whatever reason, the combination of his tentative statement and confident pose struck her funny bone.
"You thought maybe a bed would be more comfortable than a kitchen table," she translated for him, biting back a giggle.
That shut him up briefly. Then he grunted. "It's a damned good thing that table weighs a ton or I would have slammed it against the wall."
Maya grinned in relief. So, maybe they'd both come a little unglued. "I vote we reserve the table for special, nonkid occasions," she replied noncommittally.
"Dinner?" he persisted, not letting her off the hook.
A cautious step on the stairs prevented Maya's immediate reply. She'd heard the shower earlier. Stephen never got up this early. Nervously, she glanced at Axell. He was watching whoever descended with that narrow, Norse god look, as if he'd shoot thunderbolts at any person who dared invade his cloud.
His expression turned from anger to wariness. A few months ago, Maya would have sworn Axell had no expressions, but she recognized the signs now. She glanced over her shoulder.
"Cleo!" she shouted with joy.
Axell caught the paint pot as Maya leaped from her seat and ran to embrace her sister. He should never have allowed Maya to leave a key out for an unknown factor like her sister. Although he could see the resemblance between them in the redhead coloring and delicate bone structure, the similarities ended there.
Maya's sister exhibited a tough, sharp edge that would cut a man in two if applied deliberately. She wore her dark red hair in a clipped, rough cut that emphasized the harshness of her cheekbones and the thinness of her lips. Partially tinted glasses hid her eyes, preventing any comparison with Maya's open, honest turquoise. Even as Maya enveloped her in a hug, Axell could sense Cleo's cold gaze on him. This was not a woman he'd like to meet in a dark alley.
"Come meet Axell," Maya said eagerly, urging her sister forward. "Axell, this is my sister Cleo." She didn't give either of them a chance to respond but leapt to the next question. "Why didn't you call? I wanted to come and get you. How did you get here?"
"I've got friends." Cleo dismissed the question curtly.
"You didn't have trouble finding the key where I told you it would be? And I fixed everything just like you had it before."
"It's fine, I found it just fine." She glanced down at Alexa. "This your kid?"
"Isn't she beautiful? Would you like to hold her?" Without waiting for an answer, Maya lifted Alexa from the cradle and offered her to Cleo.
Axell wanted to grab his daughter and shield her from this hard-eyed woman. He had to start remembering that Maya had more in common with this ex-convict than she did with him. Alexa didn't belong to him in any form. Stephen had refused to sign any release papers allowing Axell to adopt her. He bunched his fists at his sides and watched as Maya's sister inspected Alexa but refused to hold her.
"Where's Matty?" Cleo demanded, pulling back from her niece's ruffled pink blanket.
Axell thought he ought to leave the sisters to their reunion, but his stubborn protective instincts wouldn't surrender to logic or politeness. He wouldn't see Maya hurt.
"At the school," Maya replied happily, apparently not aware of her sister's icy distance. "I think kids benefit from year-round school, and he loves it, so I enrolled him in summer sessions." At Cleo's silence, Maya continued defensively, "It's my school. It doesn't cost anything."
Cleo nodded, and eyed Axell with suspicion. "Who's the turd who tried to climb in my bed last night?"
"Stephen! Oh my gosh, I forgot Stephen!" Anxiously, Maya handed Alexa to Axell. "What did you do, Cleo? It's my fault. I didn't know you were—"
Cleo cut her off. "He's in Matty's bed." She continued staring at Axell. "I want my son back."
Axell shifted Alexa to a more comfortable position. The more tense the situation became, the more he relaxed. It was an old defensive technique he'd learned long ago for defusing situations in the bar.
"That's up to Social Services," he replied blandly.
Cleo turned her glare on Maya. "He's got your daughter and my son. What's he doing, holding them hostage?"
Axell thought it might be time to take his leave, but a shout from above aroused his curiosity.
"Maya! Maya, are you down there? That bitch stole my best flannel shirt!"
This could very well turn out better than a Three Stooges farce, Axell concluded with glee, as he wiped baby dribble from Alexa's chin and