Hanging on (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2) (37 page)

Whatever the reason, my hackles rose and I was ready to throw down. I opened my mouth to cause some serious, and grave, offense, but Lump beat me to it.

“No harm done, Adam,” Lump said in a pleasant voice. You had to listen closely to realize the tone was like a pink knife on a whetstone.

Brad’s eyes snapped to Lump, wide. My small hairs stood on end.

Lump was not fucking around. Elise had just crossed the line.

Eyes looking at her beer in faux indifference, she continued speaking to Adam. “We’ve been listening to the pride of the south in your accent since we’ve made an acquaintance. I’d hate to lose it now. I might forget where I am.” Lump raised her eyes up to Elise.

It was clear Elise was about to, politely, rebuff Lump. Then she got the
look
.

I don’t care who you are, if you got that look from Lump, you not only deserved it, but you either put up or shut up. You backed down or you fought it out.

I’d tried to fight it out once. In Mexico, actually. I ended up in the pool with everyone laughing at me. Lump did not care that I was too drunk to get out on my own and had to be rescued by the hotel staff, I'd done something stupid--to this day I have no idea what--and she set matters straight.

There was no way Elise was going to fight it out. Instead, she ruffled her napkin and said, “Well, yes, I can see what you mean. I’m so sorry, Adam. If you will excuse me, I need to powder my nose.”

Adam stared after her a minute, then said, “No need to go scarin’ her, Betz. She didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

“Well,” Brad said, staring at Lump and saying in a voice like John Wayne, “I
ain’t
afraid of you none, Lump-O.”

I laughed as Adam said, “Who you tryin’ to fool. You was shittin’ yer pants.”

“Yeah, Brad
ley
,” I mocked.

“I’m going to go talk to the boys, where I get a little
respect.”
Brad sniffed dramatically.

“Only to your face!” I yelled after him.

“You shouldn’t ’a done it, Betz. But thanks. You, neither, Jessica. I know what your face looks like right ‘afore you explode. It’s just…she’s used to an affluent family. She thinks, rightly, that slang makes a guy sound uneducated.”

“Stupid comments are what makes a guy seem uneducated,” Lump corrected, back to studying her beer label.

“Yeah, well, I was just tryin’ ta—“

“—get laid. We know,” I interrupted.

Adam’s face went red and he shook his head, a small smile curling his lips. “Think I’m going to go join the guys.”

After he was gone Lump said, “If he was out to prove he could put up with a lot of shit, then point proven.”

“Didn’t think you would jump to his defense,” I said evenly, purposely watching William lean against the bar so Lump didn’t think I was implying anything. William’s perfect chest was pointed my way so I admired his pecks while Lump stared at the side of my face.

When she was convinced I wasn’t up to mischief, she said, “Adam is a good friend of Willie’s, and Willie treats my best bud like a princess. Adam is, therefore, one of my good friends, once removed. I don’t let people treat my friends like that.”

“Plus, Adam is probably putting up with a lot of shit so you don’t think he’s a monster.”

“And that, yeah.”

“He isn’t, though. You know—a monster…”

“Don’t start.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t in the mood to go swimming with my clothes on.

Later that night, in a moment of insecurity, I asked William if he liked Elise better than me. She was subtle and polite and petite and rich. I was told not to be dumb—he liked the loud, irritating, bitchy, Amazon types—I was perfect.

Adam apparently met her through some family friends. She was from Georgia, or maybe South Carolina? I wasn't listening that closely. They’d met a couple weeks ago and hit it off right away. That’s what William said, anyway.

I held my tongue on that one. I’d noticed that William had avoided her all night. He was a great conversationalist, and just as polite, but to him, like us, it was effort, and he didn’t like hanging out with friends to be work.

It was something no one wanted to admit to Adam.

Chapter Twenty

Work was going well. It was getting close to year end so tensions were running high. We had to get the year-end close in order, and start getting our things straight for the eventual audit. The company was performing solidly, though, and we would be getting bonuses if the numbers panned out. There were even talks of expansion in the near future, which meant William might have to travel, but it wasn't for sure yet.

It wasn’t long before the big news came that Ty was going to ask Candace to marry him! Men did love to gossip. I was thinking Ty would ask at Christmas time when the families were all together, but Candace had it in her head for next year, so I didn't say anything.

Candace, like most modern women, wanted a ring she liked, but wanted to be surprised when he proposed. Ty, like most modern men, didn’t have a clue about jewelry, so knowing what Candace liked was next to impossible. Conundrum.

We, meaning Lump and I, decided we’d go with Candace, help her pick out a ring, show the final product to Adam and William who would relay the information to Ty. Which was the second plan I suggested. Because I'm brilliant.

I have no idea why I got scoffs when I pointed that out.

The day of the great ring pick-out we all met at Adam's to give him more time to do farm crap. It was the first time I’d been there, so I was interested to see what kind of place he lived in. William called it nosey. I reminded him that opinions were like assholes; everyone had one and they all stunk, so he could shove it up his hole.

Lump laughed from the back of the car.

We pulled into Adam’s moderate sized house on the edge of the city. It had a big yard—about an acre apparently—with landscaping and grass and trees and other lovely yard things. He even had a lawn jockey! That had been a joke gift from William when Adam bought the place, and Adam thought it was funny enough to keep around.

We parked next to a shiny Mercedes, or “Merc” as Adam called it, and filed out.

“I thought he had a ranch,” Lump said, looking around.

“He does,” William answered, waiting for us to have a look around before heading to the expansive porch with two rocking chairs next to the door. “It’s way out of town. There’s a ranch house on it, and while it’s livable, it’s not all that comfortable.”

“Why?” Lump asked, walking around the grass.

“Needs a new roof, a new furnace, and some interior fixing. It’s more for the ranch hands to have a place to eat lunch and rest than anything.”

“I feel like I’m on an episode of the
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.
Two houses, nice cars, employees…”

William looked around with consternation. It wasn’t nearly as much as his family had, so he wasn’t quite sure what Lump was talking about. He did know, though, that Adam didn’t identify with his money. He had it, and he made it prosper, but he’d got it from a father he hated and nearly killed once—saying thank you for the handout was a tough pill to swallow.

“If your parents sold their house in California, they could probably buy the ranch and this house with the money,” I moderated.

“How do you figure?” Lump asked, looking at a garden gnome.

“Your parent’s house probably goes for about a million, right?”

“A
million?
” William asked, leaning against the car.

“William, don’t be dense—California real estate is insane. It’s a four-bedroom home with a two-car garage in a nice neighborhood. It’s no mansion—“

“Not even close!” Lump interrupted.

“—but it’s worth about a million for where it’s at in LA.”

“You couldn’t buy both this house and Adam’s ranch with that—Adam has expanded a great deal in the last few years—he’s turning a great profit and investing wisely. You couldn’t buy both, no.” William’s eyes got distant as he did numbers in his head. “But you could certainly buy a great deal out here. Three of these houses, probably.”

“Can we just go in, now?” Lump asked.

William shrugged. I could tell he was wondering why Lump was so put off by all this. I was, too. Something was eating away at her, but damned if I knew what. Now was not the greatest time to ask.

We lumbered up the porch steps, staring cockeyed at the rocking chairs, which were a bit lopsided and odd-looking.

“Adam made those,” William remarked.

“Shut up!” I said loudly, looking closer.

If they were in a store, you’d wonder if the manufacturer was smoking crack when he made them. They kind of leaning to the side with some pieces that didn’t quite fit with others. I wondered if it’d break when I sat down. But if Adam made them, who wasn’t a freaking wood-worker with a bunch of machines, then they were awesome.

Still, I’d hesitate to sit. They did not look sturdy.

As I turned my eyes back to the door, intending to knock, Adam swung it open with a, “Hey. Nearly ready.”

He gestured us in, but the movement only emphasized what had my eyes guiltily mesmerized. The guy was shirtless, and had a body extremely similar to William’s.

I mean, yes, I knew he had the broad shoulders. You could see that through his shirts. But his shirts were generally loose. There was a hint of peck, and an occasional peek-a-boo of defined bicep, but I’d never seen it all put together.

His torso, rippled with defined muscle, was tanned. He had dark, curly chest hair and a small, nasty looking scar on the right side of his stomach. His abs were a cut six-pack with a happy trail of dark hair leading down into his fun zone.

It wasn’t that seeing a muscled guy was strange to me. Aside from William, I’d seen a million nice upper bodies at the gym, in ads, and all over TV. In L.A., where everyone wanted to be an actor or model, it was almost a norm.

But it was
Adam
! A sexual type flush was way wrong. And gross! He was a brother to me. He was a caretaker. He shouldn’t have surprised me with muscles! It didn’t give my logical brain time to realize it wasn’t a big deal!

I yanked my eyes away, desperate to look anywhere but at his bare chest. I heard a “Holy fuck!” behind me. Lump had been caught off guard, too. She probably also had the same thoughts. Not about the guilt, but she didn’t want to see this guy as a sex-symbol, either. She’d categorized him as scary, and therefore, off-limits. Her head was probably going pear-shaped. Together we'd be a fruit bowl.

She didn’t have her boyfriend following her up the steps, though! I definitely won the
this is totally awkward
contest!

“Hey Adam,” I remarked nonchalantly, lifting my foot up the last step as my eyes swung off to the left. I wasn’t sure where to look other than needing to look
elsewhere
.

“Hi Jess—“

It was then that my brain, not closely monitoring anything but my eyes and thoughts, forgot to tell my foot to keep stepping
up.
As such, I caught the step with my toe and lost my balance, tipping forward. Being that I still would not look at Adam’s chest and abs, and
definitely
did not want to touch said chest and abs, I started flailing, determined to fall on my face in order to keep things PG-13. But Adam was too nice, and too quick, to let that happen, damn him.

He easily grabbed my shoulders and half lifted me up the step, which probably would have worked out well, if not for Lump falling into me. Her full weight hit my back, pushing me forward—into Adam’s bare skin.

“Oh no!” I cried, trying to pull my hands away from flesh as if it burned.

I struggled out of his hands, trying to angle my body to the side so I could fall in peace. He wouldn’t freaking let go, though, now also trying to right Lump. I kept flailing, pushing off then getting freaked out and recoiling, trying to fall but held up by one strong arm. Seeing that strong arm taxed, so similar to William’s, made my brain buzz in white noise, desperate to block out all semblance of Sexy-Man thoughts, and I pushed harder, then recoiled again.

“Willie, quit touching me!” Lump yelled.

Sounded like she’d just joined the awkward club. Falling into a hot man in front of a boyfriend wasn’t great, but having your friend’s boyfriend grabbing you while thinking of muscles and bare chest wasn’t great, either. We both struggled to the side now, trying to get away, until finally both boys, in sheer confusion, lost hold and let us tumble to the wooden porch in a mess of arms and legs.

“Christ, you guys, how are you not used to a clumsy girl? Jessica must have shown you the ropes by now!” Lump said in exasperation.

“They always catch me,” I expressed, out of breath.

“No touching,” Lump stated, also out of breath.

“What the hell is wrong with y’all?” Adam exclaimed, stopping, half-bent, at Lump’s comment. “Ain’t you never walked up steps?”

“Just…go get a shirt,” Lump scolded, getting off me and helping me up, throwing a finger out to stop William from stepping closer.

“And I do not care for your slang!” I yelled after him. Lump chuckled.

“You girls have lost it,” William said with sparkling eyes.

“I know you are but what am I,” I replied, not caring that it didn’t fit.

Adam’s house had a few things similar to Williams; weird paintings, a leather sofa and a bachelor feel. That was where the similarities ended. As opposed to William’s
over
decorated interior, Adam’s was bare. There was a beer sign or two, and a rug over the hard wood floor, but that was about it. It was to the point where he didn’t even know to buy a lamp to solve the lack of light problem. The guy was definitely a boy, and his place proved it! It was a shame, too, because the house had such potential; high vaulted ceilings, glossy hard wood, decorative trimming on the doors and windows.