Page 18 of Be My Baby

Millie’s attention jerked straight toward his mother’s welcome and she plastered a smile on her face that covered her nervousness. A smile Max had witnessed so many times he could now see straight through it.

“Thank you, Mrs Jameson. It’s nice to be here again after so long.”

Years, in fact. Not since her own falling out with Ryan and then losing Lucy. He looked closer at his mother’s face, at the lines bracketing her mouth that deepened as she smiled at Millie. A very strained smile. Dread flooded Max’s gut at the obvious attempt to keep that smile on her face.

Oh, no.While he knew he had his father’s support, it looked like his mother might be another story altogether. Max knew she wouldn’t be rude to Millie, regardless, but if she didn’t like their plan to try for a child, she would definitely make that displeasure known to him. His stomach tumbled. What if it caused a problem between his mum and dad?

Simon flopped into a chair beside his wife, Amy, a cheesy grin beaming at Max. Simon tipped his glass in Max’s direction and winked conspiratorially.

Seriously, the idiot was as subtle as a sledgehammer.

“Millie, hey,” Gabe said as he hopped down the two steps from the kitchen. “You joining us today?”

“Nah, Gabe. She’s here to take a deposition,” Ryan teased, sarcasm dripping from his words.

Darby stared at Max, surprise raising her eyebrows high beneath her fringe. A slight, wary frown flickered across his sister’s face. Max shook his head almost imperceptibly. Darby’s expression evened out, then disappeared. She nodded, as if to herself.

Max let out a soft breath. At least they looked like they’d play along and not be too much of a pain in the ass. Millie didn’t mind good-natured teasing—to an extent. Beyond that and she got self-conscious and withdrawn.

He motioned Millie toward a spare seat beside Amy and pulled out the chair for her.

Simon snorted and took a large gulp of his drink, not looking in their direction. Max breathed deep and held it. He’d wring his brother’s neck if he couldn’t keep his overblown reactions under control and scared Millie off.

Max’s attention slid to Emma, sitting beside Darby. Emma leaned forward, her expression pleasant, although reserved, and Max could see the assessing glint in her eyes. She didn’t look at him at all, instead focused on Millie. Millie seemed to notice as she was about to sit down, her hand on the back of the seat.

Emma’s expression relaxed into a hesitant smile. “It’s nice to see you here, Millie.”

Max’s gut loosened from the clenching he hadn’t realised had made every muscle in his body tight and unyielding.

An olive branch. Thank God.

He and Emma had gotten on fine from the first moment she’d stepped into his bar. He knew she was a good-natured, easy-going person, but Millie had made Emma’s first few weeks in the Crossing a nightmare and he couldn’t help the nervousness that had peppered his gut wondering if Emma could forgive her.

Looks like I was worried for nothing.About Emma, anyway.

Millie sat and faced Emma, her back ramrod straight. It was only as he looked closely that he could see the faint tremble of her hand.

“Thanks, Emma. I appreciate that.”

Max glanced over at his father standing near the BBQ. A softness had entered his dad’s eyes when he’d seen Millie walk in beside him. Ed Jameson had always liked Millie and he’d often mentioned how he’d missed her company. He always made a point to speak with her the nights he and his mother made it to Friday night dinners at the Cow. Max knew his father had hated that she’d been on the outer with their family for so long, just as he’d also known Max and she were still friends.

His father’s gaze found his. Ed dipped his head and Max couldn’t help the smile that now widened his mouth. Max leaned down to Millie.

“Would you like a drink or anything, Mil?”

She looked up at him. The nervous tension seemed to have dissipated from her body. At least, enough for her to relax and hopefully enjoy herself.

Millie glanced at the selection of cold drinks on the lazy Susan in the middle of the table.

“Just a juice. I can get it.”

Max grabbed an empty glass and the juice bottle, placing both in front of her. “I’m just going to go talk to Dad for a minute. Will you be all right here?”

She sent him that imperious smirk that he loved and hated with equal intensity. He knew she used it to put people in their place, or when she was feeling ill at ease.

“I think I’ll manage.” Her words dripped with sarcasm, but the small smile behind them took any sting from them.

Max dipped his head. “Good to know.”

---