SUSAN MEIER - Housekeepers Say I Do! - Maid for the Millionaire / Maid for the Single Dad / Maid in Montana

And that meant she was safe. But so was he. He simply didn’t know that she was as determined as he was to get beyond their attraction. Perhaps even to be friends.

So maybe she had to show him?

“Come on, Cain. This smells too good to resist.”

He caught her gaze and she smiled encouragingly. She tried to show him with her expression that everything was okay. They could be around each other, if he’d just relax.

He walked to the table. “You’re right. Especially since I’d be going home to takeout.”

He sat across the table from her, leaving the two seats on either side of her for Amanda and Joy.

She smiled. As long as they paid no attention to their attraction, they could work toward becoming friends. She would simply have to ignore the extreme sadness that welled in her heart, now that their glances would no longer be heated and they had both silently stated their intentions not to get involved again. Mourning something that hadn’t worked was ridiculous. She didn’t want to go back to what they had. Apparently neither did he. So at least trying to become friends would make the next few weeks easier.

“Where’s Billy?”

“Beach with some friends,” Amanda announced casually. Then she paused and grinned. “You can’t believe how wonderful it feels to say that. We were always so worried about Rick’s reaction to everything that most of the time we didn’t talk. Telling him where Billy was was an invitation to get into an argument.” She shook her head. “It was no way to live.”

“No. It isn’t.”

That came from Cain and caused Liz’s head to swivel in his direction. Not only was he not one to talk about such personal things, but his sympathetic tone was so unexpected she almost couldn’t believe it was he who had spoken.

“Men who abuse anyone weaker than they are are scum.” His voice gentled and he glanced at Amanda. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

Liz stared at him, suddenly understanding. He’d never been a bad person, simply an overly busy person who had never stopped long enough to pay attention to anything that didn’t pop up in front of him. Amanda and her children were no longer an “issue” to him. They were people with names and faces and lives. It lightened Liz’s heart that he didn’t just recognize that; he genuinely seemed to care for them.

Still, the conversation could potentially dip into subjects too serious for Joy’s ears. “Well, that’s all over now,” Liz said, turning to the little girl. “And how did you like your playdate?”

Joy leaned across the table. “It was fun. Maddie has a cat.”

“A huge monster cat!” Amanda said, picking up the platter of chicken and spearing a barbecued breast. “I swear I thought it was a dog when I first saw it.”

They laughed.

“Do you have a cat?” Joy asked Liz.

“No. No cat for me. I’m allergic.”

“It means she can’t be around them or she’ll sneeze,” Amanda explained to Joy as she passed the beans to Cain.

“I didn’t know you were allergic to cats.”

That was Cain. His words were soft, not sharp or accusatory, but trepidation rippled through her, reminding her of another reason she and Cain couldn’t be more than coworkers. She had bigger secrets than an allergy to cats. From the day she’d met him she’d kept her father’s abuse a secret. Plus, she’d never told him they’d created a child, and then she’d lost that child.

If they weren’t with Amanda, this might have been the time to tell him. They’d had a reasonably pleasant afternoon. They’d both silently stated their intention not to get involved, but to try to be friends. That had created a kind of bond of honesty between them, which would have made this the perfect time to at least tell him about his child.

But they weren’t alone.

Liz turned her attention to the platter of chicken that had come her way. “You didn’t have a cat. I didn’t have a cat. It never came up.”

He accepted her answer easily, but shame buffeted her, an unexpected result of spending so much time in his company. With him behaving like a good guy, a normal guy, a guy who wanted to get beyond their sexual chemistry and be friends, the secrets she’d kept in their marriage suddenly seemed incredibly wrong.

She hadn’t told him that her dad had abused her, her mom and her sisters because at the time she was working to forget that. To build a life without her other life hanging over her head. She hadn’t told him about her miscarriage because she’d needed help herself to accept it. And she’d had to leave him to get that help.

But three years later, so far beyond both of those problems that she could speak about each without breaking down, she wondered about the wisdom of having kept her secrets from him.

Would their marriage have been different if she’d admitted that as a child she’d been poor, hungry and constantly afraid?

Would he have been different if she’d turned to him for comfort in her time of need?

She’d never know the answer to, either, but the possibility that she could have changed her marriage, saved it, with a few whispered words, haunted her.

Sitting at the kitchen table of Amanda’s house the next morning, finishing a cup of coffee after eating delicious blueberry pancakes, Liz smiled shakily at Cain as he stepped into the room. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

She might have kept secrets but she and Cain were now divorced, trying to get along while they worked together, not trying to reconcile. For that reason, she’d decided that the story of her abusive father could remain her secret. But as she had paced the floor the night before, working all this out in her brain, she realized how much she wanted to tell him about their baby.

When they divorced, she had been too raw and too hurt herself to tell him. By the time she’d gotten herself together, their paths never crossed. But now that their paths hadn’t merely crossed, they were actually intersecting for the next several weeks; she couldn’t keep the secret from him any more. He’d created a child. They’d lost that child. He deserved to know. And she wanted to tell him.

Which left her with two problems. When she’d tell him and how she’d tell him. She might be ready to share, but he might not be ready to hear it. She had to be alert for another opportunity like the one the day before…except when they were alone, not with other people.

Amanda turned from the stove. “Are you hungry, Cain? I’m making blueberry pancakes.”

It was clear that Amanda reveled in the role of mom. Without the constant fear of her abusive husband she had blossomed. Joy was bright-eyed and happy, a little chatterbox who had entertained Liz all through breakfast. Amanda’s only remaining problem was Billy, her sixteen-year-old son. They hadn’t been away from their violent father long enough for any one of them to have adjusted, but once they had, Liz was certain Amanda would think of some way to connect with her son.

As far as Amanda’s situation was concerned, Liz could relax…except for Cain, who hesitated just inside the kitchen door. Had he figured out she’d kept secrets bigger than an allergy to cats? Was he angry? Would he confront her? She couldn’t handle that. Telling him about their baby had to be on her terms. That would be better for both of them. It would be horrible if he confronted her now.

Finally he said, “I’ve already eaten breakfast.”

Relief wanted to rush out of her on a long gust of air, but she held it back. She’d instructed him to take everything Amanda offered. The day before he could have easily begged off her barbecue by saying it was time to go home. But he couldn’t so easily walk away from breakfast when he would be staying all morning.