The Life She Wants (12 page)

“It's okay, Emmie,” he said.

“It's really not, Adam. You almost kissed me. You shouldn't do that. I'm damaged. I still can't believe what I allowed myself to be sucked into.”

“You were twenty-four. And you were a great deal wiser by the time you were thirty. Give yourself a break.”

“Rosemary always said, ‘It's just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor man.' She was full of sayings. After Richard's death, leaving me holding the mess of his crimes, leaving me the suspect, you know what my darling stepmother said? ‘If you marry for money, you'll earn every cent.'”

“I never liked her,” Adam said.

“She's got some great sayings, though.”

“We're going to get through this, Emma,” he said.

“I wanted you to kiss me,” she said.

He had to work at keeping his heart from exploding.

“I wanted to be kissed and the only person in the world I wanted to kiss me was you,” she said. “But, Adam, you shouldn't because I'm broken. I don't want to hurt anyone who gets close to me. We have to keep it friends. And Riley... Listen, she was totally professional, but she made it pretty clear... She wouldn't like the idea of us being close.”

“You think I give a shit what Riley wants?” he asked.

“Well, I do. And you should. She's your family. I'm going to keep seeing the counselor for a little while. Maybe she's got a shortcut or two. I've got a few good years left and I'd like to live them happily.”

He smiled. A few good years? She was all of thirty-four. She probably felt like she'd wasted a lifetime already. “We'll get through this, Em. You're starting a whole new life on Monday. Cleaning toilets and mopping floors. Wowser.”

“I'm going to make Riley proud of me,” she said. “Don't tell her I said that.”

“I don't tell anyone anything.”

* * *

Emma didn't necessarily feel better about laying all that on Adam, but she felt cleaner. More honest. He should know—she might not have been complicit in Richard's crimes but she was certainly a participant in ending up right where she was. She fell for every little trick he had. And before it was all over, he made sure she knew it. Snatches of their dialogue in the final weeks might echo forever, never leave her, might never give her peace.

Adam reached across the small table and held her hand. “One thing you're not going to do—you're not going to worry about taking care of me. I don't need you to protect me. All right?”

She knew he was strong. She knew he was smart. But was he wise to what association with a man like Richard had done to her? “I'm not innocent anymore, Adam.”

“Not guilty, either. And you're a survivor. I know you are.”

“Really?” she asked. “Is that so?”

He chuckled but not with humor. “Your father's death? Rosemary? God, a few years of her would damage anyone! You pulled yourself together after Jock. Picked up what you could carry and went to New York—one of the biggest, scariest cities in the country.” He drank the last of his coffee. “I guess now I'll never see it.”

“Why is that?”

“No way you're going back there,” he said. “And I'm not going back there without you.” He briefly looked at their check.

“I'm afraid you're already getting in over your head.”

He laughed and pulled out his wallet.

“Let's at least split the check,” she said.

“Forget it. I'm not in over my head, Emmie. You don't scare me at all. And you've been through a lot, but I know people who have been through worse. Hell, I know people who have served in combat several times. They have issues, just like you, and they're working on them. It's very tough, too.”

She was feeling a little desperate. He was clearly forging ahead, not taking seriously how bad she might be for him, and she wasn't going to be able to hold him back. She adored him for wanting her still. And she feared for him. “When I asked him why he'd kept a mistress, he said he needed someone to fuck that he could talk to!”

“It's hard to believe how pathetic he was,” Adam said, peeling off bills to put with the check. “The dumb shit,” he added, shaking his head.

“I accused him of being a common thief and he slapped me and told me there was nothing common about what he'd done!”

“He
hit
you?” he asked, his green eyes darkening dangerously.

“Just the once,” she said more quietly.

“I kind of want to dig him up and beat the shit out of him, but dead is dead. I bet he didn't get away with anything this time. I may not go to church much anymore but I still believe there's a heaven and a hell.” He put his wallet away. “About ready, Emma?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Sure.”

Walking to the car, his hand on the small of her back, she gave it one more try. “Adam, you heard me, right? I'm coming out of a really dysfunctional situation. Beyond dysfunctional. Sick. Really sick. And it could follow me for quite a while. You don't want to be too close if—”

He stopped walking when they were almost to the car. He put his hands on her waist and looked into her eyes. “Emma, I've been waiting for you to come back for sixteen years. I'm not going to run scared now, just because some insane asshole did his best to leave you wounded. I told you—we can get through this.” He leaned toward her and gave her lips a sweet kiss. “You don't have to warn me anymore. You didn't have to warn me in the first place. Now I'm going to take you home. And if there's a God, you're going to invite me in.”

“I worry about the concept of us,” she said. “I don't want you to be collateral damage when the detritus of Richard's crimes sprinkles down on me.”

“I understand completely,” he said. “Finished now?”

“Don't be a fool,” she said.

“I won't.”

* * *

All the way home from the restaurant, he talked to her softly of casual things, of the beauty of Napa, the way the cold drizzle of a Sonoma County winter had always made him crave soups and fires. She didn't have a fireplace of course, but he did. He was looking forward to showing off his house—it was over fifty years old in a quiet tree-lined neighborhood and he'd enjoyed renovating it. He'd done most of the work himself, tearing up old carpet and installing hardwood floors, texturing and painting walls. “I focused on the four most important rooms—living room, kitchen, master and bath. The new kitchen is so beautiful it almost makes me want to cook.”

“Don't be hasty,” she said.

He was seducing her with ordinary things, as if he knew how starved she'd been for a reality she understood—soups and fires, rainy days in a home that hugged her, the love of a good man.

After their lunch they went to her house. He held her hand the entire drive and when she let him into her little bungalow, he glanced around and said, “You've been busy.”

“Just a little settling in,” she said.

“Come here,” he said, locking her door behind them and pulling her into his arms.

His lips came down on hers with an urgency and hunger she hadn't been prepared for. After one brief moment of surprise, she matched his passion with the surging need of her own. It wasn't just her need for intimacy because it had been so long but her need for it to be
him
.

Clothing was removed while they kissed. It seemed that it only took seconds for them to be in her bed, skin to skin, lips to lips. Emma hadn't felt the touch of loving hands in years. Adam's beautiful hands, his lips, his strong fingers, did the one thing she didn't think possible—took her away. Far away. She thought only of him, intoxicated by his scent, his taste, his body.

He was thoroughly beautiful. He had long, strong legs, muscled arms and shoulders, a smooth, hairless chest. With his thick brown hair, expressive brows, emerald-green eyes and strong jaw, he should probably be sculpted and put on display. For this moment in time he belonged only to her. And she to him.

She inhaled his breath, licked her way into his mouth, opened for him and welcomed him into her body. He was gentle and smooth, teasing her into a frenzy. He responded to her arousal with heat, finally taking her on a powerful ride that had her crying out his name as she came. And came. And came.

He joined her, softly whispering her name, his large frame shuddering, his mouth at her neck, his big hands in her hair. She trembled with the aftershock of orgasm and he chuckled, a deep rumble. He kissed her eyes, her ears, her chin, her lips. Her calm returned so slowly; he didn't leave her body, pushing into her softly, again and again. “Still worried about the concept of us?” he whispered in her ear.

“You drugged me,” she accused.

He pushed into her again. “A little bit. Damn, woman, I knew we'd be great together, but I didn't have enough imagination to know how great.”

They continued kissing, soft and deep and lovely. He moved inside her, filling her, rocking with her in a smooth, deep motion. It didn't take long before she was clutching at him, pushing against him, begging for more.

“I can't say no to you,” he whispered. “I have a feeling I'll never be able to say no to you. God, why would I even want to?”

“I didn't say no, either, did I?”

“More it is,” he whispered, pounding into her until they were both rising again, reaching for another mutual climax. The moment she started to clench and tremble around him, he went off like a rocket, a powerful blast that made her almost whimper in pleasure. And she finally collapsed under him.

Again he kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her lips, running his work-roughened hands all over her.

They were quiet for a while as their breathing evened and their bodies began to cool. He reached down to pull the duvet over them. Rolling onto his side, he brought her with him, gently holding her against him.

“Are you going to stay inside me forever?” she asked.

“Would that be inconvenient?” he asked. “Because it really feels like exactly where I should be.”

“Funny,” she said. “Feels that way to me, too.”

“Friendship with you has perks,” he said.

She was quiet for a moment. “Good,” she finally said.

He laughed. “I don't want to be friends, Emmie.”

“You don't?”

“Of course not. I don't share that with friends. There was nothing casual about that and you know it.”

“Oh?”

“Wasn't a friendly fuck for you, either,” he said. “That was some of the finest love I've ever made. Might be the absolute best ever.”

“You think?”

“I know,” he said.

She smiled. “I'm glad to hear that, even though it was probably not a good idea.”

He raised up, looking down at her. “I think it was the best idea I ever had.”

She couldn't keep from touching him, tenderly running her fingertips over the planes of his face. “I guess you're not going to come to your senses anytime soon...”

He shook his head. He gently brushed her hair back from her face. “You know how I feel. I think you've always known. Do you think you can talk me out of it?”

“Well, I thought I could...”

“You can't...”

She bit her lip and just looked into those fierce green eyes. She sighed. “Thank God,” she said.

He smiled at her.

“Could be problematic that I just slept with my new boss's brother...”

“None of Riley's business who I sleep with. None of her business who you sleep with, for that matter.”

“Do you think she'll agree with that?”

“Do you think I care?” he asked, raising a brow in question. “Come on,” he said, pulling her closer so she was nuzzling into his chest. “Enjoy the moment. You'll have plenty of time to worry later.”

She let herself be cuddled. “I do feel considerably more relaxed than I did a couple of hours ago.”

“There you go,” he said with a laugh. “God knows I do.” After a few minutes of silence he asked, “You going to sleep?”

“No. I'm afraid I'll wake up and find out it was just a dream.”

He kissed her forehead. “Nothing like that's going to happen. The bad dreams are over. The good dreams are just beginning.”

* * *

The rest of the weekend was ideal, the kind of perfect Emma had given up on. After lying around in bed for a couple of hours, Emma showered and primped. When she came out of her bathroom, Adam was puttering comfortably around her little kitchen, making tea and checking out the refrigerator, taking inventory. He wore his jeans, his shirt hanging open over that gorgeous chest, socks on his shoeless feet. He looked so delicious like that she wanted to take a bite out of him.

“If you want to go out for dinner, I'll take you out,” he said. “If I can talk you into staying in, I'll go get us something.”

“You want to stay in?”

He grinned at her. “Oh, yeah.”

Then his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the ID and picked up. “Hi, Mom.” He listened for a little while, nodding as though his mother might hear it. “You need me to fix that now?” A pause. “You did? I wish you wouldn't do that. I know it was irritating but what if you fell? All right, all right, I didn't mean to offend you, but really... Don't do it again, all right? Well, thanks, but I'm actually going out tonight so tomorrow I'll have errands and have to get ready for school. Oh, nothing too exciting.” He winked at Emma. “Just having a glass of wine with a lady friend. I don't think so, which is how I'd like to keep it for now. Listen, if you need me to help with those Christmas decorations... Jock is? Okay, I appreciate the pass and I'll get the lights up after school one day this week, so no ladders. Talk to you tomorrow? Great.”

He put the phone back in his pocket. “Her smoke alarm was beeping because the battery was dead and she climbed up on a stepladder in the stairwell and changed the battery. She's perfectly capable, but I hate thinking of her up on a ladder. That's what I'm for.” He made a face. “I change them regularly to keep her off the ladder.”