C.J. Carmichael - A convenient proposal

And then suddenly it was too late. She was dead, murdered in her own living room. After weeks of investigation—focused primarily on her son, Dylan—the evidence had begun to point to Max Strongman’s son, James. Before the police could question him, James disappeared following a one-way flight to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Not only was Mick convinced that Max was behind his son’s disappearance, he also suspected he may have had a hand in the crime itself.

Of course, he dared not print a word of his suspicions in the paper without evidence. Evidence that probably didn’t exist.

Now Mick glared at the man in front of him, and wished he had the nerve to tell him to go to hell. But Max’s biological ties to the children made him nervous. “What, exactly, do you expect me to do?”

Strongman seemed to take a perverse pleasure in Mick’s hostility. He smiled, satisfied and confident, as he leaned back in his chair. “I expect you to take custody of those kids and see to it they’re raised right.”

“What about their mother?”

“She’s trash. Forget about her.”

Mick doubted it would be that easy for Billy and Amanda. “The situation’s a bit more complicated, don’t you think?”

“Tell you what.” Strongman leaned over his legs, shortening the distance between their faces. “Either you take control of those kids or I will.”

Mick went silent in his shock. Was Strongman serious? Would he apply to the courts for custody of his grandchildren? One thing Mick knew for sure—he couldn’t stand to see Billy and Amanda raised by this man.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

“Good.” Strongman got to his feet and dusted off his pants as if he’d been sitting in something soiled. “I expect you to live up to that, or you’ll be hearing from me.”

“WOULD YOU LIKE DESSERT, ABBY?”

Mick glanced at his watch as he took a sip of water. Nine-thirty. He hoped the kids were in bed and that Sharon was sticking to her promise not to drink. He’d taken her to an AA meeting yesterday, after her doctor’s appointment, but she’d attended reluctantly and that wasn’t a good sign.

“I’m not sure.” His date surveyed the choices on the menu. “Are you in a hurry?” Her gaze shifted to his watch, and he realized she’d noticed him checking the time.

“No. Absolutely not. I was thinking I might like the mixed berry crisp.”

Abby smiled. “Sounds good.”

Mick held in a sigh and signaled the waiter. “Two crisps, please. And a coffee for me.”

“And you, miss?” the waiter asked. “More wine, perhaps?”

“Oh, no. I’ll have coffee, too. Only make mine decaf.”

Mentally, Mick ticked off a point in her favor. This was their fifth date and so far he hadn’t seen her drink more than one glass of wine in an evening.

Really, on all counts she was perfect. He credited his screening process for that. He’d asked her out because she was a kindergarten teacher. That had to mean she liked small kids, he’d figured. And sure enough, every time she discussed her work, her face took on a warm glow. He’d noticed she also had a soft spot for animals. They couldn’t pass a dog on the street without her stopping.

As far as Mick was concerned, he was ready to propose right this minute. The visit from Max Strongman had increased the pressure on his need to marry—and quickly. If it came to a custody showdown between him and Strongman, surely the fact that he had a wife and could offer a two-parent home would stand in his favor.

But although he sensed Abby liked him a lot, he did think she’d consider that moving a bit too quickly.

“Are you worried about something, Mick?”

Her hand felt warm and gentle on his arm, reminding him of the one minor problem with this courtship. He wasn’t really attracted to her, had never felt the urge to go beyond their tender but brief good-night kisses.

That would change with time, he was sure. Abby was cute and blond, with generous curves in all the right places.

“A little, I guess.” He smiled and took her hand in his. “I’m sorry I’m not being very good company.”

He watched as rosy color filled her cheeks. “That’s okay. I just hope I haven’t been boring you with my stories.”

“Not at all,” he said, meaning it. More than anything, he enjoyed her vignettes about the children in her class. It was so obvious how much she cared for all of them.

“It’s just that some of my past boyfriends haven’t been that interested. But I guess you must like kids.”

“I do.” Two in particular.

Abby must have read his mind. “How old are your niece and nephew?”

“Amanda’s the baby. She’s only three. Billy just turned five.”

“Does he go to kindergarten?”

Mick frowned. “Not that I know of.”

Abby shook her head. “He should have registered this fall. I suppose his father’s death…”

Mick wondered if that was why Sharon hadn’t enrolled him. But Danny had died mid-September, several weeks into the school year.

“I’ll look into it, Abby. Is it too late for him to start this year?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good.” As coffee and dessert were delivered, Mick took stock of the evening. It might be too early to ask Abby to be his wife, but maybe the time was right for her to meet the kids.

“How would you feel about going out for pizza on Friday?” he asked.

“Really?” She sounded surprised.

“Yeah. I thought I might bring Billy and Amanda along. Give Sharon a bit of a break.”

“Well, that’s a nice idea, but, Mick, I’m not really sure if we should continue to see each other.”

Whoa! Mick froze. Had he been reading the signals wrong, then? He’d been so sure she was interested in him. “Don’t like pizza?” he said, trying to sound lighthearted.

Abby’s smile appeared sad. “Don’t get me wrong, Mick. I’ve enjoyed going out with you. But the feeling isn’t mutual, is it?”

“I like you, Abby. Very much, in fact.”

“You don’t kiss me as if you like me,” she said frankly. “And you don’t… Oh, I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words.”

“I realize I’m kind of reserved. People are always telling me that.”

Her eyes brightened a little.

“Give us a bit more time, Abby. To get comfortable with each other.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Absolutely.” He squeezed her hand and hoped that every warm feeling he had for her was reflected in his eyes.

The color in her face grew deeper. “Mick, if you had any idea…” Her voice trailed away, then she sighed. “Why don’t you call me Thursday. We should both spend a few days thinking about where we’re heading.”

Straight to a justice of the peace. Of course, he couldn’t say that. “Okay, Abby. If that’s the way you want it.”

She just sighed again, and he wondered what the hell had happened. They’d been off to such a promising start.

Maybe someone had filled her in on the Mizzoni family history, and that was where her doubts were springing from. Abby hadn’t lived in Canmore all her life as he had. She’d moved here after graduation from the University of Calgary.

Perhaps she’d told one of her colleagues who she was dating, and they’d relayed the story about his mother, her drinking and her “boyfriends,” then the trouble he and Danny had both courted in their youth. He’d straightened out in his teens, thanks to a wonderful man who’d volunteered for the Boy Scouts. Harvey Tomchuk had helped Mick see possibilities for a way of life Mick had always felt was out of reach.

An accountant in his day job, Harvey had soon discovered Mick’s love of writing and convinced him to pursue a career in journalism. Now Mick was editor of the Canmore Leader, he owned a nice home, and he was, by most accounts, a respectable citizen.