Merried

by Jamie Farrell

  Pepper Blue. Merry and Mom had spent two hours with her picking a wedding dress for Mom that would hopefully not be sacrificed on the pyre of broken hearts and shattered dreams in another two years.

  Merry’s bridesmaid dress would end up donated to a resale shop, as they usually did, regardless of the fate of this marriage.

  “Merry,” Pepper said, “how’s Patrick?”

  Currently making Merry very happy that he was Mom’s fiancé instead of Merry’s, given the man-flu he’d contracted as Mom was paying for their dresses.

  Merry didn’t do sickbed coverage. Especially when there were bodily fluids involved. “Fairly miserable, but Mom thinks he’ll be better tomorrow.”

  “We hope so,” Zoe said quickly. Her fair cheeks had taken on a pink tinge.

  More people were looking at them curiously. Thanks to Daddy, she was highly familiar with being the subject of scrutiny based solely on who she was. Or rather, to whom she was related.

  But today, she suspected, the scrutiny was all of her own making.

  She turned her benign smile to Pepper. “Mom says this dress is her favorite of all her wedding dresses.”

  Who cares about dresses. Ask her about her curse, Phoebe Moon said.

  There’s no such thing as curses, Phoebe Moon, Phoebe’s newly introduced sidekick, Zack Diggory, replied.

  “She’ll be a lovely bride,” Pepper said.

  “Tell Patrick to get better quickly,” Zoe said. “You have cake to taste tomorrow.”

  They’d had to cancel their tasting today after Patrick fell ill. “We can’t wait.”

  The bartender deposited Merry’s vodka on the bar, and she turned back to face it. “Anyway, don’t let me disturb your evening.”

  “You’re not disturbing us,” Zoe said.

  Right. Probably a standard Bliss line. Merry reached into her pocket. Phone, ID, cash still there. She had no idea what the shot cost, but a twenty would cover it, and then she could get out of here.

  “We were just talking about…um…” Zoe started.

  “Our book club,” Pepper said.

  “Yes! Our happy endings book club.” Zoe tugged a ruby stud in her ear. “We don’t read anything depressing. Do you like to read?”

  “I met Max in a bookstore.” Why stop at half-awkward? “But you probably already knew that.”

  Zoe’s eyes went round, but Pepper inched her chin up. “Actually, most of us know very little about you.”

  “Just that you disappeared without a word to Max,” Zoe said softly.

  “Which was when half the town found out he was dating anyone at all.”

  “No one likes to see their friends get hurt.” There was both a hint of apology and a prompt for an explanation lingering in Zoe’s voice.

  As though they meant it. That they didn’t know anything about her.

  Not who she was. Not what she did. Not who her father was.

  All they knew was how her relationship with Max had ended.

  Was that even possible?

  “It’s nice that Max has you watching out for him,” she said.

  “It’s what friends do,” Pepper replied.

  And they were Max’s friends, not Merry’s. She got it.

  They’d be nice to her because it was their job. They’d make sure Mom got the wedding of her dreams. But they wouldn’t stand by if they thought she was planning to hurt Max again.

  She grabbed her vodka and tossed it back.

  The spirit burned her throat, but it gave her a legit reason for the sting in her eyes.

  She slid the twenty onto the bar. “For whatever it’s worth, I didn’t want it to end the way it did either.”

  And that was all she could say on the subject without going too far down memory lane. She spun around and collided with a solid mass of heat and strength and leather.

  Sure hands gripped her upper arms.

  Her wounded heart swelled and leapt into her throat. Without thinking, she arced her arms up and around to break his hold. Before she could finish him off, he jumped back.

  “Easy.” Max held his hands up, a no-harm gesture. “Just came in for a drink.”

  Embarrassment and loneliness burned behind her nose. “Last I checked, you couldn’t get a drink out of my arms.”

  His eyes flickered. They were ocean blue tonight, deep and fathomless, telegraphing a seductive combination of irritation, worry, and that dang intrigue again. He didn’t physically block her way, but his gaze wouldn’t let her go. “Stay. Have a hot chocolate. We’re all friendly around here.”

  Friendly in a suspicious, we-don’t-want-you-here kind of way. “Thank you, but no.”

  He slid a look behind her toward Pepper and Zoe, and his eyes tightened.

  “We were talking about our happy endings book club,” Pepper said quickly.

  “Yeah, somebody picked these kid books for next month,” Zoe added. “Phoebe Stars or something.”

  “Phoebe Moon?” Max said.

  Oxygen heaved out of Merry’s lungs, and her heart spun as though it had been dropped in a centrifuge.

  “Fun books,” Max said, one eye still on Merry.

  Because he’d figured out her secret?

  Or because he’d been buying a Phoebe Moon book for his niece when they met?

  “My favorite was Phoebe Moon and the Ninja Hideaway,” Max said.

  Hers too. Or it had been until last week’s release of Phoebe Moon and the Missing Sunshine.

  Probably she shouldn’t have given Phoebe Moon a new best friend, the sixteen-year-old, dark-haired, 1970 Dodge Charger-driving Zack Diggory.

  There was a possibility Merry had put too much of herself—and Max—in this latest Phoebe Moon book.

  “You should come to book club with us, Max,” Zoe said. “Pepper will be there.”

  Merry’s lips wobbled.

  But it didn’t matter.

  She was going to France. She didn’t need Max’s friends’ approval. And he had Pepper now. They were going to break each other’s curses and live happily ever after.

  “Can I walk you to your car?” Max said to Merry.

  “Didn’t drive.”

  “Max, actually, we had a question about Saturday,” Zoe said.

  He ignored her. “How about a lift?”

  Merry wavered.

  He’d been good to her last year. Trusting. Affectionate. Generous.

  But every time she looked at him, all she saw was a jeweler who hadn’t known he was sleeping with a jewel thief’s daughter. “If I let you drive me back, will you tell them this is strictly platonic and they don’t have to worry?”

  His wolfish smile set off fireworks in her feminine parts. “Small town. They’re gonna think what they’re gonna think.”

  “Then I’ll walk.”

  “Hey, Max,” another voice called.

  Max waved them off. “C’mon, Merry. It’s cold outside. All I’m offering is a ride.”

  A ride in Trixie. Alone with Max. In the dark. “You’ll take me directly to the B&B.”

  “Heavy traffic this time of night.”

  “In this small town?”

  “Cows claim the roads after eight.”

  Her lips parted, then clamped shut. If there were cows around Bliss, she hadn’t seen them.

  “Or maybe ghosts of jilted brides past,” he said. “Never know in Bliss.”

  Max was obviously determined to drive her home. And she couldn’t deny a primal pleasure in letting him when his friends obviously wanted to save him from himself.

  She turned toward the door. Max followed. She could tell by the current sparking through the air and casting a figurative shadow over her back.

  Max Gregory was dangerous.

  But only to Merry’s heart.

  Chapter 8

  Perhaps devilish Uncle Sandy was right. Perhaps the world was a better place with silence.

  —Phoebe Moon and the Stolen Sound

  * * *

  The inky sky wrapped itself lik
e an icy cocoon around Max when he followed Merry out the front door of Suckers.

  She’d marched out of the bar like a woman on a mission, but her steps slowed, and he swore her ears twitched before she stepped off the sidewalk and into the parking lot.

  He hadn’t noticed anything unusual about her sense of awareness last year, but then, he hadn’t been looking for it. Now, he wondered if she was always on high alert and if she’d noticed something he hadn’t.

  The Merry he’d known hadn’t been on edge. No more than anyone else he knew, anyway. The day they’d met, she’d started out so cautious, he’d wondered if she’d just gotten out of a bad relationship. The last night she’d stayed with him, she’d gone pale and shaky when Scout wouldn’t stop barking at something in the backyard.

  But every moment between, she’d been more. Perceptive and intelligent with a dry wit one minute, carefree and happy and young the next.

  This Merry wasn’t that girl. She was still intriguing. Captivating. Fascinating. But she wasn’t innocent, and her wit had an edge to it.

  He wanted to know how much of her had been real.

  He casually scanned the SUVs, sedans, and sports cars in the parking lot, noting she was doing the same, before clearing his throat and tilting his head toward the corner of the building.

  Merry fell into step beside him, but she didn’t look at him.

  She was still scanning their surroundings with sharp eyes.

  “You still drive that old Mustang?” she asked.

  “Absolutely. Trixie and I are inseparable.”

  Trixie, the red 1965 Mustang convertible he’d restored during his summers home in college, sat where he’d left her in a nice, spacious spot at the end of the row. He unlocked the passenger door and held it open for Merry.

  She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and bit down, and her fingers brushed the top of the door.

  “Missed you at dinner this afternoon.” His voice came out huskier than he’d intended.

  She snatched her hand off the car. “I told you I wouldn’t be there.”

  “Wedding planning going well?”

  “As well as it ever does.”

  Remarkable that he hadn’t noticed last year how little Merry talked about herself and her family. Now, her every evasive answer was one more piece of the Merry puzzle.

  He had five days to figure her out. To figure out why he wanted to. And the blood surging to his groin right now didn’t count as a valid reason. He gestured into the car. “After you.”

  She scanned their surroundings again, so Max did the same. Small shrubs at the edge of the building rustled in the wind, their Christmas lights swaying. Three men crossed the parking lot, one with a lit cigarette glowing between his fingers.

  “Expecting someone?” Max asked.

  She didn’t answer but instead slid into Trixie’s stiff leather seat.

  Max closed her in, then crossed around the car. A bell jingled in the distance. Subtle scents of beer and fried food lingered in the chilly air. Nothing seemed out of place here to him.

  He stayed silent while he buckled in and cranked the engine. Trixie roared to life, a sound that always put a thrill in his veins. He draped his arm behind Merry’s seat while he glanced out the rear window to back out of the parking space.

  In his experience, women didn’t like silence.

  Especially when they were sitting in a car made for speed and sex.

  Sure enough, he hadn’t even put Trixie in first gear before Merry spoke. “You didn’t tell your friends about my father.”

  “Should I have?”

  “I would’ve if I were you.”

  “You could’ve told them. Just now.”

  “They’re not my friends.”

  Was he imagining the lonely longing in her voice, or was she playing him? “They could be.”

  “Max.” She made a noise in her throat that sent more blood flowing to Max Jr. “I’m here for a wedding. That’s it. When it’s over, I’m gone. Gone. Forever.”

  His gut tightened. “Not many weddings take place in the alley behind my family’s jewelry shop.”

  “I have a paranoia problem, okay? I was just making sure your security was solid last night. Trouble follows me. You were a good friend last year, and I don’t want our past to bring you trouble too.”

  “Was your father the reason you disappeared?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He stopped the car at the edge of the parking lot, looked both ways for traffic, then glanced at Merry.

  Her lips were pressed together in a grim line.

  He followed her lead and clamped his own jaw shut. For Trixie’s sake, he needed to quit provoking the ninja in the passenger seat.

  At least until they were safely parked at the B&B.

  They’d gone two blocks before Merry spoke again. “How’s Scout?”

  “Sad that Kimmie quit making fruitcake cupcakes.”

  Scout had loved Merry to the point of getting herself put in her crate downstairs the nights Merry stayed over, instead of being allowed to sleep on the floor next to Max’s bed. If he hadn’t kicked Scout out, he’d been more likely to wake up on the floor while his dog snuggled his girl.

  And Max had liked that girl.

  She was fun. And different. Cool about being casual, and Max hadn’t even noticed when they’d passed his usual relationship expiration date.

  But a week before Thanksgiving, she’d disappeared.

  And Max had started believing in curses.

  He steered Trixie onto the side street where Merry’s B&B sat prominently in the center of the block. “You remember how Scout wouldn’t stop barking?”

  He caught a jerky nod out of his peripheral vision.

  “Neighbors behind me got flamingoed,” Max said.

  “Flamingoed?”

  “Sixty-eight plastic flamingoes in their yard. Culprits never caught.”

  “Such awful crime in Bliss.”

  “Half had wedding veils,” Max said. “Actually, two more than half. The paper called it Bliss’s first avian lesbian union.”

  She didn’t respond. Max coasted Trixie to a stop in front of the old Victorian house.

  Merry unbuckled her seatbelt. “Thank you for the ride.”

  “Sure.”

  He killed the engine and unbuckled himself too. He’d agreed to drive her straight home, but he hadn’t agreed to leave immediately thereafter.

  “You don’t have to walk me to the door.”

  “Afraid I’ll talk to your mother again?”

  “More afraid she’ll talk to you again.”

  He grinned. “Mothers are impossible when they want grandchildren. I could let you meet mine,” he offered. Never mind that his parents were off on a road trip for the week, hunting the best Christmas light displays in the Midwest. “Tell her all about your father. Drop a subtle suggestion or two about our intentions. I know it’s a big favor to ask to get her off my back, but—oomph.”

  She had sharp elbows.

  “Goodnight, Max.”

  Trixie’s door opened then slammed shut behind her. He joined Merry on the short walk to the B&B’s front door. He kept his hands in his pockets and even tried to keep his breath on his side of the sidewalk.

  She walked faster.

  He did too.

  “Heard we might get snow this week,” he said.

  She angled a half squint at him, an are we seriously talking about the weather? kind of squint. “Tends to happen in winter.”

  “Technically, it’s still fall.”

  “Because Santa didn’t see his shadow?”

  That was the Merry he remembered. Dry, funny, and imaginative.

  And the closer he could get to the Merry he remembered, the more likely he could get some truth out of her. “You’re getting confused with—”

  He was cut off by a sudden flurry of white feathers between them.

  Something thwacked him in the ear. Merry shrieked and threw her hands in front of he
r face. The creature hoot-squawked.

  Max grunted and blocked it with his arms. “What the—”

  Feathers went up his nose. He swung blindly at the bird and took another wing to the face. Merry’s body was a blur of motion, dodging and hopping and waving in a sea of feathers.

  A hard edge knocked him in the ribs. “Oomph.” He stumbled back. “The bird, Merry. Go ninja on the effing owl.”

  “I can’t hit an owl!” she shrieked.

  Max lunged for it. “It’s hitting you!”

  “Then you take care of it.”

  “I’m trying to.” Bits of information from the paper’s article on last night’s dive-bombing owl tickled his brain. Beak. Talons. Animal control if sighted. Do not engage. Take cover.

  A flapping noise sounded close to Max’s ear. Merry lunged toward him—or toward the bird—but the owl lifted itself into the sky, and Merry’s shoulder connected with Max’s solar plexus.

  He grunted again and lost his footing. The world tilted, and suddenly he was falling, fast, hard, until his hip crashed into the frozen yard.

  A body landed on top of him, knocking the last of the wind from his lungs.

  Above him, the owl’s wings gracefully extended. It hovered a moment longer, feathers falling like snow, then it swooped to the side and disappeared into the night.

  Merry jerked on top of him, and her head connected with his chin.

  Max bit back a curse. The worst hits he’d taken on the football field in high school hadn’t hurt like this. But then, he’d had pads on.

  And this ninja woman was ten times as dangerous as a high school linebacker.

  She put her hands to his chest and pushed herself up, straddling his hips, and despite the pain radiating through his body, Max Jr. stirred to life.

  He closed his eyes and forced himself to think of something disgusting. Like kissing his sister-in-law. Or getting puked on by his nephews or nieces. His grandmother naked.

  Just when it was starting to work, gentle fingers tugged at his hair.

  Sparks exploded all over his scalp, and his stiff shaft pulsed against the warm body straddling him.

  Merry froze.

  Her fingers were still in his hair. “Sorry,” she whispered.