Tempted by Adam

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Tempted by Adam Page 4

by Williams, May

“Yep.” He went past her to pull a chain. The door rose, exposing a view of the harbor. His boathouse sat on the inlet overlooking the docks. A tug pushing a couple of barges went past, blasting its horn. In the distance, cranes loaded railcars onto a ferry.

  “That’s quite a view.” She removed the lens cap and snapped a few pictures.

  “Nothing fancy. Not like where you live.” She lowered the camera and focused on him. “Maggie told me where your place is.” Her house, a Victorian-style cottage, overlooked the wide beach, facing west over the bay.

  “I like it. At one time, I thought I’d buy the house, but not anymore.”

  “Because you’re leaving?”

  “That’s right.” Her firm words sliced through him.

  “I don’t get it.”

  She held up a hand. “The deal was I get to interview you, complete with a ride on your boat, then I tell you my story.”

  “It’ll be at least a week before I can take you out.”

  “I can be patient.” She turned her attention to his boat, making a slow trip around it.

  Patience used to be one of his best qualities. It had made him a successful gambler, not to mention a good petty officer during the war. But all the skills he’d amassed didn’t work with her.

  “No name? I thought that was customary,” she commented from behind the boat, where the words, Gable Boat Works, were carefully stenciled in blue on the varnished wood.

  “Can’t decide what to call her. Any suggestions?” He joined her at the rear of the boat.

  “I wouldn’t have the faintest idea. It must be like naming a child. Whatever you chose, you have to live with it and like it forever.” She took a photo of the company name. “What was the other boat called?”

  “Also a no-name.”

  “Maybe that was the problem. You broke tradition and the sea punished you.” Her tone was light and teasing.

  “Could be, but I was also an arrogant jerk.”

  “That may have had something to do with it.”

  “Is that how you see me?” He didn’t want to show how important her answer was to him.

  “Arrogant or a jerk?”

  “Take your pick.”

  “I never thought you were a jerk.”

  “Even when I kissed you at Maggie and Ned’s wedding?” He hadn’t meant to bring it up, but he wanted to know.

  “I attributed that to arrogance.”

  “So I’m arrogant.”

  “A little.” She tilted her head to the side, still focusing on his face. “But in a good way, I think. Although a few weeks ago...”

  “What?”

  “I might have seen things differently. Now...” Her smile and the warmth in her eyes when she trailed off made his nervousness melt away. Although he wanted to take her in his arms, he returned her smile and took her hand to guide her around the boat. Over the next hour, he explained every detail, feature, and selling point of his creation. She took pictures and asked so many questions she might have been approving him for a high security clearance.

  She drew from him the things he kept guarded from most people, like the expense involved in building the boat, his plans for more designs, and his aspirations for his company. He’d played all of these things very cautiously with others, even his friends. He compared it to a poker game. He had a royal flush, but he wanted the hand to play out to the end. If he announced the cards he held too soon, he might jinx himself. But she was a master at interviewing, and maybe he wanted to impress her just a little, so he laid all his cards on the table.

  ****

  She stuffed her pencil through the rings of her steno-pad and checked the camera. Three exposures left, and she wanted something a little less formal.

  “I need a couple more shots. Let’s make these less businessman and more boatbuilder. What do you usually wear to work in? Certainly not a tie and jacket.”

  “Coveralls.” He gestured to a worn blue garment hanging on a peg.

  “Would you mind?”

  “Nope. I prefer it.” He shed his jacket and tugged on the one-piece work outfit over his dress pants and white shirt.

  “You better lose the tie and roll up your shirt sleeves to hide them,” she said. He did as she asked, turning to her for approval when he was done. His white collar stuck out from the coveralls. Giving him the camera, she reached around his neck, tucking in the collar as her hands moved toward the front. Smoothing the last edges of the shirt to the inside, her fingers lingered on his chest for a second longer than they needed to. She forced herself to take a small step back. “There. Now you look like a working man.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “Sure. Suits you.” She kept her answer light, realizing she was stepping into dangerous territory for some reason.

  “But not you?” His dark eyes hardened, boring into her.

  “What?”

  “Your husband was an officer, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes, what’s that...”

  “Annapolis?”

  She nodded. “He went to the academy. I don’t see...”

  “Just take the pictures.” He thrust the camera into her hand and picked up some tools from a bench. While he pretended to work on the boat, she snapped the last few pictures on the roll. The earlier companionship between them now clicked away as fast as the film.

  Why the sudden animosity? Although Leo had been an officer and from a prestigious family, she was nobody by birth. She’d grown up in a small apartment over the garage on the estate where her parents served her husband’s family as chauffeur and housekeeper. If Adam thought she was some debutante snob, he had completely misjudged her.

  “The boat’ll be in the water in the next couple days. I can probably take you out for a ride in a week. Gives me a chance to let her soak and do a couple test runs. That’s if you’re still interested.”

  “I can write the article from what I got today. Don’t worry about taking me. It’s not necessary.” She walked to the door. “I’ll let you know when the piece will run in the paper. The timing is up to my editor. Could be any day in the next few weeks.” Her hand was on the knob and she was inching it open when he placed his hand well above her head, slamming it closed.

  “I’m sorry, Shells,” he whispered behind her. “It’s none of my business who your husband was. I acted like a jerk.”

  “Yes, you did.” She spun around, flattening herself against the door to keep as much room as possible between them. “I loved my husband. But he’s gone.” She kept her voice and face neutral and carefully used the past tense.

  “I know that.”

  “And I’m here with you, which I was enjoying until you got the chip on your shoulder.”

  “If I can remove that, would you consider going out with an arrogant, working-class jerk?”

  “Hey!” Ned’s voice came through the door. “Door’s stuck. Let me in. I’ve been given orders.” The wooden panels behind her back vibrated with Ned’s pounding.

  Still holding the door shut with one hand, Adam lowered his lips to hers, slowly closing the distance. Despite the thudding behind her, his kiss made everything mellow to a hazy glow. For the second time this afternoon, her arms went around his neck. Now, she pulled him closer, stretching her body up to mold against his and running her fingers through his dark hair.

  “Come on. I know you’re in there,” Ned persisted.

  Adam broke from the kiss, resting his forehead against hers.

  “What are you two doing?” Laughter reverberated outside. “Never mind. Stop over at my house when you’re...uh...done.”

  With her eyes still closed, Shelby felt the curve of Adam’s lips against her cheek as he smiled and the rumble of laughter in his chest, and she wondered how she’d lived without this kind of intimacy for so long.

  “I guess we better show ourselves.” He gently guided her from the door, wrapping his arm around her waist. A slice of bright sunlight shone in her face when he opened the door, blinding her for a second. Bl
inking to clear her vision, she saw Ned already on the opposite side of the road.

  “What do you want, Ned?” Adam called without relinquishing his hold on her. Ned’s face broke into a grin when he saw them together.

  “Mags says to come over when you’re done with the interview. Both of you, that is.” Ned paused to wave at one of his neighbors who poked her head out to see what was happening. “She’s making meatballs,” he called before disappearing into his house.

  “I don’t turn down Maggie’s meatballs. It’s a personal policy. All right with you?”

  “Sure, let me put these things in my car.” She opened the trunk and placed her notepad and camera inside. Adam hovered near her, rocking up on his toes and back down.

  “What are we going to tell them? She’s not going to feed us without an inquisition.” He caught her arm, sliding his hand down to hers.

  “About?” With her free hand, she secured the trunk.

  “About us.”

  “You want to analyze our kiss—”

  “Kisses,” he corrected.

  “Okay. Kisses.” She smiled at him, surprised by his show of nerves. “Over meatballs with friends when we haven’t even had a real conversation…”

  “That’s the problem. They are our friends. Ned’s in there right now telling Mags what he suspects.”

  “And Mags is peeking out the window to see what we’re doing.” Shelby nodded her head toward the home behind Adam.

  “You should kiss me. Give her something to think about. It might keep her quiet.”

  “Risky behavior, Mr. Gable,” she said, but she was already resting her hand on his chest.

  “I’m good at putting it all on the line.”

  “I have limited experience with that.” She leaned in close to him and dropped her voice. “I think you should know that I’ve played the odds more in the past few days than ever in my life.”

  “Does that mean you’ll kiss me? Because I want you to.” His hands went to her hips.

  With a glance at the vacant street, she lifted her face to his, parting her lips in invitation.

  Chapter Five

  Adam tied off to an old wharf close to Shelby’s beachfront home and cut the engine. He was no longer concerned about his craft’s performance. Over the past several days he’d put the twenty-four-foot wooden motorboat through her paces. Now, if he could just sell it to someone. With the Atlantic City Boat Show less than two weeks away, everything was falling into place with his business.

  Shelby was a different matter altogether. After the interview, she’d called a couple of times with more questions, but he hadn’t seen her and, dumbass that he was, he’d made no effort to contact her. He excused his behavior by claiming work and his boat kept him busy, but the reality was he had no idea what he was doing when it came to her.

  What seemed like the start of a relationship had gone nowhere over the past week, which was entirely his fault. Fortunately, he still owed her a boat ride in exchange for an explanation from her. It gave him the excuse he needed. After today, if he learned her decision to leave Cape Charles was irreversible, then he’d let her go without a word. It was her problem if she wanted to run away.

  From the wharf, her house stood out in the late-day sun with its coat of soft yellow paint. Wicker furniture with plump cushions waited for someone to rest on the porch. When Shelby came out of the house in crisp white slacks and a pale pink sweater, he remembered her position in the country club set. And his own position as a working-class dreamer. His rickety balcony had a view of the bay but was furnished with an old metal lawn chair. He had two bucks in his bank account and less in his pocket.

  “Hey.” She waved to him from the end of the wharf.

  “Pants. I like it.” Despite his misgivings about any relationship between them, he admired the way the fabric clung around her hips and thighs.

  “I thought it might get chilly toward sunset.” She came abreast of him now, and he didn’t know how to respond. A few days ago she was in his arms, expecting his kisses. Was that what she wanted now?

  “We won’t be out that long. A quick trip around the harbor, and then home.”

  A flash of disappointment appeared on her face. “I promise not to get seasick, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Bay’s smooth as glass today. I figure you’ll be okay.”

  “Then don’t cut the trip short.” Still on the pier, she walked the length of the boat, inspecting it as it bobbed in the water. When she reached the back, she giggled. “You named her. How appropriate!” She tilted her head to better see the word Eve painted in navy letters above the company name.

  “I expect her to be the first of her kind.” He hopped into the boat, turning to help her in.

  “And since you’re Adam...” She dropped over the side easily without his assistance and began wandering the boat.

  “Exactly. I just hope this Eve doesn’t tempt me to get into too much trouble.” He waited for her to react to the interior of his boat. She could only peek over the top rail when it had been in its cradle at the boathouse. Now, she circled the inboard engine’s housing at the boat’s center, inspecting every detail.

  “The other day I didn’t understand why you wanted this,” she ran her hand along the top board, “to be navy. Now, I get it.” The cushions were the same deep color, with a wide white stripe through their centers. The dash area also merged the blue and white with the deeply varnished wood. “It looks sharp and masculine. Like you.”

  Adam considered asking her for a kiss, but decided taking was a better plan. The boat rocked when he pulled her into his arms, which gave him more reason to hang on to her. Her lips were soft and pliant, and her arms went around his neck with no hesitation. As they parted, he realized that her face no longer seemed sad to him.

  “What?” she asked when she caught him studying her.

  “Nothing.” Saying it might make the sadness return. “We should get under way.” He guided her to the front of the boat and started the engine.

  “Any chance of wet feet?” She called over the thrum of the motor as he spun the wheel, taking them past the wharf into open water.

  “Nope.”

  “Is that confidence or experience answering?”

  “Experience. I’ve had her out several times.”

  “What have you learned?” She stood next to him by the wheel, with one hand on the side rail like she’d been born on a boat.

  “Exactly what I wanted to. She’s fast and stable in the water. Ned couldn’t keep up.”

  “How fast?”

  “Let me clear the channel marker,” he indicated a red buoy, “and I’ll show you.” When he passed it, he eased the throttle open, and the Eve rapidly picked up speed. The scarf around Shelby’s head slipped loose in the wind and flapped around her neck. With closed eyes, she lifted her face to the sun as her blonde hair streamed behind her. He wanted to kiss her again but couldn’t take his eyes off the water, at this speed.

  He touched her arm and pointed to the ferry departing Cape Charles. The big boat picked up speed, leaving foamy, rough water after it. Adam made an undulating motion with his hand to indicate crossing the ferry’s wake. Then, he cocked his eyebrow in question. At her nod, he changed course to cut perpendicularly behind the ferry. When they neared the wake, he slowed his craft slightly, taking the steering wheel in one hand and wrapping a steadying arm around her.

  The Eve dipped up and down through the water, sometimes hitting the water with a sharp smack, sometimes pitching and rolling in the valley of a wave. Ned lifted his hat and bowed from the deck of the ferry, and his uncle blew the horn from the pilothouse.

  When they reached calmer water, Adam reduced the speed to an idle, glad to hear the engine’s soft purr, and then turned it off. He took a quick inspection of his boat before returning to where Shelby stood, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yep. I did it right this time.


  “I’ll say. I think she’s a perfect little boat.” When he pulled a beer from a cooler tucked beneath a seat and poured it into a paper cup for her, she added, “Clever place for the beverages.”

  “I tried to think of everything the average couple or family might need on board, which in your case included cups with the drinks.”

  “Thanks for thinking of me. Not a good idea to drink beer through a straw.” She took a sip from her cup. “You’re pleased with your creation?”

  “Yep. It’s probably not as fancy as the boats you grew up with, but...”

  She gave him a perplexed stare. “What boats? My grandparents had a little wooden rowboat for fishing. Other than that, I don’t recall ever being on a boat as a kid.” She wandered to the back, taking a seat.

  He leaned against the engine’s housing and took a sip of beer while he processed what she’d said. “I thought you...”

  “Came from money?”

  “Yeah. It’s no secret you don’t have to work, and you look…” He took in her relaxed pose. “Classy.”

  She glanced behind her to where Cape May shimmered in the early evening sun. “My parents worked for my husband’s family. Mom was the housekeeper, and Dad drove their car and did some gardening.” He started to say something, but she held up a hand for him to wait. “We lived in an apartment, much smaller than my house, over the garage. We were barely middle class, but Mom and Dad worked hard to make sure their kids had a good life.”

  “Do your parents still work...” He stopped speaking when the flicker of pain edged across her face.

  “They both died before I was twenty. Flu epidemic. I was at school when they passed away. When I returned to clean out their apartment, I met Leo again.”

  “Didn’t you already know him, if you lived there?”

  “Yes, but he was six years older and had been away at Annapolis and duty stations, so it was like we were meeting for the first time.”

  Adam could have kicked himself for bringing the subject up. All the sadness he’d ever seen in her face had flooded back in the past few minutes. He hated asking it, but he had to know something. “So it was love at first sight?”

 

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