Adam Then and Now

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Adam Then and Now Page 7

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  “I do.”

  And so did she the moment his mouth covered hers.

  No one else had ever kissed her like this. His lips settled softly, with a deceptive lightness that teased her into a frothy cloud of warmth. She felt wrapped in shades of pink and gold as he coaxed her mouth open with a playful caress that seemed to invite her on a pleasant adventure.

  Deceiver. “Pleasant” was not what he had in mind, yet she remembered too late how his Pied Piper song would always change, how the chords would ripen, the shades of color deepen to red. Gentleness gave way to passion, coaxing gave way to demand.

  And she gave.

  Gave as she had the first time Adam had kissed her, and her world had changed forever. Gave with the fervor of a caged animal released into the wild. With a sob, she opened her mouth to receive the thrust of his tongue, buried her fingers in his hair and rode the whirlwind.

  When at last he released her, they were both gasping. He gazed at her, his eyes wild with longing. “My God, Loren.”

  The sound of a boat engine edged into her consciousness, and she remembered they were on a dock. And she remembered other things—things she would do well not to forget. She struggled out of his embrace, stooped to grab the bundle of clothes that had fallen to the floor and stood, glancing toward the skiff coming alongside the dock.

  “You folks need a ride?” called the captain.

  Loren straightened her T-shirt. She didn’t trust herself to look at Adam. “No, thanks,” she managed to say.

  “Okeydoke.” With a spin of the wheel, the skiff’s captain pointed his craft toward the next casino dock several yards away.

  “Loren.”

  She turned in time to sidestep Adam’s attempt to gather her close.

  “Loren, what”

  “That was a dumb thing to do.” She took a deep breath. “I’m as much at fault as you, but let’s not allow that to happen again.”

  He stared at her in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “You’re going to disregard what just happened?”

  “I’m going to take it as a warning that we’re playing with fire. The timing’s not any better for us now than it was back then. You’re in no psychological shape to start a relationship, not this soon after a divorce.”

  “That’s crap! You have no idea what psychological shape I’m in.”

  “And there’s your daughter. I refuse to help drive a wedge between the two of you any more than I unwittingly have already.”

  He looked desperate. “I’ll talk to her, explain things.”

  “Like what? That you never loved her mother and were pining for me the whole time you were married? That should be a big hit with Daphne.”

  With a muttered oath, he turned away and studied the darkening sky. The wind came up, whipping the river into whitecaps as rain blew under the canopy, pelting them with cold drops. He swung back to face her. “How do you expect us to get through a night together after what just happened?”

  “By exercising restraint. Surely you haven’t forgotten how?”

  His laughter lacked humor. “Where you’re concerned, it’s the only thing I’ve ever known.” He gestured toward the sky. “I guess we’d better call Sedona and get it over with. And book a place to stay tonight.”

  “Two rooms.”

  “Is two rooms safe enough? Maybe we should choose two different hotels.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  He flung her a heated gaze. “The way I feel right now, it’s not ridiculous.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “LET’S BOOK the rooms first,” Adam said once they reached the casino lobby. “I’d rather not call Daphne with slot machines jingling in the background. It will be a difficult conversation, anyway, without reminding her I could be here having the time of my life.”

  “Okay.”

  “Is here all right?”

  Loren shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Here, then.”

  At the reservation desk, the clerk automatically gave them adjoining rooms. Loren started to protest, but then realized a protest might sound as if she couldn’t bear to be near this person she was registering with.

  “Luggage?” the desk clerk asked.

  “None,” Adam replied smoothly, picking up both keys and heading for the elevators.

  “This feels really strange,” Loren admitted as they stepped into the bright interior of the elevator.

  “Tell me about it.” He handed her a key. “Here. You have the power to lock me out, just in case you were worried.”

  Not about you. When she looked at him, she experienced a craving that seemed dredged up from the bottom of her soul. But she distrusted that craving; it was a siren song to heartbreak.

  They entered their rooms separately to make their respective calls. The adjoining door was closed. Loren flipped on a light against the gloom and walked over to the window. She had a view of the parking lot and more casinos across the street. Oh, well. She wasn’t here for the view. She was here because her job had brought her here. The knowledge that Adam was in the other room, would be for the rest of the night, must be erased from her mind.

  The room wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. A quilted flowered bedspread covered the king-size mattress, and a Monet print of a garden hung over the bed. Against the window wall, a round wood-veneer table flanked by two chairs held an ashtray and matches. The television set sat on a double dresser opposite the bed.

  In the bathroom, she found shampoo and lotion. She’d been stuck on assignment before, usually without even these amenities. Maybe she should pick up a comb, she decided, running a hand through her hair as she glanced into the wide bathroom mirror.

  With a shock, she saw the eighteen-year-old she’d once been staring back at her. The eighteen-year-old who’d come in from a day at Slide Rock, her face washed free of makeup by the creek, hair soaked and allowed to dry as it lay. Even her lips were the same, reddened from Adam’s kiss, and her chin glowed pink from the friction of his stubble. When she was eighteen, she’d imagined her mother hadn’t known what she and Adam had been doing all afternoon. Of course she’d no doubt guessed.

  Loren flushed at the knowledge that the desk clerk, too, might have guessed what the two of them had been doing this particular afternoon. She should never have succumbed to the hypnotic effect of Adam’s touch, which allowed him to dare still more. His kiss was everything she remembered, a fiery prelude to the lovemaking she’d never known. Would never know. It was too dangerous.

  A rapping sound made her jump. Flipping off the bathroom light, she walked toward the adjoining doors where Adam was knocking. “Yes?”

  “Have you called?”

  “Not yet. I”

  “Good. Daphne wasn’t at the resort, and I’ll bet she’s at the hangar with Walt and Josh. I don’t have that number. Besides, when you call, I’d like to be there so I can talk to her.”

  “All right.” She unlocked the door and opened it. Had she really expected the doors between their rooms to stay closed?

  Adam walked in, and immediately the atmosphere of the room became electric. “Nice place you have here.”

  She made a brave attempt at humor. “Wait’ll you see the view.”

  He smiled, and she wondered if she dared ask him to stop doing that. His smile made her heart squeeze.

  “My view’s just as great,” he said. “All those cars. I could sit and watch them for hours.”

  “We didn’t even think to ask for the river side.” She hadn’t been capable of thinking much at all while they’d registered. “I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

  Adam walked to the window and pulled back a flowered drape. “A view is a funny thing. We’re told that a river is beautiful and a parking lot is ugly. But if you look at the lot as a mosaic of colors and constantly changing patterns, if you look for pictures in the asphalt instead of pictures in the clouds, why couldn’t you enjoy a view of the parking lot?”


  She doubted he’d said that to produce any effect in her. It was just a typical Adam remark, but she’d forgotten how much she loved his way of seeing the world. They’d had sexual tension between them—and it still existed—yet the strengthening bonds had been woven of remarks like this one, and her delight in them. They’d built their young love on mutual respect. He’d appreciated her gift for capturing beauty on film, and she’d cherished his inquisitive mind.

  “You make me wish I had my camera,” she said, her voice a little husky. But she wouldn’t take pictures of the parking lot, although it was a unique idea. She’d focus on Adam and try to capture the soft gray light that picked out the prominent features of forehead, nose and chin, while feathering over his cheekbones and daubing shadows below the bone, across his eyes, and in the creases beside his mouth. But then for her peace of mind she’d have to destroy the pictures, so what was the point?

  He turned, his face fully illuminated by the lamp on the bedside table. “Are you still doing landscapes?”

  “Some.”

  “Remember that sunrise shot at Red Rock Crossing?”

  Her heart rhythm seemed to falter. “Sure.” She wished he hadn’t mentioned that picture. A print of it still hung over her father’s fireplace. Her dad wouldn’t hear of taking it down, so she’d taught herself not to look at it. Adam had been with her that morning beneath an opalescent sky that had gradually blushed pink, then shaded to robin’s-egg blue.

  Cathedral Rock dominated the buttes that surrounded the crossing. With the sun rising behind it, the sandstone had remained in shadow, its dark spires backlit in gold. Oak Creek had lain wide and shallow at their feet, its gently rippling surface mirroring the buttes and the unfolding brilliance behind them. This is where we’ll be married, Adam had said. At sunrise. And she’d believed him with all her heart.

  He gazed at her now, as if trying to bridge the long span of years.

  Resolutely, she turned toward the telephone on the bedside table. “We’d better make our call.” They could never get back those years. They were gone forever. That Loren and Adam were gone forever, too. Taking a steadying breath, she picked up the receiver. “I’ll talk to Dad first.”

  She dialed and glanced over at Adam. He still faced her, hands in his pockets, but his head was bowed. Perhaps he, too, had had a glimpse of the vast chasm. One passionate kiss didn’t eliminate all the years of unshared experiences. Once they’d known nearly everything about each other. Now they knew almost nothing.

  Her father answered the phone.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Thought it might be you. The weather hit here about an hour ago. Had to close the hangar door, it was blowing so bad.”

  “A second front is right behind that one, so batten down the hatches.”

  “Will do. You and Adam are staying put, I trust?”

  Adam was gazing at her now.

  “Yes, we’re spending the night in Laughlin,” she said, keeping her tone businesslike. “Fortunately, they had a couple of rooms left.”

  Adam smiled. He probably guessed she’d made that last statement on purpose.

  “As long as you’re with Adam, I’m not concerned.”

  You should be, she thought. “We won’t take any dumb chances. The weather should clear up by morning, so we’ll get the pictures then and head on home. We’ll be back before noon.”

  “Sounds like a reasonable plan. We’re fine here, so don’t worry about a thing. The plane okay?”

  “Last time I saw it. We tied it down good and tight. Listen, Dad, is Daphne there, by any chance?”

  “Yes.”

  Loren looked at Adam and nodded. He started toward her.

  “Daphne’s been helping us this afternoon,” Walt told her. “Said she needed something to do, and she seems to know quite a bit about airplanes.”

  Great, Loren thought. Josh must be thoroughly smitten by now. “Adam wants to talk to her and explain the situation,” she said. “He thinks she might be a little disappointed that he’s not coming back tonight. This was supposed to be a father-daughter vacation, as well as a business trip, and it’s not turning out the way he planned.”

  “I’ll get her.”

  Loren held the receiver out to Adam and moved away from the bedside table. She walked over to the window and gazed out at the parking lot. It was a mosaic of color, and the rain had turned each roof into a polished sheet of stone.

  “Hi, Daphne.”

  Adam’s voice, so resonant and filled with affection, pushed past Loren’s defenses and tapped into a wellspring of longing that frightened her with its depth. She wanted him to use that tone with her, to hold her again, to kiss her... No! She forced herself to concentrate on the cars and pick out a pattern that would resemble a face or a common object. She had no luck.

  “Well, we ran into some trouble with the weather,” Adam said, obviously answering a question of Daphne’s.

  “In the morning,” he said after a pause. “Probably before lunch.”

  Loren abandoned all attempts to ignore the conversation. Somewhere along the way, she’d become invested in Adam’s attempt to reconnect with his daughter.

  “This isn’t what I expected, either, Daphne.” He sounded frustrated. “But the pictures are important to me.” Another pause. “Because Scorpio Steel’s involved in the bridge project. You knew that.”

  Loren winced. She understood that Adam hesitated to explain his underlying reasons for wanting to get the pictures, but without that reason, his explanation made it sound as if he was putting his business ahead of his daughter.

  “Daphne, I’m sorry about this, but” After a short silence, he swore and glanced at Loren. “Tell me the number for the hangar.”

  “What happened? Were you cut off?”

  He gestured with the receiver. “Daphne hung up on me.”

  Loren’s chest tightened and she crossed the room. “Adam, maybe you’d better tell her your suspicions about the diverted steel. She needs to know this isn’t an ordinary business matter.”

  “No.”

  “Why not? What harm can it do now that you’re ready to catch the guy red-handed?”

  “Daphne knows him and likes him. She’d never believe he’d do something like this, so I don’t want to say anything until I have real proof. If she’s really ticked off at me, she might even call and warn him.”

  Loren shook her head in disbelief. “You plan to incriminate one of Daphne’s friends on this trip, and she doesn’t even know about it? How do you ever expect to win her trust with maneuvers like that?”

  With a groan, he dropped the receiver into its cradle and massaged the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have brought her, but she practically begged to go. She hadn’t asked me for anything in a long time. Turning down this request would have seemed like a rejection.” He glanced at Loren. “I realize I should have refused, but...after the divorce it seemed as if it would be so easy to lose Daphne. I was afraid I’d wake up and discover she’d simply slipped out of my life.”

  Loren took pity on his anguish. “Maybe it’s not so bad. How close is she to this guy?”

  “She thinks he’s about to become her stepfather.”

  Loren was momentarily speechless. “Anita’s engaged to the contractor for this bridge?” she said at last. “How did that happen?”

  He grimaced. “I suppose I set it up. When I found out he was the contractor and my company was supplying the steel for this project, I decided to renew the acquaintance. I invited him over for dinner to meet the family. He obviously enjoyed himself.”

  Loren studied his face, reading between the lines. “You never told me the grounds for divorce.”

  “Incompatibility.”

  “A catchall phrase. What really happened?”

  “Less than a week after that dinner, I walked in on them.”

  “Oh, Adam.” Everything clicked into place. No wonder he considered Haskett capable of pirating steel, but that didn’t mean the man was
guilty of it. This whole escapade with the pictures might be some sort of vendetta. “Are you sure he’s diverting the steel? There couldn’t be bookkeeping errors, or perhaps someone in your own company who’s embezzling from you?”

  He frowned, his gaze assessing. “You think I’m trying to nail him because I’m the jealousy-racked husband, don’t you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I didn’t love her enough to be jealous, unfortunately.”

  She wanted to believe that. “But your pride certainly is involved.”

  “Pride, hell! The guy’s cost me half a million bucks. That’s how much the steel he’s stolen is worth.”

  “That much?” Loren was floored. If Adam could lose half a million dollars and not be bankrupt, then he had a more profitable business than she’d realized.

  “That much,” he said with a sigh. “I make a lot of money, and that was my appeal for Anita. If I hadn’t been such a terrific wage earner, she might have looked for greener pastures and taken Daphne with her. But even when she’d stopped caring for me, she’d fallen in love with the money.”

  Loren didn’t welcome the empathy that flooded through her. It only made her more vulnerable. But money had been Jack’s motivation for staying, too. “If you knew she was that mercenary, why did you stay?”

  “For Daphne. Just listening to her singing ‘Sesame Street’ songs when she was little or watching her swim like a dolphin in the pool was worth suffering through Anita’s indifference. I’m crazy about that kid. I wouldn’t have won custody so...”

  Loren nodded. “Depriving Josh of a father was no picnic. Josh loved his daddy. He hated me for a long time.”

  “I’m pretty sure Daphne blames me for the divorce. She knows her mother wasn’t very happy with me—and perhaps with good reason—but she doesn’t know anything about me finding Barnaby and Anita together, and I don’t want her to know. But it’s tough, sometimes, always being the bad guy.”

  “You’d better call her back, try to smooth things over.”

  He picked up the receiver. “If she’ll even talk to me.”

  “You have to try.” Loren recited the number while he punched buttons on the phone.

 

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