Baker’s Law (8 page)

There were so many things she could do. The least of which was nothing and tell the
kids to skedaddle. One thing that played over and again in her head was the fact that
Hill had admittedly sneaked into the shop so many times and—other than the food—he
hadn’t taken a single thing. He could have cleaned out the money from the cash register.
Not that she kept more than a few dollars in the drawer when the store was closed.
Not to mention, there were any number of pawnable items in the shop and on her desk
and he’d never once filched anything. That should count for something. And while she
did want to help him out, she wasn’t ready to invite him to her small two-bedroom
townhome. Nor was she ready to thrust him upon a system that as of yet hadn’t even
noticed he needed help.

“If I say yes, there will be some strict ground rules.”

Lexi squealed at an ear-piercing decibel, then launched herself from the stool to
give Marissa a bone-crushing bear hug.

Hill dusted the crumbs from his fingers and wiped his mouth with the napkin.

Once Marissa peeled Lexi’s arms from around her shoulders, she ticked off her rules
one finger at a time. “This is temporary while I try to figure out what to do.” When
Lexi opened her mouth to comment, Marissa held up her hand. “Let me finish. You are
not to have anyone else in the shop after hours. And no one in the back at all.” She
shifted her gaze to Lexi for a moment then back to Hill. “If I find anything missing,
I immediately go to the chief. You can work after school on the weekdays and a few
hours on the weekends. We’ll set up a schedule for your hours.” She paused and neither
spoke. “Lastly, I’d like to see your report cards.” She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d
thrown that last stipulation out there. It seemed like a parental thing to do. It
was clear no one else was giving him guidance. “How does that sound?” She held out
her hand to him.

Hill stood. For a moment he hesitated then finally shook her hand. “Sounds pretty
good.”

* * *

Marissa flopped onto the sofa in her small house. It seemed like she’d spent less
and less time there in the eight months since she’d opened her shop. She took a long
sip of a much-needed glass of red wine—her typical Friday night. Not that she’d had
a typical week. So many things had happened it would take the entire weekend and several
bottles of wine to decompress and figure it all out. Then she groaned. She didn’t
have all weekend. First thing the next morning she was due to meet her sister, then
later that evening she’d promised to go with Cherry to the Blue Spur.

To top it all off, her weekend had already started off with a whimper. She’d waited
around the shop for an hour after close, thinking Jax might come back. He’d intimated
as much as he’d walked out. She’d even gone through three batches of cupcakes trying
to perfect the maple bacon she’d told him about earlier in the week.

By nine o’clock, though, she’d decided to call it a night and left. Left a teenage
boy to sleep in her office after he’d gathered his meager belongings from the bridge
and returned to clean up the back as his part of the bargain. She’d even given him
a spare key for the back door after she’d made a point to say that she’d be in by
eight the next morning to get the shop ready for the day. She hadn’t meant it so much
as a warning, just as a way to let him know business would go on as usual.

If—when—if he remained, on school mornings he’d be leaving just as she would arrive.
He could start out the morning unafraid, and she’d see to it that he wasn’t hungry.
Then school would let out at four. She wasn’t going to give him a curfew per se. Anyone
who slept under a bridge had enough responsibility—not to mention the much-desired
shelter—to get in at a decent time. If he kept up his end of the bargain for a week,
she’d give him a small paycheck. And then try to figure out her next step.

Not that she had even the slightest idea of what that might be. Maybe she was crazy
to even agree to it. Hell, he could wipe out her entire kitchen—which thankfully,
was covered by insurance. Something in her gut, though, told her he’d hold up his
end. He had determination in his eyes despite the slump of his shoulders. Really,
he reminded her a lot of her dad.

Thinking of her dad and the fiasco at the club years ago, she tried to call her sister
so she could weasel out of her morning meeting. When she’d come in from work, there’d
been a message on her machine telling her she needed to be there bright and early
at seven. Every time she called, though, she’d just get Marlie’s voice mail. Marissa’d
have no choice but to go up to the country club in the morning—which was probably
why her sister wasn’t answering. It would be the first time she’d been back there
since she and her father had picked up their last paychecks, minus the damage fee
for the towels.

A heavy knock at the door stopped her before she could travel very far down the self-pity
lane. With her wine in hand, she opened the door. Jax was the absolute last person
she’d expected to see standing on her welcome mat. “What are you… How did you…” When
she finished stammering, she took a long sip of her wine. “Jax.”

“Marissa.” A smile quirked up the corner of his mouth. He was out of uniform wearing
a pair of jeans and a light blue T-shirt. His hair was wet on the ends as if he’d
taken a shower before he came over. “May I come in?”

Marissa moved aside from the door and motioned him in with her wine glass. After she
shut the door, she downed the remainder of her wine. “Please, have a seat. Can I get
you some wine?” She scooted around him and moved into her small kitchen.

“Sure. Thanks.” Jax didn’t sit, only stood rooted in her living room.

She eyed him over the half-wall that separated the two rooms as she got down another
glass. Her home wasn’t tiny—the two-story, two-bedroom, one-bath townhome was old
but in good shape, with the living room and kitchen taking up the whole bottom floor.
But Jax’s tall, muscular frame shrunk the room almost in half.

She turned her back to the opening, poured a drink-full, downed it, then filled both
glasses. He was standing in the same spot when she handed him his wine. “So…long day
at the office?” Marissa didn’t wait for him to sit, but sat and curled her feet under
her at the end of the sofa.

He could stand and be unsociable, but she might as well get comfortable. After a long
minute, Jax sat at the opposite end. He kept his gaze riveted to his wine. “There
was a six-car pileup on Highway Nine. The county sheriff needed a little extra manpower
so my office was busy all afternoon and into the evening.” He lifted his gaze. “No
fatalities.”

Marissa released a pent-up breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “That’s good.”

Jax took a sip of the wine then narrowed his eyes at her. “So that was the boy who
broke into your shop, wasn’t it?”

“I, uh, I…” Marissa tried to hold his gaze but couldn’t as the lie rolled off her
tongue. “He’s my stock boy and it was just a misunderstanding. I’m so embarrassed
to have called you out so late at night for that.”

* * *

“A misunderstanding. Huh.” Why would she lie to him? And there was no doubt that he
was the young man was who’d broken in. To her shop at least. Why would she protect
him? And why had he felt compelled, after the long, hard day he’d had, to run up to
the office, look up her address and show up unannounced on her doorstep?

He’d been in Oak Hollow long enough to reconnect with the old friends he’d cared to
reconnect with. Still, he was lonely rumbling around his house all by himself. Him
and Soldier. And as much as he loved that dog, Soldier lacked the conversation that
Jax craved. And as of late, there was only one person he sought out. He looked at
Marissa all curled up in the corner of the sofa. Why did she draw him to her?

“Did you eat dinner? I could fix you something.” Marissa quickly changed the subject
and set her wine glass down before she started to get up.

“I had a bite a couple of hours ago. But thanks.”

She sat up straighter. “Did you have dessert?” She bounced up from the sofa. “Remember
that maple bacon cupcake I was telling you about? I think I perfected it. I made another
batch just before I left the shop.” She disappeared from sight for a moment then came
back with a little white box. “Will you try one?” She popped open a box and held it
out to him.

A bacon and cupcake combo was not his first choice. His culinary tastes ran to home
cooking. But he’d hurt her feelings if he said no.

He peeled back one corner of the paper and took a tentative bite. The rich maple flavor
played across his tongue first, then he got a bite of the salty bacon. Pretty good.

She stood waiting, still holding the box open.

“I like it.” He took another bite and swallowed.

“You’re not just saying that?”

“Not just saying that. I promise.” He finished off the cupcake, not to be polite but
because despite what he’d told her, it’d been hours since he’d grabbed an energy bar
and a bottle of Gatorade. And the cupcake was good.

“I’m glad. I’ve been working hard to get this one right. I need something to draw
more male clientele into the shop.”

More guys in her shop? It startled Jax how much he didn’t like the idea of men coming
into her shop. And flirting with her.

He had zero right to be territorial where Marissa Llewellyn was concerned, though.
They barely knew each other. He wanted to get to know her better, sure. Wanted it
more every time he ran into her.

He was, however, hesitant to even try to start anything up so soon after moving back
to Oak Hollow. Not to mention the fact that this particular woman had lied to him.

“Well, then.” She flipped the lid closed on the box and set it on the coffee table
in front of him. “The rest of these are yours. To take home with you for later.” She
sat back in her spot at the other end of the sofa and picked up her wine glass. She
twirled it in her hand, not quite looking at him.

She looked uncomfortable. Was it general nerves from being around a new person or
was she feeling guilty about lying? Other than leaving, Jax couldn’t do anything about
the first but he could pursue the second. “I told you about the other break-ins, right?”

Her spine stiffened and she gave a quick nod. “You did. But as I said, the trouble
at my shop was a misunderstanding. Not a break-in. No worries about us.”

“Marissa.” Jax scooted forward in his spot and set his glass on the table. “You can’t
honestly tell me—”

“Look,
Chief,
I’m telling you, when I called the other night it was a mistake. I am ever so sorry
to have bothered you with the call.” She set her glass down with a little too much
force, then stood. “It’s getting late. If there’s nothing else…” She picked up the
box of cupcakes, thrust them into his hands then walked toward the door. “Thank you
for stopping by.”

Jax had to pick his battles. He strode to the door. As he drew even with her he stopped
and stared until she met his gaze. “I’m not going to let this go. There are other
businesses at stake.”

“I understand that. But it has nothing to do with mine or my employees. Good night,
Chief.” She gently pushed him out the door.

“We’ll see about that,” he said to the closed door.

Marissa woke with a start when the phone on the nightstand blared. She scooped it
up. “‘Lo?”

“I knew you’d oversleep. Go jump in the shower
now
and get ready as quickly as possible. I will see you at the club in thirty minutes
or else…” Marlie hung up.

The “or else” was enough to get Marissa moving. She didn’t even want to think what
her sister might do if she wasn’t there on time. Marlie was as sweet as pie when she
wasn’t working, but put a clipboard and an agenda in her hands and she’d scare a star
off a general.

Marissa jumped in and out of the shower in record time, then threw on a dress. It
was pretty enough and probably still in style. Not a lot of dressy options in her
closet. Pants were easier at work, and the last time she’d been on a date… She couldn’t
even remember. She glanced at the clock over her TV as she gathered up her purse and
car keys. Fifteen minutes to make the ten-minute drive to the club. Plenty of time.

She took a slight detour on the way to the club so she could drive past her shop—just
to make sure it was still in one piece. As she passed there was movement behind the
counter. And there were no tables or chairs in the front of the shop. “What the…”
Thankfully, there was no traffic as she made a quick U-turn in the middle of the four-lane
street and pulled into the parking lot.

“Hill?” She pushed through the front door.

He popped up from behind the counter. “Oh, hey. I wasn’t expecting you yet.”

“Clearly. What are you doing?” She fought the urge to tap her foot.

A deep crimson spread across his cheeks. “Cleaning.”

It was only then that she noticed the mop in his hand and a large bucket in the corner.
“I, uh…” Marissa frowned as she eased up next to the counter. “Where’s all the furniture?”

Hill shifted and a table squeaked. “Back here.” He wove his way through the mini-maze
of tables and stools to come around the counter. “I thought it’d be easier.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. To thank you.” Hill ducked his head. “Not many people would go out of
their way for a kid they don’t know.”

“I didn’t do anything.” She rubbed at an imaginary mark with her thumb on the spotless
countertop. “Did you clean out the cases too?”

He shrugged. The glass fronts of the case shone even in the early morning light.

Marissa’s throat tightened. A little piece of her had expected that he’d grab some
of the smaller appliances and she’d never see him again.

“Did I do something wrong?” Hill gripped the mop between both his hands.

“Oh, no sweetie, no.” Marissa hurried over to him, but stopped short of rubbing his
shoulder. “No, you did a wonderful job. I didn’t want you to have to go to so much
trouble. I figured we’d set up a routine for you later today when I came in.”