Adam (7 Brides for 7 Soldiers Book 2)

by Roxanne St Claire

  Except that sitting on his lap and kissing him just made her want to…let him take down walls. And she’d spent so many years carefully building, tending, and strengthening those walls, she didn’t know what would happen when they came down, but it would be—

  “Don’t you think, J?”

  She startled at Adam’s question and the latest nickname. But it was easier than remembering what to call her in front of others.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was concentrating on”—she squinted at the map in front of her—“the Seventh Army attack at the Battle of the Bulge in 1944. How incredibly cool is that?”

  “Oh man,” Ford groaned. “You need to marry her, stat.”

  Jane’s shoulders tightened as she waited for Adam’s groan of disdain. But when one didn’t come, she turned to him. He was staring at her, a look of sheer dismay on his face.

  Something curled through her, something hot and needy. Something that could make her slip, make her share, make her take down a few bricks. Something that terrified her.

  “What?” she asked when he didn’t look away.

  He shook his head, then seemed to catch himself. “No, I was just thinking that…my grandfather’s going to love this. He was there. All the founders were there, and they lost a lot of friends. Fought on Christmas Eve, as the story goes.”

  “Do you think they would sign some of the pictures for us?”

  Adam still had that funny look on his face as he regarded her. “I think they’d like that,” he said.

  “Not if they all have to come at the same time,” Wyatt chimed in from his perch on a fifteen-foot ladder where he was disassembling the shutters. “John Westbrook won’t be in the same room as Max Tucker.”

  “That might be changing,” Adam said. “My grandfather wouldn’t be alive if not for Ryder Westbrook. Every step we take to make this feud die before they do is a step in the right direction.”

  Jane beamed at him. “I love that.”

  “Thanks,” he mumbled, then turned back to his task of holding a two-by-four on the sawhorse.

  “So you’ll tell him?” she asked.

  “Sure.” He cleared his throat and lifted the two-by-four. “Let’s put this one in, Ford.”

  Jane might have been imagining it, but something had changed Adam. And she wanted to know what. That would probably cost her a little piece of herself.

  Which, deep inside, she wanted to give.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Adam woke at three in the morning because, after a few beers and a day of hard labor, Ford snored like a Rottweiler. Lying on the bunk bed, which now had a mattress thanks to an afternoon delivery, he stared up at the moonlight coming through one of the windows Wyatt had uncovered by taking down the shutters.

  Jane had been right about what a difference it made. The light changed everything, bringing the outside in and making the vast area less like a bunker and more like a home.

  They had the beds set up in the living area until the stairs were finished, so he couldn’t go up to the loft to actually see the view. Shame, since the mountains would be visible and stunning under the full moon that lit the sky.

  Restless just thinking about that, he pushed up, the movement causing Ford, ten feet away, to grunt, turn, and rev up his engine again.

  Adam sat on the side of the bed for a moment and heaved out a breath. He should be sleeping, but…he ached for something.

  Outside, he suspected. Even with the exposed windows—maybe because of them—he was reminded that he subsisted on gulps of fresh air, the sound of rushing water, and the brisk chill of spring in the Blue Mountains. He needed those things like a man needed food, shelter, and…sex.

  That might be what he really ached for tonight.

  He’d have to settle for air. Not bothering with shoes or a shirt, he quietly opened the front door and closed his eyes as the first wave of chilly breeze prickled his skin, bracing even through the sweats he wore.

  Sucking in the scent of pine and river water, he closed the door behind him and walked toward the boat docks, glancing at the kayaks and rafts bouncing in the moonlight, listening to the soft swish of the calm water lapping against them and, a little farther away, the splash of some current on the other side of the bridge.

  He waited for his soul to be soothed, but nothing was soothed. It was stirred, instead, so he walked a little farther, knowing that each step took him closer to the A To Z building, to his apartment upstairs, to the woman…sleeping in his bed.

  Nope. No soothing with that thought.

  Finally, he stopped and turned to look at the window he knew she slept behind. It was dark, of course, and that just made him think about Jane Anne Whoever She Was sound asleep with that silky hair on his pillow and that sexy body between his sheets. He could hear her sigh, imagine her turn, taste the first kiss when he woke her for—

  The light came on.

  For a second, he didn’t move, but stared up at the window knowing that if she looked out, she’d see him in the moonlight. See him stalking her, fantasizing about her, growing hard despite the cold air.

  But he didn’t move.

  Instead, he watched her silhouette rise from the bed and disappear into the darkness, knowing he had the perfect opportunity to get back into the boathouse and not get caught out here. He shouldn’t be obsessing about a woman who shared nothing but crumbs about her life. But he sensed her vulnerability and wanted to touch that as much as he wanted to touch every sweet inch of her body. Wanted to know her, help her, rescue her from whatever put that hint of pain in her dark eyes.

  But she wouldn’t open up.

  Of course, neither had he. He blinked into the night as the realization hit. He’d never told anyone the details about the kid he hadn’t been able to save. Never confided in a friend or father or sibling what it did to him. Never opened up and let himself be vulnerable.

  Was that what it would take?

  Her shadow moved again as she climbed back on the bed that was squeezed so tight into an alcove that a person couldn’t walk on either side. He could barely stuff the sheets down the sides after he washed them. Which he might not do the first night he slept there again. He might just inhale the essence of her and—

  The glass pane moved. A screech that he recognized as the lever that cranked the window. He knew the sound so well from the dozens of nights he’d wake and crave more air. As if he were in that bed next to her, he sucked in deeply, filling his lungs, but not his need.

  “How long you going to stand out there, Tucker?” Her voice floated across the expanse, amplified by water and crystal-clear air.

  “Until you invite me up, No Name.”

  In the moonlight, he could see her hand reach out the window and her fingers move, beckoning him.

  Swallowing, he hesitated just long enough to know he really had no choice. If he wanted her to open her heart, soul, and body, he’d have to do the same.

  His chest grew tighter with each step. He used the keypad entry on the back door of A To Z, then relocked it before making his way to the stairs that led to his apartment. He knew his way, even in the dark. When he turned the doorknob, he realized she must have unlocked the door for him.

  Inside, she’d turned the light off again. He took a few steps into the living room, then rounded the kitchen to see the moonlight streaming in over his bed and…his girl.

  “You always walk around half dressed in the middle of the night?” she asked.

  “It’s not that unusual,” he admitted, slowly approaching the bed. “I told you I hate rooms.”

  “Then why’d you come into one?”

  “Because you’re in it.” He reached the bed, his knees against the mattress, his throat tight with anticipation and desire and maybe a little confusion. “I want to tell you something, Jane.”

  “’Kay.”

  “I want to tell you something I’ve never told anyone.”

  He heard her swallow. “Is this another one of those exchange of informat
ion deals you like so much?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Without the kissing.” She sounded just a little disappointed.

  “Maybe with the kissing.”

  She laughed softly and patted the quilt that Brenda had made him before he went into the Coast Guard. “Come on. There’s room for two.”

  “I’ve never had two on this bed,” he admitted as he put his weight on the mattress and the bed squeaked a little.

  “Really? Why does that surprise me?”

  “Because you think I’m some kind of player, I guess.” He crawled a little closer, already dizzy from the first scent of something floral and feminine.

  “Not really, but I can’t imagine you spend a lot of nights alone.”

  “All of them. At least the ones I spend here.” He’d spent them other places after the occasional mediocre date. But he hadn’t had a relationship long enough in Eagle’s Ridge to bring someone home for the night.

  Now, he still didn’t have a relationship. A fact he sincerely wanted to change.

  He finally reached the pillow and put his hand on the glass where most beds would have a headboard. “You closed the window.”

  “I was freezing. And you…” Her searing palm pressed against his air-cooled bare chest. “Are like ice.”

  “Not everywhere.” He situated himself next to her, but stayed on top of the quilt. If he so much as lined his body up with hers, she’d know exactly how cold he wasn’t. While that may have been why he got this invitation, it wasn’t the first order of business.

  She turned a little, facing him, her eyes glinting with moonlight and arousal. “What do you want to tell me?”

  “About the worst day of my life.”

  She stared at him as that sank in. “Is this because you want quid pro quo information about me that I’m withholding? Or is it because you think I’ll sleep with you? Or do you think it’ll make you feel better to get this off your chest and I’m a stranger you’ll never see again? I want to know your motivation.”

  For a long time, he didn’t answer, because he wanted nothing but the truth to pass his lips. Of course, the answer was all of the above, but something was missing from her list. “I feel something for you,” he finally whispered. “An attraction? Yes. From the minute I saw you, there was that.”

  She frowned. “You mocked my makeup and clothes.”

  “Only because, deep inside, I wanted to mess up your lipstick and take off your pretty white sweater.” He placed his hand on her cheek, stroking the silky skin, outlining her jaw, then sliding up to let his fingertip slowly slide over her eyelid. “It just took me a few days.”

  Her lips curled in a sweet smile that had him wondering just what she had on under these blankets. That didn’t help him concentrate on his tale of woe.

  “Anyway,” he continued. “It’s this feeling I have that makes me want to share. More than attraction, maybe you’d call it…connection.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?” He couldn’t help sounding hopeful. “You feel it, too?”

  “I feel…” She waited a long time, thinking, searching his face. “Like I went too close to that ridge and I’m leaning over and a good strong wind could push me right off. And then I’d fall.”

  “And then I’d catch you.”

  She smiled. “You really do want sex.”

  “That can’t surprise you, Jane Anne With No Last Name.”

  “You don’t need a last name to sleep with me, do you?”

  “Yes.”

  She closed her eyes. “Don’t make me invent another one.”

  She would do that? He slipped his hand around the back of her neck, inching her a little closer. “I’m not going to make you do anything. Except listen.”

  On a sigh, she nestled close to him, letting the quilt be their only barrier. “I am listening.”

  “On one of my last, well, my very last mission, I lost someone.” He’d said the words before, but they still never felt right. Never comprehensible.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, touching his face, too. “I can only imagine what that does to you.”

  “No, you can’t. You can’t imagine the feeling of a body being ripped out of your hands, taken away by a rogue wave, whisked into a storm, and dead at seventeen, all because you didn’t move fast enough.”

  “Adam.” She stroked his cheek. “I would bet anything you moved heaven and earth to save that kid. You can’t stop the ocean.”

  “No, but I’m supposed to be able to get someone out of it,” he said through clenched teeth. “I could only take one kid at a time, but I knew if I was fast enough, good enough, I could get the other one.”

  She sat up a little, her hand moving to his shoulder as if she knew he needed to have this story coaxed out. “Where were you? When was this?”

  He closed his eyes and fell deeper into her touch. “I was stationed in Kodiak, Alaska,” he said. “Best gig of my life. I loved the place, which reminded me of home. The work was hard, the rescues were hairy, my crew was awesome.” He stopped for a minute, remembering how settled he’d been. Grounded. Doing what he was meant to do. Surrounded by mountains, water, and purpose. “That job’s a coup for any AST because conditions are rough and every mission is a brush with death. You swim in forty-degree water, get some bodies in the basket, and it’s a high like no other.” Until…it wasn’t.

  She sank down again, getting closer. “I cannot imagine doing that for a living.”

  “I can’t imagine not doing it.” Except…he wasn’t. “Anyway, we were out doing training when we got a call that a fishing boat about fifty miles away started taking on water. Stopped training, headed there, and on the way, we found out that the boat had been stolen by some kids.”

  “Really.”

  “I know, it sounds stupid, but these kids are so bored. They work in the cannery and have nothing to look forward to. They drink, constantly. Smoke weed, get in trouble.”

  “What happened?”

  “They were capsized by the time we got there. Conditions were bad. Waves were twenty-five to thirty feet, and the wind gusts were at least fifty knots. Bad enough that the CO had to waive the standard and go in anyway, because they were kids and they had no other chance.” He closed his eyes, still feeling win buffet him as he hung from the winch cable, fighting with everything to get to the three kids flailing in the turbulent waters. If only there hadn’t been three.

  After a minute, he continued. “It was too windy for a basket to take two, or a litter for one body. I had to carry them on the wire myself, one at a time. I brought one up, no problem. They got the helo right over the other two. I went down, but they were holding on to each other, which was dragging them both under. They started fighting to be next, kicking at each other, taking water, pulling at my gear.”

  “Panicked?”

  “Completely. I just sensed it, you know. I felt it in my bones.”

  “What?”

  “The wave. A big one. Rogue. You do this long enough and you know the rhythm of the sea, and I knew that whoever I took, the other one was probably going to die. I knew it.” He squeezed his eyes shut, seeing the desperation in Dalton Butcher’s eyes. The plea for life. The fear of death.

  “Training kicked in,” he said. “I took the one closest and gave the other kid a life preserver. I locked up the first one and hooked us up for the ride. I went straight back down, but just as I hit the water, the wave rolled over and, of course, he lost the life preserver.”

  “Oh no.”

  “I was wired with slack so I dove under and got him. I had him. I had him, Jane. I could feel his body, his wet clothes, he was alive, and…” He shook his head. “And then I lost him. I tried and tried, but…it just wasn’t enough.”

  “Oh, Adam.”

  “We found his body about a hundred feet away.”

  She tightened her grip on him. “But surely you go into this knowing you can’t save everyone.”

  Did he? “I had him, Jane.”
He heard his voice crack and didn’t care. “I had him and lost him.”

  “In a rogue wave? Aren’t those massive? Anyone could be powerless against that.”

  “But I had him and lost him.” It was his mistake. “That shouldn’t happen.”

  “But it did. And it’s awful for you.”

  “For me? How about his mother?” He could still see the anguish in Nadine Butcher’s eyes as she wept over a son who had been lost even before that wave took him away. “She’d tried so hard with that kid. But he was messed up, stuck, miserable. And now he’s dead.”

  Jane braced on her elbow to look down at him. “That’s why the boathouse is so important to you. Why you want to make a place for kids like that and give them what you love. The outdoors and freedom and that bone-deep appreciation for the power of nature will give them something to focus on that’s not self-destructive.”

  “Yeah.” Wasn’t that obvious? “And now they’ll have that place.” He managed a smile. “And not just any place. A place with a voice, as you say.”

  She ignored the comment, too intent on him. “You need to let go of that guilt, Adam Tucker. You put yourself through AST training four times in order to have the chance to save that boy. A bigger power took him away.”

  He knew that, deep inside. But still.

  “Like you said, that’s what you’re trained to do. You shouldn’t second-guess the choice you made.”

  He puffed out a breath. “The kid I saved? Joshua Freeman.”

  “Did he thank you?”

  “He shot himself in the head three weeks later.”

  “Ooof.” She grunted. “That’s horrible.”

  “That’s what got me. That’s when I quit. I was planning to extend my contract to stay in Kodiak, but my time was about up, and I just requested a discharge.” Monumentally stupid at halfway to retirement pay, but he’d done it anyway.

  “I understand that,” she said, the sympathy in her voice as soothing as her touch. “That doesn’t make you a quitter, Adam. You’re still Tenacious Tuck.”

  He snorted. “Haven’t rescued a person since.” He barely whispered the rest of the confession. “Not sure I can.”