‘I just wanted to check,’ Sienna said, glancing down and then back. ‘You seemed a bit …’ she trailed off, obviously trying to be diplomatic.
‘Drunk,’ Adam supplied. ‘I am a bit, but I’m okay. Thanks for checking I wasn’t lying in the car park, though. And, er, thanks for your note, by the way. It was … unexpected.’
Sienna looked indignant. ‘And thanks for your thanks. I’m glad you appreciated the goods,’ she said, those telltale bright spots flushing her cheeks and a pout on her infinitely kissable lips. If only Adam could lean forward without falling on his face, which though he seriously doubted it, he was tempted to try.
What did she mean, thanks for his thanks, though? Puzzled, Adam scrambled through his befuddled brain. Oh, hell. Nathaniel’s office! He’d been legless then, too. He hadn’t been able to come up with a single coherent word when he’d realised she was there. What a moron.
‘That was crass.’ Adam glanced sheepishly at his shoes. ‘I didn’t mean to be flippant. I meant …’ What? ‘I didn’t know what to say, with Nate there. I didn’t want you to think …’ Oh, sod it. ‘It was fantastic, Sienna. The, er … What we did, together. It was …’
‘Nor did I mean to be flippant,’ Sienna said, nipping nervously on her bottom lip. Oh, how Adam wished those were his teeth. ‘It was beautiful.’ She smiled right at him.
‘Really?’ Adam’s heartbeat ratcheted up a notch.
She nodded. ‘Really.’
‘Right.’ He swallowed. ‘I, erm …’ Say something, twit. Something romantic. Something half-intelligent. Anything. ‘Good,’ he said. Way to go, Adam. He sighed at his ineptitude, then sighed heavily again as the landlord emerged from the pub foyer.
‘Sienna! We’ve got a bar full of customers,’ he yelled. ‘Are you going to stand out there all night?’
Sienna rolled her eyes. ‘I have to go. Be careful how you walk home, Adam.’
‘I will.’ Adam nodded. ‘Sienna …’ he said quickly as she turned. ‘Are you all right? I mean, after … Are you okay?’
She looked back at him. ‘Perfect,’ she assured him.
Definitely. Adam smiled. ‘More than!’ he shouted through the rain, as she hurried back. ‘All over!’
She’d spoken to him. Bemused, Adam walked the first few yards slowly. She’d smiled at him. He picked up his pace, pulling the damp air into his lungs as he walked. She’d said it was … beautiful. Not amazing, with a come-hither look in her eye. Not spectacular, with a coy flutter of the eyelashes. Beautiful. She’d said it was …
Beautiful, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. Ever made love to. She was … lovely. Utterly, totally… Adam stopped and shook his head. Was it possible he was falling in love with her?
Contemplating, his brow furrowed, he started walking again. He was. His heart banged against his chest. Nice to meet you it said, then kicked its heels and did a backflip. Not falling. Fallen, hook, line and sinker. He loved her. He really did. Shit! He was soaking wet, too drunk to walk straight, and absolutely besotted. Laughing incredulously, he tugged up his collar and increased his pace to a jog.
Catching his breath, he stopped at the bridge over the river. ‘I love her.’ He practised it out loud. ‘I love her,’ he said it again, still not quite able to get his head around it. Then hitching himself up on the low-brick wall, he got precariously to his feet and, arms outstretched, shouted, ‘Sienna, I bloody well love you!’
The cows in the field weren’t very impressed. And nor, Adam realised, unaware of the car idling on the road until he turned, was Sherry.
Adam felt a bit of an idiot when he woke up to find he was hugging the pillow. He knew who he’d rather have been hugging. Chances she might reciprocate his feelings, though? Nil, mate, he told himself, ignoring the dull thud in his head and throwing back the duvet. Not unless he did something about himself, now as opposed to maybe, someday.
Reaching for his mobile and finding no message from Nicole, he forced back his disappointment, and went to ferret around in his bag for something suitable to wear. He hadn’t done this in a long time. Too long a time. He’d suffer for it initially, but no pain, no gain, he told himself.
‘You seem to be hovering a bit lighter,’ he addressed his seemingly more buoyant spectre. Was it possible Emily approved of Sienna? More likely she approved of the fact that he’d decided promiscuity and being in love with someone didn’t go well together. He’d never have been unfaithful to Emily. He probably shouldn’t be thinking of her now, but couldn’t quite keep the image of her from his mind, smiling up at him, replete, beautiful, after that first time they’d made love, the sun streaming in through the roof window of her studio apartment, accentuating her perfect nakedness. He hadn’t had to make a decision. He’d known there and then that he’d wanted to be with her. He should have told her there and then that he’d been intending to leave home, such as it was, and leave his waste of a family behind him. Adam considered what might have been if only he’d talked to her sooner as he turned away to tug on loose-fitting jogging pants and a vest. Then he realised he had actually turned away, as if there really was someone there, which was crackers, because Emily wasn’t actually there.
Insane. Certifiably. Or he soon would be if he kept this up. He really did need to clean up his act, get sober and stay sober. He’d shower when he got back from his run, he decided, pulling on his trainers and heading for the kitchen to satiate his overwhelming thirst. His throat always felt like sandpaper after having one too many the night before, which he was beginning to do most nights. Every night, he admitted. Grabbing a pint glass, he opened the fridge, and then closed it. No beer, he told himself firmly, turning to the sink and topping up with water instead. He’d have to get a bottle. An empty water bottle would do. He’d get one later.
Closing the front door behind him, he pulled in a breath – taking in the earthy after-rain smell on the damp country air – and then, bracing himself, he set off at a slow jog, at first, testing muscles he hadn’t used in a long time. Didn’t feel too bad, he decided, making sure to push his foot into the ground and drive through the balls of his feet. He’d need new trainers if his joints weren’t going to suffer. The ones he was wearing had no shock absorbency whatsoever. His feet would be sore, his calf and thigh muscles would too; he’d hit the wall hard, he guessed, but he’d push through it, now he felt he had something worth pushing for. God, he hoped so. Maybe. Someday. Smiling to himself, he notched up the pace a fraction, keeping his body upright, his arms close to his body, positioning his feet carefully to avoid a hamstring injury, and established a comfortable, steady pace.
He should probably have warmed up, done some stretches beforehand, he realised as he ran. He’d make sure to do so tomorrow. Maybe he should join the local gym, he mused, acknowledging two female joggers with a nod as they passed in the other direction.
Nice buttock muscles. He glanced over his shoulder.
No buttocks. Eyes forwards, Adam.
He’d have to make sure to cool down, walk for a while. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it properly: Draw up a reasonable running plan and work through it until he was fit. He felt okay so far, though. Felt pretty good, actually. When had he stopped running? When his world had stopped turning, he reminded himself, stilling a graphic flashback this time. She’d been so still, so cold, so alone.
‘So, where do you want dropping off, girls?’ Nathaniel asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror at Sienna.
‘As close to the High Street as you can get,’ Lauren supplied from the passenger seat, bagsied so she could finish applying her make-up through the mirror on the visor. ‘We’re clothes shopping.’
‘Ah.’ Nathaniel chuckled. ‘Serious shopping then?’
‘Deadly serious, as far as Lauren’s concerned.’ Sienna sighed, thinking of her fragile bank balance. ‘I’ll be the one gazing wistfully through the windows.’
‘She’s on the writer’s diet, starving for her art,’ Lauren elaborated, putt
ing the final touches to her lippy.
‘Bloody hell, I don’t believe it,’ Nathaniel gasped as he crossed the bridge over the river.
‘No, me neither.’ Lauren gave Sienna a despairing glance over her shoulder. ‘You should see what’s she’s writing.’
‘He’s up! He’s running!’ Nathaniel slowed the car. ‘Either I’m having a mental aberration or he is.’
‘Who?’ Lauren glanced idly through the windscreen.
‘Adam.’ Nathaniel nodded ahead to a jogger coming towards them. ‘He hasn’t done that since … In a long time.’
‘Adam?’ Sienna and Lauren exclaimed together.
‘One and the same,’ Nathaniel assured them, slowing the car to a crawl as he pulled out to allow Adam to pass on the inside.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Lauren echoed Nathaniel, now gawking through the windscreen.
Nor do I. Sienna peered between the two of them, her eyes travelling the length of Adam as he approached and her mouth all but drooling. Delicious. Muscle-ripplingly, heart-stoppingly, tummy-clenchingly gorgeous. Sienna breathed deeply, her muscles down below luxuriating in another mini-orgasm at the thought of what that body had done to hers.
‘Don’t strain anything, will you?’ Nathaniel shouted through Lauren’s hastily opened window, as Adam slowed.
Adam grinned mischievously, his eyes flitting to Sienna. ‘I’ll try not to,’ he said, waving behind him as he jogged on.
‘Not the bits that count anyway. Wouldn’t want the entire female race to die of disappointment,’ Lauren commented drolly, her head twizzling on her neck and her eyes gazing appreciatively after Adam, nevertheless. ‘Looks like he’ll be charging you more for it now he’s honing it,’ she said with a smirk, turning back.
‘Lauren!’ Sienna’s eyeballs almost flew out. ‘Shhhh.’
‘Oh. Oops.’ Lauren looked sheepish this time as she glanced at her. ‘Sorry, hon. I thought Nathaniel knew you and Adam were … Ouch!’
Lauren scowled as Sienna tugged on a lock of her hair.
Perfect. Sienna closed her eyes. Adam finally does something his friend approves of and now he’s no doubt back in the doghouse. ‘He doesn’t charge,’ she mumbled. ‘I told you, Lauren, it was a misunderstanding. The woman wasn’t paying him. She was …’ Sienna stopped, searching for a way to diplomatically say what she actually was.
‘Giving him money?’ Lauren supplied helpfully. Not.
‘No! Yes. Oh, for goodness sake, she probably owed him the money, Lauren. And I only paid him some money to get back at him. And since you seem determined to judge him all bad, for your information, Adam didn’t do the chasing. I asked him. Adam said a flat out no.’
‘Oh.’ Lauren clearly didn’t have a ready smart retort to that. ‘And?’
Sienna glanced at Nathaniel. ‘So I compromised him,’ she said, her cheeks flushing furiously. ‘I kissed him, and then one thing led to another and … well, you know.’
‘God, Sienna …’ Lauren sank back in her seat.
Sienna glanced at her knotted fingers wishing she could disappear through the seat. ‘It wasn’t his fault, Nate,’ she said in a small voice and glanced back up. ‘It was me who did the chasing, not Adam.’
Nathaniel met her eyes at last through the mirror. ‘Did you pay him?’ he asked.
Sienna shook her head, and then nodded. ‘To make a point, yes. I was upset. He seemed so distant after we, um …’ She hesitated, realising how immature it all sounded. ‘I wanted him to think I didn’t care, so I pushed an envelope through his door the morning after you allowed him to stay over.’ The morning he’d stormed off, his face like thunder and his body language furious, she recalled miserably.
Nathaniel drew in a long breath. There followed a pause, a very heavily pregnant pause. Would he be furious with Adam? Sienna chewed worriedly on her lip. Ban him from the marina altogether? She so hoped not, when they’d seen with their own eyes Adam trying to pull himself together. Surely that would count for something after all Nathaniel had told her he’d been through.
‘Bloody idiot, he hasn’t got a clue, has he?’ Nathaniel spoke, after an agonisingly long silence. ‘Be careful, Sienna,’ he warned her. ‘He needs fixing, but only he can do it.’
He was out of condition. The sweat was dripping from him in buckets as he came through the cottage door. Adam ran an arm over his forehead and under his chin. He was going to pay for his enthusiasm in the morning, no doubt about it. In which case, he’d just have to run through it, keep going, nice and steady until he was back in shape, he decided, walking to the kitchen to open the fridge.
‘Yes, I know,’ he raised a hand in acquiescence as he bypassed his misty companion. ‘Water. Shower. No beer.’
Filling a glass with something that was naturally thirst quenching and on tap in abundance, he glugged that instead and headed for the bathroom.
So what about his other … predilection, his inclination towards attached women? He pondered as he let the warm water soothe his aching muscles. See someone about it maybe? Did he need to, though? Despite all his denials, he knew deep down that he’d much rather have what he once thought he’d had, though the prospect of putting his emotions on the line terrified him. He’d been seeking short-term, short-lived satisfaction because he’d been too scared to even contemplate anything else until now, too cynical about the whole rose-tinted love thing. Moving on had been his survival technique, his way of avoiding commitment. He hadn’t needed Nathaniel to tell him that.
On that subject, what about his boat? Did he really need to get her under sail in a hurry? Did he actually still want to sail away? No, was the clear-cut answer. He wanted to see Lily-Grace. He’d made up his mind. Nicole was going to have to accept that he was determined to and trust him not to do anything that might upset her. He’d waited long enough. If she wasn’t going to call, he’d call her back and move that along.
He also wanted Sienna. A desperate need that almost made his gut ache. But what if she didn’t want him? Even if he did manage to clean up his act, what if ‘beautiful’ sex was just that, and she didn’t want more? He’d need to go then. He really didn’t think he could cope, seeing her out with other men, knowing what those other men might be doing with her.
Adam’s stomach tightened as he recalled the intoxicating smell of her, the taste of her. Her long legs wrapped around him, how she’d clenched him so mind-blowingly tightly. The way she’d called out his name. It was more than sex he was interested in, though. Much more. He loved the way she walked, the way she talked. The way she smiled at him. The way she blushed. The way she looked at him, like she cared, her intoxicating green eyes lighting up when she laughed. He loved her cupid, upturned lips, her red-and-gold-flecked hair, curling so carelessly down to her creamy firm breasts. He loved her body, every desirable inch of it.
He loved her. He wanted her. He wanted to be with her. Might it be possible? Might she love him, learn to love him? Only one way to find out and that was to sort himself out. But then, if she didn’t want anything to do with him? Adam pulled in a breath. He’d need his boat ready to go.
And if she did? He would stop chasing women, and getting no satisfaction apart from the physical sort. He’d stop. No question. If Sienna even hinted she cared enough to consider a future with him, he’d drop anchor and stay put. Meanwhile, he decided, towelling himself down, he’d increase the odd jobs, decline the bonuses, and think about looking for an actual job. There must be something he could do that didn’t mean being shut indoors nine-to-five. What though? There were no local firms he hadn’t already tried.
Okay, so he’d just have to try further afield. It was a semblance of a plan, at least. He pondered as he shaved – and tried to ignore the persistent ringing at the front door.
Coming downstairs for a coffee dressed in only his towel, he realised ignoring the doorbell had been a bad idea. If he’d answered, he might have avoided what looked like an imminent confrontation with Sherry. She’d obviously let herself in with
her key. Dammit. Noting the thunderous expression on her face, Adam almost about-faced.
‘What’s up?’ he asked her apprehensively instead.
‘I might ask you the same question,’ she snapped. ‘What are you playing at, Adam?’
‘Nothing.’ He eyed her quizzically. ‘Why?’
‘So you haven’t been fucking the trollop you’re in love with then?’
Adam felt his jaw tighten. ‘What?’ He glanced at her narrowly.
‘The trollop you were declaring undying love for last night.’ Sherry planted her hands on her hips. Her eyes were full of hostile accusation.
His anger escalating, Adam was sorely tempted to send a derogatory retort back, but … Cool it, he warned himself. He might be a lot of things, but arguing with women, he’d much rather not. ‘I was drunk,’ he said, walking past her to retrieve his watch from the coffee table. Deflection, he thought, might be best.
‘Right, so the barmaid won’t be affecting your performance?’ Sherry asked, tapping a toe impatiently.
Adam ignored her. ‘Sherry, you’re going to have to excuse me,’ he said tightly. ‘I have to—’
‘In which case you can make love to me now, can’t you?’ Sherry challenged him.
‘No,’ Adam said.
Sherry eyed him accusingly. ‘No?’
‘No, Sherry. I have to go.’ Trying hard to keep his temper in check, Adam turned for the stairs. ‘I’m due at the marina—’
‘Hah!’ she said triumphantly. ‘No doubt to show the trollop the interior of your boat. This is my cottage you’re staying in, Adam. Rent-free, may I remind you? So, if you’re about to renege on our—’
‘That’s enough!’ Adam turned furiously back.
Sherry was clearly shocked by his tone. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I said that’s enough, Sherry.’ Adam’s temper was now dangerously close to the surface. ‘I don’t much like you bad-mouthing Sienna. So don’t! Got it?’
‘I … Yes,’ Sherry stammered. ‘I …’
‘You need to go.’ Adam tugged in a breath and tempered his tone.
The Rest of My Life Page 11