Adam (7 Brides for 7 Soldiers Book 2)

by Roxanne St Claire

  “Careful, Jane. You might let a new personal fact slip out.”

  “My bad.”

  He took her hand and lined her up so they were face-to-face. “No, it’s good. You know why?”

  “Why?”

  “I told you, I only kiss women I know very well. The more I know, the more I can…” He leaned closer and placed the lightest kiss on her forehead. “So, you were born and raised in Miami?”

  He heard her sigh. “Yeah.”

  And he kissed her again. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “I’ve never been west of the Mississippi until this trip.”

  He drew back. “Really?”

  “I’ve never had money for travel,” she said, keeping her face down and not looking at him. “Everything I’ve had I used to get my education and then start my consulting business. It really only just took off in the last two years, but I had so much work, I couldn’t go anywhere.”

  Letting that sink in, he used his fingertips to tip her chin. “That was a lot of real information,” he said with a slight smile. “I’m going to have to kiss you for that.”

  She smiled back. “Yeah. You better.”

  He did, slowly, sweetly, barely a real kiss. He wanted to hold back and get more from her. More kisses. More revelations.

  When she leaned back, she slipped her lower lip under her teeth as if she were still tasting him. “You’re good at that.”

  “Kissing?”

  “Getting me to tell you stuff.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and slowly slid them up each side to her neck, threading his fingers into her hair until he reached a clip that he snapped out, and it all came tumbling down. “Your hair kills me.”

  “In a good way?” She shook her head a little, letting the waves fall.

  “In a ‘I want to bury myself in it’ way.”

  “Mmm.” She leaned into him, turning her head to offer him access to do just that. Pressing his face into the black silk, he inhaled and felt her shudder when he breathed on her neck. “It’s my natural hair color.”

  He lifted his head. “I never doubted that.”

  She gave him a teasing look. “That was personal information, Adam. It counts.”

  “Oh, you want to be kissed again.”

  Smiling, she gave a tiny nod. “Maybe once.”

  “Maybe twice.” He wrapped his arms around her and easily pulled her onto his lap, leaning back into the side of one of the bunk beds as they kissed longer and deeper and with way more intention than they ever had.

  His blood instantly heated, leaving his brain and heading south. “See how easy it is to get what you want?” he whispered, tipping her head back to kiss her throat and rub his thumb along her collarbone.

  “All I have to do is talk.”

  “Truth talk,” he reminded her. “You can’t just make things up to get me to do what you want.” He held her gaze while his fingertips slowly trailed down her breastbone, almost not touching her, but he instantly felt her rock slightly in response. “So tell me something, Jane.”

  She let out the softest breath and dropped her head back a little bit, silent, her bottom sinking a little deeper and heavier on his lap. “That feels good,” she said, whispering the words into his ear with a kiss. “I wish it didn’t feel quite that good, but it does.”

  The sexy words tightened him, hardened him, and made her fully aware of what she was doing to him. What they were doing to each other.

  But she was still practically a stranger. And that slayed him. “How about your middle name?”

  She laughed lightly. “Yours really is Tenacious.”

  “True.” He kissed her some more, turning her a little, inviting her to straddle his hips. Their tongues tangled, and he lost a little control and moved his hand over her breast, rewarded with a moan and a precious budded nipple against his palm.

  “Anne,” she whispered.

  “Jane Anne.” He dragged this new information out with the same slow intention he caressed her breast.

  “Mmm.” She heated up the kiss, taking what she’d earned with her next revelation. “The two plainest names in the world.”

  “I think Jane Anne is the sexiest…” He thumbed her nipple. “Sweetest…” He settled his other hand on her ass. “Softest name I’ve ever heard.”

  She rocked over him, wrapping her arms around his neck for full-body contact. “You’re crazy.”

  “Getting there.” He rose and fell as their breathing grew as tight as his jeans. “One more little tidbit of information and the boathouse is going to get christened.”

  She stilled and lifted her head, meeting his gaze with hooded, heavy, arousal-dark eyes. “Would that be so bad?”

  “No, it would be so good. But…” He stroked her breast again, holding her gaze for the fun of watching what one single thumb could do to her. He could do so much more. “You need to know it won’t be enough.”

  She studied him. “You want inside and out, don’t you?”

  He slipped a finger into sweet, warm cleavage. “Yes, I do.”

  “Sex isn’t enough for you?” Her voice was tight, tentative.

  “We can start with sex.” He kissed her, delving his finger deeper, growing harder with each silky touch. “But I want to know who you are. What you’re made of. Why you are so freaking sexy and vulnerable and…” He moaned, touching a hot, smooth nipple. “Did I mention sexy?”

  He felt her stiffen, felt all the sweet melting of her body disappear. “No.”

  “Jane.” He slid his hand up to cup her face. “Jane Anne…whoever you are. What is it that you are so scared of sharing with me?”

  She just looked at him, shocking him as her eyes grew moist. “Everything,” she echoed. “No one is allowed in. No one.”

  “Why not?” He searched his brain for a possible reason for her secrecy and came up with only one thing. She wasn’t who or what she said at all. That was the only explanation for her wall of silence about so many things.

  “Because I draw that line. I’m not sharing my deepest and darkest secrets with you, Adam. My body? Yeah. Please. But that’s all.”

  Disappointment thudded. “I want more,” he admitted in a husky voice.

  “You think telling you the things I prefer to keep buried is going to make sex better?”

  He drew back. “No. I think it’s going to make you better.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Really. He stroked her cheek, pulling her closer to inhale the sweet, floral scent of her hair and whisper in her ear, “You’re not fine, Jane Anne Whoever. You need an emotional lifeline, and I’m just the rescuer to throw it.”

  She moaned a little, shivered, and pressed her mouth to his shoulder. Then she lifted up her head and looked him right in the eyes. “No, thank you.”

  Damn it. Damn it.

  “Then I’ll sleep alone.” Very slowly, he eased her off his lap, seeing the flash of disappointment in her eyes. Or maybe a little relief. He ached, miserably hard, his whole body humming with the need for release.

  His body. Not his brain and not his heart.

  A liar, a fake, a woman who could disappear tomorrow and he’d never know where to find her? It didn’t matter how much he wanted her.

  “I’ll walk you back to my place, then sleep in here again tonight.”

  She closed her eyes. “Okay.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Fifteen minutes late to meet Ford, Adam hustled past the snack kiosks in the Eagle’s Ridge airport terminal. There were enough travelers dragging suitcases away from the small gate area to know Ford’s commuter flight, one of only a few commercial flights a day, had landed on time.

  Adam had worked with Jane all morning on the boathouse, not in cold quiet but not exactly with her on his lap again, either. By mutual silent agreement, they hadn’t discussed how last night had ended. Paint colors, stair placement, and one more argument from her that the shutters had to come down from the windows, but nothing real. Nothing of
substance.

  The lack of it made his jaw ache from clenching.

  He’d lingered on the install of the last of the kitchen cabinets, not anxious to leave her, even though it meant getting some more muscle in the place. But she was deep into her wallpaper map and had started painting color samples on the remaining walls. When he asked if she wanted to come with him, maybe get lunch on the way, she just shook her head and returned to the project in front of her.

  Did she feel rejected by him? Angry? Embarrassed? Or just intractable in her decision to not trust him or let him trust her? Sorry, but he wasn’t willing to compromise his principles just for sex with her.

  Which might have been the dumbest thing he’d ever done, come to think of it. Sure made for a long and lonely night.

  Rounding the corner to a waiting area outside one of two gates, Adam did a double take at the sight of three men talking not far from the gate. It certainly didn’t surprise him that Ryder Westbrook would be at the airport he now ran. Adam knew Ford would give his cousin a heads-up that he was coming, even if he wanted to avoid the rest of his family.

  But what the holy hell was Wyatt Chandler doing here? The unexpected sight of one of his best friends brought a smile to Adam’s face as he headed toward the group. Like Ford, the husky Navy SEAL stood straight and tall, a hoodie covering the muscles he’d built over the years in Special Ops.

  The three of them turned as he approached, and Ford was the first to extend a hand for a shake and a fist on the back.

  “So much for keeping secrets in Eagle’s Ridge,” Ford said on an easy laugh. “Got on the plane, and this ugly face was the first one I saw.” He shot his thumb at Wyatt.

  “Well, there’s only two flights in from Spokane a day,” Wyatt said. “Had a fifty-fifty chance.”

  “Not for long,” Ryder added.

  “Damn. It’s good to see you.” Adam greeted Wyatt with the same shake and hug, adding an extra punch on the back for his good friend. Neighbors and friends since they were young, they’d always had the bond of being west-side kids, unlike Ford and Ryder, who came from the tonier end of town. “Are my suckass construction skills so legendary you had to get leave to help out?”

  Wyatt gave a quick laugh and raked his hair back with a moment’s hesitation before answering. “I’m out for good, man.”

  Out? “You quit the SEALs?”

  “You quit the Coast Guard,” he reminded him, which took Adam straight back to when they were about eleven and thirteen, hanging out on the river one day and coming across a kayaker in trouble. The save was simple, but the adrenaline rush of a rescue was a high they’d never forgotten.

  After that, Adam and Wyatt had talked endlessly about how Wyatt would be a HALO-jumping SEAL and Adam a Coastie AST. Their futures had been set…but now they were changed.

  “Well, shit happens,” Adam said, wondering if Wyatt’s reasons for leaving the military were anything like his. At one look in his friend’s whiskey-colored eyes, Adam suspected they were.

  “Heard your brother’s running a pool for how long until you saw a finger off,” Wyatt said, easily changing the subject.

  “This one?” He flipped off his friend with a laugh, then nodded to Ryder. “Saw the preconstruction fencing outside, Ryder. When does the expansion start?”

  “We break ground today, actually.” He gestured toward his work pants, boots, and T-shirt. “I’m pitching in.”

  “Too bad,” Adam said. “I thought maybe you were dressed to help build stairs and…” He glanced at Wyatt, getting an idea that would make one interior designer very happy. “Take down shutters.”

  “Whatever you need, dude,” Wyatt said.

  Ryder nodded, taking a step closer. “Seriously, Adam. Bailey told me that your deadline got sawed in half.”

  “Instead of your arm,” Ford added under his breath.

  “Yeah, I’m up against it, for sure. And, of course, there’s a Zane Tucker bet against me.” He shot a grateful look to Wyatt and Ford. “But I’m feeling better about beating his ass now.”

  “What’d ya bet?” Wyatt asked.

  A slow smile pulled at Adam’s lips. “Loser has to cover Diana Woods’s front porch in roses.”

  The eruption of laughter could be heard all over the airport, followed by Ryder and Ford fist-bumping at the sheer perfection of the bet.

  “Oh, Miss Woody.” Wyatt bit his lip and gave a quick air jerk. “How you wrecked our poker game concentration with that fuzzy pink sweater.”

  Ryder snorted. “The sweater I had to sneak a sticky note on after losing one of Zane’s idiotic bets.”

  “A sticky note with your phone number,” Adam reminded him with a hearty laugh.

  “Zane’s going down,” Ford said. “After all the shit he put us through that year?”

  “All the more reason you need help,” Ryder said. “I can take the weekend off.”

  Adam blinked in surprise at the offer. He and Ryder had never been close, but they shared a pack of friends. And now they shared a mutual love of Bailey, and the sooner Adam accepted that, the happier his little sister would be.

  “That’d be great,” he said to Ryder. “Zane’ll shit, too.”

  “He will when Miss Woody finds him up to his ass in rose petals and we got the cameras on,” Wyatt said.

  “Damn,” Ford muttered. “Now I want to stay for that.”

  “Let’s do this,” Wyatt said, giving Adam a nudge.

  “I’ll come over after work tonight,” Ryder added.

  “Bring beer,” Ford told him as he slung a duffel bag over his shoulder. “And remember, not a word to anyone. You didn’t see me here.”

  “Got it.” Ryder nodded.

  After they said goodbye and headed to Adam’s truck, Adam glanced at Wyatt again, still not believing he was here. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting out?” he asked.

  Wyatt shrugged as he pulled open the back cab door. “Figured you’d find out soon enough.”

  “What’re you going to do?” Adam asked.

  “Not sure yet.” Wyatt turned to Ford. “Is Garrison Construction hiring, by any chance?”

  “Hell if I know.”

  Wyatt snorted. “It’s only your family, man.”

  “Family’s business, not mine.”

  “I could use some help finishing the boathouse,” Adam said. “Pay sucks, but I’ll buy you drinks at Baldie’s for a month.”

  “Whatever,” Wyatt said as he yanked a seat belt on.

  Adam studied him in the rearview mirror as he fired up the truck. His friend seemed distant, different. He had an almost vacant look Adam remembered all too well after he’d left the Guard.

  “You better have gotten good lumber,” Ford said as he climbed into the passenger seat. “’Cause I’m building some excellent stairs.”

  “Actually, you’re building stairs that are going to…” He cleared his throat and made his voice distinctly different. “Emulate the mountains.”

  “What?” Ford choked the question.

  “You high or something?” Wyatt asked, meeting Adam’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

  “Something.” He laughed softly. “Brace yourselves, men. There’s an interior designer involved, and she has ideas.”

  “Not sure I like the sound of this,” Ford said.

  But Wyatt was grinning at him. Hell, Wyatt knew him better than anyone. “Don’t tell me. She’s blond, blue-eyed, and handles an oar like a Viking princess.”

  Ford cracked up. “You do have a type, Tucker.”

  “She’s not my type,” he said. Except when she was.

  * * *

  Jane thought the air was tight and space was small and the electricity fried the air when she was alone with Adam in the boathouse. That was nothing compared to what happened in that space when he walked in with two bruising Navy men who were ready to rock, roll, and finish “this em-effer” in a weekend.

  At first, she’d been bowled over. They were both jaw-droppingly hot, built l
ike gym rats who could kill with their bare hands, and hilariously irreverent. After introductions, some ribbing of Adam, and a serious discussion about taking the shutters down that took her to a new level of happy, she got used to having them there. Liked it, too.

  She walked them through her plans and rather than roll their eyes or mock her theme, they were remarkably supportive, high-fiving over some Navy memorabilia. Ford actually understood what she wanted to do with the stairs, suggesting risers that were painted like rocks and dirt that led up to a snowy peak at the top.

  When Adam told them about the propeller at Hildie’s House, it was almost impossible to hold them back from heading over there to get it.

  Hours later, the boathouse smelled of paint, wood, and the faint aroma of the burgers Adam had picked up at No Man’s Land for lunch.

  “You don’t care if my dad knows you’re in town, Ford, right?” Adam asked while the two of them sawed a long piece of lumber after a lunch break. “’Cause I may have mentioned it when I was over there.”

  “Five,” Ford answered.

  “What?”

  “We’re up to five people who know. You, Ryder, which also means Bailey, Wyatt, and now your dad.”

  “I know,” Jane said, swiping her shellac over the maps.

  “But you’re not a local,” Ford said, making no effort to tell her why he was keeping his presence a secret, and she didn’t want to be rude and ask.

  “You’d never know it,” Wyatt chimed in. “She knows more about this town than I do, and I was raised here.”

  “Spend a few hours with Hildie Fontana,” Jane replied. “You’ll know your history.”

  “I think it’s cool,” Wyatt said. “I love what you’re doing here.”

  She smiled her thanks and caught Adam’s eye, getting a little kick of satisfaction from his smile, too. That had been a little rare today, at least directed at her. He laughed plenty with his friends as they mercilessly shredded each other and themselves. But after last night, he’d been…distant. Guarded. Maybe a little mad at her.

  She understood his desire to know more about her, but he didn’t understand the can of worms he was trying to open. She was sorry he thought she was holding back personal information, but that wasn’t going to change.