The Place I Belong (26 page)

“Fine.”

“I hear Satchmo’s doing great.” He wanted to take it back as soon as he said it, because it would indicate that he’d talked to Hannah before he’d called Matt.

Matt didn’t appear to connect the dots, and his voice took on a note of eagerness. “Yeah, Doctor Linden couldn’t find any serious symptoms and he’s eating grass now. I think he’s going to be okay.”

“That’s good news.” Adam turned toward the window again. “Matt, I met one of your cousins today, a really nice woman named Ellen O’Brien. She was a McNally before she married her husband Pat.”

Matt was silent.

Adam kept going. “They’re a little older than I am, and they live outside Boston. Ellen works for an organization that helps at-risk children. She bakes a mean scone too. Pat’s a librarian.”

Still no comment.

Adam looked down at the geometric pattern in the carpeting. “I thought you’d like to have more family than just me,” he said in a low voice. He didn’t add that he never wanted his son be left completely alone with a stranger again.

“Mom said they were all in Ireland.”

Adam had forgotten that wrinkle in the story. “Your mom may not have known about Ellen because her married name was different. They’re your second cousins, once-removed, so not really close family.”

“How did
you
find them?”

What was the right answer to that question? “A lot of research,” he hedged.

“How long have you known about them?”

“A week or so. I wanted to meet them before I told you.”

“In case they weren’t interested.” The rawness in his son’s tone clawed at Adam’s throat.

“No, I wanted to make sure they would be a positive presence in your life,” he said. “There are some relatives who can be worse than no relatives.”

Silence stretched through the phone connection. “I invited them to come down for Thanksgiving,” Adam said. “They really want to meet you.”

He held his breath.

“I thought it was just going to be you and me,” Matt said, his voice so low Adam had to strain to hear it.

The implication of the words sank in slowly. Had Matt
wanted
it to be just the two of them? Something warm and feathered fluttered in Adam’s chest. Before he could think about the complexities of the arrangements he’d have to make for The Aerie, he said, “How about you and I do something alone together over the Thanksgiving weekend after the O’Briens leave? Maybe go away somewhere.”

“Maybe.” Adam could practically hear the shrug in his son’s voice. But Matt hadn’t said no.

He wondered how many strings he’d have to pull to swim with the dolphins in Disney World on a holiday weekend. Or maybe that was a bad idea, because it would remind Matt of his mother. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, trying to figure out what was right and what was wrong. “I’ll see you after school tomorrow, so we can talk about it then. I just wanted you to know there are McNallys who care about you.”

He heard what might have been a strangled sob. “Yeah. Great,” Matt said.

“Good night, Matt.” He hesitated before deciding to go for broke. “I love you.”

“Yeah. Bye…”

Disappointment drained the life from Adam. He sagged down onto the foot of the bed.

Then Matt spoke one more word that set the wings of hope pumping again. “…Dad.”

Chapter 23

H
ANNAH MOVED THROUGH
her morning
appointments
with half her mind on her patients and the other half on her conversation with Adam. He felt ashamed of defending the waitress, while she found it admirable. What disturbed her was his confession that his father had hit both Adam and his mother. She kept picturing Adam, looking just like Matt, cowering away from the hulking man who was supposed to protect his son and instead had his arm drawn back to strike him. A shudder ran through her as she practically felt the blow land. How could Adam believe he would ever do
something
like that?

Just as Hannah slipped into her office to wolf down the sandwich Estelle had ordered for her, Tim showed up in the doorway, his hands shoved in his lab coat pockets. “Paul Taggart called while you were in with Brillo. He wants you stop by on your way home this afternoon if you’re free. He said any time after four was fine.”

She tried to read Tim’s expression to see if the news was good or bad, but his placid countenance gave nothing away. He noticed her scrutiny. “He didn’t tell me anything. Lawyer-client confidentiality.”

“Right. I wasn’t sure if lawyers stuck to those rules in Sanctuary.” She glanced at her computer screen. “My last appointment should be over about 4:30. Do I need to call and tell him?”

“Nope. Just show up on his doorstep.” Tim’s expression turned serious. “I don’t know what you and Paul are working on, but I can take a guess. Whatever happens, you know I back you one hundred percent.”

Hannah looked at her giant of an employer and felt a glow of comfort. Tim could carry any burden on those massive shoulders, and his unflappable personality would be an anchor in a storm. “Thanks, boss. It’s good to have you on my side.”

He nodded and stepped out of the room. She’d just unwrapped her sandwich when she heard Adam’s voice in the hallway. Its rich timbre danced along her skin like the brush of his fingertips. All he said was, “I know where her office is,” and her breathing sped up. She stood up to take a firm grip on the back of her desk chair, trying to get an equally firm grip on her response.

“Hannah!” He wore his black leather jacket over black jeans and an open-necked black shirt. His presence was magnetic.

He stopped halfway to her desk, clearly trying to gauge her reaction. She couldn’t bear his hesitation. Releasing her chair, she circled the desk and walked into his arms, feeling his exhalation of relief whiffle through her hair.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me after what I told you,” he murmured before he lowered his head for a kiss.

She wound her arms around his neck and dove into the sensation of his lips on hers, trying to pour both regret and comfort into her touch. “What you told me just made me want to see you more,” she said when they both came up for air.

His mouth twisted and she saw his mood go somber. For a moment he seemed about to say something, but then he shook his head and brushed his fingers down her cheek. “How much time do you have for lunch?”

“An hour. I was going to check on Satchmo.”

He framed her face with his hands and tilted it up. “Come to my house instead. I’ll cook for you. And maybe do a few other things.”

Her already sparking nerve endings nearly combusted at
the sexy growl of his last few words. “How can I turn that
down?”

She grabbed her barn jacket from the coat rack. Before she could swing it over her back, he took it and held it as she slid her arms into the sleeves. When he lifted her hair to gently tug it out from under the collar, she closed her eyes to appreciate his touch against the sensitive nape of her neck.

Out in the parking lot, his Maserati stood gleaming in the thin November sunlight.

Hannah frantically brushed pet hair off her khakis as Adam swung open the door of the beautiful car. She slipped into the rich, leather seat with a twinge of guilt. “I feel underdressed.”

Leaning in, he said, “Just the opposite. You have on far too many clothes.”

She couldn’t resist tugging one of the thick strands of his hair. “Patience.”

His eyes lit with desire. “Not my long suit when it comes
to yo
u.”

She ran her fingertips over the polished wood on the dashboard, trying to quell the anticipation humming through her body. It clouded her brain when she had things that needed to be discussed. For now, though, she was going to put those aside. Maybe it was just an excuse for her to make love with him, but she felt that intimacy was the key to knocking down the walls around his heart. The closer she could get to him, the better chance she had of changing his mind about himself.

As they pulled out of the lot, Hannah said, “Tim says Paul wants to see me. Do you know what’s going on?”

Adam shook his head. “I felt I’d done enough damage, so I bowed out.”

“Damage?” She was incredulous. “You’re the one who made me understand the past affects the whole fabric of our lives. If a thread gets twisted, it fouls up all the threads that are woven in after it.” She looked sideways to study the angles of his profile.

“Sometimes I get lucky,” he said.

“No, you draw on your own experiences to help other people understand theirs. It’s a brave and generous thing to do.”

“I’m just around when people are ready to face their own demons.”

She pressed her lips together in frustration. Then the truth about her feelings seeped into her brain. She’d found the strength to put Ward behind her because of this man. Whatever lingering emotional echoes there had been from her broken engagement had been silenced by her relationship with Adam.

She sucked in a sudden breath as the revelation blossomed. It wasn’t just sex, and it wasn’t some transference of her affection for Matt. It was love, pure and simple. She’d gone and fallen in love with this complex, damaged man.

Staring through the windshield without seeing the scenery, she tried to reconcile the way her heart both swelled and quailed at the knowledge. It was glorious to be in love with Adam, but it was like standing on the edge of a shadowy gorge with a bungee cord wrapped around her ankle. If she jumped it would be a hell of a ride, but she didn’t know if she would hit the bottom before the bungee cord snapped her back up.

“You’ve gotten quiet,” Adam said.

She pulled herself away from the lip of the abyss she was staring into. “Sorry. Just wondering what Paul might have to tell me.”

“Knowing Paul it will be good news,” Adam said. “He’s exceptional at his job and he’s very well-connected.” He threw her a reassuring glance. “He’ll get your reputation polished until it sparkles again.”

She didn’t want to think about the past anymore, not with the discovery she’d just made about her present…and the decisions she needed to make about her future. “So what are you serving for lunch?”

“It depends on how long I have to cook it,” he said, taking one hand off the steering wheel to stroke along the inside of
her thig
h.

She choked on a moan as his fingers slid higher up the seam of her trousers, getting closer to the place she wanted him to touch. Then he withdrew, grabbing the steering wheel to negotiate a sharp bend in the road.

“How about something from the microwave?” she said, squirming against the seat in frustration.

“Not even if hell freezes over,” he said, with a look of
horror
.
“But I can throw together a meal in five minutes flat, if
necessary
.”

By the time he swept up the driveway to his front door, she thought she would spontaneously combust.

He came around to open her door, offering his hand to help
her out of the low-slung sports car. As soon as she was u
pright, h
e
pinned her against the Maserati, kissing her while he let his hands roam up and down her body, insinuating them under her jacket and then her silk tee-shirt with an almost desperate determination. His fingers were slightly chilled, contrasting deliciously with her heated skin. Being sandwiched between the cold, rigid metal and his warm, lean body forced the breath from her lungs, but she felt no need for oxygen.

“I thought about you all the way back from Boston,” he
murmured
.

She tried to slip her hands between them to start unbuttoning his shirt, but he pulled away. “Too cold out here,” he muttered, twining his arm around her waist and pulling her toward the house, half-carrying her to keep up with his long, impatient strides.

He unlocked the door and swept her through. Hannah stopped short. Trace sat in front of them, his triangular ears ramrod straight, his tail sweeping back and forth across the floor. He quivered with the intensity of his desire to launch himself at them in greeting but he kept his butt down on
the grou
nd.

Adam gave the dog a quick pat on the head. “Trace, go to—” he began.

“Just a minute,” Hannah said, unable to resist the eager dog. She knelt down to massage Trace’s ruff while he licked her face. She threw a teasing look up at Adam. “Trace has more self-
control
than you do.”

“Is that so?” Adam’s tone dropped into silky dangerousness. “Let’s see how good your self-control is.”

He reached down and took her hand, drawing her to her feet as he commanded Trace to go to his bed. The dog padded slowly across the living room with a pitiful backward look.

Adam threaded his fingers into her hair and pulled her head back so he could drag his lips down her throat to the V of her neckline, where he flicked his tongue into the hollow of her cleavage. He ran his other hand up under the hem of her shirt and found her already taut nipple, thumbing it through the flimsy lace of her bra.

“Ahhh, yes, there,” she said, letting her head fall backward into his hand and forgetting all about Trace.

He moved his mouth back up the side of her neck to nip at her earlobe, making her squeak at the jolt it sent zipping through the center of her body. He found the front fastener of her bra and flipped it open. Her breast spilled into his waiting palm, the contact of delicate nipple with calloused male skin exquisitely erotic.

He massaged her in gentle but insistent circles. She arched into him, straddling one of his thighs and gasping as the friction intensified the building tension created by his touch.

He blew out a breath against her ear, making her shiver. “Patience,” he repeated back to her.

“Hmm.” She pulled his shirt out of his waistband and walked her fingers up the six-pack of his abdomen to flatten her hands beside his nipples, letting her thumbs brush across the small but hardening peaks. He shuddered under her touch and she smirked.

Lifting his head, he caught her expression. “So you think two can play the same game?” he said, his eyes gleaming with banked arousal.

“I figure there will be no losers, no matter who wins.” She brought her thigh up to rub against the erection straining at
his jeans
.

“Maybe we need to set a forfeit for the loser,” he said. She could tell he was fighting back a groan.

“Like what?” She ran her hands around to his back and thrust them down under his jeans and briefs to palm his buttocks.

He moaned before lowering his head to tongue her nipple. An arrow of heat and desire shot straight from her breast to the coiled yearning between her legs. “Adam!” She dug her fingers into the muscles of his behind.

He straightened. “A massage.”

“What?” Her brain wouldn’t process the word.

He ran the edge of his teeth up along her jawline, stopping beside her ear. “The winner gives the loser a massage,” he
murmured
.

“Deal,” she said, picturing the length of his nude body on the black satin sheets she’d imagined on his bed, while she kneaded the lines and curves of muscle under his golden skin. “Wait, shouldn’t the
loser
give the
winner
a massage?”

He pressed his thigh between her legs, making her hips pulse involuntarily. “How about if we make it winner’s choice?” His lowered voice was like liquid sex pouring in her ear. “Because I want to put my hands on every inch of your body.”