Maya tried scanning the sheets of legalese crossing the desk. Axell had discussed these things with her in their hurried conversations over breakfast or dinner, and they’d all made sense at the time. She’d rather trust him than argue. Taking a deep breath, she started signing where he indicated.
“You really ought to read those things before you sign them,” he admonished.
“I could read them until I’m blue in the face and still not know what they say,” she admitted. “Since I don’t possess anything anyone could possibly want, I figure I’m pretty safe unless one of these is titled ‘Articles of Indenture.’”
He smiled wryly as he arranged the sheets in their proper order and inserted them in their respective envelopes as she returned them to him. “I think that was part of the marriage contract. Didn’t you read it?”
Axell so seldom smiled, Maya sat back in his fancy office chair and basked in the moment
“Was that the part that came after ‘love, honor, and accept kitten litters’? I didn’t get beyond that.” Constance and Matty had just adopted a mama cat and her litter, insisting on bringing them home where they’d be more “comfortable.”
“You wouldn’t,” he agreed dryly, pushing back his chair. “I’m thinking of holding a contest at the bar and the winners get free cats. I almost walked on one when I got home the other night.”
He walked around the desk and offered a hand to help her from the chair. Axell’s thumb brushed her palm as she accepted his offer, and just that caress of sensitive nerve endings reminded her that this “business arrangement” between them had other aspects. It was just a matter of time before he claimed them. She glanced up to the smoky gray of his eyes and tried to envision his broad shoulders naked and looming over her. She didn’t know if it was fear or excitement clutching her insides at the thought.
She’d never so coldly entered into any kind of a relationship with a man. She lacked the innate practicality necessary to look at sex as a physical exercise one did for the sake of good health. She rather suspected that was exactly how Axell looked at it.
That realization always had her backing off whenever the electric jolt shocked her. Axell’s smile slipped away as she pulled free and started for the door, but he acknowledged her reaction in no other way. She’d almost rather he had a tantrum when he walked on stray cats at midnight or found purple blotches on his walls. She feared that going to bed with him would be like going to bed with their friendly neighborhood banker.
“Alexa and Matty both have doctor’s appointments this afternoon, so supper will be late and probably out of the freezer,” she warned, choosing not to respond to Axell’s earlier banter. It was easier to play the role of teacher than to deal with her conflicting emotions.
“I have to go into Charlotte to talk with the lawyers, so I’ll be running late too. Want me to eat at the bar?”
He didn’t have to be so damned understanding. Maya brushed his cheek with a kiss and opened the office door. “Just let me know so I won’t worry. See you later.”
She breezed out as if she hadn’t a care in the world — she shouldn’t have a care in the world. For the first time in her life she had a substantial roof over her head, money in her pocket, and copious amounts of food on the table, and all she had to do in return was love a child she would have loved anyway, and eventually, go to bed with a powerful man she would have only admired from a distance under other circumstances. Why did she feel as if disaster would strike at any minute?
Probably because Cleo hadn’t returned her letters, the state had inspectors crawling all over the school, Matty’s social worker had it in for Axell, Selene wasn’t having any luck pulling strings at DOT to have their access road repaired, and she had an automaton husband who would be expecting sex on demand in a few short weeks. At least Constance’s grandmother had gone back to Texas — for the time being.
Besides, she’d never known a day in her life when disaster wasn’t imminent. She’d learned to roll with the punches. She’d be getting soft if she didn’t watch out.
She’d left Matty playing and Alexa sleeping in the new shop with Teresa while she ran next door to sign Axell’s papers. She needed to pick up Constance at school and transport the kids to the Impossible Dream for afternoon classes. The BMW sedan would have more miles on it in a few weeks than Axell had put on it in a year.
She’d parked it in the alley beside the collapsed building so it wouldn’t be in the way of the work crew at the new shop. Knowing it was easier to load up Alexa and Matty if she pulled the car around, she hurried down the street, resisting checking on Alexa and the progress of the cleaning people. Cleo wouldn’t recognize her inventory when she returned. If she returned. Would Cleo just walk out of prison and disappear?
Trying not to think about that, Maya focused on a man in a ponytail standing in front of the falling down building, staring up at Cleo’s old apartment windows. He seemed vaguely familiar, but from a block away, and in this blinding sunlight, she couldn’t discern his features. Why on earth would anyone be studying a condemned building? Was this Cleo’s erstwhile landlord? She’d thought the old building belonged to some real estate conglomeration.
Something about the way he held himself made her nervous. Preferring not to find out why, she didn’t reach for her sunglasses but aimed for the alley. Before she could escape, however, the man turned in her direction, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.
Stephen.
Fate had a really cruel sense of humor when it chose disasters for her.
Maybe she should learn Axell’s narrow path of duty and responsibility and give up the emotional relationships that made her life hell. Maybe she could grow wings and fly.
“Maya!” Stephen hurried across the broken pavement and past the wilting yellow police tape to greet her. “Damn, you look gorgeous! This is the only address I have for you. Surely you’re not living here?”
Before she could manage a sensible thought, he’d crushed her in an exuberant hug.
Why had she once thought Stephen sexy? Only a few inches taller than she, he lacked Axell’s strength and breadth and probably couldn’t lift her if he tried — not that he’d ever tried anything so romantic. He would probably have written a song about the tribulations of fatherhood while she labored giving birth to Alexa. He had a boyish smile and a lovely voice and no character whatsoever. She smacked his T-shirted chest with both hands and shoved away.
“Swell of you to stop by, Stevie,” she mocked, swinging on her heel and heading down the alley for the car. “Give me a call sometime and we’ll do lunch.”
He hurried after her and grabbing her elbow, jerked her to a halt. Maya shot his encroaching hand a withering look, and he hastily released his grip.
“Look, Maya, I’m sorry, all right? Life’s a bitch sometimes, you know that. But I’ve got that recording contract,” he continued excitedly. “I can take you and the baby back to L.A. Where is she? Does she look like me? Where are you staying?”
Maya stared at him as if he were Peter Pan offering to fly her to Never-Never Land. How had she ever thought this irresponsible idiot was the man of her dreams?
She hadn’t, she realized. Stephen was fun, energetic, and talented. She’d once had hopes they could eventually make something of their relationship, but Cleo’s arrest had prematurely ended any chance of that. Her pregnancy had just been an unexpected result.
She could blame him for his shameless irresponsibility, but the truth was, she hadn’t been much better.
With a sigh, she released her temper. “You’ll have to overcome one or two preconceived notions, Stephen,” she said dryly. “One being that you ever have a remote chance of imitating fatherhood.”
“C’mon, Maya! I’ve been busy. How can I support a baby unless I’m making money? I’m on the brink now. The studio’s talking multi-albums, my agent’s lined up a tour, and we’re getting a percentage of gate. I can do it.”
She really didn’t want to take him to Alex
a, but what choice did she have? She’d never lied to him. It was a little late to start now. She fought back a familiar bubble of panic. “Look, I’ve got people waiting for me. Why don’t you go back to your hotel and new girlfriend and I’ll call you later, all right?”
“Zita? Is that what this is all about? Don’t worry about her. She’s just some jealous bitch who hung around the band and screwed things up a lot. I flew into Charlotte from Nashville and hitched a ride from the airport. I figured I could bunk with you until you packed things up. C’mon, let’s go to your place and I’ll baby-sit. How’s that?” He steered her eagerly from the alley toward the glass-plated storefronts lining the main street.
This was going to look real good. Word would be all over town in hours. Axell was probably watching from his office windows. What the hell was she supposed to do?
“I don’t expect you to remember these little details, Stevie,” she replied acidly, pulling out of his grasp again. Giving up on the car, she hurried toward the new shop. “But my sister got herself locked up, remember? And I flew out here because she has a little boy? None of that has changed.”
“I’ll ask my agent if he knows a good lawyer. We can make it work. C’mon, Maya...” He halted in front of her, forcing her to look at him. “What are you telling me? You picked up a new boyfriend while toting around my baby in your belly?”
He seemed to find the idea so ludicrous she briefly considered punching him for the insult. But remembering how ridiculous the idea really was, she let him off with a smirk and a verbal punch. “No, I picked up a husband, a word with which you’re not familiar.” Swinging around, she crossed the street and continued her progress toward the haven of company in the new store.
“A husband!” he screamed as he raced up behind her. “You’re insane! You can’t do that. That’s my kid. I’ve got my rights!”
“We’ll see about that, I guess. As far as I’m concerned, a minute’s worth of genetic material does not make you a father.” This was getting entirely out of hand. She hadn’t meant to expel all this bile in public, alienate Stephen, or create a scene of any sort. She’d hoped to have a reasonable conversation and settle matters quietly. She should have known she was incapable of any such rational behavior.
Stephen grabbed her elbow again. Beyond reason now, Maya swung around and slammed her fist into his belly. He had a damned hard belly and didn’t flinch an inch.
“Maya, dammit...”
“Having trouble, love? Next time, I’ll get you a pager with an alarm so you don’t have to break your fingers.” Axell strolled down the street in their direction, no hurry in his stride, but his eyes were that steely gray Maya recognized instantly.
Stephen dropped her arm and swung to confront the man in business suit and tie. Not completely unintelligent, Stephen relaxed his belligerent stance and stuck out his hand.
“I’m Stephen James, an old friend of Maya’s.” He said that with enough emphasis even a fool could take his meaning.
Axell was no fool. He didn’t take the extended hand. “I’m Axell Holm, Maya’s husband.” He turned to Maya and gently examined her bare elbow where Stephen had gripped it. “You bruise easily,” he commented without inflection.
She didn’t need auras or tarot or astrology to recognize the intense vibrations ricocheting between the two men. She’d suffer from testosterone inhalation if she stood between them too long.
“Redheads have thin skin,” she responded ambiguously. “I’m taking Stephen to see Alexa, but I really need to go pick up Constance and get over to the school. I don’t have time for discussions.”
“Arguments,” Axell corrected. “And you’re very good at weaseling out of them. I’ll get Constance and come back for you.” He nodded at Stephen. “We’ll talk later.”
Axell didn’t raise his voice, but the warning was clear. He might as well have posted a sign reading “Private Property. No Trespassing.” Maya bit back an inappropriate urge to giggle. Grown women didn’t giggle.
She stood on her toes and kissed Axell’s cheek, just to watch both men flinch. “Don’t slay any dragons on the way. You know how the scales litter the road.”
She thought he almost grinned. Instead, he caught her waist, planted a much sounder kiss on her lips, and when she almost went limp, he set her back down again. “I’ll just rip out his tongue and you can serve it for dinner. Don’t tell Matty, though, or he’ll turn vegetarian.”
“That’ll be the day.” Last night, Matty had managed to pick every pea out of the casserole she’d disguised them in.
As Axell calmly walked, Stephen growled in disgust. “You couldn’t wait, could you? You had to go for the money.”
Maya fisted her fingers and waved them in his face. “He doesn’t like me to break my fingers, Stevie. Do you want to see Alexa or take me to the hospital?”
“You’re a ditz, you know? A first class ditz. You’ve probably got the kid singing Aquarius.” As she swung open the door to the new shop, he caught and held it for her.
“No, I’m into country now. We sing in the sunshine.” Grateful for the wispy dress Axell had bought for her, Maya flaunted her newly slender figure past Stephen and into the chaos of the cleaning and unpacking of Cleo’s stock. They were immediately swamped with a thousand questions, but she was determined to get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible. With a wave of her hand, she walked past the crew and headed for the stairs and the kids.
“What are you doing, taking up shopkeeping? I thought you wanted to be a teacher.” Stephen followed close on her heels.
“I am a teacher. I’m part owner of a day school. This is Cleo’s. I’m just helping out while she’s away.”
“Away, yeah. That’s a polite way of putting it. C’mon, Maya. We know each other too well. You weren’t cut out for this small town shop-keeper thing. Why’d you do it? If it’s money, I’ll have money. I don’t want my kid growing up to be a country hick.”
If she were the confrontational type, she’d shove him down the stairs, Maya mused. Normally, aggression wasn’t her style. Maybe she’d absorbed a little of that loose testosterone. She didn’t even bother looking at him. She couldn’t imagine why she’d enjoyed looking at him before. Nordic gods were infinitely more appealing than skinny musicians with long hair. The adolescent tingle at the base of her belly threatened to ignite at the thought of Axell calmly stalking to her rescue.
“This is scarcely country. We’re minutes from one of the fastest growing cities in the South. If you’d open your narrow mind, you’d see this is an ideal place for a child to grow up, with all the benefits of city and country and none of the disadvantages of the artificial life in L.A. I’m never going back.”
Stephen didn’t reply. Teresa appeared with Alexa in her arms, and his attention was focused entirely on his daughter.
Maya bit her lower lip and wondered how she’d thought this would be easy. Or if she’d thought at all.
Twenty-two
Out of my mind, back in five minutes.
Axell gritted his teeth and tried to pleasantly question Constance about her day as they drove into town. He’d learned from Maya how to be a little more subtle. If he asked, “How’s your day?” which made sense to him, Constance would only grunt and shrug. If he asked, “Did the teacher judge your essay today?” he got a more direct response. But today, she seemed to pick up on his tension and did little more than cross her arms and glare out the window in unconscious imitation of him.
Being a parent was damned hard, harder even than persuading the town council to talk sense. Kids picked up on all the wrong signals and ignored the right ones. With a sigh, Axell tried the Maya approach. “All right, I’m upset, but not with you. Grown-ups get mad at lots of things that don’t have anything to do with kids.”
Steering the car around a particularly treacherous curve, Axell felt more than saw his daughter’s curious look.
“Maya gives me a code word to let me know when she’s angry with me.”
Constance shrugged. “Everybody gets mad. She says ‘we’ll talk’ is a good code word, ’cause that’s what most people say when they’re mad and trying not to show it.”
Amazed, Axell absorbed this tidbit. How many times had he said “we’ll talk” and meant he’d like to verbally chop someone into sushi? He’d probably said it to Maya. The damned woman was entirely too perceptive, and that seemingly open smile of hers hid a mind with more twists and turns than he’d ever explore in a million years. She was downright dangerous. And he’d left her back in that apartment with her lover. Shit.
“All right, then I’ll say ‘we’ll talk’ if I’m mad at you,” he forced his thoughts back to Constance, “but it still means I just want to talk so we can work things out, okay?”
Constance considered that briefly, then nodded. “Okay. Are you mad at Maya?”
Realizing they were actually having a conversation, Axell was almost disappointed that they had reached town. Communicating with his daughter could have some real benefits. “Yeah, I’m probably mad at Maya, but it’s not her fault. And I’m madder because I got mad, and I don’t like to lose my temper.”
Constance grinned. “That’s what Maya said. She says you get mad at yourself and not me.”
“I’m beginning to think Maya is a witch,” he muttered as he parked in front of Cleo’s shop.
“Like Glinda, the Good Witch.” Constance nodded knowingly. “Their hair is a lot alike.”
Axell chuckled. “Except red.”
“I wish my hair was red,” Constance said wistfully as she unbuckled her seat belt.
“Your hair is just right the way it is. It matches your eyes. You’ll be beautiful like your mother one of these days.”
“I want to be pretty like Maya,” Constance replied with an almost rebellious tone as they entered the store.
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