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“Embarrassment burns a lot of calories.”
Sara followed that statement with another spoonful of ice cream. “I’m thinking of writing a diet book.”
“I don’t think your diet will catch on,” Janey said.
“It’s not the most pleasant way to lose weight.”
Janey shook her head. “It’s just that most women can’t stick to a diet for six days. You’ve been embarrassing yourself over Max for what, six years now?”
Sara dropped her spoon into the carton and sat back in her chair. Having the last half decade of her life boiled down to that one basic truth made her feel like throwing up.
“I’m sorry, Sara. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. But it’s only a matter of time before someone’s seriously injured or you’re completely bankrupt or both.”
“Yeah, a short time,” Sara agreed. “I almost wish I could stop loving Max. The only problem is how do I do it?”
Dear Reader,
I’ve always believed that humor is an essential part of love and marriage. After eighteen years, three kids and numerous pets, there’ve been times when my choice was to either laugh or scream. You know what I’m talking about, right? The kids give each other haircuts or the new puppy chews a hole in the living-room carpet and everyone else finds it hilarious, so you just have to laugh along with them.
Sara Lewis is having a lot of those moments lately, except she doesn’t need dogs or kids to be accident-prone. All she needs is Max Devlin. One look at him and she can’t remember she has feet, let alone what to do with them. Before she knows it, she’s involved in some sort of accident, and Max is laughing along with the whole town. Worse yet, everyone in the small, eccentric community of Erskine, Montana, knows she’s in love with him—everyone but Max!
When she confesses the truth, Max discovers just what she’s been going through—because suddenly he’s having accidents of his own. Can he overcome the messy divorce in his past and open his heart again before Sara leaves town for good—not only for his and Sara’s sake, but for the good of his eight-year-old son?
I hope you love Sara, Max and Joey, and their story, as much as I enjoyed bringing it to life. And look for the story of Sara’s best friend, Janey Walters, coming in September 2005.
Penny McCusker
Mad About Max
Penny McCusker
MILLS & BOON
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For Mom and Dad; it started fifty-five years ago. Nine kids, seventeen grandkids and eight great-grandkids later it’s still going strong. That’s love. And maybe a little insanity.
Contents
Chapter One
“Please tell me that wasn’t superglue.”
Sara Lewis tore her gaze away from the gorgeous—and worried—blue eyes of Max Devlin, looking up to where her hands were flattened against the wall over his head. Even when she saw the damning evidence squished between her right palm and her third-grade class’s mangled Open House banner, she refused to admit it, even to herself.
If she admitted she was holding a drained tube of superglue in her hand, she might begin to wonder if there’d been any stray drops. And where they might have landed. That sort of speculation would only lead her to conclusions she’d be better off not drawing, conclusions like there was no way a stray drop could have landed on the floor. Not with her body plastered to Max’s. No, that kind of speculation would lead her right smack-dab into trouble.
As if she could have gotten into any more trouble.
She’d been standing on a chair, putting up the banner her third-grade class had created to welcome their parents to Erskine Elementary’s Open House. But her hands had jerked when she heard Max’s voice out in the hallway, and she’d torn it clear in half. She’d grabbed the tube of glue off her desk to save the irreplaceable strip of laboriously scrawled greetings and brilliant artwork, and jumped back on her chair, only to find Max already there. He’d grabbed one end of the banner, then dived for the other as it fluttered away. Now he was spread-eagled against the wall, clutching both ends of the banner, trapped by Sara and her chair.
She’d pulled the ragged ends of the banner together, but just as she’d started to glue them, Max had turned around and nearly knocked her over. “Hold still,” she’d said sharply, not quite allowing herself to notice that he was facing her now, that perfect male body against hers, that heart-stopping face only inches away. Instead, she’d asked him to hold the banner in place while she applied the glue. The rest was history. Or in her case infamy.