by Cindy Stark
Milo slipped Ariana an uneasy glance. "We'd love to, but—"
She couldn't be seen in public.
"If you don't show, everyone will be talking about you. I can only imagine what they'll say." Scott wiggled his brows, promising a juicy story.
Milo leaned away from the couch, standing straight. "Not if you don't tell them anything." His previous tension returned two-fold.
His friend didn't catch on to his change in temperament. "I can try, but there's no telling what might come out of my mouth once I have a few beers in me."
Ariana closed her eyes. This was why she shouldn't have let herself be seen by anyone. It had been a critical mistake.
"We'll be there."
She met Milo's gaze with surprise.
"Great." Scott beamed. "I knew I could convince you. If you could round up some firewood, that would be great. Party starts at seven."
Each second that passed until Scott said goodbye tied another knot in Ariana's nerves. By the time Milo closed the door behind him, she was a tangled mess. She watched him with a wary gaze as he turned toward her.
He stared at her, not a trace left of the friendliness he'd shared with Scott.
"Married?" she whispered, afraid to say more.
He released a long, slow breath as though he needed the time to gain control over his words. "It was the only thing I could think of, being blindsided like I was. Trust me. I'll pay more than you ever will for making that up."
"I'm sorry, Milo. I only went to the river like we'd done the day before. I thought it was safe."
He raised his brows. "Why do I still feel like this is all a game to you? Do you not understand how vitally important it is to keep your identity hidden?"
She breathed past the large dose of regret that threatened to choke her and met his hard gaze. "I understand better than anyone how lethal my father's men are. That's why I'm testifying." She didn't need that lecture. "I'm sorry I didn't mention meeting Scott and Luke. That was the day I'd run home, and you'd thought someone was after me. Then everything went to hell between us and…" She dropped her gaze to her hands, holding her palms up. She intertwined her fingers and clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. Never in a millions years had she dreamed her life would become so difficult. She looked up. "I apologize. I know you're only trying to do your job, and I'm complicating things. It's not my intention."
He released a drawn out breath, shaking his head. "Damn. It's hard to stay mad at you."
"Should I call Quinn?"
He scrunched his brows together. "What for?"
"To come get me? To tell him I'm leaving? If he could get me some money, I think I could lose myself in the outskirts of Salt Lake for a couple of weeks without drawing attention."
Milo stepped closer to her, his bare chest and intense eyes spiking her pulse. "Number one, since you've officially left the program, there are no funds Quinn can access on your behalf. That is no longer a viable option. Number two, there's no way in hell I'm letting you walk out of here alone. Did that once, and it ended badly."
Ariana widened her eyes. She'd really backed herself into a dark corner this time. "Then what are we going to do? My cover has been blown." She'd allowed her self-pity to rule her emotions and decisions far too often lately, and now she'd destroyed her best opportunity to stay alive. "I can't stay here."
"Your cover might be compromised, but it hasn't been blown."
He couldn't be right. "What about Scott? You know he's going to tell Luke at the very least. Then Luke will tell someone. It's only a matter of time before everyone knows." Cold fingers of despair wrapped around her.
"Think about it, Ariana. What exactly does Scott know?" He took her hand and held it. She soaked up the comfort. "I know you're worried, and you damn well should be. Ultimately, being seen could be a costly mistake, but right now, the town is talking about their favorite deputy sheriff and the shooting at the hospital. As soon as Scott starts talking, the gossip will be about me bringing home some stranger I married in Vegas. They're talking about long, dark-haired Anna, not blond-haired Ariana Trasatti. Finding a person of notoriety in their midst is the last thing on their minds. They'll be wondering if you've cast some evil spell and now control me. They probably think you're after my money, not that you're running from the mob. Why do you think I came up with that outlandish story?"
"I didn't consider that. Smart thinking." She certainly wasn't going to suggest he'd voiced a fantasy of spending their lives getting to know each other, even if she'd toyed with those thoughts. She knew two people couldn't know enough about each other after this length of time to commit to anything, but waking up in the quiet solitude of Aspen every morning with a man like Milo greatly appealed to her at the moment. "What do we do about the party? They're expecting us."
"We go."
She pulled her hand from his and took a step back, shaking her head. "I can't go. That's more exposure."
"We don't have much choice at this point. Not showing will cause more speculation. The best thing we can do right now is act natural. If you hide, they'll start searching the web for info on you. If you go, they'll take one look at you and understand why I was smitten."
Smitten? Did he mean that or was he acting the part? "That makes sense."
"It's all we have to work with right now. I'm going to shower. Do what you need to get ready." He walked past her and down the hall. "Our next move will be to introduce you to your new mother-in-law." He stopped at the bathroom door. "She'll kill me if she hears this from someone else first."
Ariana let her head fall backward as she released a quiet groan.
CHAPTER NINE
Milo parked in front of a small, maroon-brick house and killed the engine on his Dodge. Silence infused the vehicle. Ariana couldn't bring herself to open the door and get out, and Milo didn't seem to be in any hurry, either.
"She's a nice lady. I think you'll like her."
Ariana expelled a restrained breath. "I'm sure I will." Why did this feel so much like the real thing? She'd taken extra care with her hair and makeup that morning, needing to impress the woman who'd raised the remarkable man sitting next to her. When Milo still didn't make an attempt to exit the vehicle, she shifted her gaze toward him.
A smile played with the corners of his mouth, but he seemed more nervous than happy. "I have something for you." He dug in his pocket. "Give me your hand."
She held out her fingers.
"Other hand."
A rush of energy flooded her chest, crowding her lungs, making it harder to breathe. Was he doing what she thought he was doing? She raised a brow, a frisson of shivers radiating through her body as she switched hands.
He grasped her fingertips, singling out her ring finger. He slid on a gorgeous diamond ring. He didn't release her, but studied the ring instead, cradling her in his tanned, rough hand. The silver setting held a large, round diamond surrounded by tiny, crusted diamonds and intricate detailing. "My grandmother left this for me to give to the woman who steals my heart."
Ariana couldn't speak.
He released her hand, and she ached to reach out to him.
"Of course, it's just for show."
"Of course," she forced through tightened vocal cords.
"But my mother will know something's up if you're not wearing it."
"Of course," she repeated, unable to locate any other words.
He exhaled. "Let's do this."
She admired his strong, sure gait as he walked around the front of the truck to open her door. As they started down the short cement walk to the front porch, he folded a strong hand around hers and didn't let go.
Damned if this didn't feel like the real thing. Damned if she didn't want it to be.
He released her hand long enough to open the door and let her enter, but then quickly claimed her again. It was almost as if he needed her support as much as she needed his. How could she not admire a man so dedicated to protecting her that he'd lie to his mother? And look how
she'd treated him.
No longer.
She'd behave herself if it killed her. She wouldn't flirt or tease him. She certainly wouldn't leave the house without him again.
Ariana glanced around the homey living room, loving the overstuffed tan couch complete with varying shades of rusty red pillows. Photos featuring Milo at every stage of life crowded a sofa table sitting against the wall.
"Mom?" Milo called out.
A scuffling of pans echoed from the kitchen, followed by the appearance of a slender, fiftyish woman with long blond hair cut in a fashionable style. "Milo." Her voice radiated the same affection that shone on her face. Her gaze quickly jumped from her son, to Ariana, to their connected hands. "Looks like you brought company."
"I did." He tugged her forward until they were firmly ensconced in his mother's personal space. "Mom, I'd like you to meet Anna. Anna, this is my mother, Nancy Sykes."
"Mrs. Sykes." Ariana extended her hand, and Milo's mom shook it with a surprisingly firm grip.
"It's nice to meet you, Anna. Please, call me Nancy."
The warm energy emanating off the older woman flooded Ariana's nerves, relaxing her and coaxing a smile. "Thank you. It's very nice to meet you, too."
"Mom, I have something to tell you." He squeezed Ariana's hand so hard, she wondered if she'd loose circulation. "You might want to sit down."
The woman glanced at Ariana, a touch of wariness now in her eyes, before turning her gaze to her son. "I prefer to stand," she said with a fake smile.
"I met Anna in Vegas, and—" he blew out a deep breath, "—we got married."
The color drained from his mother's face. She didn't say a word, only stared intently at her son as though they somehow had the capability to communicate through silence.
Tension rolled off Milo, clinging to Ariana, making her stomach churn. She couldn't let him put his mother through this kind of drama. "This is my fault."
Milo tightened the vice grip around her hand. "No—"
"Don't make excuses for my son." Gone was the friendly, small-town warmth.
Ariana swallowed her next words, sensing it was better to remain silent for the moment.
Nancy seemed appeased with Ariana's reaction and turned her attention to Milo. "I want to know why you ever thought it would be okay to exclude me from your wedding. My God. I saw your grandmother's ring on her hand and thought you'd gotten engaged, which was bad enough since you've never brought her around before. But you went and married this pretty young thing? You are my only child, my only chance to see my child wed. How could you take that from me?"
Several long seconds of silence roared through the small living room.
Agony etched stress lines across Milo's features. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't consider that."
"Of course you didn't." She threw the words at him. "You're just as dense as your father was."
Although Milo had great intentions, this was wrong. She would not allow her mistakes to drive a wedge between these people who obviously cared a great deal about each other. "I can't do this."
Milo and his mother both turned to her with incredulous looks on their faces.
"I don't care how messed up my life is. I'm not going to let it ruin yours, too." She switched her glance from Milo to Nancy. "We're not really married."
"Shit." Milo folded his arms and glared at her.
His mother blinked a few times before dropping to the couch. She took a deep breath. "Someone better start explaining."
"Damn it, Ariana. How the hell are we going to make this work if you can't follow orders?"
"Ariana?" His mom looked at Milo. "Orders?" She turned to Ariana.
"I don't care, Milo. I'm not going to make it work if it's going to hurt people like this. My father has already done enough damage to far too many lives." Ariana took a seat at the opposite end of the couch.
The older woman shifted a wary gaze toward her.
"I apologize for the upset, Mrs. Sykes. Milo has been guarding me until I testify at my father's trial. I was supposed to stay out of sight, but a couple of Milo's friends saw me. Milo came up with this story as a cover. But I can see now, it's never going to work."
"It would work just fine if you'd do what I ask," Milo threw back at her.
His mother turned a questioning brow to her son. "I thought you'd left the Marshals Service. Is there something else you need to tell me? And since when is it okay to lie to your mother?"
"Her life is in danger, Mom. I have to do whatever it takes." He sat in a chair opposite them. "Quinn was out of options where Ariana is concerned and asked me to help out."
His mom nodded as though she was finally connecting the pieces. "Ariana…would that be Ariana Trasatti?"
Milo cursed. "See Ariana? Now two people in Aspen know your identity. Soon it will be four, then eight—"
"Excuse me, young man. I take offense to that. I am quite capable of keeping a secret."
"Yeah? What about Sue? You tell her everything. Do you really think she's going to keep quiet?"
So much for helping the two of them reconcile.
"You know for a fact I don't tell her everything. I didn't say anything about—" She stopped, flicking a glance at Ariana. "I can keep things to myself. Don't you dare insinuate that I can't."
Milo rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his upturned palms. A half-growl, half-groan rumbled from deep in his chest. He sat up, giving Ariana a pointed look. "Short of burying you in an underground cave, Aspen is still our safest bet. We're going to continue with this charade, and you will not tell another soul. Do you understand? I don't care how bad you feel for them. These are my relationships to worry about, not yours."
The whip of his words stung, reminding her she was the outsider here, no matter how much she'd warmed to the small town.
He eyed his mother with the same severe expression. "You are sworn to secrecy as well. If you talk, she could die. Do you understand?"
Nancy tossed a challenging glare at him.
"If neither of you say anything, we can still pull this off. It's less than three weeks. Twenty days. Do we have an agreement?"
His mother's annoyed glare remained firmly in place. He returned the expression before shifting to Ariana. "Well?"
"I promise."
The look in his eyes demanded compliance. "I will hold you to it."
"Enough of your browbeating, Milo. We both agreed." His mother stood. "I hope you're planning to stay for dinner."
"Nah, we gotta go."
"I haven't seen you in over two weeks, and you're refusing dinner?"
Milo rolled his eyes. "Ariana should stay out of sight as much as possible."
"I think being inside my house is just as much out of sight as your house is. Come on, daughter." She held a hand out to Ariana. "We can make some sweet tea while Milo works off his frustrations that we women seem to cause him." She turned to her son. "I can barely open that damn gate."
His gaze flickered between the two of them. "Fine." The twinkle in his eye reappeared, and it warmed her like sunshine after a week's worth of rain. "But no conspiring while I'm gone."
Ariana grasped Nancy's hand and stood, grateful the woman's overall pleasant attitude had returned.
Milo's mother fibbed about making tea. She already had a pitcher chilling in the fridge. She piled two glasses with ice and poured the refreshing liquid over the cubes, making them crackle and pop. "It's such a nice day. Let's sit on the back porch."
Nancy's kitchen door led to a beautiful garden haven. The edges of the raised redwood patio segued into an old-fashioned garden. Pink and rose hollyhocks danced on the other side of the railing, poking their heads in to say hello. A gorgeous white rose crept up a trellis nailed to the side of the house.
Off to the side, two teakwood rockers and a small bistro table awaited them. Nancy relaxed into one, and Ariana followed suit.
Before either of them could start the conversation, Milo came around the side of the house,
carrying a large red toolbox. The muscles in his bicep strained from the weight of the container. He stopped at the stairs to the patio and set down the tools. "I forgot to mention, I checked on Karen. She's out of the hospital and doing much better."
"I know," his mom responded with a playful, yet sassy reply. "Who do you think drives her to therapy?"
"You, of course." He flicked a glance back and forth between the two of them, narrowing his eyes. "My gut still tells me it's a mistake to leave you alone."
"There's not much you can do about it now, is there?" His mom winked at Ariana, and the camaraderie between them lit a dark place inside her.
"I hate to say it, but no, it doesn't appear there is." He grasped the bottom of his shirt and tugged it over his head, tossing the piece of clothing to his mom. His muscled chest gleamed under the midday sun, and Ariana traced each curve of his glorious skin with her eyes.
"For heaven's sake, put your shirt back on, Milo." His mother threw it back to him. "This woman is not your love interest as you pointed out, and you don't need to be strutting around half-naked, making her uncomfortable."
Milo hung his shirt over the railing instead. "This is one of my good shirts. I'm not about to get it dirty. You asked me to fix your gate, and I am. You don't like seeing me half-naked? Don't look." He picked up the toolbox again, his muscles flexing to accommodate the weight, and he headed toward a little gate that separated the backyard from a chicken pen. The chickens clucked and scurried around as he approached.
"I'm sorry, dear. He really was brought up with better manners than that."
"It's fine." It was more than fine. She tore her gaze from Milo to find his mom watching her with a discerning look. "I had a brother who always ran around with no shirt, so I'm used to shirtless men." Goodness. That sounded bad. She took a drink of sweet tea, hoping to cool her heated blood before Nancy figured out she had daily fantasies about her son.
"Had?"
She fought to get her brain on track. "Well, technically I still have my brother, but I doubt I'll ever see him again. When I turned against my father, I more-or-less kissed my whole family goodbye."
