In Love by Design (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod)

by Ellen, Tracy

  No matter my longing, I wasn’t dissuaded and ask doggedly, “Are you going to answer my question where you’ve slept?”

  Releasing my hand, Luke replied, “I have something to say first.”

  I sighed in resignation and regretfully lowered the finger that wanted to pet the velvet box. I couldn’t let myself touch it because it may never be mine. I had to dig deep to the cellular level for some resolve and managed to tap a reservoir that had somehow retained immunity from the I Love Luke virus.

  Prying my eyes off the ring, I looked up at Luke expectantly. “Okay, but I can’t accept your gift until you’ve answered my question.”

  “Not a problem, Sweetheart. You may have noticed that while I’ve shown you the gift, I’ve yet to do any offering.”

  Luke’s dimple flashed briefly at my indignant gasp, but his eyes clashed with mine and I almost heard the reverberating ring of steel against iron.

  Finally he spoke, although I didn’t believe my ears when he said, “Anabel, it’s obvious I adore you, but I’m having a hard time being questioned. Either you trust me or you don’t. You decide how it’s going to be.”

  Correct me if I’m mistaken, but it’s my understanding that once a man invoked the mighty “trust me or not” ultimatum, the woman was supposed to roll over and show her belly. A woman that didn’t blindly trust her man was a demanding, unloving bitch that deserved her fate to be single. Either she rolled or it’s the death knell for the relationship.

  I find this ultimatum much too generic and laughably idiotic. Since I never imagined I’d be one half of a traditional relationship, nor particularly wanted to be, I was going to use this Hallmark moment as another opportunity to begin how I meant to go on with my Dark Prince.

  Determinedly averting my eyes from the sparkles shooting out like a Star Wars laser show from the box clasped in his fist, I nodded briskly. “Obviously, I adore you too, Luke. Thanks for leaving it up to me to decide this trust issue. I think that’s wise on your part, since it seems pretty simple to me.”

  Ignoring his arched brow of surprise, I held up my right index finger. “One, of course I trust you. In fact, it’s disgusting how much I trust you, my darling war-god. Believe me, there’s been some serious name calling going on up here,” I laughed wryly and knocked twice on my noggin with my right fist, “for trusting in you, despite all the logical evidence saying I shouldn’t trust you farther than I can throw you.” I held up my middle finger. “Two. This is how I’ve decided it’s going to be. You don’t get to use the generic ‘If you don’t trust me, you don’t love me’ line as a catch all to wiggle out of answering any questions you don’t like. We can fight as dirty as we want with other people, but you and I are a team.” I gave him a wounded look, still amazed he’d try this with me. “Of course you don’t appreciate being questioned. I know I wouldn’t like it one bit.” I held up my sad and empty ring finger. “Three. The bottom line is that men and women are different creatures. We embrace a lot of those differences because they’re lovely—like me worshiping your biceps and your Byzantine brain. But overall, we think different and we make different choices based on those thought processes. For instance, you forgot to tell me you lived with Svettie. I trust you, so I accepted that lame excuse, even though I couldn’t live with a man for six months and forget to tell you. You chose not to call me for two weeks. I considered your reasons legit enough that in my trust and love, I was thrilled to death when you tore my teddy in two and bounced me to Heaven and back on your lap.”

  Luke was staring at me with that enthralled look he got when I explained something to him from my perspective, but he was also listening intently so I continued.

  I held up my pinky. “Four. I trust you enough to ask you where you’ve stayed these past two weeks. I did not try to find out from someone else. THAT would clearly demonstrate my mistrust in you. Do I believe you’d stay with Svettie after all that’s happened?” I waved my hand in a fifty-fifty motion. “There’s that man-woman different thinking thing going on, and you’ve made some strange choices lately, so who knows?” I ignored Luke’s soft laugh. “What I was hoping is that you hold my feelings in high enough regard that you wouldn’t.” I smiled ruefully and made a little deprecating shrug. “It’s true the idea of you co-habiting the same space with Svettie would seriously piss me off. I do not like her and I do not trust her, but I can’t believe you aren’t man enough to own up, if that’s what you chose to do.” I shook off this thought before I did get pissed and held up my thumb. “Five. So you see while I trust you, I need to know for certain where you stayed, so that Svettie can’t lord it over me in the future. That’s a girl thing and I don’t expect you to understand, but I do expect you to honor that I know what I’m talking about and answer my question.”

  Luke was staring at me still and didn’t speak or smile, but his finger hooked to motion me closer. I leaned over the console and he leaned down.

  Right before his lips met mine, my boyfriend whispered, “You drive me fucking crazy.”

  His mouth absorbed my smiling protests while he proceeded to return the favor.

  Lifting his head, he said in a low voice, “You could have stopped after the first finger of trust, but your points are valid--all twenty-five of them.”

  This time it’s his tongue that redirected my happy retort onto more pleasurable routes for the next little while.

  After a few minutes, Luke murmured against my lips, “Svetlana can’t lord anything over on you. No woman can.”

  “Give me the words, you damn man!”

  Luke leaned back and smiled. “I stayed at John’s.”

  Before wrapping my fists in his hair and yanking his head back down, I groaned, “Holy Crap, I need to be careful what I wish for!”

  Several minutes later, I reluctantly came up for air.

  “Please, please let’s get going. I can’t wait to get to your house and have the wood removed from my ass.”

  Releasing me and flipping off the dome light, Luke’s dark brow arched briefly. “Mmm, and here I was thinking just the opposite.”

  Over my spluttering laughter, Luke gave me a slow smile the Marquis De Sade would be proud of and put the truck in gear. Before taking off he held up the closed ring box. “Why don’t you hold onto this until we get to the farm?”

  I stretched out on my side. “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but that sounds like a fine plan.”

  Luke handed the velvet case to me and pointed us west for the fifteen minute ride to his farm. The night was black. On the two lane county road, the twin beams from the Ford’s headlights were the only thing cutting the darkness, except for the occasional distant yard light of a passing home. It was cold out, but there’s been no significant snowfall in the last few days and stars were twinkling in the night sky. The countryside around us was frozen in winter’s grip, but the pavement was dry under the tires.

  Luke broke the quiet. “Fill me in on everything going on in your life for the past couple of weeks, Princess. I’ll even nod my head every once in a while and pretend to listen.”

  “Gee, how very domesticated!” I retorted, laughing again, delighting in his dry humor.

  The dark isolation made the truck’s cab seem even cozier. I enjoyed the quiet, wanting to prolong the illusion that we’re an ordinary couple in love, racing home from a hot date and eager to get naked together. For the rest of this night, I wanted to pretend there were no huge problems hanging over us like sinister storm clouds waiting to destroy our happiness.

  You know, the little issues such as murderous enemies, pending financial collapse, being conned for your money, cheating brother-in-laws, and being shown, but not offered, an amazing jewel.

  So I went to my newest happy place—the one that shoots sparkles. I’ve never seen a ring like this before and wondered what design period it represented. Not Victorian, but Baroque or Rococo? The ring has a raised, bezel-cut center round diamond that was surrounded by smaller diamonds interspersed with
blue topaz and sapphires. These smaller, but still sizable gemstones form concentric circles three rows deep around the center stone—almost like a rounded crust of sparkling icing. Diamonds covered the entire three sides on the surface area of the band; contributing to the appearance of the ring looking like it’s frosted with glittering diamonds. The ring didn’t look modern and I’d love to know if it has a history. I was excited to see it up close under a proper light and hear all about it from Luke.

  He frowned over at me. “Aren’t you supposed to obey me and be chattering away like a good girlfriend?”

  I murmured back without thought, “Ah man, you’re interrupting my AWOL’ing!”

  “AWOL’ing?” Luke repeated with a confused chuckle. “Do you mean AWOL, as in the military acronym of away without official leave?”

  “Uh…sort of.” Then I sat up more and said brightly, “Let me tell you everything that’s gone on...”

  “Wait, back up. What do you mean I was interrupting your AWOL’ing?” He took his eyes off the road to give me a curious look. “Is this anything like your cha-cha word?”

  I couldn’t resist grinning every time he said cha-cha with such pleasure, but then I answered, “No. Well, not really. It’s my bastardized version of AWOL.” I paused to think how best to describe what I do without it sounding nuts, but end up shrugging. It’s strange behavior, no matter what spin I tried putting on it. “I call it that when I go off in my head. Usually, I’m thinking bizarre and inappropriate thoughts that bring on hysteria if I’m not careful, but sometimes I go AWOL’ing over porno thoughts or happy-place thoughts.” I frowned, picturing Svettie. “Or death thoughts.”

  Luke’s head swiveled from me to the road a couple of times, and I heard him say appraisingly under his breath, “Huh, porno thoughts.” Then he asked carefully, as if he’s picking his way through a minefield, “Do you voluntarily go AWOL’ing or is going off in your head something you can’t help?”

  I chuckled. “Reconsidering me and motherhood, are we?”

  “I tried not to be so obvious, but…” Luke left off and laughed.

  “Again, you wound me!” I smiled broadly. “Don’t worry; I’m pretty sure AWOL’ing boils down to me having an overactive imagination topped by a bizarre sense of humor. I don’t think it’s hereditary or requires meds, although,” I added with a frown,” funerals are especially trying for me.”

  He glanced over and smiled. “Anabel, I like your overactive imagination.”

  My voice was a seductive purr, “Then you are just going to love my imaginary friends.”

  Luke’s hard face was alight with amused interest. “Oh yeah?”

  “That’s right, baby. Anna’s got nothing on the voices in my head.”

  They all snickered, Luke right along with them. “So, did you do this AWOL’ing at Lily Johnson’s or Cheryl Crookston’s funerals?”

  “Nope, I was a good girl and endured like a stoic, but I did sit alone near an exit—just in case.” I sighed. “I miss the tall guy, though. He went back to work the next day, right when I was getting used to having him around the apartment. Crookie was quite a help in the store, too.”

  “Yeah, don’t you hate it when you lose free labor?” Luke commiserated with a small smile.

  Laughing, I replied, “I do, especially when they’re a card-carrying genius. He’s not too shabby a roommate, either. Easygoing, loves to cook dinner, and I never once had to drag out the step stool to reach into high places.”

  Taking a left onto Roberd’s Lake Boulevard, Luke slowed down his speed on the narrow road and looked over at me. “So that’s your criteria for a perfect roommate, huh? I never thought I’d say this, but should I be jealous of Crookie?”

  “My idea of the perfect roommate is no roommate.” I smiled then. “But if I were a man, I’d sure be jealous of ol’ Crook’s. He’s close to going where no man has gone before.”

  Luke’s deep voice was full of suppressed laughter. “I see, so how is your matchmaking going between Crooks and Tre J these days?”

  “Slow, with moments of sheer brilliance,” I answered, enthusiastically.

  “Christ, poor Crooks.” Luke shook his head. “The man doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “I know, won’t they make a splendid couple? I get to name their third child. What do you think of Desdemona?”

  Luke stated unhesitatingly, “I think they’d all hate you.”

  “Hmm, you may be right. Which reminds me, El Drake, tomorrow I’m meeting a friend for lunch.”

  After a pause, Luke replied coolly, “Are you, Princess?”

  “Yes, I am,” I answered firmly. “It’s my friend Pam. Well, to be more precise, she’s mine and Anna’s friend since grade school. You haven’t met her yet, but maybe you remember me mentioning her name? She’s a Delta flight attendant?” I reached out and touched his hand resting on the console. “I know I’m abducted, but she’s in some sort of trouble. I can’t cancel.”

  “Isn’t she that pig farmer’s wife?” With lowered brows, he asked suspiciously, “Just what kind of trouble could a pig farmer’s wife be in?”

  “Yeah, that’s her.” I smiled at his description of Pam’s husband because Carter would be livid at being referred to as a pig farmer, but shrugged at Luke’s second question. “I have no clue what’s wrong with Pam, but I’ve got a bad feeling.” I explained some of the family history, since Luke wasn’t from the area and didn’t know anyone’s background. “Her husband is Carter Ogelbachen II and the number one son in a big deal farming family. The Ogelbachen’s are Rice County royalty, at least in their own minds. He and Pam have been going out, on and off, since she was a junior in high school, but Carter’s much older. I think he graduated two years ahead of Mac, so that puts him around nine years older than all of us.”

  Luke’s snort of disgust said it all and I readily agreed, recalling my views at the time. “I know, pretty shocking, right? A twenty-five-year old man hitting on a girl barely sixteen has got some personal problems, no matter how you cut it. Heck, Pammie wasn’t even a mature sixteen. But try telling that to a girl that’s never had a boyfriend and has stars in her eyes.”

  “It sounds like you don’t much like Carter,” Luke commented, his voice questioning.

  “I didn’t in high school based solely on the creeper principle. Somehow, Carter got away with seeing Pam without serving any jail time,” I grumbled, still pissed at the unfairness. “Chief Jack told me to mind my own business when I hinted he arrest CO2. Whereas, I got my ass in a sling the one time, one time mind you, that Jack caught me skipping school!”

  Luke laughed and repeated, “CO2?” He said sardonically, “Let me guess; Pam’s parents didn’t complain because they liked this Carter for his personality and moral integrity?”

  I acknowledge with a wicked grin, “Carter hates it when I call him CO2.” Still feeling that tingly desire to rack my body, I put my arms overhead and arched my back, not able to stifle my yawn over my smirking reply, “Oh, I’m sure you’re right that it was Carter’s stellar reputation and had nothing to do with his zillions of acres or trillions of pigs. Pam’s parents are nice people, don’t get me wrong, but they’re in awe of the Ogelbachen money. Pam and Carter ended up getting married a couple of years ago, so I guess it’s all a moot point.” I stroked the velvet box in my hand and considered my friend’s husband. “To answer your question, it’s weird now that I think about it, but Carter’s been kind of a nonentity. My relationship has always been with Pam.” I shrugged. “Maybe it’s because I’m single, but we tend to do girl things on our own. I’d never marry the guy, but then again,” I smiled unabashedly, “I feel that way about all my friend’s husbands. If Pam’s happy being married to him, then I’m happy for her.”

  On my mental list of problems, after Luke and Mac, Pam was next. She’s definitely unhappy about something. As another of Anna’s bridal attendants in the upcoming Las Vegas wedding, Pam was at Mac’s house tonight helping plan the shower. I noticed immediate
ly upon her arrival that she looked distracted and tired. This was normal for some of our friends that were married with children, but not for the childless, fun-loving Pam.

  I haven’t seen her in a few weeks, so it was shocking to have her hug me and feel nothing but skin and bones when I hugged her back. Pam’s already slim as a boy, but tonight she looked fragile and wan. Pammie’s usually bubbling over with clever, wisecracking effervescence, and next to Anna, is one of my favorite friends. Her withdrawn quietness and the dark circles under her eyes alarmed me. She had to leave earlier than everyone else and unobtrusively motioned me into the kitchen before leaving. She whispered that she desperately needed some girl-talk. Before my life had been rearranged by Mr. Tricky, we’d agreed to meet at the halfway point of Faribault for lunch at noon on Friday.

  “Sounds like you can’t cancel on Pam, so we need to come to terms.” Even in the darkened truck, I felt Luke’s appraising glance on my stretching body and he teased, “I’ll agree to free you, if you promise to do whatever I say for the rest of the afternoon when you return.”

  At least, I believe he was teasing.

  Thinking about my additional new detective duties, I swore silently. I decided to wait before mentioning my Friday evening plans with Jaz and Tre. Otherwise, I’ll end up having to promise El Drake complete servitude right here and now. It could be fun, but then I pictured the inside of his house a messy bachelor pad and me being ordered into a French maid uniform while wearing no panties. That still could be fun, but then the next part of the fantasy popped in my head. There’s no way I’m cleaning his floors on my hands and knees while he lounged like a lazy panther, ordered me around, and eyeballed my fanny.

  Right now, I didn’t have time to bargain because Luke was turning up the driveway to the farm, so I quickly agreed to his terms. I needed all my female powers to concentrate on battling the Curse of the Poltergeists.

  Hugging my unoffered present to my chest with my right hand and keeping my left hand resting on Rita inside my open purse, I thought Friday was shaping up to be a most satisfactory day.