Sealed with a promise (6 page)

  “If you do, Pickett will wind up embarrassed and tense because somebody-probably a lot of somebodies-will make jokes about why they won’t eat the wedding cake. And then, if she attempts to explain, they’ll be embarrassed because their jokes called attention to her ‘affliction’-”

  “‘Affliction?’ You’ve gotta be kidding.”

  “- and then Pickett will be more embarrassed.”

  She was right about that. Jax would put a stop to any teasing, too-but likely by causing heads to roll.

  On the other hand, making an end-run around the system that allowed the problem to discreetly disappear was much more a Chief’s approach, especially when everyone needed to respect everyone else in the morning.

  Screwball as it was, Emmie’s scheme had a certain quixotic appeal-like a reverse practical joke. He’d been pissed by the cousins’ sly devaluing of Pickett, and while the remedy didn’t administer the justice they deserved, he’d like to know he’d put one over on them.

  “I just want Pickett to have the same kind of fun everyone else gets to have, without hurting anybody’s feelings or putting anyone in the wrong.”

  To his surprise, Emmie was winning him over. His irritation with her had vanished as soon as she grabbed his arm. Maybe because in the last few minutes he’d begun to think she was interesting. Plain, yes, but female, definitely. A wedding cake heist was the most entertainment he’d been offered this weekend. Good deeds of this kind were notorious for backfiring, though.

  To gain time while he thought it over, Do-Lord pretended to study the wedding cake picture. The photo beside it was of the same couple taken from a slightly different angle. This time the flash had illuminated more of the bystanders. One smiling face, just past the bride’s shoulder, arrested his attention.

  His heart beat harder, and the small of his back prickled as sweat popped out. His country-boy smile widened.

  “Is that Teague Calhoun, the senator?”

  Emmie moved closer to see what he was looking at. “Um-hmm. He’ll be coming to Pickett’s wedding too. His wife is a cousin on Pickett’s grandmother’s side, I think. Her
mother’s
mother,” she clarified, as if that made all the difference. She snickered, but not unkindly. “Everybody calls this Aunt Lilly Hale’s ‘bragging wall.’ She’s got a president up here somewhere.” Emmie reached past him to point out the famous face in a group of men dressed in hunting camo. “I’ll bet that wedding photo, while nominally of Aunt Lilly Hale’s granddaughter, made the cut because Uncle Teague is one of the richest men in North Carolina, in addition to being a senator.”

  
And she knew him.
Do-Lord’s heart rate kicked up again. What were the odds? A plan formed in his mind, but he had to know one detail first. “Is Teague Calhoun really your uncle, or just somebody else you call ‘uncle?’”

  “Not really. I sound like I claim kin to a lot of people I’m not related to, don’t I?” Rose color suffused Emmie’s cheek, as if she was embarrassed. The touch of color emphasized the blue of her eyes and called attention to the porcelain clarity of her skin. He’d seen a lot of porcelain in the last few days, and now he understood what those romance writers meant. He didn’t think he’d ever seen prettier skin in his life. “Calling him ‘uncle’ is just another habit I got into, but in this case it’s because my grandmother was a friend of his. Why are you so interested in him?”

  Emmie claimed kin to a host of people she wasn’t related to, whereas the only person he knew for sure he
was
related to, didn’t claim him at all. It was just one of the many, many differences between them. Do-Lord ignored the relief he felt that she was no relation of Calhoun’s.

  “Just surprised, is all.” Do-Lord decided to give her part of the truth. He was starting to realize that Emmie, unworldly and detached though she might appear, saw a great deal. “My unit was detailed to protect him one time.”

  “Isn’t it strange how no matter where you go, you seem to meet the same people over and over? Or at any rate, people who seem to know the same people you do? Teague Calhoun was executor of my grandmother’s estate-not that I think he did the actual work. He has ‘people.’ I never expected to see him again once the estate was settled, but it turned out he’s at all Pickett’s family parties. The important ones,” she added cynically, “where all the important people will be seen.”

  Karmic circles, she was talking about. Groups of souls who reincarnate together to work out debts left over from past lives. Reincarnation made a lot of sense to Do-Lord, but he’d never considered that he and Calhoun might have karmic ties that would bring them together over and over until they learned their lessons. Until the moment Calhoun had appeared in Afghanistan, he’d never met the man.

  Karma or not, the evidence was in front of him that the unfinished business between him and Calhoun couldn’t be ignored. It wasn’t going to stay buried even though he’d refused one opportunity to even the score.

  He had to think. Do-Lord fought the distraction of her feminine scent. She stood just behind him, still studying the wall of photographs. He wondered if she knew how often she encroached on his space, or what it meant.

  In spite of the fact that she irritated him, he was starting to like her. She was abrupt, but he suspected that was because she was as goal-driven as he was, and had as little patience with meaningless chatter. She was as loyal to Pickett as he was to Jax. Where she gave herself, she gave herself completely. Briefly, he wondered what it would be like to tease her into full sexual awareness of him, to stroke that heat he sensed into flame.

  The thought was amazingly hot, but he dismissed it. While some SEALs seemed to think wearing the Trident entitled them to sex anytime they wanted, he didn’t use women. Sex wasn’t hard to come by for any SEAL. There was never any reason to take advantage of a woman who didn’t know the score. But that didn’t mean he would turn away this opportunity the universe had sent him. She had the background he needed, and the entr?e into a strata of society he couldn’t touch-yet anyone could see she wasn’t one of them.

  And right now she needed him. A smart Chief made sure more people owed him favors than he owed favors to. Do-Lord had been wondering ever since Afghanistan how he would get closer to Calhoun in a way that wouldn’t implicate other SEALs. Now he knew.

  “I’m in.” A conspiratorial grin turned Caleb’s eyes a devilish shade of golden. “What do we have to do?”

  He
was
going to help her. The sudden relief from the tension of the last hour left Emmie almost giddy.

  A lot of people thought, because she didn’t pay attention to the same things others did, Emmie wasn’t observant. She couldn’t tell the difference between a Mercedes and a BMW, a Rolex and a Timex, and didn’t know why anyone would waste time shopping when slacks could be ordered from catalogs. The surface of things didn’t interest her.

  She
had
noticed that though he spoke with a country accent, his English was grammatical. He employed an inexhaustible vocabulary of smiles, and despite meticulous courtesy, until these last few minutes, he’d barely tolerated her.

  
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain.
The quote from Hamlet popped into her head. She didn’t think he was a villain, exactly, but she knew beyond doubt he used that particular smile to cover his thoughts rather than to reveal them.

  There was more to him than met the eye. A lot more. The thought was a little shivery, but intriguing. He had reasons of his own for assisting her. So be it.

  “The cake I ordered is waiting to be picked up at the UPS office. We’ll take it to the country club while no one is there and substitute it. Simple, really.” “What will we do with the other cake?” “Pack it in the box the substitute cake came in. I spent hours on the Internet locating a baker who would make a gluten-free cake identical to the one Grace ordered.” And maxed out her Visa to get the cake made and here on time. “I made the plan before I hurt my arm, though. My cake will have to be assembled.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of Murphy’s Law? Anything that can go wrong-”

  “Will go wrong,” Emmie finished. “Of course, I’ve heard of it. I find it unrealistically negative.” She felt giddy again. Free of anxiety, now she felt challenged rather than pressured. “Really, finding a baker was the hard part. Since you have two good arms, the rest should be-dare I say it? A piece of cake.”

  On the wide front steps flanked by massive boxwoods they ran into Jax. His normally hard face softened by tender amusement, Jax was watching his small son race around the wide lawn attempting to catch bright leaves as they drifted down from the many old shade trees. Jax had been absent for most of Tyler’s short life but was determined to make up for it now.

  “Emmie! Emmie!” Tyler caught sight of them and flung himself toward Emmie, arms outstretched wide intending to hug her around the knees the same way he hugged Pickett. Apparently, he had decided Emmie rated the same affection.

  Tyler was utterly unrestrained in administering hugs. Do-Lord put his arm behind Emmie’s waist ready to catch her if Tyler unbalanced her, but before Tyler could connect, Jax swept him up.

  “Easy Tyler, remember? You have to be careful with ladies.”

  “You said I had to be careful with
Pickett.
”

  “Well, you have to be careful with Emmie, too.”

  “Do I have to be careful with Aunt Grace, and Aunt Sarah Bea, and Aunt Lyle?” Tyler listed Pickett’s sisters. He seemed delighted with all the family he was acquiring along with a stepmother and missed no opportunity to name every one. “And Aunt Lilly Hale and-”

  “Yes,” Jax interrupted the list. Since Pickett’s family was large, it could go on quite a while. “You have to be careful with every single one. Now, can you give Emmie a
gentle
hug? She has a hurt arm, so you need to be extra special careful.”

  Lifted into position by his father, Tyler settled hands weightless as snowflakes on Emmie’s shoulders and pressed his cheek against hers. After a moment’s hesitation, Emmie brought her good arm up to hold him to her.

  “Did the hug make you all better?” Tyler inquired with a child’s innocent faith as his father lifted him away. “Do you want another one?”

  “Um, maybe later.”

  “Did you know I’m going to be five soon?” Tyler asked Emmie in the lightning fast shift of attention typical of children. “I’m four now,” he clarified, “but
then,
I’ll be five.”

  “Oh.” Emmie seemed unsure of what to say, but she gave the child the courtesy of taking him seriously. Do-Lord liked that about her. So many people thought that because children were na?ve they were negligible. “When is your birthday?”

  “Tomorrow!”

  “Not tomorrow, son,” Jax corrected. “December twelfth.”

  “December twelfth,” Tyler parroted. “That’s
soon,
right? Did you know after we get married tonight, Pickett’s mother will be
my
grandmother?”

  Emmie’s eyes turned to Do-Lord in momentary confusion. She must not have much experience with little kids. Do-Lord nodded. “Yes.” She turned back to Tyler. “I knew that.”

  Before he could start into another
did you know
Jax hung Tyler upside down by his hands. Tyler executed a backwards body flip to the ground.

  “Hey, Tyler, go get us five more leaves to take to the hotel, okay?”

  Tyler held up a hand, fingers spread wide. “Five?”

  “Right.”

  When the little boy was out of earshot, Jax turned to Do-Lord. “Listen, I just found out his other grandmother, Lauren, is coming to the wedding. Pickett insisted on inviting her.”

  Do- Lord whistled softly. Lauren was the mother of Jax’s ex-wife, Danielle. Tyler had stayed with her until Jax could return from Afghanistan. There had never been any love lost between her and Jax, and now she was trying to take Tyler away from him. The wedding wouldn’t have been rushed if not for the need to head off any possibility of her getting Tyler.

  “Wait a minute,” Emmie interrupted. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing. I understand where Pickett’s coming from. Lauren might not be the best custodian for Tyler, but she’s still his grandmother. He needs the link to his mother and his past that Lauren can provide.”

  “I understand what Pickett’s saying, too. Inviting Lauren was her call, and you know I’m going to back her. I had hoped Lauren wouldn’t accept. Pickett doesn’t know what Lauren is capable of. She hasn’t ever had to deal with her.”

  “Don’t sell Pickett short. She’s a lot tougher than she looks. She can deal with anything Lauren can dish out. She’ll protect Tyler if she needs to, but she says it’s best not to protect children from knowing their parents and grandparents.”

  Do- Lord laid a careful hand on Emmie’s good shoulder. “You don’t have to defend Pickett to Jax. He’s on her side. She shouldn’t
need
to handle Lauren on her wedding day. No worries, boss,” he added to Jax. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

  Jax nodded his understanding. “Thanks.” He gave Do-Lord and Emmie a considering look, his light-colored eyes flicking between them. “Where are you two off to?”

  “Emmie’s ready to leave. I said I’d give her a ride. She can’t drive with her arm in a sling.”

  “Is there anything else I need to know?” Jax’s tone was bland, disinterested. Like hell. He knew something was up. Do-Lord wondered what stray flicker of body language had given them away. Do-Lord would just as soon have stayed out of range of Jax’s radar. It would be better if Jax had no foreknowledge of Emmie’s quixotic scheme or Do-Lord’s reasons for agreeing to help her.

  “Nah. I’ve got everything handled.” Do-Lord matched Jax’s casual tone perfectly, knowing he didn’t need to add
trust me.

  “I got ’em. I got the leaves.” Tyler ran back to the adults.