Impossible Dreams (34 page)

Without any warning, Axell caught her waist and dropped her
on the bed, falling down on top of her so that his knees splayed her thighs
wide. “Were the garters for my benefit?” he whispered as he nibbled
her ear.

Yeah, they were, but she didn’t think she’d
inflate his ego further by admitting it. “I just thought I’d make
things easier, in case you’d forgotten how,” she teased.

“The basic principles don’t seem to have changed
any.” He teased her breast into a pucker and kissed her until time stood
still. Then, lifting his head, he finished thoughtfully, “It goes in like
this, right?”

Maya squealed as Axell drove home with a thrust so powerful
it lifted her from the bed.

Amazingly perceptive was this business-suit husband of hers,
she reflected wryly in those few seconds left in which she could think at all.
It went in just like that.

***

He breathed the heady aroma of roses. Air-conditioning
cooled his backside, but the warmth of summer snuggled against his morning
arousal. How long had it been since he’d held a woman in his arms when he
woke? Not even Angela...

He didn’t need to take that path. For the first time
in his life, he held a woman who caused him to forget the bar and all the
demands of his day. He didn’t want to just make love to her, although the
physical pressure to do so was strong. But the urge to see Maya’s eyes
when she woke was stronger. He wanted to watch her wakening interest, hear the
humor in her voice, longed to see the affection...

Hell, he wanted a lot more than the same affection she gave
to her students, but he wouldn’t dwell on that now either. Maya’s
generous nature encompassed one and all. He just happened to be the lucky
recipient of her physical favors too. That’s all he’d wanted when
they entered into this arrangement, wasn’t it? He had no right to demand
more.

Axell cupped his hand around a full, firm breast. He’d
take his pleasure where he found it, and he found it in the warm curve of
buttocks pressed against his arousal, and the enticing moan his caress elicited
from the woman snuggling into his arms. His woman. He really, really liked the
idea of this wonderfully imaginative, inherently passionate woman belonging to
him, alone. If that was disgustingly prehistoric, then so be it.

“Do you like mornings?” He leaned over her,
admiring the tousled spill of colorful hair across the pillow. He pulled the
purple strand, discovered gray at its roots, and smiled as he realized Maya
didn’t believe in dyeing her hair in any normal manner.

“I do now,” she murmured sleepily. “No
one’s pounding on the door?”

“Not yet.” Even as he said it, Axell heard his
namesake cooing in her cradle and a pair of feet hit the floor running in the
room next door. “I don’t suppose even a quickie—”

Small fists thrashed the door. “Maya! Maya! It’s
late. Wake up. Why is Matty sleeping in front of your door? We gotta get to
school.”

“You’ve taught her to murder the English
language,” Axell complained as he pulled his aching loins away from
temptation. Self-denial did not improve his humor.

“Constance can speak properly when she likes. Slang
just means she’s comfortable with us.” Maya groped under her pillow
and produced a long purple football jersey.

“If comfortable equates lazy,” he grumbled.

The sudden silence on the other side of the door seemed
ominous. Axell grabbed his clothes.

“Did I hear Daddy?” a timid voice squeaked.

“Now we’re in for it,” Maya said
cheerfully, wriggling into the jersey. “You may be sorry she’s
talking again.”

“Women and children should be seen and not
heard.” He jerked on his trousers. Only Maya’s admiring glance over
her shoulder restored some of his humor. Maybe she was right. Maybe he
didn’t notice women when they looked at him. He sure as hell noticed when
Maya did it though. It made him wish his pants weren’t so damned tight.

Assured that he was at least decent, Maya opened the bedroom
door to a silent Matty sucking his thumb and a wary Constance. “All
right, I’m running late,” she admitted. “Why don’t the
two of you fix cereal? I’ll be out to help in a few minutes.”

Axell could see Constance straining to peer past Maya as he
pulled on his shirt, and dread filled his soul. He didn’t know how to
handle these awkward situations.

“Did Daddy sleep with you?” Constance asked,
half-accusingly.

“That’s what daddies and mommies do. Now hurry
up. Alexa will be hollering for her bottle soon. You can pour your milk,
can’t you?”

Not entirely accepting this new arrangement, the kids
reluctantly reacted to the command in Maya’s voice. Some people talked to
animals. Maya spoke to kids. By the time Constance and Matty hit the kitchen,
Axell could hear their giggles.

He looked at her wonderingly and with definite admiration.
The jersey emphasized all the right curves and almost matched her purple streak
as she turned around. “I can see why you teach school.”

And he could. All this time, he’d thought her teacher
act was just something she did for the money because she couldn’t do
anything else. He’d known the kids liked her, that the school was clean
and decent and had the kind of teacher/student ratio he preferred for
Constance. Other than that, he’d thought the school a duplicate of every
other school of its kind. He was just beginning to grasp what the kids
understood instinctively: that with Maya on board, the Impossible Dream was
unique.

He didn’t want it to be that way. He wanted the school
to be dispensable. He wanted Maya for Constance. He didn’t care about the
other kids.

But Maya did. Maya cared for those kids as much as she cared
for her own.

Someone may have murdered for that school. He didn’t
want Maya or the kids in their path. How the hell would he talk her into
closing?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Maya slid
her arms around his waist and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

Groaning, he kissed her back, then firmly set her away.
“There’s only so much denial I can handle in one day. And I was
looking to see if you wore wings and a halo or sported a magic wand. How do you
do that?”

“What?” she teased, slipping her hand beneath
his unbuttoned shirt and teasing at the curl of hair above his waistband.
“You don’t know how sex works?”

“Not with two kids and a whimpering infant
underfoot,” he said dryly, removing her hand from temptation. “I
think I’ll hire a nanny.”

She snickered and headed for the shower. “You had
three of them here last night. Just let me know when you want your peace
back.”

An icy breeze washed over Axell as the bathroom door closed
between them. She was still thinking of their marriage as a temporary
arrangement that would end the minute he tired of it.

She still kept her teacups packed in a box at the school,
ready to move at a moment’s notice. Maya didn’t know the meaning of
permanence, didn’t share his ability to ride out life’s storms.

The druggies in his restaurant last night were probably the
opening volley of the mayor’s new war against his license. What would
happen to their marriage if he was forced to trade Maya’s school to
protect their livelihood — and maybe even his family’s safety?

I tried sniffing Coke once, but the ice kept bumping my nose.

The chimes tinkled as Maya entered The Curiosity Shoppe. It
wasn’t her store anymore, but she needed to clue Cleo in on some of the
changes she’d made at the instigation of Axell and Selene. She was rather
proud that the place was finally making a small profit. She prayed Cleo would
appreciate what they’d done. Her big sister was the only real
“home” she’d known growing up. She wanted that connection
back — another impossible dream, she supposed.

“What are you doing here?” a raspy voice asked
from the dark interior. “Isn’t it enough you’ve got my kid,
you want my store too?”

Well, so much for prayer. Maya was beginning to remember why
she and Cleo hadn’t parted on the best of terms. “You wanted me to
leave Matty with Social Services?”

She probably ought to just turn around and leave. She
didn’t have the stamina for Cleo’s anger this morning. Axell had
left her limp and so confused she didn’t know whether she was coming or
going. She had to be doing one or the other. She’d never stayed still in
her life.

“That’s not what that legal paper you sent was
all about. You want my kid.” Cleo emerged from the back of the shop,
coffee cup in hand. She looked as if she hadn’t slept all night. Her
short hair stood on end, and her T-shirt looked as if she’d wrung it out
and put it on wet. She was so thin, the shirt outlined her rib cage.

Maya searched for some sign of drugs, but Cleo’s eyes
were clear and snapping. “That’s a legal maneuver. Axell’s
lawyer says if we have guardianship, then Social Services can’t do
anything if we let you take care of Matty as much as you like. Otherwise, you
can’t have Matty until the social worker says you can.”

“Where’s my teapot?” Cleo reached for her
pockets as if hunting for a cigarette, cursed, then shoved her hands in her
jeans waistband.

Maya didn’t need an explanation. Cleo had always
smoked, for as long as she could remember. Cutting out cigarettes and drugs
both must be driving her crazy. “It’s at the school. We almost lost
everything when the other building collapsed, so I packed it up and stored it
somewhere safe. I’ll get it for you.”

Cleo dropped into the wicker chair and curled her legs under
her, not looking at Maya. “I want my life back. You’ve got my kid,
my store, my damned teapot. Hell, you’ve got my town. You married
Wadeville’s golden boy. What am I supposed to do, crawl off in a hole
somewhere and let you have it all?”

This was the point where Maya was supposed to slink off into
the sunset and let everyone do their own thing. She didn’t have answers.
Never had. But she’d made some decisions that got in her this position,
and she didn’t see any immediate way out.

Maya dropped into the other chair. “Why did you move
to Wadeville?” Maya kicked herself, but the question was out there and
she couldn’t think of a better one.

Cleo shrugged and rested her head against the high back of
the chair. “When I left the Creep, I had to go somewhere. I thought maybe
I could make it in our hometown, find our roots. I should have known
better.”

The Creep, Cleo’s husband, the one who’d hooked
her on drugs. Maya knew all that from garbled phone conversations over the
years. But the Creep hadn’t been in Wadeville. Whatever Cleo had done
here, she had done to herself.

“I kind of like it here.” Maya was surprised to
hear herself say that. She didn’t like places. They changed too often.
But she’d had her first opportunity of building her dream here. The
people of Wadeville had offered her more opportunities than anywhere else.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could be a real family, raise our kids
in a real town?” she asked with a tinge of hope.

“It ain’t gonna happen.” Cleo said
callously. “I can’t keep this place running. The only job I qualify
for is waitressing. The rent around here is too expensive to live on tips. Old
Man Pfeiffer cut me a break on the other building, but I’m not living off
your husband’s charity.”

“Pfeiffer? Mr. Pfeiffer owned the other building? I
paid the rent to some corporation.” There was a topic she could sink her
teeth into without disturbing old arguments.

“Yeah, but he must have owned it. I think the old goat
owns all kinds of stuff around here. He says he’s our grandfather,
isn’t that a hoot? He has more relatives than Adam has apples, owns half
these doddering buildings, and he wants to own us too.”

“Grandfather?” Maya couldn’t take that in.
They had aunts and uncles and cousins all over creation, she knew that. But the
blood between them had been damned thin. She didn’t remember any
grandfathers. He’d said he knew their grandmother. Did that fit?

“He’s dead, you know,” Maya continued.
“He owned the property the school is on, and now Axell says the court
will sell it since he didn’t leave a will.”

Cleo’s head shot up. “Dead? Well, shit, that
cinches it. He gave me some cock-and-bull story about how he’d met our
grandmother before he married, but he didn’t do right by her and he was
going to make it all up to us now that his wife was gone and he could admit
what he’d done. I figured the old goat was just lonely and wanted someone
to talk to. He has nieces and nephews and cousins who never visited unless they
wanted something. I kinda felt sorry for him.”

“So did I, but he definitely had a muddy aura. Maybe
that’s why he gave us such a good deal on the school. We could never have
afforded it without his help.” Maya dug her fingers into her hair and
tried to sort it all out, but she didn’t have much confidence in ancient
history — although with the names their mother had given them, she supposed she
should at least show some interest.

“Muddy aura.” Cleo snorted. “You’re
as crazy as I am.” She shifted uncomfortably. “But he wasn’t
above muddy deals. It’s probably good that he’s gone.” She
sank into glum thought.

Maya didn’t want to hear about muddy deals. She
didn’t want to know what Cleo had done in her former life. But for
Matty’s sake, she had to know. “He didn’t get you mixed up in
anything, did he?”

Cleo spiked her hair worse than it was. “Anything I
did, I did to myself. Pfeiffer might have blamed himself, but it wasn’t
his fault.”

“Cleo?” Maya asked uncertainly when she
didn’t continue.

Cleo sighed. “He let some slimeballs use some of his
old buildings. I know dealers when I see them. When things got bad, I sought
them out, not vice versa. But if Pfeiffer’s gone, they’ll have
moved on. You don’t have to worry. I’m clean, and I’m staying
that way.”