But he couldn’t even think about starting a life with her until he manned up, stopped running, and went back to Minnesota to face the music.
Feeling someone’s gaze on him, he looked up to find Jenny staring at him, then at Karla. Shit. He hoped she didn’t suspect anything. Of course, Karla and her mother were close, so she might have told her mother about their botched relationship already. The last thing he wanted was for her parents to find out he and Karla had been intimate, especially now when he’d suddenly, horribly realized that he had unfinished business and he couldn’t really do anything to make it a permanent relationship yet. But if Jenny would have known about them already, she wouldn’t have greeted him the way she did last night, would she?
He’d come to Chicago hoping for a chance to assure her parents he could provide for their daughter and would love her in his way until his final breath. But if he really was going to go to Minnesota and come clean, he couldn’t make them that kind of promise anymore. Not until he could come to her with a clean conscious and no felony convictions.
He laid down his fork. Damn, he should have accepted Damián’s invitation to join his family in California this year. Which reminded him—he needed to check in with his son later tonight. They were a couple hours behind him, so they may not have started their celebration yet. Last time he’d checked in on them, before he’d left for Chicago, Damián said his niece was coping better than he’d expected, but his sister wasn’t dealing with reality very well and that he’d have to stay on.
Adam understood what she was going through. His own mother had often apologized to him as a kid for marrying a similar dickwad—his father.
“So, tell me, Adam,” Carl began, “how is retirement treating you? Did you pick up golf or any other vices?”
Adam grinned over at Carl, then his gaze went back to Jenny, who didn’t quite smile back. The two of them looked like they’ve been through hell, grief having ravaged their once-young faces. But it looked as though their marriage was solid. Having each other to weather the storm would make all the difference.
“No, sir. I haven’t gone the golfing, fishing, or hunting route.” He wasn’t sure why he’d avoided fishing and hunting. Some of the only pleasant memories he had of his childhood had been engaging in those activities, with his dad, no less.
“Karla says you run a nightclub now.”
He glanced over at Karla who looked as if she was biting the inside of her trembling lip to keep herself from smiling. Little minx. Now, how was he supposed to navigate these waters?
“Something like that, sir. A couple buddies and I who served together in Iraq started a private club a few years ago. Keeps me busy and out of trouble.” More or less.
Karla’s grandmother, sitting on his left, reached out to touch his hand. “I was in Aspen last winter and hope to get back there again. Do you ever get up that way, Adam?” Thank God for Grandma and her many travels.
“No, ma’am. I pretty much stick to Denver and environs.”
“I stayed at a wonderful resort there, modeled after a chalet in the Italian Alps. I met a wonderful former Marine there.”
“Just a Marine, ma’am. Once a Marine, always a Marine.” He hoped the rote correction didn’t sound disrespectful. He grinned.
“You know, he said the same thing.” She giggled. Hearing a seventy-something woman giggling sure sounded odd. Didn’t have the effect her granddaughter’s giggle had on him—thank God. “His daughter and her family run the place. Top-notch accommodations.”
Crap. What were the chances she’d stayed at Marc’s family resort and was talking about his Gramps? This was hitting just a little too close to home.
“He served in World War II. I was just a schoolgirl then, but I still remember all the sacrifices we made. A feast like this would have been hard to come by. So much was rationed.”
“Yes, ma’am. Those were tough times.” He admired the generation that had gone through that era in American history. Adam wasn’t quite sure what else to say, so he turned his attention to the mountain of food on the plate in front of him, then noticed Karla had hardly touched her turkey dinner. At the moment, her fork was pulverizing the broccoli casserole that he was pretty sure she’d made. If he didn’t know it would attract unwanted attention, he’d have picked up her fork and fed her himself. She was too fucking thin. Besides, she’d lost last night’s dinner when she’d been sick this morning.
During a particularly noisy discussion about who would the football game later, Adam leaned over to Karla and whispered so only she could hear. “If you don’t clean your plate, I’m going to haul you over to Lake Michigan and warm your backside in front of anyone who happens to walk or jog by.”
Karla looked up at him and he heard a tiny hitch in her breathing. Shit, did she want a spanking? If so, would she go all bratty on him and disobey just to get him to discipline her? Interesting. Maybe…
Then Karla speared a piece of turkey and brought it to her mouth, followed quickly by a bite of her broccoli casserole. As if on automatic, she took bites at regular intervals until she’d finished everything on her plate. So, what was she saying—that she didn’t want him to discipline her anymore?
No shit, jarhead.
What the fuck was it with his internal critic now using Joni’s voice?
More important, why did Karla’s latest rejection bother him so much? What if she went looking for a new Dom in one of the BDSM clubs in Chicago? The thought of her walking into one of those places dressed in one of her sexy outfits caused him to lose his appetite now. Of course, she’d left the sexiest of the outfits behind when she’d packed.
Karla leaned over to him and whispered low and directly into his ear, “Sir, if you don’t clean your plate, I am going to come to your room tonight and force you to eat me instead.”
Adam’s cock came to a full salute in about three seconds flat and he adjusted himself in the chair. Memories of going down on Karla’s sweet pussy nearly caused him to come undone. Shit. He’d like to see the day when a sub could force him to do anything he didn’t want to do.
Oh, yeah, like she’d have to force you.
Jesus Christ, they were in her parents’ house, at their Thanksgiving table. What was the matter with him? Besides, he had to straighten out some shit from his past before he could ever plan a future with Karla. He planned to leave for Denver tomorrow. But he still wanted to get a chance to talk things over with her.
He reached for his fork and knife and cut off a piece of the ham, still finding it hard to believe she’d remembered that throw-away comment in the taxi. Maybe when Karla said she’d waited her whole adult life for him, she wasn’t kidding. Still, she didn’t seem to have shown up in Denver looking for a romantic relationship. That just happened later. Didn’t it?
When had he first noticed Karla was an adult? That damned audition, before he knew it was Karla. But when had she first shown she was attracted to him? It had to have been in Marc’s playroom and that Shibari demonstration, where he’d tied her arms behind her using the Teppou technique.
Or was that just the first time she’d let him know she was attracted to him sexually? Sure, when she was sixteen, she’d declared her love on the porch of this very house. But the first time he’d felt she was speaking to him on a sexual level as an adult was when she sang Song to the Siren on the stage at the club. She’d been his siren ever since.
So, when had he fallen in love with her?
Yeah, there was no longer a doubt in his mind that he loved this sassy young woman seated next to him. She loved him back, too, even though she’d given up on him at the moment. So, what did he plan to do about it? He wasn’t getting any younger. He needed to propose.
But not until after he took care of business in Minnesota. He wouldn’t ask her if he couldn’t be around to take care of her for a reasonably long time.
He glanced at Jenny who now stared at Karla with concern on her face. Had she noticed that her daughter was losing weight and not e
ating much, too? At least she’d eaten today. But, hell, she’d eaten last night, too. Did Jenny know about this morning? If he wasn’t going to be taking Karla home with him, he needed to make sure Jenny and Carl knew to keep an eye on her until he could take over again.
He cast his gaze in Karla’s direction and saw the way she clamped her mouth tight and held her stomach. Aw, hell. Not again. Would she keep this meal down? Did she have the flu? He wanted to check her forehead, but didn’t want to attract attention. Maybe after dinner.
He felt a strong need to take care of her. Even if he failed at meeting her emotional needs, he knew he could meet her physical and financial ones. If there ever was anything with Karla, he’d need to be more up front with her than he had been with Joni. Memories of Joni's words on those tapes still haunted him. She’d sworn he’d been all she’d ever wanted in a husband, in a man. But he’d short-changed her in the emotional department, even though she hadn't indicated this to be the case in the tapes she'd recorded. While he didn’t want to repeat that mistake with Karla, he had to concede he just didn’t have a fucking clue how to change.
He wished this meal would come to an end so he could get Karla alone to talk with her. To speed things along on his end, he dug in and finished everything on his plate before he remembered Karla’s threat. Damn. Maybe he should fill his plate again so he could leave something and see if she’d follow through, because the thought of devouring Karla’s pussy made his mouth water than this meal did.
God, he had it bad.
* * *
After the dishes had been cleared and a game of Apples to Apples played—won by Adam who had an uncanny way of playing just the card that would play to the judge’s emotions—Karla felt so drained, she’d bowed out of taking a walk with him. He’d felt her forehead and declared in his annoying mama-bear mode that she didn’t have a fever. Well, at least she hadn’t before he’d touched her.
How she’d missed his touch.
The emotional roller coaster and the queasiness in her stomach lately had her body screaming to regroup. As she watched him walk out the front door, she climbed the stairs to her room to lie down. She’d barely stretched out and closed her eyes when she heard the “She’s a Maneater” ring tone on her phone.
Mistress Grant.
Her heart thudded against her chest. Did the Marine have some info? Or was it too late, even if she could figure out what was eating at Adam from his childhood? Karla accepted the call and placed the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Yes or no—are you alone?”
Karla sat up. “Yes.”
“Good. I’ve found something that I’m not sure we’ll want Adam to know about until it’s been checked out.”
Karla reached over to the nightstand to pick up her song-writing notebook and a pencil. “I’m ready.” For whatever it takes.
“It was nearly impossible to trace him before he joined the Marines, as if he just appeared out of nowhere. Then my source found out he’d changed his last name. Montague is his mother’s maiden name.”
Well, he really detested his father, so Karla could understand that.
“His mother’s alive. Remarried. Doing quite well, it seems. Adam’s father was killed in a home invasion and she moved to Chicago soon after.”
“Was Adam hurt in the home invasion?”
“From what I can tell in newspaper reports, he wasn’t there. Only his parents. Maybe he’d already run away by then. Anyway, his mother remarried a few years later and started a new family. Adam has a half-brother and a half-sister.”
“Oh, my God. Are they still here in Chicago?” Adam would so much want to have a family. He’d been putting together his own replacement family for years at the club—and she knew his surrogate family always would be as close as he’d let anyone. But for him to have blood relatives would be so good for him, provided they loved him unconditionally.
“His mother’s there. The brother has a business in Albuquerque and his sister is in graduate school at USC in LA.”
“I need to call his mother before I tell him about her. Even better, meet her face to face. I don’t want her to hurt him.” Again.
“Yeah, I’d feel better if you checked her out. He doesn’t need any bat-shit crazy woman messing with his head.”
Karla smiled. Grant cared about Adam as much as she did. Well, maybe not that much, but she did care, as a friend. Good thing, because Karla wouldn’t want to mess up Grant’s pretty face in a knock-down, drag-out for Adam’s affections. Yeah, Karla realized with a grin, she wasn’t quite ready to give up on her man.
Grant gave her the phone number and address. My God. She was so close; only ten minutes away, up on Lake Shore Drive. Apparently, the woman had done all right for herself—financially, at least—if she lived in that Gold Coast neighborhood.
After thanking Grant and hanging up, Karla just stared at the phone a moment. It was Thanksgiving night, but Adam would be leaving Chicago soon. There wasn’t much time. She punched in the phone number and waited, not sure what she was going to say. “Oh, hi. I’m Karla and in love with your son and just want to know what the fuck you did to him when he was growing up to make him so afraid to love me back.”
Okay. Maybe that was too much information for a phone call. She might need to save some of that for the face-to-face. Her heart pounded as she waited for someone to answer.
When a woman answered the phone, Karla gripped the phone. “Mrs. Gallagher?”
“Who’s calling please?”
Cold. Aloof. Careful.
“Karla Paxton. You don’t know me, but we have a mutual acquaintance that I need to talk with you about.”
“And who might that be?”
“Your son—Adam.”
The audible gasp told Karla she’d definitely hit a nerve. Good. She’d like to hit a few more.
“How is he?” The pain-filled whisper threw Karla for a loop.
“Fine. Well, mostly fine. But I need to know some things about his past. I need to meet you somewhere to talk about Adam so I can…well, just because I need to know. But there isn’t much time. Can we meet tonight? I’m in Lincoln Park.”
“I can’t go out. Why don’t you come to my apartment?”
She certainly was more trusting than her son. After arranging a time to meet, Karla ended the call and swung her legs over the side of the bed, then stood in one motion. The room swayed and she plopped back onto the mattress until the dizzy spell had passed. The queasiness she’d been feeling for the past few mornings was now becoming an all-day occurrence. Maybe she was getting the flu, but just didn’t have the fever or chills yet.
Well, she didn’t have time to give in to sickness. She had a mission to accomplish tonight. This might be her last hope to help Adam. Standing more slowly this time, she picked up the notebook with the address and headed downstairs.
Adam wasn’t back yet. Good. She didn’t want to have to lie to him. After explaining to her mom that she needed to run an errand, she grabbed the keys to the car and headed out the front door.
She met Adam on his way up the steps. Fucking damn. He gave her a smoldering look that turned her knees to jelly. “Karla, we need to talk.”
Oh, great. Now he wants to talk. Okay, he’d wanted her to walk with him earlier, so maybe he’d wanted to talk then. “I totally agree, Adam, but not now. I need to run…to the store. I’ll be back soon.”
“I’ll ride along.”
“No!” His stunned expression forced her to slow down. “I lied. I don’t have to go to the store. I just need to take a drive. Alone. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
“How the hell far are you driving? It’s dark.”
“I’ve driven in the dark before, Adam.”
“Yeah, and you had an accident recently. I don’t want you driving around alone.”
“Adam, there aren’t any deer in Chicago. I’ll be fine.” Hoping to ditch him, she started down the steps toward the sidewalk, only to realize he was
following her. Double fucking damn. How was she going to get rid of him? She needed to be at Mrs. Gallagher’s in ten minutes. No way did she want to piss the woman off and lose the opportunity. But she wasn’t about to let Adam tag along either. What if the woman were bat-shit crazy, like Grant said? Karla wouldn’t expose Adam to any more emotional torture from the woman.
Adam grabbed her elbow and halted her. “What’s going on, Karla?”
She couldn’t meet his gaze, but he gripped her chin, his fingers biting her jaw, and forced her to look at him. How could she lie to him when looking into his eyes?
Please, Adam. Don’t mess this up. I’m just trying to help you.
“I’m meeting someone. And I’m late.”
Adam let go of her as if burned, but quickly masked the hurt expression. Good God, Adam. Do you think I’m off to meet a lover? Don’t you trust me even a little bit?
“I see.”
No, you don’t. But she needed to go, and if this is what it took to get him to let her go alone, then she’d let him stew on it a while.
“I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.”
Now why had she added that snarky comment? Well, if he didn’t trust her anyway, it wouldn’t matter what she said. Karla turned and went to the family’s sedan and got in. Her eyes blurred with tears. Why was she crying when what she really felt was blood-boiling anger at that impossible man she’d had the misfortune of falling in love with?
Dashing the tears from her eyes, she started the ignition and drove away. A glance in the rear-view mirror told her Adam was gone already. Figured.
Trust me, Adam. For once, just fucking trust someone to love you.
Chapter Twenty-two
Why wouldn’t she just tell him who the fuck she was meeting? Adam pulled the keys out of his pocket, got into his vehicle, and followed her. He hoped he hadn’t already lost her, but she could get into a lot of trouble in a city this big.
Nobody's Hero Page 33