The Nanny with the Skull Tattoos by Elizabeth Barone Page B

stop at a gas station on the way home and get her flowers to apologize, and then he would find a way to make their weird living arrangement into a real relationship.
    His stomach did flip flops as he unbuckled Chloe from her car seat. He wasn’t naive enough to think that he and Savannah would get married, have more babies, and live happily ever after, but they could definitely be happy in the meantime. As he walked to the front door, he whistled a tune from an old Megadeth album. He couldn’t remember the last time he had just put his headphones on and relaxed to music. For the first time, Max was starting to feel like he was getting his life together.
    He hesitated at the front door, raising a fist. He had never knocked when he lived at home. He glanced at the doorbell. Maybe the more formal thing to do would be to ring it. Before he could debate further, Chloe reached out and pushed the button, a grin crossing her face. Eyes widening, Max pushed the front door open.
    “Merry Christmas,” he called, kicking off his sneakers into the pile of shoes beside the door. Out of habit, he started to slip his feet into slippers, then remembered that he no longer had any there. His parents’ house was not his home anymore.
    Biting his lip, he unzipped Chloe’s coat and pulled off her shoes. Then, lowering her to the floor, he released her into his parents’ home. She darted from the foyer toward the living room. Instrumental Christmas music piped through the speakers. Max rolled his eyes. Shuffling forward in socks dingy from walking around his apartment, he headed toward the living room. Loud laughter drowned out the music for a moment. Max cringed, hoping Chloe wasn’t causing any trouble. He hadn’t seen his parents since moving out, and part of him wanted to prove that he could do just fine on his own.
    He walked into the living room with his head held high. His brothers sat around the room, holding glasses of eggnog. Even though he wasn’t far from twenty-one, he knew his mother wouldn’t let him have any. Not that it mattered. He needed to drive home without being pulled over, anyway. He gave each of his brothers a nod and a wave, but they didn’t seem to notice him. Their attention was focused on the other side of the room. Max followed their gazes, then froze when he saw who also sat in the living room.
    His parents occupied the couch, his mother leaning back against the cushions. She held a glass of wine in her hand, her curly hair framing her face. Despite how much it sucked to get kicked out, Max had to admit that she looked happier. The light from the Christmas tree and the sun outside danced across her face, making her look years younger. Maybe helping out with Chloe had been too much for her.
    Even his father looked more relaxed. The conversation in the room centered on football rather than the law firm—a first for the Batista family. Having their home all to themselves was doing wonders for his parents. Still, it wasn’t enough to excuse what they had done.
    Max stared at the young woman sitting between them. She held a glass of what was probably not virgin eggnog in her hand. She wore a black sweater dress and bracelets that jingled against each other as she moved. Her blonde hair was twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her blue eyes caught Max’s brown eyes as he stood in the entryway to the living room, and she smiled.
    Nicole actually smiled at him, as if what happened between them more than two years before had been nothing.
    Max gaped, his fists curling at his sides.
    His mother nudged Nicole’s shoulder, laughing about something. So far, only Nicole had noticed that he was in the room. Blood pounded in his ears. His breathing slowed, catching in his throat. It felt like he couldn’t get enough air. The living room floor tilted up at him, his ears ringing.
    Nicole wiggled her fingers at him in a hello, and his heart dropped into his stomach. His mother glanced into the arched doorway and