Blossom Street (Books 1-10). Debbie Macomber

his actions—especially in the way he loved Aurora and his grandchildren. He respected Elise’s feelings, never argued with her or defended himself. He seemed sincere. She didn’t want to trust him, knew she shouldn’t allow him into her life, but nevertheless found herself drawn to him.

      The timer in the laundry room went off and Elise dried her hands before transferring the freshly laundered clothes from the dryer to a clothes basket. Aurora was meeting with Bethanne about Luke’s birthday party. She’d loved Elise’s suggestion about hiring Bethanne and insisted on paying the cost herself. She and Elise had engaged in a good-natured argument about it and finally decided Elise would pay for the cake.

      Realizing Aurora would be pressed for time, Elise had started dinner. She’d already prepared the sauce and grated cheese for a family favorite that went by the rather inelegant name of “spaghetti pie.”

      In a few minutes she’d folded her grandsons’ play clothes. Rather than leave them in the laundry area, she carried them to the boys’ room. Since Maverick’s arrival, she’d stayed away from that room. If she wanted him to respect her privacy, then it was important she afford him the same rights.

      She opened the top dresser drawer and discovered that Aurora had given it to Maverick. Instantly she closed it and found that the second and third drawers were for Luke and John’s clothes. She quickly and neatly put away the shorts and T-shirts. Elise knew what she should do next—turn around and walk away. But she couldn’t resist…. She’d noticed the edge of a picture frame in Maverick’s drawer. It was none of her business whose picture it was or why he’d buried it at the bottom of a drawer.

      Turning swiftly, she started toward the door, then pivoted back, heart pounding. On the small table next to the bottom bunk, she saw a book Maverick was currently reading, and a coffee cup. But no photographs.

      Suddenly she couldn’t stand it any longer. Why torment herself like this? One peek would tell her whose picture it was, and her curiosity would be satisfied. Sliding open the drawer, she stared down. The edge of the frame stuck out from under his T-shirts. The frame itself was silver and slightly tarnished.

      One look, she decided again. Okay, it would be a violation of his privacy, but a minor one. Not that she usually approved of such … such subjective morality. No, she’d be honest about this. Looking at the photograph was wrong. But she was going to do it, anyway. She wouldn’t touch it. All she’d do was lift the shirts. Knowing Maverick, it was probably a picture from some blackjack tournament he’d won.

      Pulse hammering, she lifted the shirts with one finger—and froze. Her lungs refused to function. The photograph was of her.

      He’d taken the picture shortly after she’d learned she was pregnant with Aurora. They’d been walking through a nearby park, and he’d snapped it just as she turned from examining a rosebush. Her eyes shone with love and excitement. This was before the disillusionment had truly taken hold, before she’d been forced to face the truth about the man she’d married. But at that moment, her heart full of happiness unlike any she’d known before or since, he’d captured her image. She’d been a woman in love, a woman dreaming of the future, of her baby, of being a family.

      Elise stared at the woman in the photo and bit her lip, surprised by the flood of memories. Of emotions.

      “Do you remember when I took that?” Maverick asked, standing just inside the bedroom.

      Elise gasped, leaping back from the chest of drawers, hand flying to her heart. She was shocked that she hadn’t heard him enter the house. Even more than shocked, she was embarrassed that he’d caught her looking at her own photo. Hidden in his drawer. In his room.

      “I … I apologize,” she murmured, unable to look at him.

      “For what? Snooping?”

      Mortified, she kept her head turned away and nodded. “I … I should never—I am so sorry. I can only imagine what you must be thinking.”

      “You didn’t answer my question.”

      All she wanted was to escape. “I don’t recall your question.”

      “I asked,” he said slowly and deliberately, “if you remembered when I took that picture.”

      Rather than answer verbally, she nodded.

      “I’ve carried it with me all these years,” he said quietly. “But then it started to fall apart so I bought this frame.”

      “Oh.”

      “I wanted you with me.”

      “We’re divorced,” she reminded him sharply. She didn’t want to remember what it felt like to abandon herself to loving him. She was acutely aware of how close he was, only footsteps away. She smelled the scent of his aftershave, the same brand he’d worn when they were married. She didn’t recall the name but the fresh, woodsy smell wafted toward her like an aphrodisiac. Against her will, she swayed closer, afraid for those few seconds that she’d collapse at his feet.

      Maverick walked into the room and stood before her. “I told you this already,” he said. He placed his index finger under her chin and raised her head until their eyes met. “I loved you then. I’ve loved you all this time. I love you now.”

      The thickness in her throat made it impossible to speak, so she shook her head.

      “I know,” he whispered, “It wasn’t enough—it isn’t enough. But it’s all I ever had.”

      She realized he would have kissed her if not for the arrival of Luke and John. The boys burst into the room like a tornado touching down, all arms and legs, fighting and furious. Apparently they’d gotten into a squabble while putting their bikes in the garage.

      With obvious reluctance, Maverick broke away from her and immediately took charge of the situation. Elise used the opportunity to escape. Returning to the kitchen, she gripped the counter with both hands, breathing hard. Her ex-husband had been about to kiss her, and that was shock enough, but knowing she would’ve let him made her knees go weak.

      Thankfully, she had something to occupy her hands. Elise finished the salad and vigorously stirred the tomato and meat sauce simmering on the stove. She then put on a large pot of water to boil the spaghetti noodles. Everything would go together in a casserole dish, along with the grated cheese.

      When the garage door closed twenty minutes later, she sighed with relief; either Aurora or David was home.

      It was her daughter who stepped in from the garage. When she saw that Elise had begun dinner, Aurora let out a cry of delight.

      “Oh, Mom, thank you so much!” She hugged her mother tightly.

      “Thank me for what?” she asked. “Dinner? I try to help as much as I can.” As she spoke, she drained the spaghetti and assembled the ingredients, stirring in the cheese last.

      “No, I mean, yes, thanks for that, but Mom, thank you for telling me about Bethanne. She’s fabulous! She had a dozen different ideas, but we’re going with the dinosaur motif.” Beaming, she hugged her again. “Until I talked to her, I was planning to take everyone out for pizza and ice cream, and that would’ve been fine. But for the same amount of money, Luke is going to have a spectacular party that he’ll always remember.”

      Elise’s instincts had been right. Busy parents would be willing to pay for a party that was different and specially designed around their children’s interests.

      “Gayle from across the street went with me and she booked a party, too, even though Sonja’s birthday isn’t for another month.”

      “That’s wonderful.” Elise smiled broadly. Opening the oven door, she slid the round casserole dish inside.

      “What’s up?” Maverick asked, coming into the kitchen. His gaze went directly to Elise.

      “One of the women in my knitting group needs a job. It’s complicated,” she said, not wanting to go into the long drawn-out story