Giving In to You

by L. M. Carr

  In walks Adam, casually dressed in weathered jeans and black v-neck t-shirt, talking on his cell phone. Soon after he ends his call, he slips the phone into his pocket and looks around the restaurant, his eyes landing directly on me. A stern look quickly appears and then disappears as he shifts his attention to Shane and then back to me. I watch silently as he walks up to the counter, pays, and then proceeds to carry out two large boxes, pushing the door open with his back.

  I feel like I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar, a slow blush creeps up on my face. I continue to watch him as he holds the door for a woman to enter, smiling at her as though he’d like to eat her for dessert. The only acknowledgement I get from him is a sideways glance and smirk before he leaves.

  What the hell? No, “Hello, Miss Delaney.” No sexy “I’ve got a secret” smile. Nada! It’s really not that big of a deal so why do I feel so annoyed and disappointed at the same time.

  LATER THAT WEEK I find myself antsy, needing to expend some extra energy. Knowing that I’ve been slacking off running every afternoon, choosing to let Brady play catch down by the lake instead of at the park, I set out early Saturday morning for a long hard run with Brady in tow. Sweat drenches my head, drips down my back, the burn in my legs screaming for reprieve. My steps slow down as I reach the summit, my quiet place, but the pounding of my heart thunders rapidly when I notice a lone occupant sitting there, quietly looking out over the town. Really? This can’t be happening to me. This man has occupied my thoughts and dreams for some time now yet an escape from him is nowhere to be seen.

  Sweat glistens off his broad shoulders, the well-defined muscles of his bare back beg to be touched. Brady, my traitorous dog, races over to him.

  “Hi there.” He smiles and turns his lean body to face me. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” His hand runs over the dark hair that has fallen over his sweat covered forehead, exposing his unshaven face with its heavy stubble.

  I look at him dubiously as I gulp down the rest of my water. My eyes roll, my lips purse letting him know I think he’s a liar. “Mr. Lawson, you seem to be all over the place these days.”

  “Well,” he states and looks directly at me. “I am new to the area so I’m just trying to meet the locals. I want to take advantage of all this little town has to offer.” His eyes blatantly sweep down the length of my body.

  “That’s nice,” I blurt out sarcastically. “Where are your kids?” He ignores me and asks a question of his own.

  “So, you’re a local girl?” His lips pull back into a knowing smile.

  “I am. Born and bred here.”

  He uses his hand, brushes away small pebbles and dirt on the ledge beside him and pats the spot. “Sit.”

  I smirk and take a seat next to him. “I will only because my legs are tired not because you told me to.”

  He narrows his eyes and laughs at me, shoving his hands through his hair again after wiping them off on his running shorts. His arm brushes against mine, a jolt flashes through my body. Get a grip, Mia! He wipes the sweat from his brow with a blue t-shirt.

  “So, Miss Delaney, give me tour.” His gaze is now over the town outstretched ahead and below us. “What keeps a beautiful woman like you in this small town?”

  “Hey, what’s wrong with my small town?” I nudge him lightly with my elbow.

  “Nothing really. It’s just that there are a lot more opportunities in bigger cities.”

  “Bigger is not always better, you know,” I retort.

  “Oh, I disagree. Bigger is most definitely always better.” He leans close to me, his face only inches away as he gives me a cheeky grin and a sideways glance. An embarrassing chuckle escapes me when I realize that I walked right into that one. I bite down on my bottom lip trying desperately not to laugh, shaking my head at my foolishness.

  We sit there for what seems to be an endless amount of time. I point out all the places of interest and the history behind each one. Memories of my childhood rush to the forefront of my mind. I try to think of a single bad memory from my childhood, but the truth is that it really was perfect. At least it seemed that way to me. The only painful memory, if you can even call it painful, was when Josh decided to make a ramp in the street and broke my yellow Starburst bicycle in half. Literally. His body ended up stretched and sprawled out beneath the broken frame. I’m not sure if I cried more for my brother or my broken bike.

  “Oh my God. That’s a funny story,” Adam says, laughing at my play by play of the incident. “Did he at least buy you another bike?”

  “Of course! My father made him pick up an extra paper route to pay for a new bike. There were no freebies in our home. You had to work for everything and if you broke something, you had to either fix it or replace it.”

  “Do you still talk to your brother?”

  What an odd question? A goofy grin spreads across my face as I answer, “Yes, we’re very close. I talk to him all the time. In fact, I was just visiting him over the summer.”

  “Sounds like you have good memories.”

  “Absolutely! I had a wonderful childhood. This was a great place to grow up,” I smile answering truthfully. It wasn’t until I was older that things changed.

  He listens intently, as I continue the tour, nodding in approval of the town. “It’s a nice place to raise kids.”

  “It is.”

  “What happened to that place?” I know he’s looking at the plant because there’s a hint of sadness in his voice. Maybe he thinks a small town can’t afford to rebuild, but that’s not the case at all.

  I clear my throat to swallow the lump that has now formed when I point to the vacant lot. So many lives were altered forever in one night. “That was a manufacturing plant. There was an explosion and it burned down several years ago.” My voice sounds foreign to me, devoid of any emotion.

  “An explosion? Did anyone get hurt?” His face transforms to genuine interest as he squints his eyes to inspect the lot.

  I don’t want to answer this question. The hurt and devastation of that night will be evident on my face and I don’t want his pity or anyone else’s for that matter.

  “Yes, one person,” I answer solemnly, gathering my hair to readjust my ponytail.

  “Really? How bad?” he asks, still looking straight ahead.

  “How bad, what?”

  “How badly did someone get hurt?” He seems oddly concerned.

  “He died,” I whisper.

  He finally turns to face me. “Did you know him?”

  I swallow down a lump the size of a half dollar that threatens to choke me. My eyes close, willing the tears to stay at bay.

  “I did. He was my father.”

  “Your father? My God, I’m so sorry.” Dark eyes look at me with what exactly I don’t want to see. Pity. I can only imagine what the look on his face would be if he knew the other events of that fateful night.

  “That’s why I come here. I want to feel close to him, to talk to him. He was my everything.” I smile to myself.

  Adam turns to face me, and raises his hand to brush my layered bangs away from my face. “I am so sorry.”

  After sitting in silence for some time, each of us lost in our own thoughts, a pontoon boat on Lake Whitney captures his attention. Adam listens intently as I tell him about my years on the lake, and then he smiles when I point out the path that runs through my heavily wooded backyard and leads right down to the shore. The lake was my second home.

  “So that’s your house right there?” He leans in close to me, pointing to my home which is barely visible amongst the thick trees.

  “Sure is,” I say proudly. I love my house; it’s the only place I’ve ever called home.

  “That’s a big house for one person.” He says it like it’s a question, not a statement.

  “Not really. Besides I don’t live alone,” I toss out. His eyes study me.

  “You live with your mom?” he asks.

  “No.”

  “Roommate?” Oh, he
is so fishing for information. I think like this game.

  “Nope.”

  “Boyfriend?” he hesitates, skepticism oozing from his question.

  “Definitely not!” I shake my head, snorting a bit.

  A look of relief washes over his handsome face.

  “So…who’s the lucky person to share the place you call home?”

  I can’t take it anymore as laughter erupts from my belly. “It’s just me and that guy.” I nod at Brady resting beneath the shade of the trees. “He’s great, but he’s such a bed hog.”

  “You think you’re funny, don’t you, Miss Delaney,” he says with a cheeky grin.

  Okay, enough talk about me. It’s time to find out about a certain, sexy father. Let’s see what his story is.

  “So what about you? What brings a city slicker like you here?”

  “A city slicker?” He feigns being offended, but his deep laugh makes me smile. “I was right. You are a comedian.”

  The buzzing of his phone interrupts us. I wait with a look of expectancy, my eyes wide and round as he looks at his phone and responds, “Hey, Chris. What’s up?” I can only hear one side of the conversation and it sounds like he’s setting up a meeting. “Okay, yeah, I actually have a couple of questions, too. Sounds good, thanks.” He slides his phone into the pocket of his running shorts.

  “So?” I ask, still waiting for an answer.

  “So what?”

  “What brings a city slicker like you here?” I ask again.

  His mouth pulls into a side smile. “A few different things actually,” he says thoughtfully. “But my kids were the number one reason. Some business opportunities were the second.” There’s a hint of melancholy in his eyes for a moment then it’s gone in an instant.

  “Where are your kids anyway?” I ask.

  Adam turns his head, gazing back out over the town and stares. No response. I’m gathering that he really doesn’t like to talk about his kids, which is surprising because he’s such a doting father. At least at school he is—maybe it’s just an act for all the single ladies. It’s kind of like bringing a puppy to the park to attract the all young hotties.

  I try a different tactic with him because he clearly doesn’t want to talk about his kids. “Your children are great. Madison is such a sweetheart. And Luke, he seems like a good boy, even if he’s a little wild at home,” I tease, throwing his words back at him.

  “I agree.” He smiles. “They are great kids. They’ve been raised right.”

  “You should be proud of yourself then.” I offer, thinking of my own childhood, remembering all the proud father moments my dad had.

  “They’ve had to deal with a lot for being so young. They’re amazingly strong kids.” He inhales and scrubs his scruffy jaw with his hands before running them through his thick hair and then exhaling loudly. It’s as if he’s carrying the weight of the world and the weight has just been lifted. It must be hard to be a single father, raising two young children alone in this day and age.

  Should I mention that I know about his wife? I can’t even imagine what it would be like to lose the love of my life…again. I remove the elastic from my hair, readjusting my ponytail once again just so I could gather the wayward hair from my face. And I need to wipe away the tear without Adam noticing. I swallow the huge lump sitting there in my throat, just waiting to erupt and rob me of speech.

  Again, we sit there silently, side by side, what seems like forever. Each of us lost in our own private thoughts. My mind drifts back to the first time meeting him, right here on the summit. Seeing him and Luke at the grocery store. His confrontation with me at the club. His constant flirting. Him walking and talking with his arm around Gina. That last thought makes me want to learn more about this man. It would seem that he’s moved on pretty quickly after just having lost his wife, the mother of his children.

  “I’m sorry about your wife. Madison told me she passed away recently,” my voice whispers before I can stop the words.

  His head whips around to face me, angry eyes bore into mine. “My wife? She wasn’t my wife,” he snaps. The volatile man from the club reappears briefly and then is gone. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes with softer, pleading eyes. He runs his hands over his face and through his hair, leaving it sticking up in a sexy way. “That was extremely rude of me. Please forgive me.” Suddenly I’m uncomfortable, wondering how things have taken such a serious turn. Adam’s original request was a tour of the town, not a trip down memory lane of his loss and pain.

  “It’s okay, I understand.” I smile timidly. “Believe me I know what it’s like to lose someone you love very much. It’s not easy to deal with, but everyone grieves in their own way.”

  The quiet resumes for what feels like an eternity.

  In the distance, a low rumble of thunder breaks the awkward silence. Thick ominous grey clouds roll furiously into the town, promising one hell of a show. The pontoon boat is making its way back to the dock.

  “Looks like a good storm’s coming.” I jump up, wiping the dirt from the back of my red Nike shorts. “I should get home before the sky opens up.”

  Adam looks troubled—his beautiful face marred by a serious frown and his brows furrow. He stands beside me, tapping out a text on his iPhone before turning to face me with his hand extended. Okay…I guess we’re going to shake hands like a formal business meeting. I mean after all, I am his daughter’s teacher, but why can’t he just say, “See you later” or “Take care.” What’s with always needing to shake my hand?

  “Mr. Lawson.” I smile and I slip my hand into his firm grasp.

  With a determined look on his face, his hand wraps around mine, pulling me close. Our locked hands caught between our chests. My heart flutters faster and my breathing hitches. My body goes on high alert.

  “Miss Delaney,” he breathes, stepping in closer, settling his eyes on my mouth. “I need to kiss you.”

  I gasp and try to release his hand, but he holds me in place, keeping me still. He needs to kiss me? My God, is this really happening? He is absolutely gorgeous and sexy, but me? He really wants to kiss me? My eyes wander of their own accord to his full lips and I release a breathy sigh. My tongue slips out to moisten my lips, giving him the answer he waits for.

  “May I?” he asks and tilts his head as his free hand secures me at the nape of my neck. Adam leans in slowly, deliberately, controlled, waiting for the final okay. My eyelids close, my head tilts to the side. I feel his lips press slowly against mine. His lips are soft yet firm. A quiet moan escapes his chest and he places another chaste kiss on my mouth. I want to scream, “Give me more! Open your mouth! Let me in!”

  Either Adam is a mind reader or more likely, he senses my reaction to him, because he pulls back to look at me and then goes in for the kill. The instant his lips touch mine again and his tongue slips through, I lose all sense of self control. His tongue is soft and warm and very much welcomed. My mouth opens, allowing his tongue to dance with mine, tasting me, desperate for more. I reach out to pull his head closer, my fingers tangle, grasping at his wavy hair. I moan into his mouth, surrendering to the pleasure of his kiss. I have never been kissed like this. So passionately. So needy. So full of pure lust.

  His stiff erection pushes against my belly when his hands trail down my back, pulling me tightly against him. I can feel how hard he is. A thrill shoots through me knowing that I am doing this to him. His erection is for me. Adam’s kisses become desperate, like time is running out and he’ll never have this opportunity again.

  “My God, I want you,” he pants as he cups my face with his palms, he rests his forehead on mine. “Tell me that I can have you.”

  Wait! What? He wants me? Images of the Devin at the nightclub crash into my mind. My body is screaming “yes, take me now,” but my heart tells me to run fast and far. I’m suddenly aware of where I am, what I’m doing, and who I’m doing it with.

  I close my eyes and exhale loudly, answering him, “I can’t.”

  Adam
’s eyes search mine while his thumbs caress my cheekbones, searching for a different response. “Can’t? Or won’t?” he asks. “Tell me.”

  “Both,” I reply, trying to break away from his hold on me.

  He brings his lips close to mine again, planting soft kisses along my jaw line. “Why?”

  The ability to speak evades me, I have no words. So I close my eyes, conceding to the feel of his gentle kisses.

  “We.” Kiss. “Would.” Kiss. “Be.” Kiss. “So.” Kiss. “Good.” Kiss. “Together.” Kiss.

  A bolt of intense lightning followed by a loud clap of thunder startles me.

  I struggle in vain to get out of his arms. “Please, stop.”

  “You feel this?” His hand squeezes mine. “You have to. There’s no denying it.” He circles his hips, pushing his erection into me again. “This is what you do to me. Every single, damn day.”

  The night at the club flashes before my eyes. Devin. His words. His actions. “I can’t do this.” I struggle against him. I need to find an excuse not to give into temptation again. I don’t want to get hurt—I’ve had enough to last me a lifetime. “I’m…I’m your daughter’s teacher. We can’t do this.” It’s the only excuse I can think of at the moment.

  “Why not?” he breathes into my ear. “You’re attracted to me. I know you are and I’m so fucking attracted to you, I can’t think straight.” Those hips of his grind forward a second time. His hands palm my ass. “Are you wet just thinking about it? You would come so hard around me.”

  A wanton gasp escapes, my chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “Please…”

  “Please, what?” he asks, his teeth nipping at my ear, his warm breath tickles my neck.

  “Please…STOP.” I muster up the strength to push him away, turning my back to him. “I can’t do this with you.” My weak voice betrays my words.

  Huge, heavy drops of rain pelt my face like the tears of my heart.

  “Just think about it,” he whispers in my ear so I know he’s standing closely behind me. A hand touches my shoulder, turning me back around to face him. “We would be so good together. You can’t deny what this is between us.”