Secret Kiss (21 page)

Adam gave the same answer he’d given his cousin the day after he’d arrived here when he’d asked him about Alexis. “It’s complicated.”

“I think it’s a lot less complicated than you’re making it.” Levi grabbed a tall neck and opened it before setting it in front of Adam. Then he moved on from grilling him about Jane and worked his way down the bar, serving the patrons he’d been ignoring.

Adam took a sip of the cold beer and wondered if his cousin was right. Was he making things more complicated than they needed to be? He liked Jane. If their kisses were any indication, she liked him too. Maybe he should
un-
complicate things. Maybe he should play this thing out with Jane and see how it went.

Just as he was mulling over that appealing possibility, his phone alerted him to a text. When he saw who it was, he was reminded of exactly why he couldn’t and shouldn’t do that. It was Alexis.

His life was complicated enough without dragging someone else into it, especially someone as sweet and perfect as Jane. He needed to keep his distance. And he would.

As soon as he was done pretending to be her boyfriend.

‡

“O
h that feels so good,” Jane moaned as hot water sprayed over her shoulders, pelting her sore muscles in a rhythmic massage.

Closing her eyes, she luxuriated in the delicious heat enveloping her in the shower stall. She’d always preferred baths to showers. She loved filling the tub and relaxing in the warm water with a glass of wine and a book. But this particular shower was practically orgasmic.

As much as she’d wanted to soak in the bathtub, she’d decided to forgo her guilty pleasure because there was a chance her grandparents could be home any minute. When she’d returned from the Book Club meeting to an empty house, she’d texted her nana to make sure everything was okay. She’d received a return text that said that they were still “at the table playing” and would be home as soon as they “demolished” their “opponents.”

It was a quarter to eleven, and it appeared that total world domination hadn’t yet taken place. Jane wondered if she would have that kind of energy and stamina at their age. She doubted it since she didn’t have it now.

Rolling her head from side to side, Jane took full advantage of the aquatic massage. What had started out as a quick shower to rinse off before she waited for her nana and papa to get home had turned into a therapeutic spa experience the second the hot water had touched her skin.

Still, as amazing as this felt, it didn’t even run a close second to the feeling of Adam’s lips on hers. In fact, her lips still tingled from his all-consuming kisses like she was wearing menthol ChapStick. Her body craved another kiss from him like she imagined a dope addict needed their next hit. His kisses were like Pringles—once you popped, you couldn’t stop. It was all she could think about.

The therapist her grandparents had insisted she go to as a preteen had diagnosed her with “OCD tendencies.” Ever since being diagnosed, she’d always felt like she had a decent amount of control over her obsessive impulses. In fact, she’d tried to use them to her advantage as a drive to succeed. Now, every synapse in her body was focused on one thing and one thing only: another kiss from Adam.

All day, she’d had to stop herself from making some excuse to go into the office on the off chance that, if they were alone again, lightning would strike a third time and he’d kiss her.

It was pathetic. She could admit that. But at least she hadn’t acted on her Desperate Housewife-esque impulses.

She hadn’t seen Adam since they stood on the porch last night after he’d seen her grandparents home and taken care of getting their luggage squared away. The saying “out of sight, out of mind” definitely didn’t apply to this situation. Adam consumed her thoughts every hour, every minute, every second that they were apart.

Her decision to take the day off to spend with her nana and papa had partially been motivated by the nerves swelling like a giant wave about to crash onto the shore inside her. All night, she had tossed and turned with the memory of Adam’s kisses filling her mind. When’d she thought of facing him at work this morning, she’d chickened out. Plain and simple. Jane was sure that one look at her and Adam would have known how much she’d been obsessing about him, which would have been more than a little embarrassing. He’d have seen through her like cellophane wrap over a fruit salad. All of her thoughts and fantasies would have been exposed as clearly as the grapes, watermelon, and pineapple in her favorite snack.

Jane had always been a planner. She’d always tried to be two steps ahead of the game and the only way to do that was to know how to play it. With Adam, she had no idea what her next move, or his, was going to be. She felt like she was a pawn in the game of life. Her happiness was on the line, and she wasn’t sure what the rules were. Navigating through this situation was like trying to put a jigsaw puzzle together without an image of the final picture to guide her. She was winging it, attempting to click pieces together and praying that it would all fit together.

It was driving her crazy.

Her anxiety level had gone from merely high to skyscraper heights.

Control. Jane needed to take back some control. Scrolling her mind, she created a mental spreadsheet of exactly how to do that. Tasks. Tasks would put her back in control.

She knew she still had to pack, check her e-mails, and make sure nothing needed her attention before she got up early tomorrow to travel to San Francisco. It was a baby step, but it was something that was one hundred percent under her control.

Jane turned the shower off and stepped out onto the plush, pink rug. The bathroom had white-and-black-checkered tiles with pink accents, and she’d purchased towels and two mats to match the delicate color. It was a silly thing, but every time she was in her bathroom, she felt a little thrill of pride at the décor.

It made her happy. While she allowed that feeling to resonate with her as she dried herself off, a renewed sense of self started to take root. Whether or not a few outstanding situations in her life were spiraling, she was still in control. She’d made this house a home, and she’d created a good life for herself. She had a successful career, money in her savings, and, as had been made evident tonight, good friends. And she’d done it
all
without a man, real or fake, by her side.

No matter what ended up happening between her and Adam, she was going to be fine. Humiliated if this ruse blew up in her face? Yes. Heartbroken when it inevitably ended badly? Yes. Destroyed beyond repair? No. She’d work with whatever pieces she had left of herself when this thing was over to rebuild the rest.

After grabbing the hair dryer, Jane flipped the switch on and bent over to dry her hair. Just as she was getting into a groove of separating pieces and blowing the dryer from root to tip, everything in the house went dark and silent.

Shit.

Jane didn’t have time or patience to deal with this; she also didn’t have a choice. As she walked out of the bathroom, she put her arms through her robe and pulled the belt tight around her waist before looping it to hold it in place. While moving through the darkened house, Jane was careful to watch her steps. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d stubbed her toe as she’d stumbled out to reset the circuit breaker.

A shiver ran through her as she opened the back door. The mountain air always grew cold at night, and the fact that she was wearing only a thin, silk robe and her hair was still wet didn’t help—it only multiplied the chill factor. She rushed down the two steps to lean precariously over the porch railing and open the steel box, only vaguely aware of the back door closing because she was so focused on the task at hand. It didn’t register to her consciousness until she completed her task, flipped the switch, and turned to go back inside.

An uneasy feeling swept over her when she came face-to-face with the closed door. The feeling magnified when she tried the handle and it didn’t budge.

Seriously?!

Frustration boiled up inside her. All she wanted to do was take a shower, pack, wait up for her nana and papa, and try to get a few hours of sleep before she had to leave in the morning. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently.
Her inner voice, which sounded a lot like Nikki, answered.

Okay, she would just go around to the front door and pray that Adam didn’t see her sneaking around in her robe. With a plan in place, Jane stepped down, and the silky material covering her pulled taut. Her eyes darted down to see that the bottom of her robe was caught in the door.

No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.

She tugged on the silken cloth, and tears welled up in her eyes when she realized that it was good and stuck. Changing her tactic, she violently jiggled the door handle. She even put all of her weight into trying to force her way in by jamming her shoulder against the solid oak door. After several failed attempts, and what she was sure would end up being a nasty bruise, she came to the conclusion that the door wasn’t going to budge.

Unfortunately, there would be no sneaking around to the front of the house; she was stuck in place just like her robe. She couldn’t take it off to free herself because she was naked underneath it. Upon scanning the area around her for anything that might aid her in getting out of her predicament, she almost squealed when she saw her pruning shears. It was like she’d found a winning lottery ticket.

Her palms were sweaty when she picked them up and they almost slipped out of her hand. If that happened, she could only imagine the newspaper headlines:
Woman Stuck in Door Stabs Herself in the Foot and Bleeds to Death
. Okay, maybe she was being dramatic, but those shears were sharp.

After gathering the fabric in a fist, Jane cut through the silk of her favorite robe. Long ago, she’d learned that, in the game of life, sacrifices had to be made. In this case, the casualty was the robe she’d had since college. Once she was freed from the confines of the captured material, Jane hightailed it around the side of the house and up the front walkway so fast that she was sure she could have given the Road Runner a run for his money.

Unfortunately, her speed didn’t assist her in getting inside her house. The front door was locked, thanks to Adam’s lecture on the importance of locking the deadbolt every time she entered the house.

Adam
. The only other soul within rock-throwing distance.

One cursory glance across the street revealed that his truck was in the driveway and the light in his garage was on. He was most likely working out. Images of his rippled, bare chest as he lay on his weight bench and bench-pressed the bar above his head flashed her in head. She’d had the pleasure of witnessing him in all of his workout glory, and that move was, by far, her favorite. It had only happened once. After that, he’d worked out with the door closed. But, oh boy, once was more than enough.

Shaking her head, she tried to push that vivid imagery to the back recesses of her mind and focus on the crisis at hand. She needed to get into her house. If Adam would let her use the phone, then she could call a locksmith.

Great plan. Go, Team Jane!

Tiny, loose rocks from the unforgiving gravel beneath her shoeless feet dug into her sensitive skin as she clumsily made her way to Adam’s house.

Note to self: always put on slippers when resetting the breaker box.

Amended note to self: always bring keys when resetting the breaker box.

A tremor ran down Jane’s spine when she reached the side door to his garage. She wasn’t sure if it had to do with the temperature or the fact that she was about ninety percent certain Adam was half naked behind that door. From what she’d observed, he didn’t wear a shirt while working out in his at-home gym.
Score
.

She swallowed over a large lump that had formed in her throat as she forced herself to knock. This might have been embarrassing, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. Plus, other than waiting outside in only her robe for her grandparents to finish up their night of world domination at the Bingo tables, she didn’t really have a plan B.

Jane took a deep breath as her knuckles bounced off the garage door.

When there was no answer, she knocked harder. After what felt like forever, but was most likely only a minute, the door opened and Jane was met with not only a shirtless Adam, but a sweaty one as well. Locking her knees was her only hope of not buckling under the weight of his sexiness.

Her eyes roamed up his muscled chest, past the lips she knew felt so good against her own, to his intent stare. She tried to speak, but it came out as a breathless plea.

“Can I use your phone?”

Okay, not what she had planned on saying, but she didn’t pass out, and that was a win in her book.

*