While all of that was very interesting, the thing that intrigued her the most was “after the accident” comment. She winced sympathetically, even though she had no frame of reference for Charlie’s predicament.
She was an only child, after all, though she’d always imagined that having a brother or sister would have been nice. She’d had to make do with imaginary friends. She’d had one named Charmin, she remembered, and in her imagination, Charmin had borne a remarkable resemblance to Casper the ghost.
“What accident?” she asked as blithely as possible, considering her level of curiosity.
Charlie muttered a curse, squeezed her eyes shut and then bumped the back of her head against the wall as though to knock a little sense into it. “I am losing my freaking mind.”
Well, hell. Mariette wiped down another table. “It’s fine,” she said. “Sorry I asked.”
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said, seemingly at a loss. “I keep slipping up. I’ve never been really good at keeping secrets, but lately I’ve been a lot worse.”
“If it’s a secret, you don’t have to tell me. Really,” she insisted. Naturally, she was dying to know. No doubt because it pertained directly to Jack and any nugget of insight—any key to figuring out what made him tick—was of interest to her.
Charlie cast a furtive glance out the front window, then looked back at Mariette. “It was an IED,” she confided in low tones. “He was lucky, ultimately. Two of the men who were with him were not.” She winced, her face softening with regret. “One of the boys was only twenty and Jack had talked about him often, seemed to really like him. The boy—Johnson, he called him—lost both of his legs. He bled out and died in Jack’s arms.”
Mariette’s stomach rolled, her heart gave a squeeze and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, no.”
“I know,” Charlie told her. “I don’t know how you move past something like that. How you cope after seeing something so horrible happen to a friend. To anyone, really,” she added.
Mariette either, for that matter. Justice was one thing—punishment for a crime, particularly those against children, she could handle. Senseless death was another matter altogether.
And what of Jack and his injuries? Mariette wondered. Granted he looked absolutely perfect to her, but how was it that he was able to walk away from a blast like that without any visible scars? Not that she’d seen all of him yet, but…
The key word there being yet, Lord help her.
“Jack’s eardrum was shattered so badly that it took three separate surgeries to repair it,” Charlie said, answering her unspoken question. “He wears a hearing aid in his right ear,” she said gesturing to her own and Mariette couldn’t have been any more surprised. She hadn’t noticed it at all.
Charlie’s lips quirked in sadness. “That’s why he’s grown his hair out,” she told her. “So that it covers it up.” She shook her head. “And it’s not vanity. It’s the idea that someone might think he’s compromised or incapable. You have to understand, Mariette, my brother was our hometown golden boy. All the girls wanted to be with him and the guys wanted to be like him. He was the star quarterback, the valedictorian of his class, the conquering hero every time he came home.” She released a low breath. “Except this last time. People treated him differently, as though he were damaged and no longer deserving of the pedestal they’d put him on. It was heartbreaking to watch, more difficult than anything I would have ever imagined.” She glanced up. “Do you know what a soldier hates more than anything?”
Mariette’s mind had been quickly processing Charlie’s words into images and the resulting pictures were heartbreaking. She blinked, belatedly returning her attention to Charlie.
“No,” she said, shaken. “What?”
Charlie’s shrug was melancholy. “Being pitied. He gladly made his sacrifice and would do it again and give more. And the people who pity him are the ones who don’t get that. That’s what’s difficult to move past.” She sobered, cast another glance out the window. “You can’t let on that you know,” she said. “He’d throttle me.”
Mariette swallowed, nodded her promise. “I won’t.”
“Had you noticed the hearing aid?” she asked.
“No, I hadn’t.” And she was relatively certain she’d been breathing quite heavily into that ear at one point last night. She felt a blush stain her cheeks and watched Charlie’s eyes sharpen with interest.
“He’d be pleased about that. I hope he’s been a good guest,” she remarked. “Not using all your hot water or leaving dirty dishes in the sink. That was always a pet peeve of our mother’s. Dishes went into the dishwasher, period.”
“He’s fine,” she said, because really what could she say? Your brother makes me hot and last night I came dangerously close to riding him like a mechanical bull at the fair on my kitchen floor? And, oh, yes, he did put his plate in the dishwasher?
Er…she didn’t think so.
As for tonight, she didn’t know what was going to happen, though she had her hopeful suspicions, of course. But when he’d offered to have himself removed from this case and someone else assigned in his place, Mariette had known a blind sense of panic that was completely disproportionate to the occasion. She’d known the instant he made the offer that she was going to refuse, but had been too shocked by her own reaction to address it right then.
Because refusing meant admitting that she wanted him as much as he said he wanted her. It meant she was going blindly into another relationship when she knew better. When she knew that she needed to stop for a while and take stock of what she genuinely wanted out of a man so that she wasn’t constantly putting her hopes into the wrong one.
And as much as the idea of telling him not to go terrified her, letting him leave without seeing what this was between them was more frightening.
There was something about him that she knew was different. Better. Wishful thinking? Possibly, because who wanted to be wrong again? But she didn’t think so. Jack Martin held a special sort of appeal, a spark that marked him as a true original. Mariette sighed.
Clearly the insane attraction had left her mentally compromised. There could be no other explanation for her utterly shameless, wanton behavior. She blinked, struck with sudden insight. He’d turned her into a tramp, Mariette realized. Was it horrible that she rather liked that?
The bell over the door tinkled, signaling a new customer. “I hope that smile is because you’re happy to see me,” an amused male voice said.
Mariette’s grin capsized and her gaze slid reluctantly to the speaker. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no.” She glanced at Charlie. “Would you mind helping him? I have something I need to see to in the back.”
Looking equally baffled and intrigued, Charlie nodded and stood. “Of course.”
Nathaniel sighed and a muscle flexed in his suddenly tight jaw, making a liar of his smile. “I was hoping to talk to you, Mariette,” he said. “You can’t give me five minutes?”
She turned and glared at him. “No.”
He darted a look at Charlie, then back at Mariette and took a step forward. “Really, Mariette,” he hissed. “This has gone on long enough. You know how I feel about you and I know how you feel about me.”
She was going to send him the bill when she ground all the enamel off her teeth. “If you knew how I felt about you, Nathaniel, you wouldn’t bother coming in here anymore. It is over.” She smirked at him. “Say hello to Tiffany for me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Mariette, that meant nothing. You know that,” he insisted.
“And that’s supposed to make it better?” she asked, dangerously close to losing her temper. “It’s done. Move on,” she said, wearying of this conversation. “I have.”
His bravado slipped. “What do you mean by that? M
oved on how? With who?”
“Would you like a cupcake?” Charlie interrupted cheerfully. “Perhaps a cookie or a croissant?”
He flicked his gaze to her, then located Mariette once again. “This is ridiculous, Mariette. I’ll be by at six when you close up and we can talk about this then.”
Perhaps Nathanial was the one who needed a hearing aid, Mariette thought. “No, we won’t,” she said. “You are not welcome here anymore.”
Infuriatingly, he shot her an indulgent grin. “We both know you don’t mean that. See you at six.” And before she could utter another single word, he strolled back out onto the sidewalk.
Charlie’s eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in apparent shock. “What the hell was that all about?”
Mariette sighed. “That’s my ex,” she said. “But, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, he doesn’t seem able to grasp the ‘ex’ part.”
“Perhaps someone should help him,” Charlie said, her voice throbbing with anger. “What a self-important, condescending, arrogant little ass. Who’s Tiffany?”
Mariette chuckled at Charlie’s apt description of her ex. She’d thought some of those same adjectives applied the first time she’d met him, but then he’d just kept asking her out and she let her vanity mistakenly revise her opinion. “The girl I caught gargling his balls the last time I went to see him at his office,” she said, her lips curving into a bitterly droll smile.
Charlie’s eyes widened. “Damn.”
“It was never going to work,” Mariette told her. “I was more broken up over my poor judgment than anything else.” She shook her head, genuinely baffled. “What in the hell was I thinking?”
“I’ll admit I was just wondering that myself,” Charlie told her.
Mariette chuckled. “I can’t say as I blame you.”
“You should mention this to Jack,” she said with a succinct nod. “He’d get rid of him for you.”
She’d just bet he would. “I can handle him.”
“Yes, but why would you when you don’t have to?”
“I’ll think about it,” Mariette said. She’d admit that it would be quite gratifying to see Nathaniel’s smug smile vanish at the sight of Jack. No doubt he could do some serious damage to those pricey veneers. She glanced at Charlie. “Have you heard from Jack today?”
“Earlier,” she said. “He called to gloat.”
This sibling rivalry/affection was quite fascinating. “Oh?”
“He was able to procure some information that I didn’t think he’d be able to get.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “He’s impossible when he’s right.”
“Congratulations,” Mariette said with an eyeroll of her own. “You’ve just described the male species.”
Charlie chuckled and her gaze turned soft. “They have their redeeming qualities,” she said. “Mine actually saved my life. I had no choice but to marry him.”
Stunned, Mariette goggled at her. “He saved your life?”
She nodded. “He did. He charged into a burning house, found me and carried me out.” Her gaze seemed to turn inward, remembering. “He nearly died trying to save me.”
“Wow.” Inexplicable envy twisted through her. It must be something to be loved like that. To have someone so determined to protect you that they’d offer themselves up instead. That their own life became insignificant. Her mother would have done that. Even her aunt, Mariette would admit. But she’d never had anyone who wasn’t blood related love her like that.
And that’s what she wanted, Mariette thought with a dawning sense of comprehension. She wanted what Charlie had. That’s why she kept trying, kept giving guys who didn’t deserve it the benefit of the doubt.
Was she happy with her life? Yes. She had a business she loved and a home of her own. She was proud of her accomplishments. But wanting to be loved—truly, genuinely loved—was something she imagined every person wanted. While other people might think that made her weak, Mariette knew better.
Because at least she was strong enough to admit it.
Charlie laughed softly. “Wow, indeed,” she said. “Try trying to win an argument with that sort of ammunition.” She rolled her eyes. “I-saved-your-life pretty much trumps everything else.”
Mariette imagined so.
Charlie sighed, seemingly wrapped up in her own thoughts. “Jack is actually going to be back a little early today. I’ve got an errand to run.”
Mariette nodded, envious of her new friend. “Thanks for being here, Charlie,” she said. “I’m truly grateful. I know that you’ve probably got more exciting things that you could be doing than babysitting me all day.”
“Not at all. I—” She suddenly clasped a hand over her mouth and darted for the bathroom with a garbled “Excuse me.”
Five minutes later, her face pale and her hands a little unsteady, she made her way back into the dining room. “I’m sorry. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me.”
“From here?” Mariette asked, alarmed. She was fanatic about expiration dates and making sure that everything was fresh and clean. She immediately started scanning the contents of her display cases, suspicious of everything in there now. She hoped that—
“No, no,” Charlie quickly assured her. “Nothing from here.”
She’d seen Charlie eating a macaroon earlier. She hoped like hell nothing was amiss with those. Several dozen of those had gone out for a baby shower this morning. The last thing she wanted to do was make the expectant mother and all her friends sick. Damn. A note of panic made her belly flip.
“Do you think it was the macaroon?” Mariette asked her, her worried gaze swinging to Charlie’s. “I didn’t see you eat anything else. Did you eat anything else? I—”
Charlie put a hand on her arm. “Mariette, I promise you nothing from your case has made me ill.” Her lips rolled into a smile. “Seriously. You don’t have to worry.”
Charlie almost looked amused, which, frankly, annoyed the hell out of Mariette. This was her business, her livelihood. “It’s just I sent a large order of those out—”
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out. “It’s morning sickness, not your macaroons.” Her eyes rounded in immediate dismay. “Shit, shit, shit,” Charlie lamented, evidently regretting the impulsive outburst. “That’s twice now, dammit, and I haven’t even told Jay yet.” She looked up at her. “See?” she said. “This is what I mean. I’m just spewing it out there—” she gave an airy wave of her hand “—and can’t seem to help myself.”
Dumbstruck, Mariette felt a grin slide over her lips and her gaze inexplicably dropped to Charlie’s still-flat abdomen. “That’s because it’s harder to keep good news a secret.”
A light suddenly gleamed in Charlie’s gaze. “You know, you’re exactly right.”
“You should tell Jay,” she said. “Before you tell the mail man or your dry cleaner or a total stranger.”
“I know,” she said. “But I wanted to make it special. Plan a romantic dinner or something and I haven’t come up with anything that’s over-the-top spectacular.”
Mariette grinned. “The news is what’s over-the-top spectacular, you little nitwit. How you tell him isn’t important—it’s the telling him that is.” Mariette glanced at her case, then back to Charlie. “But I do have an idea if you’re interested in hearing it.”
“Of course.”
“See those chocolate eggs in the case?”
Charlie gasped and nodded.
“Initially I only made them for Easter, but they were such a hit with the kids I stock them year round. Those have a creamy filling, but I could give you a hollow one and you could—”
“Yes!” Charlie interrupted delighted. “Yes, yes, yes!” She gave Mariette an impulsive hug. “How quickly can you put it together?
”
“I’ve got some hollow eggs in the back,” Mariette told her, pleased that she could help. “You give me what you want put in it and I can have it ready in a couple of minutes.”
“I’ve got the perfect thing,” Charlie told her. “I’ll call Jay and have him come down.” She hugged her again. “Oh, thank you, Mariette. You’re brilliant. An egg,” she said wonderingly, her eyes gleaming with happiness. “How fitting.”
“I’ll warn you now,” Mariette told her. “I’m going to hide behind the counter so that I can watch his reaction.”
Charlie grinned and she practically bounced on the balls of her feet. “I don’t care if you hang from the ceiling à la Mission: Impossible,” she said. “I just can’t wait to tell him.”
And now neither could she, Mariette thought, smiling, happy to be a part of it. Thrilled though she was, a twinge of unexplainable melancholy pinged her heart. She’d have to think about that later, Mariette thought, annoyed with herself.
These Martin siblings were seriously messing with her head…and possibly with her heart, as well.
9
BINGO, JACK THOUGHT as he watched the two thugs climb out of the older-model navy blue Cadillac. He knew enough about goons to spot one and both of these guys had more brawn than brains. And knowing what he knew now after visiting the hospital, it took every bit of restraint Jack had not to spring out of the car and pummel the living hell out of both of them. Damned bullies. He hated bullies.
Unfortunately, until he knew exactly what he was dealing with, he suspected he could make Bobby Ray’s situation worse rather than better. His best plan of action at the moment, much as it galled him and went against the grain, was to gather information and find out who they were.
Then pummel the hell out of them.
Harsh? Not in his opinion. After what the pair did to Bobby Ray, they needed the ever-loving hell beaten out of them and he grimly suspected Bobby Ray had never had a single person ever mete out any justice—or even mercy, for that matter—on his behalf.
The Keeper Page 9
