Impossible Dreams (21 page)

He wasn’t accustomed to rejection, but Maya probably
had it right. They’d never work out. What could he have been thinking? He
couldn’t run for mayor with a wife with purple hair and dragons on her
shoes. He should be feeling relief, not this looming shadow of dread, as if the
dry sands of the Sahara whispered closer.

Alexa blinked at him with big round eyes and grabbed his
finger. The knot in Axell’s stomach twisted tighter as they stared at
each other.

“Hand her here. I’ve got dry diapers in the
drawer. One of the mothers from the day school gave them to Selene. She would
never have remembered on her own.” Maya leaned over and produced a
disposable diaper and waited patiently for Axell to hand over her daughter.

Her
daughter. Just because he’d delivered Alexa
and worried about her welfare didn’t make Alexa his. Almost reluctantly,
Axell handed the whimpering infant to her mother. A tiny fist wouldn’t
let go of his finger. If Alexa were his, he’d have the right to continue
letting her hold it as she nursed. If Maya were his... He was doing this for
the kid, he reminded himself.

“Infant formula is expensive,” he argued, unable
to give up without a fight. “The stuff you brought home from the hospital
won’t last much longer.” He’d spent too long studying this
issue. It grated on his self-esteem to think he could lose an argument to a
twenty-five-year-old gypsy who didn’t know where her next meal was coming
from.

His mistake had been treating her as one of the empty-headed
college students working at his bar for clothes money — like Angela. It was
easier to work this out in his head by thinking of Maya as malleable, but that
nonconfrontational attitude of hers hid a world of hard-earned wisdom. It would
behoove him to remember that.

He watched as Maya efficiently changed the soggy diaper,
dropped the soiled one in a trash can beside the bed, and turned her shoulder
on him to place the child to her breast. “I haven’t given up yet.
And there are programs to help children from families of limited income.”

Food stamps. She was probably living on food stamps. My God,
a teacher with a master’s degree, and she was living on welfare. How in
hell did single women with only a high school diploma make it?

That wasn’t his problem. Right now, his problem was
providing a mother for Constance, a quality mother, not some socially
ambitious, money hungry female. Maya was the only woman he knew who met the
requirements as a mother for Constance, and who might conceivably fit into his
life without constant demands and emotional upheaval. And she still
wasn’t accepting his offer.

“I’ll get her bottle — just in case,” he
added when Maya threw him an annoyed look. The damned woman didn’t know
when to give up, but he didn’t have a problem with perseverance. He just
wasn’t going to let the kid starve.

When he returned with the warm infant formula, Alexa was
fretting and beating her fists hungrily against Maya’s breast. Hot lust
shot straight to his groin at just the sight of a full ivory breast.

This was ridiculous. He’d seen women’s breasts
before. He wasn’t a frigging adolescent. This had to be some possessive
caveman reaction to the idea of acquiring a wife. But as Maya removed the
infant and he caught a glimpse of an engorged nipple, he grew harder than a
piling rod. Nervously, Axell dropped back to the chair and hid his lap with a
Dr. Spock baby book from her nightstand.

In his experience, a good offense beat a tardy defense every
time. Marrying Maya was the best thing for the children. Period. That was
enough to make the decision imperative. But their marriage would also force the
mayor to realize his dirty tricks wouldn’t drive Maya back to California,
so he could let up on the building inspections and liquor licenses and whatever
other cards he had up his sleeve until he found another outlet. Axell could
almost swear there would be an investigation into the day school’s
license by now. After they were married, if the school lost its license, he
wouldn’t have to worry about Constance losing Maya.

And with a wife by his side, he’d be more appealing to
voters come election time. He was uncertain of Maya as a political wife, but
the mayor’s job in a small town like Wadeville wasn’t precisely as
demanding as a governor’s. If she stuck to taking care of the kids, he
could keep the rest of his life in order.

He’d just have to learn to live with kites flying from
his roof and cats in his kitchen and whatever else she demanded. He
hadn’t really given much thought to that aspect of marriage. He’d
been working on the assumption that she’d slip quietly into the empty
places in his life as she had thus far. He supposed he could get used to Aretha
Franklin roaring through the house.

As Alexa burped contentedly on her mother’s shoulder,
Axell decided he could manage the material disruptions. He spent most of his
time at the office anyway.

He took the infant from Maya and admired her sleepy,
wrinkled features. “She doesn’t look like she has a temper.”

“Give her time. She’ll grow into it.” She
looked at him quizzically. “Don’t you have to be at the office or
something?”

“Not until we get this settled.” He tucked Alexa
into her cradle. “You’re ignoring my offer.”

She regarded him warily. “You’re offering me
more than I have ever dreamed of, in return for what? A mother for Constance?
You could go to the bar on Friday night and choose any woman you like. Why
me?”

Startled, Axell raised his eyebrows. “I haven’t
noticed women falling all over me,” he countered. “And I doubt that
any of my acquaintances have your credentials for dealing with children.
I’ve watched you at work. You know what you’re doing. I’m not
walking into this blindly.”

She shook her head and leaned back into the pillows.
“You’re going to wear me down over this, aren’t you? Why
don’t you give me a few days around here and see if you don’t
change your mind? Admittedly, I’m not up to my usual standards right now,
but I think even my brand of low-grade chaos will drive you screaming for the
doors.”

Axell relaxed a fraction. He had her hooked. He just needed
to reel her in. He cringed mentally at the fishing reference. He’d have
to remember he was lousy at fishing, and Maya was more intelligent than any
fish, but he would win, whatever the cost.

“If you’re feeling well enough, we can go down
to the courthouse for the license tomorrow.” With this suggestion, he
called the signals for a touchdown run. She didn’t stand a chance against
a planned offensive, and he played with a home field advantage.

“It will take a few days to meet the requirements and
line up the preacher’s time...” Axell glanced at her speculatively.
“Constance and I attend church on Sundays. Will that be a problem for
you?”

Maya grimaced and tugged at the purple strand of her hair.
“And I thought I was the insane one around here.”

Axell held his breath, but she fell for his setup.

She shrugged. “Matty and I haven’t gone because
we have no clothes and no transportation. Church isn’t a problem.
Don’t sweat the small stuff. It’s the big stuff that worries me.
Isn’t a license a little premature?”

“A license isn’t a permanent thing. We can
always tear it up.”

She looked doubtful but didn’t argue, as usual.

With the knowledge that he had her trapped, relief flowed
through Axell’s veins. In celebratory triumph, he leaned over and kissed
Maya’s worried frown. It felt so right, he let adrenaline overrule
caution and transferred the kiss to her lips.

Mistake. Hot blood shot downward so fast his brain bubbled
air and all intelligence fled. Taking advantage of the easy access supplied by
her surprised intake of breath, Axell indulged in the orange-juice sweetness of
Maya’s mouth. When her tongue hesitantly caressed his, Axell nearly
tumbled into the bed with her. Lust had damned well never steered his course
before. Not in years, anyway.

Light-headed, he shoved his hands against the pillow and
reluctantly peeled his mouth from hers. He wanted another sample. He
didn’t have that right yet.

Propping himself up with one hand, Axell brushed the wayward
strand of purple from her forehead and watched Maya warily. She seemed more
bemused than affronted as she stared back at him.

“I’m sorry, I...” Axell halted his
automatic apology when Maya’s lips quirked upward and her eyes crinkled
in the corners. She had the most damnable way of laughing at him. “I take
that back. I’m not sorry in the least,” he said dryly. “And I
don’t think I’m ready to hear your comments either.”

“You definitely haven’t lost your Prince
Charming status yet,” she admitted. “I’ve been feeling like
one of those bedraggled mice Muldoon presents for my approval. Treating me like
Cinderella isn’t hurting your cause at all.”

Axell nodded, afraid to admit his overwhelming relief. The
next few months would be pure torture, but if she accepted his proposal, he
could exist on those amazing kisses for a while. He needed another, just to
prove it hadn’t been a fluke, but he knew better than to press his luck.

“Just don’t paint any fairy tales in your
head,” he warned, pushing himself upright and out of reach of temptation.
“I’m no good at flowers and romantic dinners. I spend twelve- and
fourteen-hour days at the restaurant. This is no picnic we’re embarking
on.”

The warning helped. As Maya watched Axell stride out, once
more the assertive businessman, she understood her place in this
“relationship” a little better. She really and truly would be his
live-in convenience, someone to keep the children’s schedules organized,
to keep his personal life in order, to give him sex on demand. She had a
sneaking suspicion she might manage that last, but she already knew she’d
be a failure at the rest. Organization was not one of her stronger qualities.

With a tear in her eye from the devastating tenderness of
his kiss, she wondered if one out of three would count, because he was offering
almost everything she had ever dreamed of, and she had a hard time not
believing in her dreams.

Okay, who stopped payment on my reality check?

Curled in a corner of the family room sofa, wrapped in a
cotton throw cover, Maya fashioned a sleek version of a paper jet out of
construction paper while Matty bounced in the chair on the far end of the room
and flung her last model with appropriate roaring noises.

Constance preferred the more sedate pastime of rubbing
balloons on her sweater to create static electricity and hanging them above the
cradle so Alexa could admire them. Maya didn’t think the infant cared one
way or another at this point, but blowing up the balloons kept Constance
happily occupied, and her balloon design on the wall was quite artistic.

Unfortunately, the balloons had captured Muldoon’s
interest, and he had staked out a place on the floor where he could wait for
them to fall. He’d already dug his nails into one, surprising the cat as
much as Constance.

Alexa, bless her little heart, slept right through the
speakers blaring the sound track from
Pocahontas
. Maya figured the child
had to learn to cope with noise if she was spending her days at the school
after this week, and if babes in the womb could bond with a mother’s
voice, then she’d probably bonded with the blare of speakers and screams
of children by now, too.

Maya could easily adapt to the illusion that this was really
her home, that she could relax in the security of not worrying where the next
meal would come from, and that all she had to do was make certain the children
were happy and well loved. She didn’t often have the luxury of living a
dream, so she indulged herself with these few hours of true bliss. Without the
fairy dust of magical kisses, the illusion would wear off soon enough.

With surprise, she heard the garage door opening. After his
comment about twelve-hour days, she really hadn’t expected Axell to
return before she had the children in bed. She hadn’t deliberately
planned to spring her guerrilla warfare on him so soon, but he might as well
have a taste of it now that he was here.

Carefully folding the last crease into her paper jet, Maya
flung it in Matty’s direction just as Axell walked through the door
wearing his raincoat and juggling a pizza box and briefcase. It was only sheer coincidence
and an amazing amount of her brand of luck that the jet ricocheted off
Axell’s nose and plummeted toward the balloon-covered wall. Muldoon
yowled and struck as two of the balloons bounced in front of him.

Constance cried out and raced to save her creation, Alexa
screamed in startlement at the sudden noise, and Matty — apparently needing equal
attention — fell off the chair. Axell threw Maya what she could only deem a wry
and accepting look as he dropped the briefcase to save the teetering pizza from
his startled stumble.

“I don’t believe for a minute you’re
capable of planning this,” he stated stoically as he set the box on a
table, helped Matty from the floor, and leaned over to kiss Constance on the
head as she babbled about her balloons.

Maya stifled a sharp spike of longing as she watched this
handsome, elegant man awkwardly patting a sniveling five-year-old on the back,
then leaping to retrieve popped balloons from the cat. The man had promise,
she’d grant him that, and she shivered a little at the niggling image of
all that single-minded determination focused on her.

“Nah,” she responded inelegantly, dismissing
that stray thought. “If I’d
planned
chaos, Matty would be
quietly coloring at the table, Constance would be reading in her room, and Alexa
would be sound asleep. I gave up on planning long ago.” Maya nodded at
the pizza. “I do, however, know how to cook a nutritional meal. I started
with something easy, but they’ll never eat it now.”