them. He went into a nearby ice-cream parlor, and Pip dug into his pocket for the ten-dollar bill.
“Want an ice-cream cone?” he asked Kelsey, who nodded eagerly.
A bubbly blond waitress and a more somber-looking older woman stood behind the counter. The man the children had been following headed straight for the blonde.
Pip placed his order with the other woman, watching the man out of the corner of his eye, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
The man was leaning on the counter, smiling that crooked smile at the blonde, who seemed to find it as appealing as Pip had.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, sounding to Pip a bit breathless.
“What do you recommend?” the man asked, leaning closer.
“How about a hot-fudge brownie supreme?” she suggested, batting her long eyelashes.
Pip thought she looked kind of goofy hanging all over the guy like that. Personally, he preferred the dark-haired woman in the doll shop to this one. He didn’t think he’d care for a mom who giggled and twirled her hair.
The man flirted with the waitress a few more minutes before making his selection. Pip and Kelsey already had their ice-cream cones and were sitting at a tiny round table, eating and watching.
“Here you go,” the waitress said, sliding a towering concoction of fudge, ice cream and whipping cream across the counter to the man. “What’s your name, anyway?” she asked a bit too casually.
“Max. What’s yours?”
“Brittany. Do you play football?” she asked, nodding toward the ball he held under one arm.
“Some of my buddies get together and play most Sunday afternoons at City Park. Come by some time,” he said. “We can always use another player.”
Brittany giggled. “I don’t much like to play, but maybe I’ll be a cheerleader.”
Pip groaned.
Max only nodded. “See you around, Brittany.”
He carried his ice cream to a small table not far from the one Pip and Kelsey had chosen. He caught Pip’s eyes, paused a moment as though in surprised recognition, then smiled and turned his attention to his ice cream.
Max, Pip thought reflectively. Nice name.
He wondered how Max felt about video games and Batman.
Pip and Kelsey finished their cones before Max had half finished his own treat. Still trying to be inconspicuous, they went out into the mall and pretended to look into shop windows until he finally emerged.
They watched as he roamed aimlessly around the mall, tossing the football from hand to hand and stopping occasionally to peer into a window. Both Pip and Kelsey were excited when Max walked past the doll shop, stopped, looked back over his shoulder and then went inside.
“He’s in there with her! ” Kelsey squealed. “Come on, Pip, let’s go watch.”
Pip bit his lower lip, torn between caution and curiosity. Curiosity won out.
“Okay,” he said. “But stay quiet and don’t call attention to us, you hear?”
“Okay, Pip,” Kelsey said absently, her little sneakers already moving toward Beautiful Babies.
2
MAX MONROE FELT more than a bit out of place in the doll shop. He tucked the new football more snugly beneath his arm and wandered through the crowded aisles, eyeing the rows of smiling plastic faces and wondering how a person went about selecting one. Should he just grab the first doll that caught his eye? Were certain dolls more appropriate than others for a girl of a certain age? How was a guy sup-posed to know these things?
He looked around for help.
A dark-haired, dark-eyed woman was already headed his way, wearing a plastic name tag with a doll’s face painted on it identifying her as a store employee. She smiled, and Max promptly forgot why he’d come in.
Nice smile, he thought. Nice face. Great body. A particularly nice left hand. No rings.
“May I help you find something?” she asked, and her voice was more musical than the Christmas carols that filled the air.
He gave her his best helpless-male smile. “I could certainly use some assistance,” he assured her. Especially from you, he added silently.
“Are you looking for a gift?”
“A Christmas present for my niece.” He checked the woman’s name tag as he spoke. Ryan Clark. The word owner was printed in small letters beneath her name.
“How old is your niece?” Ryan Clark asked him.
Max had to think a minute. “Five? Six, maybe.”
“You aren’t sure?”
With a rueful shrug, he shook his head. “My sister and her family live in Hawaii. I don’t get to see them often, I’m afraid. But I’m pretty sure Jenny is five.”
“I see. Well, maybe a baby doll would be most appropriate. Little girls of all ages love something they can cuddle.”
Max liked the sound of that. He took a step closer. “Yeah. Something to cuddle sounds good to me.”
Ryan Clark shot him a suspicious look and took a step backward.
“For my niece, of course,” he added hastily.
Oops. Wrong approach with this one. The blonde at the ice-cream parlor would have responded with a blush and a giggle. Max actually preferred the stern reproval in Ryan Clark’s dark eyes. He always enjoyed a challenge.
“Of course,” she said, her voice now a bit chilly.
“Ryan, could you give me a hand here for a minute?” a harried-looking redhead called out from the sales counter, which was surrounded by impatient shoppers.
Ryan waved an acknowledgment. “Perhaps you’d like to look around a bit,” she suggested to Max. “The baby dolls are in that section. I’ll check back with you in a few minutes.”
“Sure, take your time,” he said magnanimously. “I’m in no hurry.”
He watched her full skirt sway around her very nice legs as she walked away. “No hurry at all,” he murmured.
Without much interest, he roamed the shop, stopping occasionally to study one doll or another. Frankly, they all looked pretty much alike to him.
He glanced at a few price tags and grew even more puzzled. Why were some of them ten bucks and others several hundred dollars? Who the hell could tell the difference?
A dark-haired doll in a blue-and-white dress caught his eye, and he chuckled. Funny. The doll reminded him a bit
