A crash sounded from the kitchen, and Adam jumped.
Mr. Bryant got up. “I better go check on them. Talk to James for a while, will you, son? I’m sure you guys have a lot to catch up on with the business.”
Silence hung in the air for a moment before Adam asked James about his current mission. Last he’d heard, their platoon was providing security for the civilian villages surrounding Kabul. While James spoke about false alarms and friendly fire, Adam’s guilt grew.
Through the doorway leading from the dining room to the kitchen, he had a clear view of Mel at the counter, could see the way those jeans of hers pulled tight across her butt as she bent over to pick up something she’d dropped. He remembered the way her legs had bounced nervously under the table at dinner earlier, the crazy surge of electricity inside him at just being near her. He’d wanted to place his hand on her thigh to calm her, reassure her.
He hadn’t dared, of course. Bad enough he’d kissed her the other night.
Touching would be way out of line.
James continued to talk about the native interpreters and gossip from the guys at the base, and Adam laughed or grunted when appropriate, but he couldn’t get his mind off Mel. He ran his hand over the back of his neck and sighed. This was bad.
Since Friday night, every time he closed his eyes, he pictured her in the hallway, eyes shut, expression dreamy, lips parted from his kiss. He’d run out of there like the coward he was, racing all the way home, praying the slap of wind on his face would drive some sense into his brain.
It hadn’t. He’d lain awake all night, body aching. Done the same last night, too. Today had been sheer torture, having her so close and wanting her so bad, but knowing she was totally off limits.
“What’s your deal, dude?” James said over the phone line finally, his tone abrupt. “You listening to me at all?”
“What?” Adam cleared his throat. “Yes. Why?”
“I asked you a question three times and got no response. What’s got you so riled?”
There it was. Adam’s chance to put things right, to come clean and tell his best bud the truth. But if he took it now, this would all be over. He wasn’t ready for that. He wished there were more time for him and Mel. He wished he’d never agreed to help with this project of hers. He wished he were a better man, an honest man, but at the moment, he wasn’t, couldn’t be.
“Nothing,” Adam said. The lie felt oily, jabbing like a knife between his ribs. He added a dash of truth to make it more palatable. “Just tired. Sorry.”
“It’s Mel, isn’t it?” James said, and Adam nearly went into cardiac arrest. “Please tell me her new makeover isn’t as hideous as I’m imagining.”
“No.” This time he meant it. “She looks great. Seriously. Really beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” James seemed to consider this a moment. “Do I need to ask you to keep an extra eye on her until I get home?”
“No.” Yes. From myself. Adam coughed. “I mean, of course I’ll look out for her. That’s what friends do, right? You can count on me.”
The vow cut deep and went in direct violation of the deal he’d struck with Mel, but he was used to playing both sides to survive. It’s how Adam had managed for the majority of his childhood. Besides, as long as he kept things from getting out of hand again with Mel, and his heart securely locked away, they could make this work.
“Cool.” James went on, unaware of the turmoil bubbling hot through Adam’s system. “None of the local guys are good enough for my little sis. Hate to see her end up with some player like us, right?”
“Right.” Adam did his best to laugh and failed miserably. The invisible noose around his neck tightened another notch. He’d crossed the line with Mel already, then lied to her brother. It was hard to breathe now, hard to sit there and pretend everything was all right, when deep down it wasn’t, might never be again.
As if summoned from his thoughts, Mel walked back into the dining room, and her sunny smile wavered as she looked from Adam to the phone then back again. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” James said, his tone even and light. “Right, dude?”
“Yep. We’re good.” Adam pushed to his feet, restless. “I, uh, have some paperwork to finish up at the garage for Monday.”
“What? You’re leaving already?” Mrs. Bryant came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “But we were going to play games.”
Loneliness ached inside Adam. As un-bad-boy as it was, he’d loved game nights, but he couldn’t stay here now. Not with Mel looking like his every fantasy come to life and the lies he’d just told James and his world falling apart at the seams. He backed slowly toward the front door. “Afraid so. Thanks again for inviting me to dinner, Mrs. Bryant. Great seeing you all again.” He raised his chin toward the phone on the table. “Stay safe, buddy. I’ll talk to you when you come home next month, James.”
“I’ll walk you to the door,” Mel said, following him down the hall, away from the others.
“No.” He stopped in his tracks. “I mean. Go spend time with your family. We’ll see each other again soon.”
“When?” She gave him a suspicious look. “You haven’t called yet.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I got busy at work. But I’ll call tomorrow, I promise. Tuesday at the latest.” The doorknob felt cold against his palm. “See you, Mel.”
Adam rushed down the porch steps to the sidewalk to his bike parked at the curb, unable to get his best friend’s face out of his head. If James, who was thousands of miles away, sensed something was up here, then how obvious was it to the people who saw him every day? Man, he had it bad for Mel, and that wasn’t good. He didn’t want to hurt her. Or her family.
And he never wanted to break his promise to James or lie to his best friend again.
He owed the guy too much to do that.
Most of all, he absolutely didn’t want to fall in love. Not with Mel.
As he cranked the Harley’s engine, James’s words reverberated in his mind.
Hate to see her end up with some player like us…
Adam’s reputation in the romance department was less than stellar, to put it kindly.
You’re not good enough for her.
Except when he was with Mel, she made him feel like he was good enough. She made him feel like he could be the man she thought he was. Someone strong and worthy and brave.
Someone deserving.
Then he’d gone and made that stupid promise to James. To look after Mel, to take care of her, to keep her from falling in with the wrong sort of guy. A player, like him.
Sure, people appreciated his service for their country, but no one wanted their daughters dating him, that was for damn sure. As he pulled away from the curb in a cloud of smoke and a squeal of tires, Adam felt more torn than he’d ever been in his life.
He didn’t want to betray James, and he definitely didn’t want to hurt Mel. But she was doing this either way, becoming who she was meant to be. Whether he helped or not. She was safer with him, from that standpoint. He knew the rules.
Adam stopped at a red light and rubbed his face. At least he’d thought he knew them, but now he wasn’t so sure anymore. What scared him most was how far beyond a casual fling his feelings for Mel had already gone, without his knowledge or consent. Beyond her laugh or her smile. Beyond her killer body and her magnificent brain. Beyond the way she looked at him and the way she made him feel like he stood ten feet tall whenever they were together.
Lord above, she made him feel smart and respected and sexy, too.
He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened, if ever.
The light turned green, and he sped forward, trying to keep it all in perspective. He’d rein in his heart now, and it would all be good. It wasn’t too late. It wasn’t love. He just wanted more time to appreciate this…this…whatever this was between them, before it was over. Somehow, the past week or so, Mel had gone past being James’s little sister and become a viv
acious woman he wanted to know better. That was all.
And as much as Adam didn’t want anything messing up his friendship with James, he couldn’t let go of his connection with Mel. Not yet.
He’d keep it light, fun, because that’s the deal he’d made.
Once this was over, he’d walk away, let her go.
Because that’s what she wanted. Because that’s what he’d promised.
Because that’s the only way any of this would work out in the end.
Chapter Nine
Mel bit into her turkey-and-Swiss sandwich at lunch on Monday and chewed as she scrolled down the page on her computer screen. Adam still hadn’t called, but she wanted to be ready when he did. And her search for clubs in Indy had been quite interesting. She remembered several of the names from conversations between her brother and Adam, and there was one in particular…
The Tipsy Wench. That’s the one she’d heard about most. That’s where she’d ask Adam to take her the next time she talked to him. Whenever that might be.
He’d been acting squirrely again when he’d left her parents’ house yesterday. Wild and wary and way too cagey. She’d let him go, of course, because what else could she do with her mom and dad and James all listening in nearby. But man, oh man, she’d wanted to go after him. Especially after the way he’d kept staring at her butt in those jeans and how his gaze had flickered down the front of her top whenever she’d leaned over to hand him something.
Yep, he was definitely interested, even if he was too stubborn to admit it.
She hit print on the name and address of the Indy pub she’d chosen, then walked over to their ancient secondhand printer to grab it. The automatic doors at the library entrance swished open. She spoke without looking over to see who’d come in. “Welcome to the Point Beacon Public Library. Please let me know if there’s anything I can help you find.”
“How about my sanity?” Adam’s voice had her whirling around fast, clutching the printer paper to her chest.
Eyes wide, Mel forced a smile she hoped didn’t look as nervous as she felt. Adam had never come to her library before, at least not that she remembered. “Hey! This is a surprise.”
She was going for easy and nonchalant, but the words sounded jittery instead. “I thought you were going to call.”
He shrugged, drawing her attention to his broad shoulders, the play of muscle beneath the soft dark cotton of his T-shirt. “Figured face-to-face was better.”
Face-to-face was way better and gave her all sorts of naughty ideas. She swallowed hard around the lump of want in her throat. The room seemed warmer than it had moments earlier, and the atmosphere in the library changed from subdued to sizzling. Her gaze moved from his shoulders to his biceps as he ran a hand through his hair. The hint of a tattoo peeked out from under the edge of his sleeve, the United States Army insignia. James had the same one, same spot, too. There was a trace of grease under Adam’s nails and streaks of dirt on his faded jeans, which only highlighted his strong thighs and trim hips. And those eyes. They seemed bluer today, his small smile sexier, if that were possible.
God give me strength not to jump him right now.
Mel licked her lips and didn’t miss the way his gaze tracked the tiny movement.
Because they’d been short a volunteer or two today, Mel had stayed in for lunch and eaten at the circulation desk to make sure they were covered for any patrons who might need help. Technically, food or drinks weren’t allowed in the library, but a girl needed sustenance.
Adam glanced at her plastic containers and frowned. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch.”
“It’s fine.” She gave another look around to confirm she and Adam were alone. “What did you need?”
“I, uh…” He seemed a bit flustered, which only made her heart flutter anew. He shuffled his feet, then peered at her computer screen. “Are you looking up the Tipsy Wench?”
“Yeah. I remembered you and James talking about it.” She turned back to minimize her computer screen and felt Adam come up behind her. Only staff were usually allowed behind the circulation desk, but Adam had never been one to follow the rules. The hint of forbidden made Mel shiver with need. He rested his palms on either side of her on the edge of the counter, caging her in again like he had that night at the bar. His warm, solid front pressed lightly against her back, and his clean sandalwood scent surrounded her once more. Mel’s breath quickened, and she nearly swooned at the thought of him pressing against her, skin to skin.
Yep. She’d been reading way too many romance novels again.
“Is this where you want me to take you?” His warm words tickled the shell of her ear.
It took Mel a minute to realize he was asking about the bar and not…other things. She’d never look at the circulation desk the same way again. Not trusting herself to speak, Mel nodded.
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
Was it her imagination, or had his hips pressed against her more firmly when he’d said that? She closed her eyes, breathing deep to calm her raging pulse. “Yes. I’m ready.”
He didn’t respond for a couple beats, and she turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder. The move must’ve caught him off guard because his lips brushed her cheek, they were standing so close.
Adam stepped back, crossing his arms. “I’m still not sure this is a good idea, Mel. The Tipsy Wench isn’t exactly an upstanding kind of place.”
“You promised to help me hook up. Where do you suggest we do that? The frozen food aisle at the grocery store?” She matched his guarded body position, not giving an inch, desire still thrumming through her veins. “If you don’t want to go with me, that’s fine. I’m sure I can talk Lilly into it.”
“No.” Adam shook his head, his frown deepening. “You’re not going there with Lilly.”
“Huh.” She made a show of considering his statement. “Last time I checked you weren’t my boss.”
“You’re right. I’m your partner in this damned project, and that means I should have a say in how we progress.” His blue eyes turned stormy. “I don’t like the idea of you in some bar alone.”
Adrenaline and anger surged through her bloodstream. Mel closed the distance between them, irritation rising. She was tired of him denying the chemistry between them and tired of trying to live up to what everyone else thought she should be. Mel wanted to do what she wanted for once. “Yeah? Well, if you’re so worried, then I’d suggest you come with me.”
To her shock, he gave a curt nod. “I will.”
Her stomach went into free fall. After days of dancing around each other, he gave in that easily? What the heck?
Before she could ask, he continued. “I’ll be your silent protector, keeping the riffraff away. We can play some darts, have a few beers. It’ll be fun.”
Ugh. Fun. Mel groaned and turned away. “Forget it. Watching paint dry sounds more exciting. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“No, you need advice, right?” Adam dipped his head to catch her eye. “C’mon, Mel. It would make me feel better knowing someone was there to watch over you.”
“Why? Because James asked you to?”
“No. Because I want to be there.”
“Seriously? Since when? Yesterday you couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Same thing Friday night when we kissed. Look, I get you and my brother are friends, and the last thing I want to do is cause problems between the two of you, but—”
“Don’t worry about James and me. This will all be over by the time he gets home anyway. He’ll never have to know.”
The truth of his statement dampened her enthusiasm a bit, but she refused to let this go. He’d agreed to take her out. To a bar. Not officially a date, but closer than they’d gotten so far. The thought thrilled her way more than it should. “Okay. We’ll go to the Tipsy Wench together.”
Adam’s tense posture visibly relaxed. “When?”
“This Friday,” Mel said, butterflies swarming inside her. “Pick me up
at six. I think we should probably get hotel rooms for the night, too. It’s a long way home, and it’ll probably be late by the time we’re done. Smarter to stay in Indy and return the next morning.”
He nodded and walked out without another word, leaving her to stare after him.
Friday could definitely not come soon enough.
…
The classic cover band in the bar rocked out their version of “Enter Sandman” by Metallica, and Adam took another swig of his dark lager, torn between staying and leaving. While he’d come to the Tipsy Wench on occasion with James before they’d enlisted, and now with the guys from Victory Vets, this wasn’t his usual type of hangout for dates. It was a bit too rough and trashy for polite conversation—or conversation at all, really. It used to be a cool neighborhood hangout, more pub than club. Now, though, it was a trendy dive-bar nightmare, filled by hipsters with man buns and tight jeans, wannabe Goths, and metalheads in heavy spikes and chains, lots of fauxhawks and black clothes and eyeliner. So. Much. Eyeliner.
Mel sat beside him on a stool, taking it all in like a kid on their first trip to Disneyland. She’d wanted Adam to stay out of sight in a corner, but he’d insisted on being at the bar where he could keep an eye on everything. Yes, he was supposed to be here as her coach, but the idea of one of these guys approaching her—or worse, her approaching them—made his head pound. He might not be an actual scary biker, but he could sure as hell fool these idiots into thinking he was. And if that kept some random dude from messing with his Mel, so be it.
“What about him?” she asked, pointing toward a guy across the room with hair that stood at least two feet high and a painful-looking fishhook through his lip. “He seems interesting.”
Adam could think of another word for it but didn’t go there. Instead, he shook his head. “Not him. He’s wearing more makeup than you.”
“Oh.” Mel frowned. “He’s kind of cute, though. Besides, I do like a bad boy.”
How to Seduce a Bad Boy Page 9