One Way or Another: A Friends to Lovers Contemporary Romance (The Sisters Quartet Book 1)

by Mary J. Williams

  Beside him, Calder shook her head.

  "So much for positive thinking. I don't see her date. At least we know her plan. Show up alone, shit-faced, so you feel obligated to drive her home."

  Tamara looked ready to blow a gasket—Adam didn't blame her. He felt the same. Neither she nor the baby needed any added stress. Melvin—poor Melvin—didn't deserve the aggravation.

  Aurora had to go. But not the way she envisioned.

  "Call a cab."

  Calder nodded.

  "You get her out of here, I'll have a ride outside in five minutes."

  Adam didn't question Calder's word. If she said five minutes, he could bank on five—or less.

  "Thank goodness," Tamara breathed when she caught sight of Adam. "Melvin is at his wit's end."

  "I'll take care of her. And, I'm sorry."

  Tamara brushed off Adam's apology.

  "Don't be ridiculous. I have nobody to blame but myself. Now, go. Please."

  Aurora put up a token resistance. A little pushing. A lot of yelling. Her act fell on deaf ears. Adam quickly lost what little patience he had left.

  "Move, Aurora. Or I swear, I'll forget you're a woman and kick your ass out the door."

  Adam's empty threat didn't concern Aurora. She knew he'd never raise a hand to her. Certain she'd accomplished her goal, she had the nerve to don a Cheshire cat grin as he escorted her from the apartment.

  "Guess I messed up. Again."

  Not the least bit contrite, Aurora leaned heavily against Adam. When he didn't answer, she tugged on his shirt.

  "You're angry. Shouldn't be. Saved you. Boring dinner. Boring friends. Boring rich girl."

  Breath like a sour distillery, Aurora seemed intent on blowing as much foul air into Adam's face as humanly possible. He held his breath and thanked the elevator gods for a mercifully quick trip.

  Adam considered depositing Aurora on the lobby sofa while they waited for her ride. Tempting, but he quickly dismissed the idea. She was too unpredictable. He couldn't count on her to behave. Rather than take a chance she might say or do something offensive if they ran across someone who lived there, he walked—half-dragged—her from the building.

  "Bet ya aren't so rough with your Park Avenue bitch. Think her farts smell like flowers just cause she has money. Well, they don't. Whatever comes out of her tight ass stinks—just like us peasants."

  Adam tuned out Aurora's ramblings and leaned her against a lamppost.

  "Stay," he commanded.

  In response, she sank like a stone. Adam shrugged. Close enough. The ground was dry and relatively clean—and he wasn't in a chivalrous mood. So, he left her where she landed.

  "I'm more fun, damn it! And prettier. She's a fucking stick figure." Aurora grabbed her breasts. "One time a man paid me fifty bucks for just a look. Bet Calder would starve if she had to depend on her skinny-ass body for survival."

  Four minutes and counting. Adam looked down the street. Headlights. Please stop here. His prayer was answered.

  "You Adam Stone?" Adam nodded. He wanted to kiss the man. "I'm Phil Potts. Ms. Benedict said you had a lady a little worse for wear and in need of a ride." Phil took one look at Aurora and let out a slow whistle. "More like down for the count."

  "You'll make sure she gets into her apartment before you leave?"

  "All part of the service."

  "You aren't coming with me? No!" Aurora locked her arms around the metal post.

  Adam took more care than he felt Aurora deserved. A couple of firm, but relatively gentle tugs and he had her off the ground. Another pull, she was free of the lamppost. Phil held open the car door while Adam deposited one hundred and five pounds of deadweight onto the seat.

  Before he could get away, Aurora launched herself into his arms.

  "Don't go back to her." The crocodile tears had turned genuine. "I love you. I know you feel the same."

  The ice in Adam's veins melted enough to carry a twinge of regret to his heart. He'd never loved Aurora. Not the way she meant. However, they'd shared some good times. In the early days after he'd left the Navy, she was a friend when he needed one. A lover when the mood was right.

  The good memories in his thoughts, Adam brushed the tears from Aurora's face.

  "You deserve someone who puts you first. A man who loves you with all his heart."

  "You!" Aurora sobbed.

  "No. I never was. Never will be. Your happiness is out there, Aurora. But not with me."

  Adam closed the door. Try as she might, Aurora couldn't follow. Bless him, Phil had locked her in. She screamed. Pounded on the window. To no avail.

  "Scary. And kinda sad."

  "Exactly." Adam reached for his wallet. "She lives on Long Island."

  Phil held up his hands.

  "All taken care of. Just give me the address."

  Adam waited until the car was out of sight before he slowly walked away. Into the building. The elevator. Away from one chapter of his life.

  Toward, fingers crossed, the future.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  ~~~~

  AURORA'S LITTLE STUNT didn't put a damper on the evening. If anything, Calder felt a deeper appreciation for the food, the company, and the people around her.

  Melvin and Tamara welcomed her with open arms. The pretty petite brunette and her thoroughly smitten husband were a pleasure to behold. The love they expressed in every look, every touch, gave her hope. For herself, and the rest of the world. Their affection for Adam made Calder like them even more.

  As the night continued, she felt she could count them as her friends. New. But with potential for something deeper.

  Melvin and Adam talked sports while they did the dishes. In the living room, Tamara put her feet up with a happy sigh and a cup of herbal tea.

  "We need to go shopping one day soon."

  The age-old female bonding ritual. Calder didn't go often. However, when on the hunt, a store became a battlefield. She never invited someone along unless she was certain they could keep up. Until Tamara was back to fighting weight, Calder would make an exception and temper her competitive spirit.

  "I don't know." Tamara patted her barely-there baby bump. "Soon, I won't fit into anything smaller than a hefty bag with arm holes. Maybe a tent—not exactly Madison Avenue haute couture."

  "My sister designed a maternity line a few years back. I didn't see a single tent come down the catwalk."

  "Really?" Tamara's dark eyes grew dreamy. "Anything by Andi Benedict is bound to be gorgeous. But…"

  Andi's clothing was out of most people's price range. Calder would have offered to buy Tamara anything she wanted. A gift. But she didn't want to start their relationship by waving her wealth under the new friend's nose. She had to find a compromise Tamara could live with.

  "No harm in looking. Right?"

  "I suppose." Obviously tempted, Tamara still hesitated.

  "You'll need something spectacular for the Spring Romance Gala. If we don't find the perfect dress at Andi's boutique, we'll keep looking. However, my bet is on my sister."

  "Spring Romance Gala? The big charity event? With all the celebrities and society people?"

  Tamara's voice rose an octave with each sentence.

  "The one and only."

  "What you do with Erica's Angels is amazing. But Melvin and I aren't going."

  "Yes, you are. Every year, my family buys a table. Huge. Too big. We always end up inviting people we don't really like just to fill the seats. For once, I'd like to sit next to someone I want to talk to."

  "I don't know…"

  "Save yourself the time and aggravation, Tamara. Say yes," Adam said as he and Melvin joined them. Grinning, he sat next to Calder, sliding an arm around her shoulders. "The woman is relentless when she wants something. I know. As hard as I tried to guard my virtue, Calder wouldn't stop until I gave her what she wanted."

  "Poor, Adam." Calder let out a mournful sigh. "A
faulty memory and delusional. Sad. Very sad."

  Tamara and Melvin laughed. Adam grinned. But for Calder's ears only, he whispered, "I remember the important things. Where you like me to touch and kiss you comes to mind."

  Calder gave him a sideways glance. The glint of a promise in his deep-blue eyes made her heartrate soar. He planned to prove his memory was perfect. And she couldn't wait.

  ~~~~

  "YOUR FRIENDS ARE—"

  "Are now your friends as well," Adam finished for her.

  Calder smiled.

  "Yes. Tamara and Melvin are a gift. Thank you." She patted the sofa. When Adam was by her side, she curled her body into his, her arms wrapped around his waist. "What I meant to say is, they are wonderful. Easy to be around. Their home is filled with warmth and happiness. Love. Thank you for sharing."

  "You're welcome."

  Frowning, Calder snuggled closer. You're welcome was a perfectly acceptable response—from someone else. Adam was the least reticent man she'd ever known. He was verbal. Expressive. He had an extensive vocabulary and wasn't afraid to use his words to state on opinion. Or simply talk. Lord, she loved to listen to him talk.

  After he dealt with Aurora, Adam had been understandably tense. A beer, a shoulder massage—gladly offered by Calder—and he finally relaxed. The evening was a complete success. At least, she thought so. She'd even talked Tamara into a shopping trip.

  "Did I push Tamara too hard?" Adam made a joke at the time. Perhaps he felt she'd crossed a line. "Just a girl's day out. Andi will give her the V.I.P. treatment. A mini-fashion show. Then we'll stop for lunch. I'll make sure she doesn't buy something she can't afford."

  "What?" Obviously distracted, Adam shook his head. "She'll have a ball. By the way, if anything catches her eye, ask Andi to give her a huge discount. I'll pay the balance."

  Great minds. Calder already planned for Tamara to walk away with several outfits. Items which just happened to be marked down. Way, way down.

  "If we're copacetic on the fashion front, what's wrong? You've been unusually quiet ever since we left Melvin and Tamara's."

  "Just gathering my thoughts."

  "Talk to me." Calder touched Adam's face. Kissed his jaw. Met his gaze. "You can, you know. About anything."

  "I need you to listen. Need you to hear something I've never told another living soul. Never could. Never wanted to. Until you."

  Calder rested her head against Adam's shoulder. She sensed he'd have an easier time if she simply held him close. And did as he asked—listened. She felt the rise and fall of his chest as he took a deep breath.

  "The run-in with Ingo Hunter? The reason for my less-than-composed reaction?"

  "You had to ask someone before you explained."

  "My mother." Adam cleared his throat. "I knew she'd say yes. Especially when I told her about you. She can't wait to meet you, by the way."

  "Anytime."

  "Soon. She's a strong, loving, compassionate woman. Better than I deserve. After what she went through, I… I'm grateful. So damn grateful."

  Adam's grip tightened on Calder's arm.

  "When I was in the Navy. Thousands of miles away. Where I couldn't help her—or protect her. Three men raped my mother."

  Calder gasped. She thought she was prepared for anything. She was wrong.

  "Until recently, the neighborhood where Mom lives, where I grew up, was pretty rough. Damn rough. People didn't go out after dark. Anybody who did was either a fool or a thug. Graffiti lined every wall—every fence. Not the pretty, artsy kind. Black paint. Gang tags. Foul language. Stuff you try to hide from a kid, but can't because the shit is everywhere."

  Adam's head fell back. His eyes held a faraway look.

  "Mom was no fool. She always kept her doors locked. Shopped during the day. She was supposed to be safe during the fucking day."

  The tension in Adam's body, the pain in his voice, worried Calder.

  "You don't have to tell me the rest."

  "Yes. I do. Unless you me to stop."

  "You can tell me anything. Remember? Will talking to me help?"

  Adam nodded.

  "Then finish. I'm here." She held his hand to her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere."

  Again, Adam breathed deeply.

  "Mom was a manicurist. Still is. She likes the human interaction." A fleeting smile passed across Adam's lips. Then, his expression turned grim. "Once a week, she would use her lunch break to shop for groceries. The corner store is halfway between home and work. As always, she picked up what she needed. She took the same route home. Down the same street. No shortcuts through dark alleys. Like I said, Mom is no fool."

  Adam ran a hand over his face.

  "The bastards grabbed her a block away from her house. They put a bag over her face. Dragged her into an abandoned building. She never told me the details. I never asked. But I have a friend on the police force. He let me read the report."

  Why? Calder wanted to scream. Why put yourself through the pain? The unimaginable horror? Sometimes the truth didn't set you free but weighed on the soul forever.

  "Six hours. What they did to her." Adam's blue eyes darkened, filled with suppressed fury. "My C.O. gave me the news. Took three fucking days to get home. Mom was in the hospital. Her face…" Adam's voice broke. "So many cuts and bruises. The swelling made her almost unrecognizable. The medication they pumped into her kept her mostly unconscious for the first week. Thank God. Otherwise, I don't know how she would have survived the pain—physical and mental."

  "You sat with her?"

  Adam nodded. His anger had turned to ice. The only visible sign of his distress were his clenched fists.

  "All I wanted to do was find the scum who hurt her. I wanted to rip them apart. Slowly. Let them suffer before I did the world a favor and put an end to their sorry lives."

  "How would your mother have coped with you in prison?"

  "Didn't matter. They were never caught. Not by the police, or me. As far as I know, the three of them never suffered a day in their lives."

  "I think they have. Or will."

  "In the afterlife?" Adam scoffed. "Mom believes only God has the right to judge our sins. I say, what's wrong with some holy justice right here on earth?"

  Calder rested her hand on Adam's chest, directly over his heart. The beat was strong. As strong as the woman who raised him.

  "I don't know what happens after we die. Hopefully, the men who hurt your mother have the words send straight to hell and burn stamped on what little soul they possess. But the here and now? I have to believe those men have paid some kind of price. They could be in prison."

  "Or dead."

  Adam's fixation on murder wasn't funny. Yet, Calder almost laughed. By nature, he wasn't a violent man. His instincts were to protect at all costs. However, given the right incentive, the man could be downright bloodthirsty.

  Given the circumstances, Calder didn't blame him.

  "Tell you what. You picture them dead. Me? I'll imagine them in three separate snake-filled holes—because they deserve to suffer alone—their bodies covered in large, seeping, festering wounds."

  "I changed my mind. I want to trade your imagination for mine."

  "Happy to share."

  Several minutes passed—Calder wasn't in the mood to count. She held Adam as the tension slowly drained from his body. Slowly—thankfully—the icy cool of his skin returned to a normal, healthy warm.

  A little later, Adam stood, Calder in his arms. He didn't speak as he carried her to his bedroom, undressed her, then himself, and settled them under the covers. His front nestled to her back. Comfort would later give way to passion. For now, they were content to simply be.

  Adam nuzzled Calder's neck. And chuckled. Such a lovely sound.

  "I had no idea you possessed such a bloody, vicious streak."

  Calder smiled when she heard the admiration in Adam's voice.

  "When necessary. Only when nec
essary."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ~~~~

  ADAM PACED ACROSS the marble floor. Calder never made him wait. The one night he needed everything to run like clockwork, the night his two favorite people in the entire world would meet for the first time, she had a business emergency.

  They arrived outside the mansion at the same time. Once inside, Calder told him to wait, gave him a quick kiss, and rushed up the stairs. Ten minutes, she promised.

  His mother would understand if they were late. His stomach might not.

  Butterflies had invaded his gut—a huge mass of them, fluttering like crazy.

  As he checked his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes, Adam debated his options. Wait. Or go to Calder's room and coax her to hurry.

  "Tell me why I should trust you with my sister?"

  Fixated on the empty stairs, Adam jumped. He turned to find Bryce directly behind him. He eyed her suspiciously, certain she hadn't been there a second ago.

  "Where did you come from?"

  "You don't know?" Bryce rolled her eyes. "An egg. Some sperm. Fertilization. Basic biology, Adam."

  Adam smiled to himself. Even snarky, a Benedict sister could charm honey from a bee.

  "In yours and Calder's case, two eggs."

  "Touché." Bryce smiled. "I kind of like you. But, are you good enough for my sister? The jury's still out."

  "Isn't the decision up to Calder?"

  Bryce crossed her arms. Suddenly, Adam saw the resemblance. The set of her chin. The unwavering gaze that seemed to say, you must be kidding. She and Calder weren't identical, but they were twins. Used to getting what they wanted, and heaven help the man who tried to stand in the way.

  "Scary, isn't she?"

  Adam swallowed an unmanly yelp. Like Bryce, Andi Benedict came up on him unnoticed. Fast and silent. A handy skill if she were a ninja. In a Manhattan mansion? Kind of annoying.

  "Her books scare the hell out of me."

  "Okay. I definitely like you." Bryce nodded. "However, flattery will take you only so far. Calder deserves the best. Are you?"