by Jill Shalvis
She feigned an interest in the row of pictures along the hallway wall for another few minutes for the excuse to be standing there, but since the pictures were all of her father’s favorite pets from over the years, she tired of that quickly. She tried an ear to the door again, and had just settled up against the wood when it was pulled open. She nearly fell but Adam caught her and pulled her out of the office with him as he shut the door behind them.
She jerked upright and out of his grip, and tried to look busy.
Adam wasn’t fooled. “You catch all that, or do you need an instant replay?”
“No.” She sighed. “The damn walls are too thick, I couldn’t hear a thing.”
Adam’s amusement faded. Taking her hand, he led her down the hallway, then outside, away from prying eyes and ears. “I got him to agree to go back to the doctor for a full checkup,” he said. “Just to make sure everything’s okay. I think his blood pressure meds aren’t a good mix with the antidepressants he’s taking.”
She unconsciously put a hand to her heart. “He’s on meds for depression?”
“Yeah, and before you ask, no, I didn’t know.”
“Oh my God.”
Stepping close, he wrapped his fingers around the wrist of the hand she was holding to her heart. She looked up into those eyes, warm and steady on hers, and actually felt some of her tension drain.
Of course, then an entirely different kind of tension filled her. She had no idea what it was about Adam that never failed to inspire confidence and a feeling of security. He could make it all better with one touch, which was just about the craziest thing. No one could make things all better. She freed her hand and slid it up his chest, tipping her face to his.
He stepped into her, holding her gaze for a long beat before lowering his head and brushing his lips to hers. When she sighed in pleasure, he took her mouth with his. No other word for it. He took, and she gave. Willingly. Gliding her arms up around his neck, entangling her fingers in his hair, she pressed closer. A groan sounded and she honestly wasn’t sure which of them it came from.
When Adam pulled free, his voice was lower, huskier. “Let me know if you need anything.”
She nodded, staggered by the intensity of their connection. It was different this time around. Deeper. Stronger.
Scarier.
She’d already decided on the ride home that she didn’t need to put a label on whatever this was. She’d done that once, and it hadn’t worked out for her. She didn’t need him to acknowledge wanting her when it was right there for her to see. She didn’t need him to put words to the fact that in spite of themselves, they had a relationship of sorts, whether it was friends, or friends with benefits, or more.
The bottom line was that he’d proved how much he cared about her with every action he made over the past few days. A conversation about it wouldn’t make it any more real than what it was right now. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“For the kiss?”
She smiled. “For finding him for me.”
His gaze drifted down over her mouth again. “That wasn’t all we found.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
He held her gaze, then stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets as if he didn’t quite trust them. And that. That all by itself made her feel even better. Because she wasn’t the only one fighting this thing. In fact, she wasn’t planning on fighting it at all anymore.
But she understood that he would.
Too bad he didn’t stand a chance…
“He’s promised me full disclosure after his doctor appointment,” Adam said.
It took her a moment to switch gears. “And what about me?” she asked. “Do I get full disclosure, too?”
Adam shrugged.
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re kidding me. I don’t?”
“He doesn’t want you to worry.”
“Well, he won’t have to worry about me worrying, since I’m going to kill him.”
Adam shook his head. “Do I need to go back in there with you and referee?”
“No.”
He nodded and, with one last long look, left.
Holly headed inside and hauled open her dad’s office door. He wasn’t at his desk as she expected. He was on the couch, head back, staring up at the ceiling, Thing One and Thing Two at his feet. At the sight of her, the dogs bounced up and tried to slobber her to death. “Sit,” she said.
Thing One leaned on her, leaving dog hair all over her jeans. Thing Two licked her hand. “Sit,” she repeated sternly.
Neither of them listened. “Obedience class isn’t working.”
“Adam says it’s the owner who needs to be trained.” He snapped a finger and the dogs obediently sat.
Holly sighed. Okay, so she needed obedience class.
“Listen,” her dad said. “I don’t want you to tell Grif about…you know.”
“The heart attack?”
“Yeah. I don’t want him worrying about me while he’s over there.”
“Dad, I told him you were missing and that I went out after you with Adam.”
“Goddammit.” He glared at her, eyes bloodshot, the lines in his face drawn. He seemed older than she could remember him looking, and her heart clenched.
“So, it’s okay for you to keep a secret for years,” he griped, “and yet you babble about me to the entire fucking world?”
“Maybe that’s our problem. As a family, we don’t talk much.”
“Well, you picked a hell of a time to change the rules.”
He was brooding, and sensing it, Thing One and Thing Two hopped up and surrounded him. Holly moved closer, too, because he looked sad sitting between the two happy pups. Too sad. Feeling grateful to have him home safe and sound, wanting him to know it, she leaned in and kissed his tight jaw. “We’ll deal with it, Dad. Okay? We’ll deal with it together.”
He nodded, then paused. Clearly he wanted to say something, and since it was unlike him to hesitate over anything, ever, her gut tightened. “What?”
“I never asked about Derek, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t wonder. In fact, I’d guessed about you splitting up.” This didn’t surprise her. Her dad kept himself incredibly busy, but he was astute and as sharp as a tack. Not to mention nosy as hell. He liked to know what was going on with his people. “I contacted him and asked him directly. He confirmed that you’d filed for divorce. I didn’t say anything to you about it because…”
She stared at him in shock, because this did surprise her, though it shouldn’t have. “Because why, Dad? Why didn’t you tell me that once again you’d interfered?”
He grimaced. Guilt? Probably not. Probably just bracing himself for the fight about it now that he’d confessed. “Because you didn’t tell me yourself,” he finally said. “I thought you didn’t want me to know. And for the first time in your life, you’ve seemed…” He searched for words, and when they came, they weren’t what Holly expected. “Sure of yourself,” he said quietly. “And happy in your skin. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”
“Oh.” Her throat felt tight, but she nodded. Because it was true. Being back here in Sunshine, running the business side of things for Reid Ranching had empowered her. “I see.”
“Actually, no you don’t.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “And damn, but I’m really bad at this.” He dropped his hand and met her gaze. “All your life, Holly, you’ve hidden yourself, conforming to what you thought I wanted. Or your mom. And then that asshole you married to spite me. You hid yourself, and I let you. I was wrong. You needed to find your own way, and you’ve done that. You’ve become tough and strong. A true Reid. Damned if I was going to take that away from you.”
“Oh, Dad.” She nudged Thing One off the couch and plopped down in his spot. They sat there a moment, companionably quiet.
“He’s a good man, Holly.”
Head back, she craned her neck to look at him. “Who?”
“Adam.”
Her heart knocked once
against her ribs. “That was never in question.”
“He’s a good man,” her dad repeated. “And if I had any hand in messing things up the first time, I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t you.” She’d wanted Adam to stay in Sunshine—but she’d wanted that for her, not taking into account his wants. She’d been immature and selfish. “You were there for him, guiding him when he needed it. You did what was right for him.”
Which was more than she’d managed.
“I did. And I’ll do what’s right for him now, too,” her dad said.
“Which is?”
“Give him my permission to date you.”
Holly stared at him, not knowing whether to laugh or be horrified. “Dad, you do realize that we don’t need your permission.”
“Well, of course I realize that. But I want him for you.”
Laughing won, she decided. “You spent the past decade trying to talk me out of Derek.”
“Adam’s a better man.”
She agreed. “Adam’s not ready for me.”
Now her father laughed, too. “Since when has something like that ever stopped you?”
Adam spent his first day back out on Bear Lake evaluating a class of five trying to pass their S&R certs. He got home later than planned, missing dinner with Dell and Brady, both of whom had left him bitchy texts like a couple of women.
This suited Adam, who wasn’t ready to be grilled. He still hadn’t processed all that had happened in the past few days. Being in such close proximity with Holly had fried his brain circuit. At least that was the story he was going with, since he couldn’t come up with any other reason for what had happened between them.
Being with her again had done something to him, cracked something open deep on the inside. He wasn’t sure how or what, but he knew one thing.
He was feeling again, way too much.
Then there’d been the matter of the caves and his massive failure to handle himself there. Yeah, fun times. He was really enjoying obsessing over that…
He’d done his best to shove it all away, but that wasn’t working out so well for him. And he knew better, anyway. Shoving the bad shit deep always backfired, because then he ended up at the mouth of a set of caves having a breakdown…
Christ.
Completely over himself, he got up early the next morning to take out his horse. Reno was a four-year-old American quarter horse and the other love of Adam’s life besides his dog. Two years ago, Reno had been rescued from a traveling carnival looking like a bare sack of bones and skin, covered in sores from being beaten. With Dell’s help, Adam had nursed him back to life. These days Reno was fit and happy—and demanding.
When Adam got close enough, Reno nickered in greeting and butted him in the chest, snorting with eagerness to get out. While Adam saddled him up, Reno frisked him for apple slices—which he found in Adam’s jacket pocket. “You’re an attention ’ho, you know that. Like a woman,” Adam said, hearing the footsteps behind him. Knowing it was his brother, he didn’t turn.
“Don’t let your woman hear you say that,” Dell said, leaning against a post.
Adam imitated Reno and ignored this. He hopped into the saddle and took off, leaving Dell to eat their dust.
His woman.
He didn’t have a damn woman and didn’t have room in his life for one, anyway. He didn’t have time or inclination or need. He didn’t have shit. He sure as hell didn’t have a single thing to offer a woman.
So why have you done nothing but think about her?
He brushed that thought off the same way he’d brushed off his brother.
Or tried.
But it didn’t take Dell long to saddle his horse and urge Kiki to catch up to Reno. Kiki had a thing for Reno. A competition thing. The two horses nickered at each other while Dell tipped his hat back and flashed a triumphant smile at Adam.
The brothers were as competitive as their horses.
“In a hurry, then?” Dell asked.
“Needed a ride.”
“Thought maybe you’d already gotten one of those recently.”
Adam shot his brother a long look, which Dell met evenly. “You seemed…relaxed, is all,” Dell said.
Adam shook his head. “Is this why you’re up at the crack of dawn? To bug the shit out of me? Where’s Jade?”
“She’s pissed off at me right now.”
“Maybe you can pretend I’m pissed off at you, too.”
Dell sighed. “You’re no fun anymore.”
Adam didn’t respond to that, since it might very well be true. “Why’s Jade pissed?”
“Because I asked her how she felt about diamond rings.”
Adam stared at him. “You asked her to marry you?”
Dell shrugged. “Not yet.”
“So how does she feel about diamond rings?”
“She says she’s happy living in sin with me and doesn’t see the reason to complicate things.”
Adam looked at his brother, the guy who defined laid-back and easygoing, the guy who’d never wanted a relationship, much less a wedding ring. “You really want to marry her.”
“More than anything.” Dell leaned forward and gently patted Kiki’s neck. “I’ll wear her down. Eventually.”
Adam smiled. “Going to be fun watching you try.”
They rode hard out to Crescent Canyon and stared down at the valley below.
Dell dismounted and, holding Kiki’s reins, walked to the edge. He looked down for a long moment, then tossed his head back and let out a yell. When he was done, he turned to Adam.
Adam dismounted Reno and joined his brother. Side by side, they stared down into the meadow, dotted with a mix of snow and mud. It was late enough in the year that everything was still brown from a late fall, and far too early for any hints of spring. And yet the meadow was quiet, serene. Beautiful.
“Do it,” Dell said.
“I’m good.”
“Do it or I’ll push you off.”
This wasn’t true. Dell wouldn’t push Adam off because then he’d have to run Belle Haven alone, and he was too lazy to handle it all by himself. Adam turned his gaze to the meadow. The deal was to think of the thing that you wanted to let go of. So he closed his eyes and knew exactly what he wanted to let go of—the memory of Holly having to get him out of the cave. Just thinking about it he felt himself start to sweat. He drew a deep breath and yelled at the top of his lungs until he had nothing left.
Still staring into the meadow, Dell reached out and clasped a hand on Adam’s shoulder. They stood like that until Reno nudged Adam, searching his pockets for more apple slices.
Dell laughed when the horse found them. “You are such a softie,” he said.
If Adam hadn’t just yelled himself hoarse, losing all the tension in his entire body, he might have shown Dell just how much he wasn’t a softie. But he was feeling much more relaxed now and not up to a tussle. They got back on their horses and rode to Belle Haven, arriving in plenty of time before Dell’s patients.
Dell was a damn good veterinarian and extremely popular. Usually he was busy from morning until night, seeing anything from the animal kingdom that needed him. In general, his appointments ran the gamut from a rabbit with an abscess to a goat who’d let her curiosity get the best of her and had ended up with her head stuck inside a mailbox.
Adam had a busy day. He worked an S&R for a hiker who’d turned out to not be lost at all but hiding out from his pissed-off wife after he’d blown their savings at an online gambling site.
It was much later that afternoon when Brady and Twinkles, his rescued mutt, cornered Adam in the staff room. Brady was tall, broad-shouldered, and built for a fight. They’d certainly had plenty when they’d been teenagers, but they’d both mellowed in their old age. “How you doing?” Brady asked.
Adam shrugged, bent to scratch Twinkles behind the ears, and then searched their refrigerator for something to eat. For several