A Weaver Wedding

by ALLISON LEIGH,

  And what was the point of establishing a shop when you’d have to leave it just a few months later?

  Axel swiped a little sugar cookie and snapped it off between his straight, white teeth. “Tasty.” He popped the rest in his mouth. “You lost your parents when you were pretty young.”

  It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway. “Twenty.” She filled the space he’d made on the tray and carried it out to place it on the counter near the register.

  The oversized pendulum clock on the wall said it was still fifteen minutes before opening time, but she slid the “open” sign into place and unlocked the door anyway.

  “Now what?” Axel was only a few feet behind her when she turned around again.

  “We wait for the customers to flood in.” Her voice was dry. Sometimes she went an entire day with only one or two sales.

  Fortunately, today, she didn’t have to worry about her profits, thanks to Axel buying the couch. For that matter, she wouldn’t have to worry for at least another month.

  She stood near the front door, taking in the entire shop with an objective eye so as to decide where to move what after the couch was gone. “I don’t suppose asking you to take the couch out now would do any good?”

  “Want me out of your hair?” He shook his head. “Sorry. Couch’ll wait.”

  She hadn’t expected otherwise. He wouldn’t be able to lift it on his own, anyway.

  Distraction or not, she’d just have to work around him. She went over to the old-fashioned telephone booth and stepped inside to take down the thin linen and lace chemise that was prominently displayed to replace it with a blue satin bustier.

  He tossed himself down again on his purchase. “I still think it’s a shame this thing isn’t in your house.”

  “If you’re uncomfortable at my house, you know what to do about it.” She made the mistake of glancing at him through the glass booth and found her gaze trapped in the intensity of his.

  You and I are going to make love on that couch.

  “Leave,” she concluded, sounding strangled.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “You didn’t have trouble leaving before.” The words were out before she could call them back.

  His jaw canted a little. “That was unavoidable. Something came up.”

  She made herself look back at the bustier she was doing a miserable job of hanging. “Business?”

  His hesitation was brief. “Yes.”

  Everything inside her froze.

  Because she was absolutely certain that he’d just lied.

  Chapter Nine

  It was nearly noon before Axel could see the nervous tension finally drain out of Tara’s slender shoulders as she busied herself in the brief spaces of time between the customers who came into her shop.

  “I can’t believe all the sales I’ve had this morning,” she commented yet again as the latest shopper headed out into the cold laden with distinctive shopping bags. They were now alone in the shop. She was sitting on a high, narrow stool behind the counter, thumbing through her sales receipts. “I’ve never made this many sales in one week, much less one morning.”

  “Face it. I’m bringing you good luck.”

  Her smile was pained. “More like people are curious about what you supposedly see in me.”

  “Anyone with two eyes in their head understands that.”

  She grimaced and clipped the receipts together before sliding them under the counter, then stretched her arms out behind her.

  The motion tightened her blue blouse against the taut swell of her breasts.

  He wanted to gnash his teeth together as he made himself look away.

  He’d spent most of his time either unpacking crates in the back room, or lending muscle to move displays and racks wherever she pointed. He’d threaded silky, strappy little things onto fancy hangers. He’d folded and refolded tablecloths. He’d run a duster over shelves and turned pots of silk plants, which looked better than real, every which way until she’d been satisfied.

  Dozens of ordinary, busywork tasks that weren’t responsible at all for him feeling ready to climb right out of his skin.

  That was owed entirely to the other distractions of the day.

  Breathing in her soft, feminine scent every time she moved within two feet of him.

  Watching the grace of every movement she made.

  Listening to her lilting laughter as she dealt with customers, and feeling jealous as hell because that laughter wasn’t for him.

  Wanting her so damn badly that he ached all the way to his back teeth.

  He moved to the wide, front window and could see Mason Hyde, his backup, sitting in the cab of a nondescript pickup truck across the street. Axel lifted his hand slightly.

  Proving himself as observant as ever, Mason opened the truck door and loped across the street. Seconds after that, the bell over the door jingled softly as he entered and doffed his dark brown cowboy hat.

  Tara was already looking toward him with her smile ready, but Axel spoke first. “This is Mason Hyde,” he introduced. “He’ll be my backup.”

  Alarm touched her face as she looked at the newcomer.

  “Ma’am.” Mason came toward her, his grizzly-sized hand outstretched. “Nice to meet you.”

  She shook his hand. “You, too.” Her gaze slanted toward Axel. “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head even as Mason offered a quick “No, ma’am.” Axel went over to the counter and took one of the few remaining cookies from the tray. It was a pitiful sop to the appetite that was really plaguing him. “I wanted you to meet Mason so you wouldn’t worry if you noticed him hanging around the vicinity.”

  “I tend to rotate vehicles,” Mason added. “Don’t want anyone taking much notice of me.”

  “Are you always out there watching from somewhere, then?” Her voice was faint.

  “I will be when Axel isn’t with you.”

  She shot Axel another quick look. “You mean you won’t actually have to be with me 24/7 after all?”

  She looked so hopeful, it was almost deflating. “I’m still staying with you at your place.”

  “Oh.” Her lips closed together.

  Definitely deflating. But this was about her safety, not him jonesing for her. “I do have to take care of some business this afternoon, though. Try not to hurt yourself jumping with glee. I’ll be back before you close up.”

  A tiny line came and went between her eyebrows. “Business.” She looked at Mason. “Will you be here in the shop, then, Mr. Hyde, or—” she waved her hand toward the window “—just out there somewhere?”

  “Just Mason, ma’ am. And I’ll be out there. But don’t worry yourself. I’ll never be more than a minute away.”

  “Keep the back door of your shop locked,” Axel commanded.

  “I know, I know,” she said with some exasperation. “You’ve told me a half-dozen times already today. And once again, I keep it locked when I’m here, anyway.” She slid the cookie platter away from his hand when he started to reach for it and held it, instead, toward Mason. “Would you like some cookies?”

  Mason’s craggy face split with a genuine smile. “Don’t mind if I do. Thanks.” He gathered up a handful—in Mason’s grip that meant almost every crumb that was left—and headed back toward the door again. “If all goes well, you won’t even have to see my ugly mug again.” The door jingled softly as it closed behind him.

  Tara dashed the cookie crumbs into the small trash container behind the counter. “If you’re bored and need an escape, Axel, just say so. You don’t need an excuse.”

  He needed an escape, but not from boredom. “I really do have something to take care of.”

  “Then go.” She waved her hand toward the door only to drop it again when the door jingled and Courtney walked in.

  “Should have known I’d find you here.” Courtney patted his cheek as she stopped in front of the counter. “Give the woman a break, now and then, why don’t
you? It’ll give her a chance to realize that you’re not entirely annoying and that she misses you.”

  As long as there was laughter in Courtney’s eyes, Axel would be the target of her humor every day of the week and five times on Sunday. “Never thought of that.”

  “He was just on his way out, actually,” Tara told his cousin. “Weren’t you?”

  The fact that she couldn’t wait to get rid of him—however temporarily it might be—felt like a burr under his skin.

  He looped his hand around Tara’s neck and saw the flare of her widening eyes when he lowered his head and pressed his mouth against hers.

  Just for a moment. Not nearly as long as he wanted. Not nearly as deep as he wanted. But just a moment.

  A helluva moment.

  He lifted his head. Smiled into her half-dazed, half-furious face. “I’ll be back soon, babe.” With a wink at his cousin, he sauntered out the front door.

  “Babe,” he heard Courtney repeat. “I find it so annoying when a guy calls—” The door jingled, closing off Courtney’s indignant voice.

  Mason had his head buried under the hood of his truck, looking like a guy with engine trouble. Axel crossed the street some distance away and headed toward the sheriff’s station. Only two cruisers and Max’s SUV were parked in the adjoining lot.

  He went inside and before he even had a chance to open his mouth, the unfamiliar, middle-aged woman at the front desk directed him back to Max’s office.

  He passed through to his cousin-in-law’s office and shut the door behind him. Max was kicked back in his countyissued chair with one boot on the corner of his desk.

  “Working hard as usual, I see.”

  Max grinned. “Somebody’s gotta do it. You gonna pay that parking ticket you got the other day?”

  Axel pulled out one of the chairs in front of the desk and sat. “Maybe. Your dispatcher send everyone back here without bothering to find out who they are first?”

  Max dropped his boot off the desk and sat up. “Julia knows more of the faces in this town than I do,” he said wryly. “And has only been in town about a year.” He glanced at his watch. “What time were you planning to meet Tristan here?”

  “Ten minutes ago. I figured I’d be the one who was late.”

  The door opened before he’d even finished speaking and his uncle filled the doorway. “You were late,” Tristan said. He took the second chair. “Max. Appreciate the use of your office.”

  “Any time.” The sheriff rose and sauntered to the door. “But I know how you spy boys like your privacy and I think I hear lunch at Ruby’s calling my name.”

  Tristan waited until the door was closed once again. “I never thought anyone would be as good a sheriff as Sawyer was, but Max is doing fine.”

  “Why’d you want to meet over here and not at CeeVid?”

  Tristan looked grim. “I’m concerned about the security there.”

  Axel sat up a little straighter. “It’s your own company.” Nobody was better when it came to security than his uncle was. It didn’t matter if it was governmental, Hollins-Winword, or the unrelated video-gaming company Tristan had started on a lark when he’d been younger than Axel was now.

  “So you can imagine my pleasure.” Tristan seemed to shake it off. “But I’ll get that taken care of in time. Right now, I want to know how it’s going with Tara.”

  Axel’s antennae went even more finely tuned. “It’s going according to book. Which my reports say. Why?”

  “Sloan’s still concerned.”

  “He’s damn sure shown that by cutting off contact with her all these years.” It annoyed the hell out of him. Sloan was Tara’s family. Her only family.

  And as far as Axel was concerned, family didn’t go around hurting family.

  Sloan was doing it. Ryan was doing it.

  Hell, Axel was doing it by keeping quiet about Ryan.

  Tristan’s expression didn’t change but Axel knew that he’d piqued his uncle’s interest, and wished he’d controlled his tongue. If Tristan learned what had happened between Axel and Tara, he’d yank him from the assignment faster than Axel could blink. “I’m not going to let anything touch Tara.”

  “Despite the phone call you had me set up between them, Sloan’s obviously not convinced.”

  “Tara isn’t like Maria. She’s not constantly trying to circumvent me.” Maria Delgado had, and had paid a fatal price for which Sloan still held Axel accountable. “So tell him to worry about his own skin instead of Tara’s. Is there a line, yet, on the hit?”

  “Nobody’s been able to tie it back to the Deuces,” Tristan said. “It’s odd, but it doesn’t necessarily mean much.” His gaze was sharp. “How’s it really going with her? You two seem…close.”

  Axel kept his expression easy, but it took an effort. “I wish her schedule weren’t so predictable,” he admitted. “She’s way too accessible.”

  “A safe house would be better,” Tristan agreed.

  “But she’d never agree to leave that old place of hers. Or put the shop in someone else’s hands. She doesn’t think the threat will ever reach her.”

  His uncle clapped Axel on the shoulder, then stood. “Maybe it won’t and no one will be the worse off. In any case, I know you don’t need the reminder, but keep your reports confined to the network. And don’t make any visits to CeeVid. If you get antsy about location, then damn what Sloan wants. You get Tara out of there, one way or another. Your dad’s place. The big house. Even your cabin. They’re all better than her place. Sloan would rather have his sister alive and hopping mad, than harmed.”

  “The trial is supposed to start this week in Chicago. Is McCray there?”

  “I don’t know where Sloan is,” Tristan admitted. “He’s gotten too skittish to even tell me. But he’s put everything in his life on the line for too long not to see this thing finally be put to bed. He’s not going to jeopardize that by failing to testify when he’s called, no matter what.” He reached for the door and opened it. “Think I’ll head over to Ruby’s myself. You want to come?”

  Axel shook his head and followed his uncle out the door. “I want to get back to Tara.”

  His uncle just didn’t know that Axel’s desire went considerably deeper than professional pride.

  When they left the station, Tristan walked one direction, heading for the diner and Axel headed the other.

  The sky was turning gray as the clouds moved in at a rapid clip. He flipped up the collar of his jacket, jaywalking between the light traffic as he hustled back to the shop.

  Inside, it was comfortably warm and smelled of peppermint and coffee.

  Tara glanced at him when the door jingled, then turned back to the balding guy she was helping at one of the racks in the corner. Axel had begun thinking of it as the lingerie corner. “What about this one, Tom?” she asked the customer as she pulled out a long, silky-looking nightgown. “Your wife looks at this negligee every time she comes in here. It would make a lovely gift.”

  Axel leaned against the counter and paged through a magazine that hadn’t been sitting there when he’d left. The magazine where Tara had once worked. But he wasn’t really interested in the pages of home decorating tips and photographs. Nor was he particularly interested in the red flush rising up the back of Tom Griffin’s neck as the man gingerly touched the garment.

  “I dunno, Tara,” Tom said and then hesitated. “My Janie likes flannel. Been wearing it practically every night since we got married.”

  “It’s your fifteenth anniversary,” Tara countered in a gentle, encouraging tone. “I’ll bet she’ll love getting silk from you.”

  Tom shot Axel a look that Axel pretended not to notice. “It’s not the cost,” the other man sort of whispered to Tara. “But it’s just awful…well…sexy, dontcha think? What’re the kids gonna say when their ma is fixing them breakfast wearing that thing?”

  “With the matching robe, it’s perfectly modest,” Tara assured him just as softly. “But don’t think of it
in terms of breakfast with the kids. Think of it in terms of a very nice anniversary gift. Trust me, Tom. Janie will love it and she’s going to love wearing it for you.”

  Tom’s head turned such a bright red it could have doubled as a train signal.

  Axel flipped another page, hiding his amusement.

  “Okay.” Tom pulled out his wallet. “But I guarantee she’ll wanna return it the second she opens it.”

  “Then you can blame me,” Tara said as she went behind the counter and slipped the fabric off its fancy hanger. “But if she doesn’t, I’m going to expect to see you in here again before her birthday. There’s a bustier that she’s been eyeing, too. That blue one there in the phone booth.”

  Tom looked vaguely horrified as he looked toward the phone booth. The satin and lacy thing hung inside as if a scantily clad, invisible woman was waiting there to make a telephone call. But he handed over a wad of cash and waited while Tara wielded tissue paper and a silver box.

  “I can gift wrap it, if you like,” she offered.

  “I usually just give the stuff to her like it is.”

  Tara hesitated half a beat, her smile never wavering. “Okay.” She started to slide the box into one of her fancy shopping bags.

  Tom’s increasingly harried gaze shifted to Axel.

  “I’d go with the wrapping,” Axel advised. Lord knew all the women in his family seemed to go gaga when something came in pretty paper and fancy ribbons.

  “Mebbe you’d better wrap it,” Tom told Tara hurriedly.

  “Whatever you like.” She slid the box out of the shopping bag. “I’ll just be a moment.” Taking it with her, she went into the back room.

  “Good choice,” Axel said in a low voice.

  Tom made a face. He was practically whispering too, obviously hoping his comment wouldn’t carry to the back room. “Janie’s gonna think I’ve gone outta my tree bringing something home like that.”

  “She might be glad that you still think she’s hot enough to wear something like that.”

  Tom’s brow furrowed. “You think?”

  Axel shrugged. “What do I know, man? You’re the one who’s been married fifteen years.”