A Weaver Wedding. Allison Leigh

returned the girls’ greetings and needlessly washed her hands. Then, instead of taking the door that led back to the gymnasium, she let herself out through the opposite side, ending up on the cold expanse of cement leading to the outdoor racquetball courts.

      Her breath ringed around her head and the cold night air sent goose bumps along her limbs as she hurried along the cement. She’d walk around the building, go in the front again to retrieve her coat and car keys, and then head back home.

      Simple enough.

      Until she rounded the last corner and stopped short at the sight of Axel, leaning indolently against the building, her coat draped over his crossed arms.

      “Forget something?” He lifted the coat with one hand. Her keys were in his other and he jingled them.

      She went over to him and snatched both away, half-afraid that he’d refuse to give them to her. But he did, and she yanked her coat over her shoulders, turning toward the parking lot. “Your mother is looking for you.”

      He ignored that and followed her. “I’m not going away, Tara.”

      She wanted to press her hands over her ears. Instead, she quickened her steps until she was practically jogging through the rows of vehicles. Then her foot hit a patch of ice and she gasped, throwing out her hands to stop her fall. But she never made contact with the pavement.

      Axel scooped her up from behind. “Easy there.” His voice was soft against her neck.

      She strained against his arm, but it was immovable. “Let me go.” The words were garbled. Just as garbled as her vision thanks to the stupid tears that burned her eyes.

      “I’m not going to hurt you.” He settled her carefully on her feet and muttered an oath when he saw her tears. “Ah, hell. Don’t cry. I can take most anything but you crying.”

      That did not help. She felt the tears spill over her lashes and blamed the hormones pelting around inside her for her deplorable lack of control. “I’m so sorry you’re uncomfortable!” She swiped her cheeks but it was as effective as sticking her thumb in a leaking dam. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

      He was silent, his expression unreadable. “I can’t.”

      “Why not? Because of this story about Sloan? Nobody would make the mistake of thinking I matter to him, least of all me.”

      “You’re wrong.”

      “How do you know?”

      “Because I know him.” His voice was soft—as soft as it had been in the middle of the dance floor, but his words still seemed to echo around her.

      “Well, I’m glad you do, because I don’t. Not anymore.” She tried peeling Axel’s fingers away from where they were wrapped around her waist and the bunched lapels of her coat. “And I only have your word about all of this. So—”

      He exhaled and released her. “Why on God’s green earth would I make any of this up?”

      Certainly not because he’d need such a line to get close to her. She’d already proven how easy that was.

      “I don’t know,” she admitted and turned again to head for her SUV. She could see it just four vehicles over. “And frankly, I don’t care,” she said over her shoulder as she walked, more carefully this time, toward it.

      She squashed her biting conscience.

      After all. What was one more lie between them?