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The Keeper

Page 11

by Rhonda Nelson

Mariette knew she would.

  “Okay,” she said, handing her helper the plates. “Hurry,” she said. “Jay gets the duck plate,” she repeated.

  Smiling delightedly, Livvie took off.

  Jack arched a brow. “Want to tell me what’s going on? You’re acting all…stealthy,” he said, looking mildly impressed.

  Having practically slung the plates down in front of Jay and Charlie, Livvie came running back into the kitchen and took up her icing bag. She was instantly engrossed. Mariette grabbed Jack’s hand and hurried forward. “Do what I do,” she said. “And be quiet.”

  Mariette dropped down into a low crouch and duck-walked to the best position behind the case. She’d purposely shifted things around in the case so that she’d have a better view.

  “What the hell?” Jack hissed, his brows climbing nearly to his hairline.

  Mariette shot him a warning glance and put her finger to her lips, the international sign for “shush.” Once she was in a good position, she motioned for Jack to get closer and whispered, “Watch this.”

  “This feels wrong,” he said. “I—”

  “Shut up,” she whispered fiercely. Like he’d never spied on anyone before. Honestly. “Trust me.”

  “I don’t care if you’re hungry or not,” Mariette heard Charlie say. “Mariette made a special treat for the two of us, so just eat it.”

  He made a face and pushed the plate away. “I’ll save it for later,” he said. “I’m sure she won’t mind.”

  Oh, yes, she would, Mariette thought.

  “That’s made with special chocolate,” Charlie told him. “It’s supposed to enhance your sexual performance.”

  Jay went comically still and beside her Jack sniggered.

  “I wasn’t aware there was a problem,” Jay said, darting a nervous look around the deserted dining room.

  Charlie popped a bite in her mouth and groaned. “But the best can still be made better,” she said, pulling a delicate shrug. “I was just more curious to see if it would work, but if it makes you uncomfortable or you’re not into it, then that’s fine.”

  “No, no,” Jay said, picking up the little egg. “If eating sexual chocolate will make you happy, then I’m happy to oblige.” He bit into it and winced. “What the—” He peered at the egg, then frowned at Charlie. “There’s paper in here.”

  “Oh,” Charlie said a little too innocently. “Mine didn’t have that. You ought to see what it says.” She leaned forward.

  Mariette was practically shaking with anticipation, her smile so wide it hurt. She grabbed Jack’s hand again and squeezed.

  Looking adorably uncertain, Jay withdrew the little piece of paper and opened it up. A puzzled frown moved across his brow while he tried to figure out what he was looking at. Then he sucked in a harsh breath and his gaze shot to Charlie. “Congratulations, Daddy,” he said, reading the little note at the bottom of the ultrasound picture. “Is this what— Are you— Are we—”

  Tears glistened in Charlie’s eyes and, smiling, she nodded.

  The chair Jay was sitting on fell to the floor as he vaulted up from the table and swept Charlie up. He lifted her completely off the ground and whirled her around. He was laughing delightedly, an expression of pure joy in his face.

  “Put me down,” Charlie gasped. “You’re going to make us sick.” She glanced toward the counter. “You can stop hiding now.”

  Mariette and Jack popped up from behind the counter and Jay’s eyes widened in shock. “Did you know?” he asked.

  “Only because she couldn’t stop herself from telling it,” Mariette told him, laughing, too. What a beautiful moment and she’d been a part of it.

  An odd expression on his face, Jack squeezed her hand and murmured a thank-you. “The egg had to be your idea. Brilliant.” He walked over to Jay and offered him one of those handshake hugs men did. “Congratulations,” he told him. “You’ll make a fine father.”

  Jay nodded and slung an arm around Charlie. “I’m sure she’ll have me whipped into shape before the baby is born.” He blinked and looked down at her. “When will the baby be born?”

  “October,” Charlie told him.

  “October,” he repeated wonderingly. “We’re having a baby in October.”

  Jay cast a fond look at his sister. “Go celebrate this news with your husband,” he said. “I’m not leaving again today.”

  A hopeful light gleamed in Charlie’s gaze. “You sure?”

  He nodded. “I’m sure.”

  Charlie shrugged and darted a look at Mariette. “Thank you,” she said, her eyes still wet.

  “Anytime,” Mariette told her.

  Charlie snagged her purse, the ultrasound photo and the last bite of chocolate off her plate, then hurried back to Jay’s side. She threaded her fingers through his as though her hand in his was the most natural thing in the world.

  And it was, for them, Mariette realized.

  “Does that chocolate really enhance sexual performance?” she heard Jay ask as they strolled out the door.

  Charlie laughed delightedly. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

  Jack waited until they were gone, then turned to look at her. His expression was still on lockdown, but she detected a hint of approval for her part and that little bit of admiration burrowed into her heart and bloomed. “That was a great thing you just did.”

  Mariette grinned, toed a loose piece of rubber on the mat behind the counter. “It felt good,” she said. “They’re so in love.”

  “I know.” He grimaced, shot her a conspiratorial smile. “It’s a little sickening, isn’t it?”

  Mariette felt her eyes round. “No,” she said, feigning outrage.

  He merely stared at her.

  She huffed a breath. “Okay, just a little.”

  Jack laughed, the sound low and husky. “I knew you were a girl after my own heart.”

  If she didn’t get control of herself, she imagined that was what she was going to be after—his heart. In the meantime, she’d just have to make do with the rest of him. A shudder racked her frame as desire spiked. In an instant she remembered the feel of his lips against her own, the way he tasted against her tongue, the way his skin felt beneath her mouth.

  Jack’s attention suddenly shifted to his cell phone. He checked the display, frowned and then looked up at her. “Who is Nathaniel, why will he be here at six and why am I supposed to take care of him for you?”

  Mariette swore. “I need to check on Livvie,” she said and made a beeline for the kitchen. It wouldn’t put him off, but it would delay him a minute, anyway.

  Damn Charlie. Pregnant or not, Mariette could throttle her. While the idea of having Jack convince Nathaniel to leave her alone satisfied some sort of primal cavewoman revenge gene, she really didn’t think it was necessary. Yes, he’d been an ass and yes, it had been humiliating. But she wasn’t heartbroken and she could fight her own battles.

  She’d been doing it her whole life, hadn’t she?

  Furthermore, she was grimly afraid she’d like it too much, having Jack Martin in her corner.

  And, though there were many pleasures she imagined she and Jack would enjoy, that one was somehow more significant, held more emotional appeal than was strictly good for her.

  She’d do well to remember that.

  “MARIETTE,” JACK CALLED, immediately falling in behind her. “What’s Charlie talking about?”

  “Oh, that’s lovely,” Mariette told Livvie, peering over the girl’s shoulder. She gave her a squeeze. “You’re doing a great job.”

  “Mariette,” he repeated, less patiently.

  She glanced up. “It’s nothing,” she said, blinking innocently. As if he’d fall for that. “It’s not a problem.”
r />   “Charlie seems to think he’s a problem,” he said. He frowned, sighed heavily and pulled his phone from his waist again. “I guess I’ll just have to call her and interrupt their romantic celebratory dinner and—”

  She snatched the phone out of his hand. He was so shocked it took a moment for him to react. “What the hell—”

  “I’ll give it back,” she said, looking at her hand as though she wasn’t sure it belonged to her. “Just don’t call her.”

  “Fine,” he said. She handed the phone back to him. “Who is Nathaniel?” Jack asked. He had a terrible suspicion that he wasn’t going to like this answer and the black cloud of rage settling on his brain was making it seize up. Ridiculous, he told himself. He shouldn’t get this spun out over an ex-boyfriend and yet… He genuinely felt like hitting something.

  Livvie made a face. “Nathanial used to be Mariette’s boyfriend, but she kicked him to the curb.”

  Mariette gasped. “Livvie! Who told you such a thing?”

  “Dillon,” she said, as if it should be obvious. “Dillon didn’t like Nathaniel, either. He said he had mean eyes.” She put another misshapen heart on another cookie. “I didn’t notice his mean eyes, but he was a brown. Not a pretty brown like chocolate. A yucky brown, like mud. Or poop.”

  Jack felt his lips twitch and his gaze tangled with Mariette’s shocked and embarrassed one. “He doesn’t sound like I would like him, either, Livvie.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Livvie said. “He’s not a nice man. He only pretends to be. He’s good at fooling people, but the colors don’t lie.”

  Mariette winced and rubbed a finger between her brows, as though staving off a headache. “Livvie, you’d better get your things together. Your mom will be here soon.”

  Livvie placed a final dot on a cookie with flourish and then smiled down at her handiwork. “There you go, Mariette. Livvie’s specials,” she announced proudly.

  Mariette smiled tiredly and hugged her. “Yes, they are.”

  Livvie buried her head into Mariette’s neck, a glowing smile on her face. “I love you, Mariette.”

  “I love you, too, sweetheart,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the girl’s temple.

  He smiled softly, touched at the scene. He’d been seeing a lot of mutually adoring looks lately. Between Mariette and Livvie, Charlie and Jay.

  Mariette pulled back and glanced down at the girl. “Livvie, why didn’t you tell me about Nathaniel’s color? You’ve never mentioned that before.”

  “I kept hoping it would change. Sometimes they do,” she said. “And Momma told me not to meddle,” she added, a frown creasing her otherwise smooth brow. “You aren’t mad at me, are you, Mariette?”

  “Of course not,” she said. “I could never be mad at you,” Mariette told her, giving her a squeeze. “You’re my special Livvie.”

  Livvie beamed up at her. “You’re my special Mariette.” The bell on the front door rang, signaling a customer. “I bet that’s Mom,” she said. “She’s always early.”

  “Livvie,” a feminine voice called.

  “Told ya,” Livvie announced. “See you tomorrow, Mariette. Bye, Jack!”

  Jack told her goodbye and then watched her leave. “Sounds like Livvie is a really good judge of character,” he remarked. “You should probably start vetting all your boyfriends through her.”

  She winced and started cleaning up. He liked the way she moved, determined and purposeful with an economy of movement that was graceful, almost regal. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

  “What’s this Nathaniel been doing?” He tried not to mangle the words, but, at her sharp look, wasn’t altogether sure that he’d succeeded. It was ridiculous how much this was eating him up. Of course, she’d had boyfriends before. She was twenty-seven. She was beautiful. It was completely natural and completely normal.

  And yet, the idea of her kissing anyone—touching anyone—the way she was kissing and touching him last night made him want to howl like a wounded animal and break things. He was jealous, Jack realized with a jolt of absolute horror.

  Jealous of someone he’d never met, never seen.

  All because he’d been someone Mariette had been involved with.

  Dread ballooned in his belly. Oh, this was bad, Jack thought. This was very, very bad.

  He’d never been jealous of anything or anyone before, had never had reason to be. If a girl he liked chose another guy—which, to be fair, hadn’t happened all that often—then he just moved on and found another one. Girls were girls. If one wasn’t interested there was always one who would be.

  Mariette wiped down the counter, sweeping cookie crumbs into her hands. Her mink-colored hair had been braided in a long rope that hung down on the side of her neck and curled provocatively around her breast. She wore another long-sleeve T-shirt and another pair of equally figure-flattering jeans. Small pearl studs gleamed from her ears and a gold locket dangled around her neck. He didn’t have to open it to know that it would contain a picture of her mother.

  A thought struck and he blinked. “Where’s your aunt?” he wanted to know. “The one your mother named you after?”

  She paused and darted him a strange look. “She’s in Florida,” she said. “She’s retired from the state. She worked thirty years for the Treasury Department.” She grinned, seemingly perplexed. “That was a bit random. I thought you were still stuck on Nathaniel.”

  His mood blackened at the reminder. “I guess the question isn’t whether I’m still stuck on Nathaniel,” he said, trying hard to sound calm and rational, neither of which he was at the moment. “It’s whether or not you’re still stuck on him.”

  She snorted as if the idea repulsed her. “No,” she said, shooting him a level look. “I’m not.”

  Jack nodded once. “Good.”

  Her lips twitched, probably at his utterly ridiculous behavior. He didn’t like being jealous. It made him feel strange, God help him, vulnerable even. It completely unsettled him.

  She unsettled him.

  Because that thought was too revealing and begged a lot of personal exploration involving feelings and emotions and everything else he’d managed to avoid the bulk of his entire adult life, Jack forced himself to change the subject altogether.

  To one he knew she wasn’t going to like.

  Bobby Ray.

  “We need to melt down all your remaining butter,” Jack announced.

  She started and looked up at him. Her pale gray eyes widened in shock. “What?”

  Jack recounted everything he’d learned that day and concluded with his trip to the dairy. “I let him know that Mackie’s boys were going to stay at the motel and that the clerk I talked to today was going to see to his things so that he wouldn’t lose them. He knows I know there’s a connection and he’s terrified. I told him that I’d help him, that I’d make sure the debt was considered paid and that I’d back them off him, but he just doesn’t trust me enough to let me do it. I’m sure he thinks that if he comes clean I’m going to haul him off to jail.”

  Mariette leaned against the counter, seemingly deep in thought. A line puckered her brow. “It could have been him,” she said. “He’s certainly the right height and build.”

  “He’s obviously gotten into something he’s not capable of getting out of on his own.”

  She looked up at him. “And you think that whatever he’s taking from Audwin is hidden in the butter?”

  Jack shrugged. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, Mariette. He has no access to anyone or anything else. He’s gotten snarled up with a mean-spirited bookie who’s roughed him up once. He’s shaking in his boots. So terrified that he won’t go home.” He passed a hand over his face. “And the kid looks terrible. Pale, drawn and sick. He’s dirty, he hasn’t bathed. I gave him som
e money for a room and told him to get his clothes cleaned and have a good meal. Maybe if he has a moment of safety he’ll come to his senses.”

  She glanced up sharply and her expression softened. “You did? You gave him money?”

  From the way she was looking at him one would think that he’d managed world peace or something equally impressive. Incredibly, he felt heat rise in his face. “I feel sorry for him,” he said. “You were right. He’s a good kid who needs to be shown the better side of humanity. All he’s seen is its worst.”

  Mariette tossed the washcloth in her hand aside, walked over to him, grabbed him by the shirt with both hands and yanked him down. Her smiling lips met his in a kiss that made the hair on his scalp tingle and the sensation moved with startling rapidity all the way down his body, clear to the soles of his feet.

  Well, all righty, then.

  Should he tell her about the old lady he’d helped across the street, too?

  He quickly picked her up and set her on the counter behind him, then moved in between her legs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and pushed her sweet tongue into his mouth, inflaming him. She smelled like vanilla and sugar and she was achingly soft where she should be soft and firm where she should be firm. Her hair was cool against the backs of his hands and he fisted them in it the way he’d thought about doing the first time he’d ever seen her.

  She left off his mouth and rained kisses down his cheek, along his jaw and down his neck. She sucked a little skin into her mouth and the response that hit his dick meant that she might as well have wrapped her lips around it instead.

  He pushed up against her, tugged her shirt from the waistband of her jeans and slipped his hands up the small of her back, tracing the fluted spine with his thumbs.

  She shivered and let go a low mewl of pleasure, then scooted even closer to the edge of the counter, putting the heart of her sex against the ridge of his arousal. She squirmed against him and he answered with a determined flex of his hips.

  Another little gasp of delight slipped between her lips and he ate it, feasting on her mouth. Seemingly desperate to touch him, as well, she burrowed her hands beneath his sweater and skimmed her fingers along his sides. Her touch was soft and cool, but the havoc it wreaked in his body was anything but.

 

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