handing his little sister a decorated box that held a McDonald’s Happy Meal. “Settle down and eat your lunch.”
Ryan glanced at Max, who was watching her with a grin. She knew he was as amused—and bemused—as she by the boy’s overly mature manner. She smiled wryly back at him.
“Look at what I got in my Happy Meal, Pip,” the child he’d called Kelsey said, holding up a molded-plastic figure. “Minnie Mouse!”
“Yeah, that’s cool,” her brother said, taking a bite of his own small cheeseburger. “Hang on to it or you’ll lose it.”
Kelsey clutched the toy more firmly in her chubby hand. “I won’t lose it.”
“Eat your lunch, now.”
“Okay, Pip.” The little girl obediently took an enormous mouthful of her own burger.
Biting the inside of her lip to avoid laughing, Ryan wondered if the children were eating alone while their mother shopped. They seemed awfully young to be wandering through a crowded mall on their own.
She remembered that they had seemed unaccompanied the day before, in her shop, and she shook her head slightly in disapproval of their parents’ negligence. She would have liked to chat with the children, but didn’t want to encourage them to talk to strangers.
Max apparently didn’t consider that precaution. “You guys doing some Christmas shopping?” he asked encouragingly.
“You might say that,” the boy answered after a momentary consideration.
His sister giggled at a private joke.
“Been to see Santa yet?”
Kelsey nodded avidly. “Twice. I forgot to tell him something the first time, so I went back. He remembered me. He said he would—”
“Kelsey!” Pip said patiently. “It was a yes-or-no question.”
“Oh. Then, yes. We seen him.”
“Saw him,” Pip murmured.
Kelsey gave a deep sigh. “Saw him,” she repeated.
“Didn’t I see you in my shop yesterday?” Ryan asked, forgetting her own mental warnings about talking to the kids.
“The doll shop,” Kelsey said, nodding again. “I like your store very much.”
“It’s a cool shop,” her brother agreed politely. “If you like dolls, I guess,” he couldn’t resist adding.
Ryan laughed. “I happen to like dolls.”
“Me, too,” Kelsey seconded fervently.
“Feel free to come back in and look around whenever you like,” Ryan said, touched by the child’s obvious delight in the shop. She had never gotten over her own childhood fascination with dolls of any shape and size, so she could easily identify with her.
Kelsey looked pleased by the invitation. “Thank you. Maybe Pip will let me come look again after lunch.”
The boy nodded, still concentrating on his hamburger.
“I remember you,” Max said suddenly, looking at the girl. “You helped me pick out a doll for my niece yesterday.”
The child smiled shyly. “My name’s Kelsey,” she volunteered. “That’s my brother. His name is Peter, but I call him Pip, ‘cause I like Pip better.”
“Hello, Kelsey. Hi, Pip. I’m Max.”
The children acknowledged his greeting, then turned expectantly to Ryan.
“I’m Ryan,” she said obligingly.
“I’m six years old.” Kelsey made the announcement with pride. “Pip’s nine.”
“I’m thirty-four,” Max said gravely. “How old are you, Ryan?”
She gave him a pointed look. “I’m twenty-eight.”
“Are you married, Ryan?” Kelsey asked innocently.
“No,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m not married.”
“Are you married, Max?” Pip asked casually.
“No,” Max answered, still looking amused. “How about you, Pip? Tied the knot yet?”
Kelsey dissolved into giggles. “He’s not married, silly,” she said reprovingly. “He’s only a kid—even if he is a lot older than me.”
“Oh, that’s right. I guess I forgot for a minute,” Max said, winking at Ryan.
She reached desperately for her iced tea, wondering in exasperation how a crooked grin and a quick wink could raise her body temperature by about fifty degrees.
“We saw you in the sporting-goods store, too,” Pip told Max. “You bought a football. Have you played with it yet?”
Max chuckled. “Not yet. I’ll probably try it out on Sunday. Some of my friends and I get together on Sunday afternoons to play touch football in City Park.”
“City Park’s not far from where we live,” Kelsey commented. “Me and Pip go there sometimes and play on the swings. I like to swing.”
A mall employee in a bright red-and-green uniform approached the table with a colorful bouquet of helium-filled balloons bobbing behind her.
“Hi,” she said, her ponytail bouncing perkily. She looked at Ryan. “Would your kids like a balloon? They’re free.”
“Oh, uh…” Flustered, Ryan looked at the children.
“I’d like one, thank you,” Kelsey said, pointing to a red balloon. “May I have that one?”
“Sure.” The young woman plucked the red balloon from the batch and pressed the string into Kelsey’s hand. “Don’t let go now or it’ll fly away. Maybe your dad’ll tie it to your wrist.”
Before anyone could answer, she turned to Pip. “How about you? Want a balloon?”
Pip shook his head. “No, thank you.”
“Okay. See ya, then. Have a nice day.”
The young woman had already spotted another family group. As she moved toward them, she looked over her shoulder at Ryan. “Nice kids,” she said.
Fortunately, Ryan was spared having to answer.
Kelsey was grinning at Max. “She thought you were my daddy.”
“Yeah. I guess she did.” Max looked almost as disconcerted as Ryan had felt when the woman had mistaken her for the children’s mother.
“You don’t have any children, do you, Max?”
“No, Kelsey. I don’t have any children.”
The child gave him a melting smile. “Would you like some?”
She jerked suddenly, as though she’d been kicked beneath the table. “Ouch, Pip! That—”
“Finish your french fries,” her brother said quickly. “You don’t want them to get cold.”
Kelsey sighed and turned back to her meal. “How can I eat and hold my balloon at the same time?”
“Here,” Max said. “I’ll tie it to your wrist for you.”
Kelsey obligingly held out her hand. “Thank you, Max,” she said with a coquettish bat of her eyes.
To Ryan’s amusement, Max’s cheeks darkened. “Yeah. Sure,” he said, hastily tying the string into a loose slipknot.
Ryan gathered her empty plastic salad bowl and other trash, then pushed her chair away from the table. “I have to get back to work. It’s been nice chatting with you, Kelsey and Pip.”
“And Max,” Kelsey reminded her.
“Yes, of course. And Max, too.”
Max looked as though he wanted to say something else. Ryan hurried away before he had the chance.
Though she couldn’t have explained her overreaction, she was still a bit shaken at being taken for a family with Max and the children. The experience had left an oddly hollow feeling deep inside her.
Must have been the salad, she decided. One could never trust fast-food places to have really fresh vegetables.
3
THE ESCALATORS WERE mobbed, and the glass elevators in the center of the mall were packed like sardine cans, with more shoppers waiting to get on. Ryan ducked into one of the discreetly located service elevators tucked into an out-of-the-way nook. She noticed as the doors closed silently behind her that she wasn’t the only occupant.
Santa Claus was also on board.
“Taking a break?” she asked, pushing the button for the third floor.
“A brief one,” Santa replied, his voice deep and pleasant, just the way Ryan thought it should be. “Did you have a nice lunch?”
Ryan wondered if he’d noticed her downstairs or was simply making a guess. “Yes, thank you. It’s crazy this week, isn’t it? I’ve noticed you’ve had some incredibly long lines of children waiting to see you.”
“I don’t mind. I love children.”
“So do I,” Ryan answered, unable to keep a touch of wistfulness out of her voice.
The elevator jerked oddly. Ryan steadied herself against the shiny metal wall. “What was that?”
“I’m not sure….”
The elevator stopped. Unfortunately, they had already passed the second floor and had not yet reached the third.
