In Love by Design (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod) (13 page)

Pressing
forward between our seats, Dickie’s voice was full of bonhomie, “Oh, I don’t blame you for knocking me around a bit for abducting the pretty Anerbel and then threatening my life. That’s just good business and nothing personal, right?” His hand hovered in the air somewhere above Luke’s shoulder, as if to give a pat, but he thought better of it and said hurriedly, “The way I see it, Your Worship, you’re a good sport to let me choose which arm and leg you’re busting,” he added with a boastful confidence, “once I locate the soddin’ tosser that’s caused all of our problems tonight.”

“
See, easy-peasy, baby,” I murmured, patting Luke’s thigh while my shoulders shook at the names Dickie was calling my boyfriend and at his ingratiating good cheer.

Luke’s
black look of impending suffering he sent Dickie’s way expressed his opinion loud and clear. As Dickie shrank back with an exaggerated squeal of fright, I leaned my head against the seat and sighed.

This night ha
d already been so weird that I don’t even bother questioning how it was logically possible that I felt even a modicum of momentary contentment. My kidnapper’s riding happily in the backseat, someone wanted me dead, and Luke was driving with a cruel smirk on his face. He could be plotting to become the next Monsanto in the surrounding counties where I’ve grown up, but yet, I was actually basking in contentment at this very second.

Dickie
sat up and hung over the front seats again. “You know, Your Lovelies, I’m quite positive that I could be of service in the matter of the tainted gift giving. My friends all say I’ve a natural gift at,” I opened one eye in time to catch his sly, charming smile when he made quotes with his two hands, “fixing!”

Luke
swore and I laughed, but then we both groaned loudly when Dickie’s high-pitched, braying laughter pierced the night air and probably caused avalanches in the Arctic Circle.

“Short Skirt / Long Jacket
” by Cake

Friday, 12/07/2012

12:0
5 AM

T
he truck slowing down and the sound of Dickie’s voice kissing up to Luke with more effusive thanks woke me up. I lifted my lids a centimeter to see Luke. My boyfriend’s face was a mask of controlled composure, but a cheek muscle jumped. He was probably grinding his teeth into Chiclets. That gum reminded me of Svettie strutting naked in Luke’s studio condo. I scowled while pressing a hand low on my belly. Could that be Luke’s wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am sperm I felt leaping upstream in a determined race to detonate into one of my old eggs and fertilize cute little me?

Hey, I warned everyone it
wasn’t a good idea to let me nap.

Peering around, I
got my bearings and recognized the gas station at the Hwy 19 exit off 35W. Northfield beckoned about seven miles straight east from here and I couldn’t wait to get these toothpicks removed from my poor, throbbing ass.

Flying J Travel Plaza
was the unique name for this busy truck stop that has a restaurant attached called The Big Steer. If you still weren’t sure what that meant, a monstrous sign of a pissed off black steer, complete with a threatening set of horns, loomed over the front entrance.

Frowning at the sign, I remembered how a
s a little girl I was secretly frightened of this truck stop restaurant. It was full of bleary-eyed men that sat alone and shoveled food in their faces while looking grumpy as hell. It didn’t help when Mac warned us three little kids that if we didn’t belong to the clean plate club, a mean black bull was kept out back to chase bad little kids and gore them up the butt with those wicked sharp horns.

I
had surveyed my heaping plate from the buffet while I worried over that raging bull out back, but luckily, I was in a cowgirl phase. Once I thought it over, I was stunned to realize my idolized big sister was fibbing. Everybody knew a steer and a bull were two completely different animals. I quickly ushered the quivering Reg and Jaz away from our table and into the girl’s bathroom for a pep talk. Six-year-old Jazy’s eyes were round, but she seemed pretty confident she could outrun a bull until NanaBel saved her. Reg was terrified, since he was notorious at five for not finishing his dinner. He had the unappetizing habit of chewing the juice out of his meat and then spitting the big wad back onto his plate. I rushed to reassure them that Mac was a damned liar. I pointed out that this was The Big Steer restaurant, so why would a big black bull with no balls care if we ate our dinner or not?

Th
at was our first united rebellion against Mac’s eldest child totalitarian regime. Sibling life was never quite the same after that in the apartment. Anytime Mac the Knife threatened us with dire consequences, I’d thumb my nose and skeptically researched the facts.

Hard to believe I could fall sleep
with an irritating voice like Dickie’s talking, but if he and Luke spoke, I didn’t hear a word. Glancing at the dash clock, I’d been fast asleep for only ten minutes. That empty farm house hadn’t been too far out in the boonies. How did my enemy come to instruct Dickie to leave me at that particular farm out in the country on an obscure gravel road? I made a mental note to investigate this trail the first chance I got.

Luke
pulled into the station, but stopped the truck in the shadows a good distance away from the convenience store entrance.

He glanced into the rearview mirror. “Give Anabel back her check.”

I looked at Luke in surprise, but didn’t say anything when Dickie’s hand reached over the seat and returned the check I’d written for his services.

Luke
turned towards the backseat, pointed a finger to the door and said, “Out.”

Dickie scurried to open the door while Luke
reiterated in a hard voice, “Twenty-three hours, Webster.”

Luke
’s foot hit the gas the second Dickie’s heels hit the pavement.

He
gestured to the check in my hand. “I gave him cash in payment for one day’s work, the rest he’ll get from you if he deserves it.”

I
thought this over and nodded at Luke’s logic. “Thank you.

L
ooking out the window at the stocky figure of my abductor waving after our truck while blowing extravagant kisses and calling out his thanks, I gave a little wave in return. On a draft of wind from a semi driving past into the truck stop, Dickie’s black cape blew around his legs. The huge buckles on those seriously fucked up shoes gleamed like silvery beacons in the reflection of the passing headlights.

Sitting back
on my side, I commented, “It’s a good thing I removed his mask. I don’t think his reception would be pleasant inside the Big Steer if he’d tippy-toed around wearing that too! Do you think we should have waited to make sure he’s okay?”

“
Christ, no!” Luke answered emphatically. “Maybe they’ll mistake him for a vampire and drive a stake through his heart.” He shook his head at my laugh and shot me a grimly amused look. “The man kidnapped you! You have a very bizarre soft spot for dangerous oddballs, Anabel Axelrod.”

“Why yes I do, Luke Drake
. How astute of you to notice,” I agreed smoothly, tucking my left hand under my cheek where it rested on the seat.

He
glanced over with narrowed eyes. “Are you calling me an oddball?”

I giggled. “
Does the patent leather pump fit, my Dark Prince?”

“Not in this lifetime,” Luke answered
, even more emphatically.

“
I’m glad. It would make me nervous if my boyfriend wanted to put on my bras or thongs.”

“
I only want to take off your bras and thongs.”

Blowing
out a whoosh of relieved breath, I received another glinting look and smiled widely in return.

Looking forward
at the road ahead of us, I asked in confusion, “Hey, where are you going?”

“My
place,” he answered laconically, turning onto the ramp to head south on 35W and not straight east to Northfield.

“
Hmm, that’s funny, but I sure don’t recall being asked.”

“Don’t
stress, Princess, your memory is fine because I didn’t ask,” Luke assured me, and then his mouth quirked in a smile when he saw my reaction to his high-handedness.

I had every
intention of being lippy in return, but instead heard my mouth inquire, “When you say ‘my place’, do you mean your barn or your house?”

Luke took his eyes off the road to give me a
curious once over. “My place means the whole property, I guess, but my bedroom is in the house.” His black lashes lowered over smoldering eyes. “Unless, are you’re begging me for another night in the barn, Anabel?”

“
Oh, I just love your wishful thinking,” I purred and then sighed dejectedly. Another golden opportunity to see Luke’s house was slipping through my fingers like the sand through an hourglass. “Sorry, but as much as I’d like to make all your dreams come true, I can’t come over tonight. Please take the next exit and drive me to Anna’s house.”

This surprise
d Luke. “Anna’s house?”

“Yeah,
I called her a little while ago and she agreed to operate on my buttocks before I go home.”

Luke didn’t
glance my way, but there was an enigmatic smile on those luscious lips that I didn’t trust for one millisecond. “I doubt she’s expecting you tonight.”

A
s I reached for my phone, his smile grew wider and it transformed the lines of his harsh face into something devastatingly attractive.

What Luke does to me was almost miraculous, in
a scary way. When I see that irresistible grin any mundane human emotions I was feeling, such as exhaustion or boredom, fly out the window. One sweeping glance from his glittering eyes and I’m raring to go.

I would swear on my last dying breath that I affect
ed him in a similar way—whatever the male equivalent emotion may be that a female can never truly comprehend. Believing he felt the same way I do was the only reason I wasn’t tearing my hair out and running in the opposite direction. Luke’s right, needing someone so much in your life was absolutely terrifying.

T
he endless ocean of want I have for this particular man drowned the word “love” into an expression tritely small and vastly insufficient to describe what he meant to me. Gazing at him while he drove and continued to tease me, I watched his mouth move. There’s a connection between us that hums and vibrates. It outlines us together in a joint aura that I was convinced would be pulsating colors of deep scarlet and indigo blue with lightning strikes of gold, if it could be seen by the naked eye. Instead, I could only feel the power of our connection singing in the blood flowing through my body and I swear my heart pumped stronger just for him.

I laugh
ed at myself for these fanciful, girly-girl thoughts and heard Luke saying, “Besides, I’m much more…equipped to operate on your buttocks.” This made me snort, as I began to text Anna. “Oh, and Anabel?”

When I raise
d my eyes, bold challenge was written all over Luke’s face and it matched the sexual certainty in his voice. Throw a Morion helmet on his arrogant head and he could be a Spanish Conquistador beholding a troublesome Inca maiden not falling on her back quick enough to suit him.

“
You will soon be begging me to make all your dreams come true.”

T
he connotation of the word arrogant is most commonly paired in conjunction with a person not having the skills or confidence to back up their claims. Where Luke was concerned, his arrogance was a forceful reminder that I’m the one lying here with the panties of my teddy ripped apart by his hands and screaming my orgasm to the skies in less than thirty seconds. But that’s okay that El Drake has me confused with a conquered Inca maiden. I think he’ll find that I’m much more of the Viking shield-maiden type when it comes to challenges, so I only flashed him a flirty sideways glance and a sweep of my lashes in response.

Finishing the text, I ask
ed, “Why wouldn’t Anna be expecting me when I just spoke with her?” Then I added, “Hmm, that’s another funny thing, but I don’t recall asking you to operate on my butt, either.”

Luke
smiled at my feisty tone and shook his head. “Anabel, Anabel, when are you going to stop confusing me with everyone else in your life that’s always asking your permission?” I snorted again at that, but Luke continued urbanely, “Anna doesn’t expect you because I called her yesterday and she helped me make some arrangements.” He murmured appreciatively, “Our Anna’s a helpful woman.”

Rolling my eyes, I despair
ed of my best friend. Anna’s confused Luke with Superman and has this annoying tendency to do whatever he says in the most ardently obedient manner, no matter how many times I have warned her how tricky he can be.

I asked suspiciously, “
Helpful how?”

Eyes on the dark highway ahead,
he answered casually, “Oh, she helped by telling me your schedule for tonight.”