Taking on Twins (10 page)

“I found the brat.”

Patsy froze. She touched her tongue to her lips. “You found Emily?”

“Yup. I was right about her heading for Wyoming. Finding her trail was a pain in the—”

“You found her. That's all that matters.” Patsy glanced over her shoulder, feeling paranoid. Joe had a way of popping in at the least opportune times these days.

“Yeah, I found her, but I'm gonna need some more cash.”

“You'll get what you deserve and not a penny more when the job is complete,” Patsy hissed. “When are you going to do it?”

“Soon. I gotta follow her home from work tomorrow and figure out where she lives.”

A slow smile of satisfaction crept across Patsy's lips. Soon, at least half of her worries would be over. “Where is she?”

“Wire me some money and I'll tell you.”

Patsy's eyes narrowed. “I don't like to be jacked around, Mr. Pike.”

“Neither do I. I have business expenses. You want the job done? Pay up.”

As if it were Snake Eyes's hairy throat, Patsy clutched the phone until her knuckles glowed white. “Where?”

“Some little backwater called Keyhole. There's a Wyoming Federal Savings and Loan on Main Street. I opened an account in Cheyenne last month.”

Without the usual pleasantries, Patsy ended the call. She hated blackmail. Unless, that is, she was the one doing it. No matter. Her luck was changing.

The police seemed to have stopped looking at her as a suspect in Joe's murder attempt and Graham had been making regular deposits into her Swiss bank account.

And soon Emily would be dead.

 

The following evening, as she was flipping over the Closed sign in her window, Annie spotted Wyatt coming down the street. Just as he'd promised. Just as she'd known he would.

Her stomach jumped as violently as it had when she was first pregnant with the boys. She pressed her hand to her breastbone in a feeble attempt to still her furious heartbeat. Behind her was the cashier's counter and she clutched it for balance, feeling light headed, faint. Emotions warred within as she was at the same time anticipating and dreading his arrival. For as much as Annie longed to toss caution to the wind and throw herself into the past, she couldn't.

Last night, after much soul-searching, she'd decided to beg off of her dinner with Wyatt tonight. Spending time with him this way simply wasn't healthy. If one little dinner and a tiny good-night peck could have her heart in such an uproar, what would another day do to her? She couldn't take that risk. She was far too vulnerable. Especially where he was concerned. Besides, there were her boys to consider now.

As she stood hyperventilating and panicking over exactly what to say, the door to her store swung open. There stood Wyatt, just as confident and sexy as ever. Her fierce resolve to send him packing took a hit.

“Hi,” she breathed, assaulted by the physical attraction to him that had never truly gone away. She hadn't slept a moment last night, for reliving that ephemeral kiss.

“Hi.”

His grin, reminding her of the audacious teenager she once fancied she'd spend her life with, bloomed. A part of her longed to rush to him and throw her arms around his neck for a kiss. The way she used to.

No!

With a slight shake of her head, Annie took a deep breath, then pushed off the counter to stand on her own two feet.

No, no, no. This was ridiculous. She could not let ancient history interfere with her well laid plans for the future. She could resist him. She'd done it before. She'd do it now.

From the back room, Alex and Noah could be heard laughing and arguing over the electronic sounds of a video game. Chopper barked.

Wyatt's eyes shifted to the rear of the store, then back to her face. “Shall we drop the kids off at your mother's before we go?”

“Go?”

“We're going out to dinner, remember? I won't keep you out late, if that's a problem.”

“Oh, no. It's not that. It's just that I…”
Can't be in the same room with you and remember my own name, let alone why we shouldn't be spending time together.
She swallowed, her mind racing, searching for the wording to the careful speech she'd rehearsed all day. “I, uh, I have some work to do.” That was not it. Annie frowned. That was not the speech. The speech was something about their diverse futures and lifestyle choices and…

“Work?” Brow knit, he glanced around.

“I, well, I have some, er, stuff to do.”

“What stuff?”

“Oh, a whole bunch of…you know, stuff. Some book work and uh, some furniture rearranging, and, um—”

“You're going to move furniture? By yourself?”

Bristling, Annie planted her hands on her hips. “I always do. I'm a lot tougher than I look.” This was partly true. She'd been known to slide a piece here and tug a piece there. But she also had a crew of movers that came in once
a week to unpack new arrivals and carton up the pieces that had sold.

His eyes held a spark of humor. “That you are a tough cookie, I don't doubt in the least. But still, you shouldn't be dragging this stuff around by yourself. It's a good way to end up in the hospital.” As he spoke, Wyatt unbuttoned the cuff of a sleeve and began to roll it to the bulge of his biceps. An impressive muscle. Did he still spend his mornings in the gym? “I'll give you a hand. What needs moving?”

“I, uh—” Annie dragged her gaze back up to his face. “You don't have to do that! Honestly, I am perfectly capable of doing it myself. Really. Go.” Go! Please! Go, go go. She wanted to jump up and down and scream. He had to go. She couldn't deal with the havoc his presence created in her heart. She waved him toward the door. “Have dinner. Eat. You must be starving.”

He lifted one lazy brow and stared right through to her soul. “No more so than you.”

“Oh. Well, no, I ate a late lunch…” Annie's voice dwindled. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn't talking food here. The rakish look and the sinful curl to his lip told her that much.

“C'mon, Annie. I couldn't eat a bite knowing you were here, most likely lying under some armoire or another. Go ahead. Put me to work.”

Annie exhaled heavily, knowing her plan had backfired big time. He stood there like Excalibur wedged in the stone, immovable, stubborn, waiting for direction. Now she had to trump up some phony work for them to do.

Although…as she glanced around her cluttered store, she realized that she had been meaning to do a bit of rearranging for quite some time, but had just never got around to it. The aisles were far too crowded and virtually impossible
for a wheelchair to maneuver. And some of the pieces against the far wall hadn't seen a dust cloth in months.

“Okay. I guess we can move some of the bigger—”

From the back room, the sound of Alex's precocious voice rent the silence. “Hey! Noah! The space bogey man is here!” His gleeful shriek drew his brother and soon Wyatt was fending off two copper-topped whirlwinds. A happily bobbing boy tucked under each arm, Wyatt loped around the lobby and then trotted up and down the wider aisles.

“Space monster need food!” he growled. “Have little boys for dinner!”

Tail wagging, Chopper jumped into the fray, barking and frolicking with the boys.

The twins' hysterical giggles created a bubbly smile that started in her stomach and rose to settle upon her lips. Her boys so needed a man's influence. A man's attention. His play. His rough-and-tumble touch and teasing. They seemed to revel in his presence.

The way she did.

She twisted a ringlet around her finger and watched them enter a male world to which she was not privy. And, as much as she tried to be there for her boys, to make up games and wrestle with them, it obviously wasn't the same. They needed a father figure.

Even knowing this—and try as she might—she still could not grieve for Carl.

“Hey, you monster types!” Annie shouted above the hubbub. “I'm going next door to order some takeout.”

They did not pause in their hilarity to respond. Wyatt had Noah sprawled out on a couch and was tickling him, while fending off an attack from Alex on his back. “Arrrrgg!” he hollered, flipping Alex over and onto the
couch next to his brother. Undaunted, they sprang up and were crawling over him within moments.

“Auggh!” Alex howled. “You have really big teeth, bogey man!”

“The better to gobble you up with!” Wyatt peeled the giggling boys off his torso and tossed them back against the springy cushions of the old couch.

Noah laughed so hard, Annie feared he might be sick. “No!” he panted, “you're not gonna get me!”

Annie squeezed her eyes closed and solemnly echoed this vow as she backed toward the shop's front door.

T
he wrappings from their dinner of roast beef sandwiches, chips and giant dill pickles were crumpled and strewn about the top of a turn-of-the-century, drop-leaf table. Around the room, furniture had been dusted, polished, vacuumed and stacked and pushed into a much more user-friendly arrangement, pleasing to the eye as well as more easily accessible.

Noah and Alex were sawing logs on the couch, exhausted from chasing Wyatt around the store. Bellies full, they sprawled like lanky puppies around Chopper dreaming of nails and snails and space monster tales.

Wyatt stood in the middle of the store, hands on his lower back, arching and stretching and regarding Annie with a leery eye. “What now?”

“Well, uh, actually, that china cabinet should be over here, with the matching table and chairs.”

She ignored his grimace. Afraid of being alone with him, Annie kept Wyatt moving furniture more as a reason to
keep him busy, than any real need to continue organizing. When they were alone, she lost her ability to reason.

“That china cabinet? The huge one?” He plunged his hands through his hair. “The one loaded with all those little breakable frou-frou knickknacks?”

“Those ‘knickknacks' are very valuable. I'll get you a box so that you can pack them up.”

“Oh, wow, thanks.” His sarcasm lacked bite. Opening his mouth wide, Wyatt yawned and ran a hand over his face.

“Am I keeping you up?”

“Actually, I could use a little kiss as incentive.” He pointed to his cheek. “Right about here.”

Annie laughed. “I fell for that old trick once. But I'm older and wiser now.”

“And cuter.” His brow see-sawed dramatically. “And more voluptuous…”

“Get back to work.” She laughed and backed away, knowing that she had to keep her distance or live to regret it.

“Still just as bossy,” he grumped as she skipped out of the room.

Annie found an empty box and some packing material in the back room and brought it to Wyatt. Immediately, he reached for the bubble wrap and began popping the air pockets.

“I love this stuff! This is what I want for Christmas, if you're taking notes on these things.”

“You're still such a child. Give me that, before you wake the kids up.” She reached for the bubble wrap, but he held it over his head, snap-crackle-popping, a Zen-like grin gracing his lips.

“No way. I haven't had this much fun in ages.”
Pop. Snap. Crack.
“Besides, I bet the boys would like it too.”

“They do! That's why this piece is all I have left.” She jumped up, but again, he snatched it away. Much to her chagrin, she found herself laughing. “You're mashing it all up! It doesn't work when it's flat. Wyatt Russell, give me that stuff. Now!”

“Make me.”
Pop. Crack.
His grin broadened.

“Wyatt!”

“Wha-aat?” he sang and jogged backward a few steps.

Annie crossed her arms over her chest. “Get over here now, buddy!”

“Ooo, I love it when you're masterful.”
Snap. Pop.

Giddy mirth rose in her throat as he turned and bolted. “Wyatt, we don't have time for this. We have work to do.”

He darted around a corner and headed down the armoire aisle.
Pop. Pop, pop.
Unable to resist, she headed after him. They dodged and weaved, laughing and grunting and leaping over settees and other small antiques. Annie puffed, trying to keep up with his lanky stride. Wyatt ducked around a corner and then stopped and hid. When Annie came shooting after him, he leaped out and grabbed her. She squealed and he covered her mouth with his hand.

“Shhh!” Chest heaving, he pulled her into his arms. His laughter was hot in her ears. “You're going to wake the kids.”

“Oh, yeah. Like I'm the one making all the noise!” She reached around his back and snatched the bubble wrap from his hand.

“Give me that!”

“No! Never!” She wriggled, struggling to free herself from his embrace.

“Never?” He tightened his hold.

She giggled, feeling limp. Lazy. Giddy. Happy. Sexy. All for the first time in far too many years. “Never!”

“Even if I threaten to kiss you?”

“Even then!”

“Is that an invitation to kiss you?”

“You are still such an egomaniac!”

“But I'm cute, right?”

He buried his nose in the hollow where her shoulder joined her neck and delightful gooseflesh darted like lightning down one side of her body.

“Yes,” she gasped. “You're still cute. Even in middle age.”

“What?”
He reared back and growled. “I'll show you middle age.” Gathering her to him, he attacked her neck, nipping and biting and kissing, his tongue burning a warm, wet path to her jaw. Her head dropped back and she could fairly hear the electricity snapping between them.

Or was that the bubble wrap she was clutching for dear life?

“I see you two are hard at work.”

Annie and Wyatt leapt apart, their heads jerking toward the sound. Neither of them had heard Emily come in. Annie knew that Wyatt's sheepish smile mirrored her own.

Brow arched in curiosity, Emily closed the door behind her and moved into the store.

“Hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

“No!” Annie flushed. “Not at all. We were just…well, we were—”

“Making sure the bubble wrap wasn't flat after all this time,” Wyatt offered, a rakish note in his voice. “Luckily, even after a lot of fondling, it's not a bit flat.”

“Would you just shut up,” Annie muttered and jabbed him in the side with her elbow.

“Well, good.” Emily smiled and held up the Thermos she'd carried over from the restaurant. “I brought coffee. Figured you could use a…er—” they all stared at each
other for an uncomfortable moment “—break.” She twittered.

They all laughed and the tension left.

“A break sounds heavenly. This woman has been working me like a slave.”

Emily snorted. “Yeah. I see that.”

“Hey. Keeping her in line is hard work.” Wyatt made a face at Annie.

“Me? Don't you have a china cabinet to move?”

“See what I mean?” He didn't budge.

“So,” Emily chirped as she set about finding cups and coffee accoutrements. “Wyatt tells me that you two knew each other in college.”

Annie lifted her hands in a noncommittal gesture. “We were acquainted, yes.”

Wyatt shot her a droll look. “Yeah. We worked together.” His smirk said there was more to it than that.

“Wow.” Emily poured them each a mug of steamy, fresh java. “What a small world. All this time I know you Annie, and I had no idea that you went to school with dingbat.”

“Watch it, runt.” Wyatt ruffled her hair in the easygoing way that siblings do, and then, with a last wink at Annie, took his mug over to the china cabinet and set to packing her small glass pieces.

“I couldn't believe it either, when Wyatt told me you two were related. Keyhole is a far cry from Prosperino, no?”

“I love it. It's…home.”

“I think so, too.”

Wyatt glanced up at her, wearing an enigmatic expression that unsettled her. Why did she suddenly feel guilty? She shrugged off the feeling and pointed out what she and Wyatt had accomplished that evening.

As Annie wandered with Emily around the store, Emily complimented her on the new furniture placement and, as unobtrusively as possible, fished for information regarding her relationship with Wyatt.

Back turned to Wyatt, voice low, Emily probed without compunction. “Are you two an…item? Because, if you are, I need to know. I have to pay him back for years of teasing, no, no, no,
persecuting
me about every guy whose name I happen to mention in passing. It's so annoying. You'd understand, of course, knowing Wyatt as you do.”

Hand to jaw, Annie glanced over at Wyatt. Though he'd been pretending to mind his own business while muscling the china cabinet into place, he was clearly eavesdropping.

“I understand.” Amused, she bit her lower lip. “Actually, we're just old friends. Wyatt simply dropped by to say hello for old time's sake.”

At her hushed proclamation, Wyatt looked up, his lazy grin and seductive gaze challenging her words. She presented him with her back, for as much as Annie wanted to confide in Wyatt's sister, to bounce her theories about what he was up to off her, she was reticent to talk about it. With anyone. For by talking about it, the problem became real and Annie preferred to hide behind the safety of her denial.

So what if Wyatt was in Keyhole for a few days? The long-run ramifications were pretty much nil. When he blew back out of town, her boys would soon forget him and life would get back to normal. Once, of course, she recuperated from Cupid's open heart surgery. No telling how long that would take.

Expression puzzled, Emily glanced back and forth between them and finally gave up trying to worm any more information from Annie.

“How are you getting home?” Wyatt asked as Emily gathered her belongings and prepared to leave.

“Toby gets a dinner break soon and he's running me home.”

“Toby-the-tiger, huh?” Head waggling, Wyatt shot her a lopsided grin.

“See what I have to put up with?” Emily asked Annie.

“I know just how you feel.” Though Annie could commiserate, his teasing was one of the things Annie had most missed about Wyatt. Carl had never been much on teasing.

“Good night, you guys.” With a last, curious wave at the two of them, Emily disappeared into the night.

 

Snake Eyes twisted the brown paper bag away from the rim of his bottle and, tipping it back, took a hearty swig. The whiskey was cheap and gave him a virtual tonsillectomy as it seared its way down his throat, but he didn't care. A buzz was a buzz, and until he was paid another payment on his retainer, he'd just have to settle. He'd gone to the bank earlier today, but the teller told him that there had been no deposit activity on his account.

His rude snort stopped the late-night cricket's song for a moment. No deposit activity meant no Snake Eyes activity. He would just have to outwait that Colton broad. Eventually, she would pay.

One way or another.

He cursed the questionable parentage of a mosquito that had been buzzing in his ear, then slapped it dead, leaving a streak of blood across his cheek. Twigs crackled as he searched for a more comfortable position in the sticker-filled brush that surrounded the brat's rental.

But there was none.

Blackberry brambles and bugs and a bunch of wild animals—

Snake Eyes took another long pull on his bottle. Hazard
pay. He was gonna collect some of that, all right. He checked his watch. The brat should be home real soon now.

Earlier that day, after some covert questioning of several regulars at the greasy spoon where the brat worked, he felt he had a pretty good handle on her schedule. She worked the lunch rush, then, when things died down, she came home for an couple hours, then went back for the dinner shift. So, with nothing better to do with his time, Snake Eyes had followed Emily to her motel-style cottage after lunch. When she'd gone back to work, he'd let himself into her place, done some snooping, a little pilfering, a bit of snacking—unfortunately, she used that snooty brown mustard that he hated—and then craftily adjusted her bedroom curtains and blinds to afford the best view for that evening.

Now he sat in the thicket just off the driveway enjoying a pre-show cocktail, some of her crackers and a few chunks of some kind of stinky, fat-free goat cheese—
man,
how he detested fat-free cheese—and planning her demise.

Killing her was going to be one of his more attractive assignments. She had a great little body, that was for sure. Made his job a helluva lot more fun. The whiskey was beginning to warm his brain and fuzzy feelings toward little Emily began to fill his mind. She was a pistol, that one. He'd have to be on his toes the next time he got into the ring with her.

As he sat ruminating, headlights swung around the corner, flashing into Emily's driveway and briefly illuminating Snake Eyes's hiding place. He dove down into the blackberry thicket and was rewarded with multiple stab wounds to the bare flesh of his face, hands, arms and lower back.

Profanity rang out and next door, a dog began to yap.

Snake Eyes took an extra long swig of rotgut, this time for the pain. He was bleeding like a sprinkler. The sound
of car doors slamming reached him, then that canine rodent's high-pitched bark, then her soft voice.

“Rrrrrrr arrrp! Arrrrp! Arp, arp, arp!”

“Fifi! You be quiet!”

“Rrrrrrrr! Arp! Arp!”

“Fifi! Hush! You'll wake the whole neighborhood.”

Snake Eyes peered through the brush at the groomed and ribboned rat that someone had tethered to a small doghouse. It was sounding louder. Probably smelled his blood.

“ARP! ARP! ARP!”

“That's the neighbor's poodle. She must not recognize you.” Footsteps clip-clopped to her front door. “Thanks for the ride home, Toby. You really didn't have to do that.”

“Rrrrrrrr!”

“My pleasure.”

“GRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

“Fifi! Shush! You're giving poor Toby a complex. Toby, why don't you come in for a cup of coffee? I have lemon bars.”

Toby sounded eager. “Sure. I have time left on my break, you bet.” The front door clicked shut and the bolt lock followed as they moved inside.

Snake Eyes gritted his teeth and groaned deep in his throat. He loved lemon bars. Where the hell had she kept the lemon bars? After a bit of a tussle, he got out of the blackberry thicket and rolled to the edge of her driveway only to come face-to-face with the irate Fifi. Snake Eyes promptly dove back into the thicket, but it was too late. Fifi, swifter and sober, had the advantage of night vision and a fur coat.