At the Saab, Lucky stood by the passenger door, a grin coming alive as soon as she locked eyes with him. He then pulled in his bottom lip and glanced down to Jaxon in the driver seat.
Yep, I know, it’s time for you to go. She strolled up to him and with the pad of her index finger, smoothed out that small patch of hair he liked to leave unshaved. It jutted out just so, as always. What did he have to be nervous about? He was a guy. Vangie would probably be all over him. Aach!
Jaxon’s foot tested the gas pedal, making the engine hum. She’d better let Lucky get in, sit down and hold on tight.
“Hey, don’t worry. He shouldn’t kill you.”
“That doesn’t sound good, Trista. You do realize that, right?”
“Just kidding. Good luck at your meeting tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” He looked down at her, focusing on her lips.
In that moment, she’d have offered him the floor space in her office and her spare sleeping bag. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight. Instead, she accepted a quick peck on the cheek before he lowered himself into Jaxon’s Saab.
She leaned down far enough to look Jaxon in the eyes. “I’ll see you on Saturday then, at two. Be nice.”
Jaxon nodded after rolling his eyes and then the two men lurched backward and then forward. The Saab was a blur. “Good luck, boys,” she called quietly after them, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes.
Back inside, she found her buddy at the front desk. “Ben, you’re free to go shower and eat something besides ramen noodles.”
“Your eyes are red, Tris. Were you crying?”
“Pshaw, no. Not hardly. Go on, get out of here before I change my mind and beg you to stay.” She left Ben quickly to head back to her office. Once there, she wiped again at her eyes.
Chapter Fifteen
Jaxon had a beautiful home, a gorgeous little girl and a woman who could melt the steel of the Eiffel Tower.
Vangie Agosto was stunning and surprisingly charming. Lucky couldn’t help but home in on the way her red lips worked around her mouth’s natural pout to let her words out. That first night, she’d greeted him and Jaxon at the door. She had soft brown hair styled like the women in the classic movies he’d seen, but she wore a sheer black robe that covered a silky, floor-length night gown, something he’d surely never seen in person. She’d smiled at him and then purred to Jaxon that she’d be in their room, waiting.
At breakfast the next morning, he’d eaten Froot Loops with Maryella who’d been curious about his accent and wanted to know all about Tennessee. He’d had to remind himself that his sweet little girl cousin was only five years old. And smart and pretty. She’d be a heartbreaker sooner than Jaxon knew it, just like Trista.
He’d expected a lot worse from this home. By Trista’s account, Vangie should have been green-skinned with jealousy. All in all, things weren’t that bad. He’d gone to sleep last night looking forward to the party now that it seemed Trista had nothing to worry about.
Just now, he finished up another round of cereal with Maryella, promised he’d tell her all about the special horses they had where he was from, then followed a very tired looking Jaxon out to his car.
“Shit, it’s early.” Jaxon rolled his neck then chugged the rest of a bottle of water from his car’s side door. “Let’s go.”
“All right.” He appreciated Jaxon’s help but wondered what kind of impression the two of them would make at this meeting if one of them was cursing and dressed for a night in the club. “It’s fine with me if you want to sleep in the car while I go in,” he offered. But Jaxon insisted on going.
“Hello, gentlemen.” A secretary chimed and graciously asked them to have a seat. “I’ll let Mr. Danson know you’ve arrived.”
He was wearing the only suit he owned and had been thankful for the iron Jaxon had loaned him last night. He’d gone over the gray slacks and black shirt so many times, he was surprised he hadn’t lifted the color out and left burn marks in its place. Back home, they did their business in jeans, which he would love to be wearing right now. But this was important. He tugged at the inner seam of his pant leg, hoping to loosen the pinch in his crotch.
Jaxon whispered into Lucky’s ear behind the back of his leather-banded hand. “Hey, this guy, Danson, he’s pretty straight up. No punches pulled. He’s gonna tell you like it is so just listen to what he has to say.”
The secretary busied herself by arranging a fresh vase of flowers when the intercom lit up and she summoned them from their seats.
“Okay gentlemen, the office is the first one on the left. Mr. Danson is ready for you.”
They thanked her and headed down the hall. Lord, please let this go my way. It wasn’t just about helping his family anymore.
Jaxon shifted into reverse and checked that the area behind him was clear. “Shit mate, I didn’t see that coming.”
“Me neither,” he said as he lifted his eyebrows and raked a hand through his neatly slicked back hair.
“Well, at least he saved you some hassle. Hey, I’m sorry it didn’t go your way, Lucky.”
“It’s okay. I’ll figure something out.” He’d have to come up with that other way, quick. The thought of going home empty handed had never occurred to him.
“Funny little Cuzzy, but I actually believe you.”
Little did Jaxon know that Lucky’s plans now involved having Trista with him, wherever he was. If the money and opportunity didn’t happen in California, he’d make things work back home. Maybe Jaxon had sensed that when Mr. Danson had considered backing Lucky if he could find one more investor. Jaxon hadn’t said anything and Lucky wouldn’t put a grown man on the spot. He wouldn’t lie; he was surprised his cousin hadn’t offered to help him out. But who could blame a guy for not wanting to give up his fortune? And his best friend? Lucky could care less about the money, but Trista? No way would he put himself in a situation where losing her was a possibility. Apparently to Jaxon, having him around meant exactly that.
It might be seventy degrees out, maybe, as they barreled their way south on Interstate 5. That is until they hit the lunchtime traffic. Apparently Jaxon figured this was as good a time as any for a talk.
“So, what’s going on with you and Trissy?”
They were grown men and they were family. He shouldn’t have to hide anything from his cousin. “What do you want to know, exactly?”
“How much is there to know, exactly?” Jaxon asked. “Lucky? How much?”
“Look, I understand that you’re protective of her. But I’d never hurt Trista if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Jaxon huffed out a breath. “So you’re in pretty deep.”
“I care about her very much, if that’s what you’re asking.” He didn’t feel the need to give Jaxon a play by play. His cousin had said enough, the implication was understood. Jaxon had Trista’s back and would plant his foot in Lucky’s ass if he so much as made her cry. He got it.
“She’s special, Lucky…and doesn’t need to be hurt by anyone else.” Jaxon frowned then turned his attention to the sea of cars ahead of them.
Hurt her? The thought warped through his mind as Jaxon drove on in silence for a while. He would never do that. He’d never laid a malicious hand to any woman and never would. He’d carefully sidestepped Trista’s awkward offers, unsure of the reason for why she’d acted that way and then held her through the painful night in Oklahoma.
Maybe Jaxon didn’t want him making any promises to Trista he couldn’t keep. The two were best friends. What if Jaxon knew Trista would never agree to leave California? And feared her being forced into a long distance relationship. Maybe Jaxon had a point.
“So what’s your plan now, mate?”
His turn to blow out a forceful breath. “I was really hoping today’s would have worked out. Damn, it would have been nice.”
“You gonna head back to Tennessee?” Jaxon asked, still staring straight ahead.
It quickly dawned on Lucky that this was one of
those moments in life where a man had to be a man and do what was right for someone else.
“I think I have to. Regroup and come up with some other plan.” Win the lottery.
Jaxon scratched at the back of his head. “You know we go out on the road in less than two weeks.”
“Yeah, Trista mentioned that.”
“So, you thought about taking some time off and maybe catching a show or two?”
It was an invitation, for sure, but he’d never pictured himself as a traveling fan. Besides, there was work to be done back home. He couldn’t just follow the band around. And anyway, he’d be out of spending cash soon. There was no way in hell he’d live off anyone else’s earnings. He had to go home.
“I’d like to but I’ve got to get back to work.”
Green and white reflective markers passed one by one until he had counted six miles without a word from his cousin. When Jaxon finally spoke up, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. “You think your father and uncle could hold down the fort if you were to accept a job away from the shop?”
Where Jaxon was headed with this, he didn’t know. “I suppose so. But why? They don’t need to. I’ll be there…”
“Well, what if I hired you to work for me on this tour?”
Come again? What kind of work was his cousin referring to?
“Doing what, exactly?” He had to ask.
“Well, don’t be offended, but you could probably take up as the lead carpenter. You know, building the stage and all. It’s tough work, lots of hands-on and the hours aren’t the best, but I think Trissy would be happy to have you along.”
Trista needed to teach him how to read people better. Boy had he pegged his cousin all wrong.
“Why would I be offended and why are you being so helpful now? No offense but…”
“Well, I feel like I kind of owe it to you. Not just because this whole deal fell through, but you know, for leaving like I did and not keeping in touch with you and your daddy and…your uncle.”
Jaxon couldn’t even refer to his own father as such. He had a lifetime of guilt heaped on his shoulders. That must be what had driven him to make the job offer.
But lead carpenter was nothing to be ashamed of. Back home, a job like that’d earn a man more than a decent wage. He could buy some land, build a home. The both of which he already had. No, if he took Jaxon’s offer, it wouldn’t be for the money.
A vision of Trista dressed in her white cotton nightgown with her tangled blonde hair pulled up on top of her head, sitting by the fireplace on a blanket spread out for the two of them at his home in Tennessee flashed in his mind. It didn’t take long for the thought of a possible family with her to come rolling in. He wasn’t getting any younger. The gorgeous woman, the beautiful child, the home. The life. He realized he wanted everything Jaxon had, only his way. But in order to get that, he’d have to do things Jaxon’s way first.
Chapter Sixteen
“Hey darlin’, I have something I need to talk to you about, when we have time alone.”
Lucky greeted Trista nearby where she’d parked, all the way down on the curb by the street, a healthy walk from the sprawling curved driveway of Jaxon’s mission-style home.
The strict ninety-degree angle in the bend of her elbow and the way her fingers coiled tightly around the strap of her small purse made escorting her up the walkway tough. Of all the Trista’s he’d met the past week, this one felt the most foreign. Instead of jockeying for her arm, he relented and found the small of her back, easing her along, slowly with a steady hand. He’d have to share his news later.
Now it was time to concentrate on protecting his lady.
Turned out, Trista had every reason to be as rigid as she was. He’d gotten a bird’s eye view during dinner at a local seafood restaurant, when something had sent Vangie flying off into a fit back at Jaxon’s house the night before. He’d missed whatever had ruffled her to start but the end was unbelievable. The red stain on Vangie’s lips seemed to have inched up into her cocoa brown eyes. Her eyebrows arched more severely than Cruella Deville’s.
The way she let into Jaxon became uncomfortable in a nanosecond. He’d wanted to sneak out the back door but Jaxon had moved the argument upstairs. Even with the separation of the home’s well-built Spanish walls, he could still hear Vangie reaming Jaxon. And he wondered if they cared that their daughter might overhear. He’d peeped in on Maryella to make sure she was asleep then shut her door. Thank God she had been. More than anything, he’d wanted to leave and go see Trista then and there. But he’d stayed put.
It was a mistake.
He’d been about to step outside and at least call Trista when Vangie had stormed down the stairs, acting more like a tantrum-induced toddler than a sophisticated woman. She’d turned to him and said, “You better realize the favor I’m doing you by letting that conniving bitch in my house.”
He’d never wanted to slap a woman in his life, before that moment, but he’d held his tongue and bit back his rage at her belligerence.
Vangie Agosto was Jaxon’s problem, not his.
Lord, please let us all act like adults today. Myself included.
Trista stopped them just shy of the front door. “Well, we could make time now. It sounds kind of important,” she said.
But, for fear of making the woman of the house wait, Lucky found himself walking on egg shells. Such power over a man in the wrong woman’s hands was a dangerous thing.
“No, I think I’d like to wait until after the party,” he said to her with a hint of longing. No use trying to act like he wasn’t desperate for it to be just the two of them.
Trista’s mouth strained into a crooked smile while her eyebrows pulled together but she slid her small hand into the crook of his elbow.
“Okay. If you insist,” she said, exhaling. Three times. Then she tugged him through the door.
* * * *
The second she stepped foot in the house, the boney finger of bitterness tapped invisibly at her shoulder. And it was heartbreaking. To think she’d once called this place home.
Until Jaxon had shown up one night with her. Within two weeks, Trista had been asked to move out. Talk about having the rug pulled out from under you.
Her reminiscent heartbreak was quickly transformed, however, into complete awe. Ben was the first to greet her and Lucky, the couple as they were. Holy cow, the place had never been this pink.
“What do you think? Too much sparkly feathery boa or, I could add more, if it’s not enough. What do you think?” Ben stood at her side, biting the tip of his thumbnail, but managed a nervous smile toward Lucky who released her to raise his hands up. What a way to tell a guy he was on his own.
“Hey, I was in charge of ordering the pizza and putting the candles on the cake.” Lucky took a sweeping look around at what his deco-buddy had done to Jaxon’s villa.
“It looks great, Ben.” She spun around the entrance way to the house. After her last twirl, she caught him rolling his crystal green, popping eyes. “What? It’s not every day a girl stumbles into a fairytale castle. Has Maryella seen this yet?”
Ben and Lucky both shot her a look and Ben nearly shushed her. Oh yeah, plink went her bubble as she remembered whose territory they were in.
“Quiet voices,” whispered Ben and his big eyes.
“Whatever,” she whispered back.
Pink and silver stringed feathers looped graciously over all six Spanish-styled arches in the entryway. They mingled in the sturdy iron lamps that hung from the tall ceilings and they danced across the dark, ponderosa pine shelving units built into the stucco walls of this once rustic room. It looked like birthday party fairies had pirouetted and flitted about, leaving the shimmer of their dust behind. Now she understood Ben’s earlier rush to leave the studio. Truly, he had outdone himself.
“Uh, do you think it’s too much? Is Jaxon going to be pissed that I turned his home into whatever it is I’ve turned this into? Maybe I should take some of this down.” Ben start
ed forward, intent on de-princessifying some mounted, fairy dusted candle holders. He took in a deep breath then huffed, sending glittered confetti into a tizzy above and below his head.
“No, Ben. Leave it. It’s perfect. Trust me, Jaxon won’t say a word when Maryella sees it and loves it! Don’t be so nervous. Anyway, I can’t believe he hasn’t come down already.”
Ben looked up but she could tell he was holding something back. Yep, guilty as charged.
“He’s here. Just uh, you know, he’s been upstairs. You know, busy with stuff. Maryella is taking a nap down here in her room,” Ben confessed.
That was code for Jaxon is upstairs, dealing with Vangie. Thank goodness Maryella was still young enough to cocoon herself in naptime. Hopefully things between her parents would improve before she grew out of that stage.
“Oh,” she said.
They all knew what that meant.
“So you really don’t think Jaxon’s gonna kill me? I mean, look at that…” He pointed to the candelabra made to resemble nesting birds. The nests sparkled in all their pink glory. “That stuff really gets everywhere. You know, giving a bag of glitter to a guy who rarely sees the sun—dangerous. It’s like some pleasant beaming side of me has been unleashed on the world.”
A giggle burst up from her belly and she hugged her silly, lanky friend. He was genuinely nervous about pissing off their boss, even though Ben dwarfed Jaxon, not to mention Lucky, too. But because Jaxon was Australian and Ben had heard one too many stories of how scrappy they could be, he was stone serious. Benjamin Wright might need to be resuscitated when Jaxon saw the effort he’d put forth for his daughter tonight. She’d bet someone would be christened Uncle Benny.
“Like I said, don’t worry. You did a fabulous job.” She winked his way.
Hands on his hips and head bowed, he stepped away from the candle holder and then brushed stray bits of confetti from his nose. “Okay, if you say so. But if he does come after me, you better have my back.” Ben’s brown hair flopped down obscuring much of his face, held partially in check by his black wool hat.
Sidewalk Flower Page 14
