‘You’ve had a tough day.’
His laugh was short and humourless. ‘You could say that.’ His hand fell to his face and he rubbed at it, making her aware of how drawn he looked. How tired. ‘It doesn’t excuse my behaviour.’
Behind her, Faith heard footsteps.
‘We’re just off to bed, dear.’ Her mother gave her a wink. ‘Happy Christmas. See you tomorrow morning.’
As her parents disappeared down the corridor, Hope and Tom came up to her, yawning theatrically. A moment later they were bidding her goodnight.
She didn’t know whether to be cross or pleased at their rather obvious exits. ‘It seems my visitors have fled.’
Adam stared back at her, a myriad of emotions swirling in his eyes. He was hurting, she could see that, but there was more. He looked lost. ‘I still don’t want to intrude,’ he said softly, his gaze darting away from her. ‘Maybe it’s best if I go.’
‘Do you want to go?’
A short exhalation of breath. ‘No.’
Faith pulled the door open wider. ‘Then come in.’
Silently they walked into her sitting room. She wondered what he thought as his eyes skimmed over the twinkling fairy lights. The empty glasses, two remaining mince pies and multitude of chocolate orange wrappers that littered the coffee table. The stocking her mother had already filled for her and hung above the fireplace. Did he want to flee from the reminder of the time of year that clearly held such awful memories for him?
Her eyes shot up to his face but she couldn’t read his expression.
‘Do you mind?’
He indicated to the sofa and her heart ached. Last night he’d made love to her on that sofa. Tonight he was asking permission to sit on it. ‘Of course not. Would you like a drink?’
As he lowered his big body he shook his head. ‘Better not. I’ve already raided the minibar in my room.’
Unlike previous evenings, she chose to sit in the armchair opposite him. He gave her a wry smile but didn’t comment. Instead he shifted forwards, resting his arms on his knees. ‘I owe you an explanation.’
‘No, you don’t.’ She didn’t want him talking to her because he felt he should. She wanted him to tell her because he trusted her. Because he thought they had something worth pursuing when he went home, no matter how difficult it might be.
His head lifted and the bleakness of his expression left her fighting to breathe. ‘I’ve ruined things, haven’t I?’
How was she meant to answer? Was he asking because he wanted two more nights in her bed, or because he wanted more? Two more nights she could give him, but more seemed impossible. Not when he was still so clearly hung up on his ex-wife.
When she didn’t reply, he rose stiffly to his feet. ‘I’d better go.’
Faith felt a rush of longing, of wanting. Though alarms were going off in her head, warning her another night with him would make his leaving even more painful, she ignored them. ‘You don’t have to go,’ she found herself saying. ‘And you don’t have to explain.’
He angled his head, clearly confused.
‘We only have two more nights. We can forget everything and just enjoy them.’ She stopped before she added Enjoy Christmas.
Adam felt as if his head was going to explode. He didn’t know why he’d come here. Oh, he knew he wanted her. In his arms, beneath him, on top of him. On the floor, her sofa, her bed. Anywhere she’d let him take her. But if that’s all it had been, he’d have found the strength to stay away. What was the point in prolonging something that had no future? Something else had drawn him here though; a yearning, a longing he had no control over. For hours he’d sat in his room, nursing drink after drink, trying to come to terms with what Emma had told him. For so long he’d assumed everyone had blamed him for what had happened. It was a shock to find that Emma and her parents hadn’t.
While the news had come as a huge relief, had lifted some of the oppressive weight he’d been carrying with him the last few years, he knew two other people still held him accountable. His ex-wife. And himself.
The thought had left him restless, aching, miserable as hell. Would he ever be free of the guilt? Ever be himself again? A few minutes later he’d found himself knocking on Faith’s door. With her, he’d had glimpses of the man he wanted to be.
‘Are you staying or going?’
Faith’s terse words jolted him out of his introspection. One look at her face and he knew she’d taken his silence the wrong way. In a heartbeat he was lifting her into his arms. ‘Staying.’ His voice sounded desperate but he didn’t care. He needed this woman, the safe haven of her arms, the thrill of her body, more than he’d ever needed anyone. ‘Please, let me stay.’
Her body melted against him, her lips finding the side of his neck. ‘Then take me to bed.’
He needed no further instructions. Within moments he had her exactly where he wanted her. This time though, beneath the joy, the heat, the heavy throb of desire, sadness poked and prodded. Even as he kissed her soft skin, caressed her. Even as he slid blissfully into her heat, Adam found her words going round in his head.
Two more nights.
Her message couldn’t have been clearer. There would be no attempt at a long distance relationship for them. When he checked out on Boxing Day, it would be goodbye.
‘Adam?’
He blinked, gazing down at the woman beneath him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes heavy-lidded. Shaking away his thoughts he angled his hips, thrusting harder, causing them both to gasp.
If they only had two more nights, he was going to make absolutely sure they were nights she’d remember.
The bedside clock flicked over to midnight and Faith stirred in his arms, easing herself up on her elbow to kiss him lightly on the mouth.
‘Happy Christmas,’ she murmured. Before he could say anything, she placed a finger over his mouth. ‘Humour me. I’m feeling particularly happy.’
Adam smiled. ‘I have you in my arms. Trust me, I’m very happy right now.’
Something flickered in her eyes, and her smile slipped a little. ‘I wish you could stay happy.’
His heart shifted and he hugged her closer, silently wishing the same thing. Funny thing was, if he could stay right here in her bed, never let the real world intrude, he could easily see it happening.
It was so long before she spoke again, he thought she’d dropped off to sleep. ‘Did your talk with Emma help?’
As she’d made it clear she didn’t want an explanation, Adam stuck to the simple truth. ‘Yes, a little.’
He felt the curve of her mouth against his skin. ‘Does that mean I’m off the hook?’
Laughter rumbled through his chest and he kissed the top of her head. ‘You’re more than off the hook. I should be thanking you for interfering.’
Her body shuddered gently against his side. ‘I don’t like how that sounds.’
He reared up, pushing her off him and onto her back, taking her by surprise. Then he took hold of her hands and pinned her to the bed so she couldn’t turn away from him. ‘Faith Watkins, I want to formally thank you for answering my phone and telling Emma where I was. Thanks to your … intervention,’ he settled on, ‘I’ve been reunited with someone I thought I’d lost forever.’
Her smile reached right inside him, warming places that had been closed off for so long. ‘Then I’m glad it worked out. Emma seems really nice.’
Adam dipped his head and kissed her nose. ‘She is. Far more like a sister than a sister-in-law.’ As he wanted to share at least something of his past with her, he shifted to his side and started to talk. ‘Ruth, my ex-wife, was my best friend all the way through secondary school. Her family was like my second family. Her sister, Emma, the sibling I didn’t have. Her mum and dad, the parents I would have chosen.’
Understanding shone through her eyes. ‘Beca
use they took notice of you when your own didn’t.’
‘Yes.’ The need to touch her was so strong he reached out to smooth his hand down her neck.
‘So when you and Ruth split up, you thought they’d take her side?’
‘They were right to take her side,’ he corrected. And just like that, the heavy weight he’d temporarily shrugged off threatened to crush him again. Determined not to let it, determined to restrict Faith’s bedroom to just him and her, Adam bent his head and started to kiss her.
Within moments he was lost to a world where nothing mattered but the press of her flesh against his.
Chapter Twenty-One
Christmas Day
Faith eased onto her side, taking a moment to study the man lying next to her. The first man she’d ever woken up next to on Christmas morning, she noted with a jolt of surprise. No matter who she’d been dating, she’d always gone home on Christmas Eve, waking on Christmas morning in her childhood bed.
This year it was all change. Her family had come to her place. And she had a man in her bed.
His face looked younger when he was asleep, she noted as her eyes skimmed his face. It was as if the burdens he carried were no longer pulling at him, relaxing the creases around his eyes. What would he look like without the beard? Younger again, perhaps. She had to admit she loved it, though. It gave his face a rugged, edgy look that was incredibly sexy. Add that to his powerful physique and, whether asleep or awake, Adam Hunter was a deeply attractive man. The fact that he had no clue how attractive he was, just added to his appeal.
She recalled his admission last night – that he and Ruth had been childhood sweethearts – and knew it confirmed what he’d already hinted. She, Faith Watkins, was only the second woman he’d slept with. The thought pulled once again at her heart. It might have been only a fling, but he’d surely remember her as the years rolled by. She wouldn’t be a notch on a crowded bedpost. She’d be the woman who’d awakened his sexuality again.
Leaving him free to fall for the next woman he became close to.
Or perhaps to go back to the ex-wife he clearly wasn’t over.
Her heart twisted and Faith jumped out of the bed. She needed to let the dogs out. Tidy up the glasses left from last night. Make some coffee. Anything to stop thinking beyond today.
When she opened the back door Nip and Tuck scampered outside, coming to a skidding stop as their paws hit the snow. Moments later, having done what they needed to do, they darted back in again. Looking at their silly faces, their noses covered with snowflakes, her mood lifted.
Focus on now. Focus on now. She uttered the words to herself as she made two coffees and carried them to her bedroom.
It was empty.
‘Adam?’
She peeked around the corner into the ensuite. No, he wasn’t having a shower.
She called his name again, feeling stupid. Had he woken up regretting last night? Regretting being in her bed this morning? Staring down at the two coffees in her hand she started to feel sick.
The sound of her doorbell ringing made her jump. Thrusting the drinks down she walked through to the hallway and peered through the peephole.
Relief had her throwing the door open.
‘I wondered where you were.’
His hair was rumpled, his clothes – last night’s jeans and shirt – creased. His smile a touch sheepish, yet the combination made her hormones stand to attention.
‘Sorry. I just popped back to my room.’ She glanced down to the large brown envelope he was holding, decorated with a red ribbon – and her heart thumped. He must have seen her reaction because his smile slipped. ‘Don’t get excited. I haven’t got you a present. Well, not as such. And I pinched the ribbon from one of your decorations.’
God, he was so adorable. A great hulk of a man standing awkwardly in her doorway, shifting from one foot to the other. Reaching for his hand, she drew him inside and led him into the sitting room. ‘Number one, I wasn’t expecting a present,’ she told him as they sat facing each other on the sofa. ‘Number two, what on earth does not as such mean?’
‘It means no money was exchanged.’
She eyed him curiously. ‘Did you pinch it?’
His laugh was a mixture of humour and offence. ‘No. And no more questions, or you’ll start to build it up into something bigger than it is.’
‘Do you want yours?’
Grey eyes widened, his expression more than surprised. ‘You got me something?’
She’d debated whether to or not, knowing it said boyfriend rather than fling. But then she’d gone to see the owner of the gym to talk about mutual promotion ideas and the present had leapt out at her. Yesterday she’d wondered if she’d wasted her money. ‘I haven’t wrapped it yet,’ she warned.
Sadness crept into his expression. ‘You didn’t plan on giving it to me.’
‘I wasn’t sure if you’d want a present from me,’ she corrected. ‘I know you don’t like Christmas. And then, well, we spent most of yesterday at loggerheads. I wasn’t sure we’d see each other again, other than when you checked out.’
‘I can’t imagine a time when I wouldn’t want to see you.’ His voice was quiet but had a hoarse edge to it. ‘Faith, I …’ he trailed off, glancing away before seeming to gather himself. ‘I’m sorry for yesterday. This last week with you has been the best I’ve had in such a long time.’ His eyes stared straight into hers. ‘You have no idea how much it meant to me. How much you mean to me.’
Her heart began to beat wildly and Faith struggled with how to reply. Was he hinting at something more, a future beyond tomorrow? Yet how could there be with the presence of his ex-wife looming between them? Whatever had happened, he hadn’t really moved on from it. He’d admitted at the start that he wasn’t in the right place for a relationship, and now she’d seen the truth of it with her own eyes.
‘This time has meant a lot to me, too,’ she said softly. Keep it simple. Keep to the boundaries already set.
Needing to dial down the heavy blanket of emotion, Faith stood and went to fetch the coffees and his present from the bedroom.
When she came back he was hunched over, scrubbing at his face, the sound making a scratching noise against his beard. Her heart gave another painful tug. Would there ever be a time when he didn’t look sad? Didn’t look so lost?
She forced herself to smile. ‘Here you go.’
Adam snapped his head up. Faith, a strained smile on her face, was handing him a plastic carrier bag. He couldn’t believe she’d got him an actual present. As touched as he felt, it also left him cursing, and praying that what she’d bought him was something trivial and inexpensive. When he’d woken to an empty bed this morning he’d had time to think – usually when he woke next to Faith his thinking was done with the part of his anatomy that lay below his waist. Realising it was Christmas morning, and knowing how much Faith loved Christmas, he’d had the genius idea of giving her what he’d been working on over the last few afternoons, as a Christmas present.
Now, knowing she’d planned his present, actually bought him something, he felt like an unthinking prick.
She was waving the bag under his nose, her smile becoming more genuine as she rolled her eyes at him. ‘Santa calling Adam. Time to open your present.’
Cautiously he took the bag from her. It felt soft. Not an impersonal box of chocolates then, or a bottle of something alcoholic. Pulse racing, he peered into the bag and drew out a large black cotton T-shirt. When he unfolded it, his smile was instant and real. On the front was the picture of a weight lifting bar, and beneath it the words: Eat, Sleep, Lift, Repeat.
‘Thank you.’ His throat felt tight, his voice rough.
She must have sensed he was genuinely pleased because her smile was brighter than ever as she sat down next to him. ‘You’re welcome. Are you going to
try it on?’
Hastily he shrugged off yesterday’s crumpled shirt, feeling a ripple of pride as he noticed the way her eyes were drawn to his naked chest. Deliberately he twitched his muscles.
She laughed. ‘You caught me. I can’t get enough of your body.’
He slipped the T-shirt on – it fitted perfectly – before leaning in to kiss her on the lips. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m rather partial to yours, too.’
She blushed a little, surprising him because he always thought of her as confident. Then her eyes wandered to the envelope he’d set on the coffee table. ‘Do I get mine now?’
Unease flooded through him. He was so damn out of practice at all this; relationships, Christmas, present buying. Or in his case, not buying. ‘Sorry I didn’t get you a proper gift.’
Her eyes softened and she leaned into him. ‘Stop apologising. You told me you hate Christmas. I was hardly expecting you to come bursting through my door with a stocking full of beautifully wrapped presents.’
‘But you should.’ Shame pricked at him. ‘That’s what you deserved. Not a brown envelope decorated with a stolen ribbon.’
‘Hey.’ She cupped his face and he was surprised to find anger in her eyes. ‘If you’d done that, I’d have run for the hills. It would have been too much considering we’ve only known each other a short while.’ Her eyes darted over to the envelope. ‘Whatever is in there, isn’t for show. It’s real and because of that, I’ll love it.’
He had his doubts about that, but he kept them to himself and handed her the envelope. ‘Here’s your non-Christmas present.’
Unceremoniously she shoved the ribbon off and ripped at the envelope. ‘Careful,’ he winced. ‘I hadn’t figured on you attacking it, or I’d have warned you to go easy.’
She halted, giving him a sheepish smile. ‘Sorry. In case you hadn’t realised, I love surprises.’
He watched with increasing tension as she carefully drew out the sheets of paper. Her eyes scanned the drawings, then glanced up at him. Before he could work out her expression she was poring over the drawings again.
A Little Christmas Faith Page 17