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About That Fling

Page 13

by Tawna Fenske


  He nodded, not sure what he was supposed to say, but pretty sure he was underdressed for any sort of serious conversation. For that matter, Jenna wasn’t very well attired either, and she was dripping puddles of rainwater on the floor beside his door. She shivered, and Adam felt goose bumps prickle his own skin. A breeze drifted through the open door, so Adam pushed it shut, hopeful it wouldn’t make her feel trapped.

  “Look, first things first. You’re soaked to the bone.” He fingered a damp strand of her hair, knowing he shouldn’t go any further with touching her. Not yet. Not while she was this upset. “What did you do, go for a swim in the Willamette?”

  “No,” she said. “I just started walking, not really going anywhere, and then I got caught in the rain and I realized I was standing right in front of your hotel. I started feeling guilty, but I couldn’t decide whether to come up or not, so I ended up standing out there a lot longer than I meant to.”

  “How did you find my room anyway?”

  She shrugged. “You said you had a suite with a kitchen, and all of those are on the tenth floor. From there, I just started knocking. I’m pretty sure the guy in the room next door thinks I’m a hooker.”

  “A hooker with a bad sense of direction and a habit of forgetting to take her clothes off before showering. Come on. Let’s find you something dry to put on.”

  She shot a nervous glance around the room, seeming to realize for the first time that she’d landed herself in a room alone with him and a bed. She stood motionless for a moment, then stepped forward, hands at her sides. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” he said, moving to the bureau beside the bed. He pulled open the drawer where he’d stuffed his gym clothes, thankful she’d caught him just a couple days after he’d done laundry. He grabbed a pair of workout pants and a sweatshirt, along with a thick pair of socks. He handed them to her and shivered as his fingers brushed her frigid knuckles. “Here, try these. Bathroom’s right over—”

  Jenna yanked her sweater over her head, and Adam lost track of whatever the hell he’d been about to say. She wore a pink bra made sheer by the rain, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away as she reached between her shoulder blades to unhook it.

  “—or you can just change right here.”

  She smiled and gave a small shrug. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” she said, turning her back to him as the bra dropped to the floor. “I’m sure my aunt would say this is what a sex goddess would do.”

  “Absolutely,” he agreed, too transfixed to come up with anything smarter than that.

  She pulled the sweatshirt over her head, making Adam dizzy with the thought of those lovely bare breasts pressing against the soft fleece of his favorite college sweatshirt. “Besides,” she said, “it seems fair considering you’re standing there wearing nothing but your boxers.”

  “Very team spirited of you.”

  “Thanks. I’ve been working with a mediator on my team-building skills.”

  She toed off her clogs and reached for the button on her jeans. Adam hesitated, wondering if she wanted him to watch. Hell, he’d pointed out the bathroom, so she had privacy if she needed it. He gave up wrestling with the etiquette and just stared openly, transfixed by the sight of her peeling her wet jeans down those pale, flawless legs. He stood mesmerized as she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties.

  “You’re staring.”

  “You want me to stop?”

  “No. I figure I owe you. For the photo the other night. And for answering the door looking exactly like you did in the picture.”

  He laughed. “In case you wondered if I had my team of Photoshop experts airbrush the shot before I sent it to you?”

  She shook her head and wriggled out of her panties. His sweatshirt hung to midthigh on her, which prevented the whole thing from being a strip show. This was hotter somehow. Less staged, more intimate.

  “You definitely don’t need any airbrushing,” she said.

  “Neither do you.”

  Jenna pulled the sweats on, rolling them a few times at the waist so she wouldn’t trip on the cuffs. She pulled the socks on, then ran her fingers through her hair. Adam shook off the haze of the last few minutes to turn toward the bathroom. He grabbed her a clean towel, and while he was there, spotted another pair of workout pants on the floor. Tugging them on over his boxers, he returned to the room and handed her the towel.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “No, thank you. Definitely the highlight of my week.”

  She grinned. “Leave your shirt off and I’ll be able to say the same.”

  He watched as she began scrubbing the towel over her head. She wandered over to sit on the edge of the bed, and Adam stood there, not sure what his next move should be. Did he join her? Give her space?

  The hell with wondering. If he’d learned nothing else as a counselor, it was the benefit of direct communication.

  “What are we doing here, Jenna?”

  She pulled the towel away from her face and sighed. “Trying to remember why it’s a bad idea to sleep together?”

  He smiled, pleased she didn’t try to play games or pretend she didn’t understand the question. “It feels different when we’re behind closed doors, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded, and Adam made his way over to the foot of the bed. He sat down beside her, enjoying the warmth of her shoulder brushing his arm. His bare foot touched her sock-covered one, and the intimacy of it made something inside him twist into a big, glowing knot. He hesitated, then put his hand on her knee. It felt comfortable there, the curve of her kneecap fitting perfectly into his palm.

  He turned to look at her and felt his heart lodge in his throat. She’d wiped off most of the mascara, so her face was bare and lovely. Her eyes met his, and he tried to remember if he’d ever seen such a deep shade of blue anywhere else. What was the word for it? Azure? Cobalt? Cerulean? Where was the fucking Crayola box when he needed it?

  “You’re staring again.” Her voice was breathy and soft, and he knew she was thinking the same damn thing he was. He ached to kiss her. Every atom in his body screamed with the need to slide his fingers into her damp hair, to tip her chin up so their mouths fit together and their knees bumped on the edge of the bed.

  “If I kiss you right now, we know where this will end up.” His voice didn’t sound like his voice, but that seemed okay somehow.

  Jenna nodded. “I know.”

  “So it seems we have two choices here. Option one, I put your wet clothes in a bag, shake your hand, and send you on your way home.” He swallowed, wondering how it was possible to feel this warm with only half his clothes on. “Option two, we undo all this fine work we’ve just put into donning clothing and I take you in my arms and kiss you until neither of us can breathe. The gentleman in me says the latter isn’t a good idea, since you’re a little upset.”

  “I’m not upset. Not anymore.”

  “Okay,” Adam said. “Which do you choose?”

  She was silent a moment, her eyes dark and needy. He waited, not wanting to rush her, knowing whatever they decided would change everything. Jenna licked her lips, and Adam nearly groaned with desire.

  “I choose option three,” she whispered.

  “Option three?”

  “Option three. You kiss me once. Only once, and with both of us remaining upright and fully clothed.”

  “Okay.”

  “Then we agree that even if we can’t make love, we seem to be drawn to each other for some reason. So maybe we should just explore that friendship and connection in the most platonic, unromantic way we can think of.”

  “Unromantic?” Adam raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I’m not sure. Shoveling dog doo for my neighbor?”

  “That’s certainly unromantic, though it might be a little late for that. You and I might
get a ride in a squad car if your neighbor spotted two strangers roaming his backyard in the dark with shovels.”

  “Okay then.” She frowned in concentration. “How about algebra?”

  “I just closed out a spreadsheet, so that’s too much like work. We could watch a documentary on bizarre medical procedures.”

  “What about a robust discussion of Marxist philosophies of dialectical materialism?”

  “Now you’re just getting me hot again.”

  “I know!” Jenna jumped up so fast she nearly knocked Adam backward on the bed. “Let’s shoot guns!”

  “Guns?”

  “Yes. That’s unromantic.”

  “Absolutely, but it’s also illegal. At least in the city limits. Or were you planning to rob a liquor store? I think that’s an entirely different level of illegal.”

  “No, not like that,” she said, bouncing excitedly in the wool socks. “At a shooting range. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  Adam glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s eight thirty on a Friday night. Where are you going to find a shooting range that’s open?”

  “Oh, please—it’s Portland, Oregon. The weirdness capital of the world. You can wander out at midnight and get a bacon-wrapped donut, take your dog into a bar, and see a parade of naked cyclists all on the same block. I’m positive we can find an open shooting range. Actually, I think it might be ladies’ night at Guns-a-Go-Go.”

  “In case it escaped your attention, I’m not a lady.”

  “Trust me, it didn’t escape my attention.” She shot a pointed look at his crotch before smiling up at him. “You’re still allowed, you just have to pay a little extra for your ammo. Have you ever been to a shooting range?”

  “No,” he said, a little surprised to realize they were even having this discussion. “Not really my idea of a great date.”

  “Exactly! That’s why it’s perfect.” She clapped her hands together, looking so giddy with excitement that Adam had to laugh.

  “Okay, fine. A shooting range. Aren’t you forgetting one thing?”

  “What’s that?”

  “The kiss. The one we’re exchanging just to get it out of the way in hopes it’ll be awful and we’ll have the closure we need to move forward with our platonic friendship.”

  “Right.” She planted herself back on the edge of the bed and nodded. She made an exaggerated production of sidling up beside him, pretending to brace herself for something unappealing. “Okay, I’m ready. Pucker up.”

  She closed her eyes and made an absurd kissy face he knew was supposed to crack him up. But honest to God, he’d never wanted her more than he did in that moment.

  He slid his hand into her hair, tangling his fingers into the damp strands and pulling her close. Jenna opened her eyes, and a startled “oh” passed her lips an instant before his mouth found hers. Then he was kissing her hard and deep and wet.

  She moaned and arched against him, changing course as quickly as she’d changed into his sweatpants. He curved his palm around the nape of her neck, angling him against her so he could deepen the kiss. He felt breathless and dizzy and so desperate to keep kissing her that he would have given his left testicle to never have to leave this room.

  When he finally drew back, Jenna looked as mind-wacked as he did. He took a shaky breath and sat back on the bed.

  “Was that awful enough for you?” he murmured. “Bad enough to call it closure?”

  She took a shaky breath and slowly shook her head. “Not even close.”

  Walking out of that hotel room without tearing her clothes off was one of the hardest things Jenna had ever done.

  The fact that Adam was right behind her helped some, but all she really wanted to do was launch herself back onto that flawless white duvet and beg him to make love to her.

  Instead, she turned her attention to their plans to blow some paper targets to smithereens. “Why don’t we swing by my house first so I can change clothes?” she suggested, bouncing up off the bed and away from the temptation of Adam. “My aunt isn’t home tonight, so we’ll be able to slip out without anyone asking questions.”

  “What about the risk of seeing someone we know at the shooting range?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t have any friends who shoot. Mia hates guns, and I can’t imagine anyone else from hospital administration who’d want to spend Friday night with a .45 slimline Glock. I think we’re safe. Worst-case scenario, we’d tell them it’s a precursor to some team-building workshop you’re doing with us next week.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “I’ll be introducing the principles of Nonviolent Communication.”

  “I take it that doesn’t involve handguns?”

  “Not usually, but we can adapt.”

  “Okay then,” Jenna said, feeling oddly chilled by the shift to a work-related conversation. It was probably the splash of cold water her libido needed, but still. It was a helpful reminder why she had no business taking her clothes off in front of Adam. Or kissing him in a way that left every nerve in her body shrieking with desire.

  “This is good,” she said. “We’re working together. Keeping things professional.”

  Adam gave her an odd look, but nodded. “Let’s get your car.”

  They reached the shooting range a little after nine thirty, with Adam looking curious, if a little uncertain. She tucked her keys in her purse and laid a hand on his arm.

  “You’ve really never fired a gun before?” she asked.

  “Not even a BB gun.”

  “You’re not opposed to them, are you? I just do it for target practice, and I’ve taken a couple classes on self-defense. I don’t even own a gun of my own. We don’t have to do this if you’re anti-gun or something.”

  “No, I’m fine. Besides, it’s all part of my post-divorce resolution.”

  “Your post-divorce resolution involves handguns?”

  “No, my post-divorce resolution involves a pledge to try new things. Things I never did in my ex-life.”

  Jenna blinked, then she realized he’d said ex-life, not ex-wife. Funny how similar the two things were. Even so, she felt a pang of betrayal for her best friend. Would Mia be hurt to know Jenna was here firing pistols with Mia’s ex? Between the pregnancy and work drama and the challenges with Mark and Katie, Jenna knew damn well Mia was having a rough time. It wasn’t kind to rock the boat.

  But hell, it wasn’t like Mia had peed on Adam to mark him like a fire hydrant. Had she ever actually said, ‘Don’t date my ex?’”

  She never explicitly asked me not to light her house on fire, either, but I can safely assume that’s a given.

  “Come on,” Jenna said, pulling Adam through the front door before her train of thought could get any weirder. “We check in first at the front counter to rent guns and reserve a lane. Handguns okay?”

  “As opposed to what?”

  “Rifles. Grenade launchers.” She grinned, enjoying the novelty of being with him in a non-work setting with all their clothes on. “I’m kidding about the grenade launchers, but there is an outdoor rifle range. Can’t you hear it?”

  “That’s rifle fire? I figured someone was playing with firecrackers.”

  “You really are a novice.”

  “Guilty as charged.” He looked around and lowered his voice. “I shouldn’t say that out loud, huh? They probably won’t give me a gun if I’m a felon.”

  Jenna laughed and towed him toward the counter, unsurprised to see a line of women waiting their turn while the group at the head of the line debated the merits of a standard Ruger versus a Smith & Wesson. She watched Adam taking it all in, his green eyes studying the cases of ammo behind the counter, the posters for shooting classes and handgun safety.

  There was something thrilling about being here with him. About the idea of introducing him to something new, something he’d never tried with any
one else.

  You’re renting a handgun, not testing out a new sex position.

  She shook off her annoying inner voice and studied him some more. His eyes were bright and curious, and his jaw was pebbled with stubble. He’d donned an old T-shirt and jeans that looked so soft she wanted to rub her cheek on his thigh. She looked back at his face, amused to see he was still surveying the lobby.

  The instant his expression froze, Jenna felt her heart clench. All the color drained from his face, and Jenna felt her mouth go dry.

  “What is it? Adam? What’s wrong?”

  He opened his mouth to reply just as a female voice echoed over the crowd. “Adam Thomas? Is that you?”

  Jenna turned to see a petite blonde woman making her way toward them. Their eyes locked, and the woman blinked in surprise. “Jenna? What brings you here? Are the two of you together?”

  “Ellen.”

  Jenna uttered the word at the same time Adam did, and some immature part of her wanted to call “jinx” and laugh about the whole thing.

  But most of her wondered why Adam was so affected by the sight of Mark’s ex-wife.

  “Hello, Ellen,” Adam said. “I didn’t realize you’d moved to Portland.”

  “Well, when Mark relocated with—with her—it just made sense to do the same. I can work from anywhere, and it was important for Katie to have a relationship with her father, even if he does make piss-poor decisions in life.” She frowned and looked at Jenna. “Sorry, Jenna. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I know Mia is your friend.”

  “It’s okay,” Jenna murmured, even though it wasn’t. She’d only met Ellen twice before, both times when she’d been at Mia’s house and Ellen had shown up to retrieve Katie. She hadn’t been pleasant.

  With the tension radiating off the woman like sonic waves, Jenna wasn’t feeling too pleasant herself.

  “So what brings you here?” Ellen asked, looking from Adam to Jenna and back again, a hint of amused suspicion on her face.

  “I’m in town doing some mediation work at the medical center where Jenna works,” Adam supplied, finding his words first. “Jenna’s part of the bargaining group, so we’re preparing some team-building exercises in advance of next week’s session.”

 

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