"Drugs are to this century what alcohol was to the last." Headley gingerly removed an old hypodermic from the trash and wielded it for Axell to see. "Only kids are more involved today, so they don't have fancy nightclubs. They have places like this. The city is spilling into suburbia, Holm. We're smack in its path."
Axell grimaced at the evidence that someone was using the place for drugs. He'd have the council expedite condemnation proceedings and get the place torn down. He ought to find out who owned it. Maybe Maya would know.
"You know, I've been thinking about that kid named Alyssum," Headley replied irrelevantly, returning the needle to the trash. "He was working construction with some crew out of Texas about thirty years ago. Nice kid, ambitious."
Axell tried every key on his ring, but none worked on the cellar door. He pulled out a credit card and tried jimmying the lock. "Maya said she was born here. Probably her father. You should be telling her this. I doubt she knows much about her parents."
"The kid quit sharing my bottle after he got married. Seems his bride had an alcoholic mother and wouldn't tolerate drinking."
The credit card trick didn't work on old doors. Giving up in disgust, Axell jammed the card back in his wallet and picked his way around trash bags toward Headley. He had the sneaking suspicion the reporter was leading up to the connection between Pfeiffer and Maya and her sister.
"Don't take that route, old friend," Axell warned. "Maya isn't interested."
"I just thought you ought to know," Headley replied, leaning on his cane as he opened the alley door. "The bride's maiden name was Arnold, if I remember rightly. Her mother was the black sheep of the family, a little too freewheeling for the postwar years. She ran a seamy nightclub during the fifties when the county was dry and had a daughter out of wedlock. Scandal, even if it was before my time."
Before his time, Axell snorted to himself. Headley had probably helped build the nightclub. As they hit the sunshine outside, the name "Arnold" hit him smack between the eyes.
Maya could be related to the mayor, from the wrong side of the blanket.
Oh, hell, first Pfeiffer, now the mayor. He must have been out of his mind that day he'd walked into The Curiosity Shoppe to speak with Constance's teacher. Maybe that "Fate" Maya kept talking about had switched sides from her to him. Maybe he just ought to stand here and hope a bolt of lightning struck him.
"I suppose you're going to tell me next that the mayor's family ran Maya's family out of town?" Axell asked in resignation as they wended their way through the alley and back across the street to the restaurant. This was a small Southern town. The mayor's family wouldn't like evidence of any scandal around once they took up politics. Ralph's father had been mayor back in the seventies.
"Actually, I hadn't thought about that, but the chances are pretty good." Headley beamed at him with approval. "Want me to find out?"
"I think I'd rather not know," Axell said gloomily.
He needed to get his life back in order again, he decided as he drove toward home later. Maya had been right. He liked all his soldiers in a row, and he didn't see why he couldn't have them that way just because marriage had added a few extra complications.
Constance was safe and happy; that was the important thing. She was blooming like a wildflower under Maya's attentions. So the marriage was definitely not a mistake. It had accomplished just what he'd hoped.
And then some. Axell ruthlessly shoved aside all thoughts of Maya sprawled across her bed in the morning sunshine, her hair an auburn tangle across the pillow, her breasts taunting creamy cones awaiting his taste. He wasn't a sensual man, he told himself. The sex was convenient, but he didn't need to dwell on it.
So, if Constance and sex were in order, what else needed reorganizing? What were his priorities here?
His license. He had to protect his liquor license. It was his livelihood, his means of taking care of his family. He'd prefer to err on the side of paranoia and believe someone was up to sneaky tricks by sending those druggies into his place. This was a small town—not so rural any longer, but small. The cops should be able to spot a dealer from a mile away. They'd know where he lived. Something was not right with this picture.
He didn't want to believe that flaw was Maya's sister. For Matty and Maya's sake, he prayed Cleo was clean and could stay that way. For the sake of his license and reputation, she'd damned well better be. Maybe he could hire someone to work in the store and keep an eye on her. Cleo would pitch a fit.
He pulled into the driveway behind an unfamiliar car blocking his access to the garage. Now what? He didn't know anyone who drove white Fords. The damn thing looked like a rental.
Climbing out of the Rover, Axell heard the musical chimes of childish laughter. Rolling his shoulders and relaxing some of the tension his morning's detective work had generated, he sauntered in the direction of the backyard, past the cascade of petunias Maya had planted in pots on the driveway wall.
An obscene blue plastic pool jarred the sedate view of landscaped lawn. He'd intended to eventually build a real pool, but he'd wanted to wait until the kids were older.
The kids...
Axell swallowed past the lump in his throat at the thought of the children he'd once intended to have. He still had Constance, and now, Alexa, and it looked as if he had Matty again. He frowned at that as he strolled over to watch the horseplay in the pool. He'd thought Cleo had taken her son for the weekend.
Maya looked up from where she was happily planting colorful banks of impatiens around the spindly boxwood. He hated to tell her, but those plants would croak in the noon sun. He'd already figured out she knew diddle-all about flowers but chose them for their colors. He had to admit, they cheered up the boring yard.
"Axell, there you are!"
That wasn't the musical greeting he'd anticipated. Maya's sunny smile froze as she raised her eyebrows and jerked her head in the direction of the deck.
Oh, shit. Sandra. The chalkboard-scratching tones finally registered. Axell checked the deck, recognized the plastic bubble of hair, and grimacing, bent over and kissed Maya. "I'm getting that beeper," he whispered against her welcoming lips. "I want to know when to run next time."
"Forget that, mister. She's your problem. Just be lucky I haven't roped her to the deck and planted petunias between her teeth."
With that enchanting image to contemplate, Axell headed for the deck. The kids were apparently too engrossed in a watery battle to greet him. Alexa slept in her shaded basket. All was well with his world except for the blond fly in his suntan oil.
"I told her you wouldn't appreciate that trailer park trash in your yard," Sandra complained as he reached the stairs. "But she wouldn't listen. Constance will be wearing tattoos and those dreadful pink plastic shoes before long. Whatever could you have been thinking?"
Biting his tongue, Axell vowed to buy Constance the first pair of pink plastic shoes he found.
Wearing a pressed linen shorts set and oversized sunglasses, Sandra sat beneath the patio umbrella sipping an iced drink. With her manicured fingers, she gestured at Maya. "Just look. She's planting impatiens in the sun. They'll be dead by morning."
Axell thought he recognized the grim determination in the set of Maya's chin as she shoved her trowel into the loose mulch beneath the shrubs. The yard wasn't so large that she couldn't hear every word of Sandra's shrill complaint.
"And what brings you back to our part of the country?" he asked, checking the cooler Maya had brilliantly provided to prevent the kids from running in and out in their wet suits. He smiled as he discovered a bottle of spring water.
"I came to check on Constance," Sandra replied.
Translation: She'd had a fight with her family in Texas and had hastily repaired to her North Carolina friends for sympathy. When her husband had been alive, it had worked in reverse.
"Well, I'm certain Constance is delighted to see you." Unscrewing the bottle top, Axell settled into a lounge chair. He was aware of Maya out of the corner of hi
s eye, but strangely enough, he didn't feel compelled to shield her from Sandra's venom. He thought Maya had his former mother-in-law's number and could take care of herself better than he could. His gypsy had backbone. It was a rather relaxing revelation.
"What are you going to do about that pool?" Sandra demanded. "The neighbors will be incensed."
Axell agreed the pool was an abomination, but it was a practical solution for the moment, even if it did kill the manicured lawn. "What neighbors?" he asked. "They'd have to walk through the woods to see it. Surely you didn't come all the way from Texas to complain about a little pool."
"No, I've decided I'm moving back here. If you won't take care of Constance properly, I will. My suitcases are still in the car. If you'll get them out, I'll begin house hunting on Monday."
Je-humping-hosaphat. Axell pinched his eyes shut and tried to mute more virulent swear words as he pictured the immediate consequences of this decision.
The kids and Maya currently occupied the guest wing. He had the choice of installing Sandra in Maya's room, or in the sanctity of his wing of the house —the only island of serenity in this chaotic world he could call his own.
Opening his eyes and glancing at the curve of Maya's shoulders above her halter top, Axell knew damned well Sandra wasn't the one he'd be introducing to his inner sanctum.
Chapter 32
Reality is a crutch for people who can't handle drugs.
"They're all asleep. Are you sure this will work?" Maya asked worriedly as she slipped into the family room carrying the last of Alexa's blankets. She didn't know how she'd accumulated so much stuff in a few short months. She used to be able to pack everything she owned into a suitcase. Those days were over.
"I'm not sure of anything," Axell replied a trifle grimly, taking the blankets from her. "I just couldn't find a polite way of throwing the woman out on her ear."
The urge to reach out and kiss him bubbled deep in her belly. Her Norse god looked so bewildered and beleaguered that she wanted to cuddle him and tell him everything would be all right, even if it meant sacrificing his holy privacy. But he wasn't a child to be cuddled. She could tell that by the fire igniting in Axell's eyes the instant she tucked her hand between the buttons of his shirt.
"Well, just pretend I'm a wanton woman come to share your bed for the evening. You can throw me out in the morning."
"And keep Alexa?" he inquired in a deep, low drawl that chased shivers through her midsection.
"Well, there is that," she admitted as she followed him down the hall to his rooms. Rooms.
They passed a comfortable den/office complete with bar and television, where he could retreat to watch football while the kids watched cartoons. The next room had been turned into a home gym with all the latest paraphernalia. No wonder the damned man looked like a pinup model beneath those suits. He'd probably worked off a lot of frustration.
She supposed the smaller room next to it could have been anything when the house was designed, but Axell had installed clothes racks and used it for a dressing room. Alexa's cradle and toys added a splash of color to the rows of dark suits all hanging in the same direction. He dropped the stack of blankets on a dresser and leaned over to adjust the covers over Alexa's defiantly upturned rear end. Ever since she'd learned to roll over, she'd insisted on sleeping on her stomach. Or her knees.
Watching Axell's big body tenderly leaning over the tiny cradle brought tears to Maya's eyes and a painful longing to her heart. She'd gone and done it now, she realized. She supposed it had been inevitable. She'd been in love with the intelligent curiosity peering from behind his smoky eyes from the day he'd walked into the shop. She'd fallen in love with his strength of character and competence the day he'd delivered Alexa. And the night he'd slammed her against the wall and taken her to heaven...
She was lost. Hopeless. Done for. She loved the big dope so much it hurt in every cell and pore of her body. She had shit for brains.
She'd never felt so alone in her life as she did when Axell held out his hand to lead her into the chamber he called his.
His. The room was his. The house was his. She was his. And now he even owned her heart, while she had nothing. She'd been terrified before, but nothing to compare with the sinking sensation of total vulnerability.
She'd learned at an early age not to care—not to care when she got yelled at for something she didn't do, or for something she did do but didn't know was wrong. She'd learned not to care when no one hung her pictures on their walls or hugged her for making A's. She hadn't even cared when Stephen hadn't bothered to call after she told him she was pregnant. Not for long, anyway.
But now she cared so much she'd do almost anything Axell asked in hopes he'd love her back and want to keep her.
As Axell drew her into his darkened room and pulled her shirt over her head, Maya shivered at the possessive caress of his big hands over her bare breasts.
"I didn't think this day would ever end," he whispered near her ear as he stroked her breasts, arousing them to aching tenderness.
If she could just remember this was only sex to him... Forcing her mind to focus on the physical, Maya fumbled at his shirt buttons until her palms lay flat against his heated chest. Axell was always warm, and strong, and hard...
Dammit, she couldn't think straight. She wanted to whisper love words and kiss him all over, but then he'd know he had her, that he'd won, that he could do with her as he wished. She couldn't allow that. Somehow, she had to retain her independence, so when the day came that he threw her out, she could walk away without looking back.
"Your new manager is learning so fast you didn't need to keep him company tonight?" she asked, deliberately licking at his nipple and triumphantly feeling his shudder.
"The crowd was light when I left. He knows how to reach me if there's—" He groaned deep in his throat as she unfastened his belt and brushed her knuckles against the coarse hair there. "It's not supposed to be this way," he muttered, finishing the task she'd started and stepping out of his trousers.
Maya wanted to question that absurdity, but Axell swept her from the floor and flung her on the bed and she forgot the question and everything else.
"Axell..." She breathed his name as he stripped off her shorts and underwear in a single stroke and the cool air and his hot hand caressed her intimately at the same time.
"I'll make this up to you later," he murmured, pressing his hand against her mound, "but I've been thinking about this all day and can't stop now."
Maya grabbed Axell's arms and choked back a scream as he slammed into her, sending her spiraling over the edge before she knew what hit her. Even as her blood boiled and her brain melted to putty, her soul reacted to the matching desperation in his and reached out with all the power she possessed.
Their rhythm pounded a steady "yes, yes, yes!" until tears of joy slipped from the corners of her eyes and all the atoms of her body surrendered to the sweet oblivion of Axell's obsession. As he drove up inside her and shuddered with the force of a raging river crashing through a dam, Maya surrendered to the bliss of physical satisfaction.
This was enough, for now.
* * *
"Let her watch cartoons," Axell grumbled as Alexa's coo's threatened to become squalls in the early dawn.
With her nose buried in thick feather pillows and Axell's heavy, muscled arm holding her down, Maya woke from hazy dreams of being twenty-months pregnant again. Only, this time, the child was Axell's.
Shivering at this premonition, she shoved at his hand. He merely curled his arm around her chest and dragged her backward against him, plucking her nipple into instant readiness.
"I didn't know you were going to be insatiable," she yawned, snuggling her posterior into the masculine angle of his hips, waking rapidly at the rod probing between her thighs—the hot rod, she giggled to herself.
"In a few months, you'll be staggering around in a ratty bathrobe, yelling at the kids," Axell warned as his fingers did wonderful, marvelous th
ings to her awakening body. "Let's enjoy the honeymoon while it lasts."
While it lasts. Those prophetic words rang in Maya's heart even as Axell held her hips and her body opened wide at his command. She buried her cries of ecstasy and protest in her pillow with his thrust.
She'd forgotten to take her pill last night, she remembered in panic as Axell stroked her deep from the inside. Damned dreams had a way of infiltrating the brain to become self-fulfilling. As his rhythm became wilder, she vowed to take two today to compensate.
In another few months, Cleo could be back in jail, the state could be condemning her school, and Axell could be sorry he'd ever met her. She certainly didn't need another baby tying her down when it all collapsed around her again.
As her womb shivered in joy and accepted the hot flow from her husband's body, Maya wished it could be otherwise.
* * *
Her insides still aching with the force and promise of Axell's lovemaking all weekend, Maya added the final touches to the dining room mural. She was still furious with Cleo. She didn't dare step inside the store until she calmed down. The peace of the empty house—Sandra had gone out house shopping—appealed to the turmoil inside her. The roar and grind of a heavy truck outside shattered any illusion of peace.
Holding her paintbrush and glancing out the bay window, she frowned in bewilderment as a huge tree backed into the yard.
A heavy construction truck stopped near a stake someone had driven into the lawn. Even as she gaped in astonishment, the wide drill on the back of the truck lowered and began to dig.
In awe, Maya watched the process of a full-grown tree miraculously sprouting in the barren back yard—a tree that would shade her tender plants, cool the kitchen, provide branches for the children to play in and the birds to sing from. She could hang feeders from those limbs and watch the goldfinches and cardinals. A tree was life.
Dixie Rebel (The Carolina Magnolia Series, Book 1) Page 27
