by Jody Holford
Rooting around in the fridge, he grabbed some cheese, sandwich meat, lettuce, and mustard. “Want one?” he asked over his shoulder because he wasn’t ready to look at her again.
“No thanks. How was your date?”
He grabbed the loaf of bread from the drawer in the island and met her gaze briefly. Long enough to see her eyes were wide-awake now. Kind of like his body. Stop it. Make your sandwich and go to bed. Alone. As usual. Which was exactly what he wanted.
“Fine.” He’d ended up saying he had to work early, which wasn’t a lie. It also wasn’t the reason for him not sticking around.
“Fine. Wow. That good, huh?”
She snagged a piece of cheese he’d just sliced and popped it into her mouth. He almost—almost—got stuck staring at her lips again but stopped himself and focused on his task. Thankfully, he believed in discipline or he wouldn’t be able to school his reactions so well. Yeah, you’re being real smooth.
“There won’t be a second. She snapped two pictures of us. We hadn’t talked for ten full minutes and now she has my picture. Said she had followers on Snapchat. It was weird. And she was late.”
“Hmm. Minus thirty then. She took your picture?”
He looked up. “Yes. Very strange. Is that what people do on dates these days?”
Megan snorted out a laugh, and the sound made him smile. “You say that like I’d know. The closest thing I’ve had to a date was breakfast with Declan and Charlie the other morning.”
Adam put the knife down with a clang. “Speaking of that, how’d that come about?”
When Dec had answered her phone, every possessive cell he didn’t know existed in his body had stood up, ready to fight. The feeling had shocked him nearly speechless. He didn’t like it. Even less so now that he was thinking of it again. Why did it bother him so much? Declan was the next best thing to a brother. He was Charlie’s godfather and had been there for Adam for every good and bad thing in his life.
Taking another piece of cheese before he could put it on his bread, Megan grinned. “We just ran into each other at the comic book store. He thought he was pretty funny. He wanted to mess with you.”
“Idiot.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Or he just wanted you to loosen up.”
“I’m plenty loose,” Adam said, though at the moment, his clothing felt rather restrictive. Could you just focus? He squirted mustard onto the cheese.
Megan pointed at him. “Why do you put it there and not the bread?”
“Less soggy this way,” he replied, closing the lid. He put a few slices of ham on and closed the sandwich.
She nodded as if this made perfect sense, which, of course, it did. While he put the sandwich fixings away, she slid off the stool and grabbed a plate from the cupboard and put it on the counter for him.
“Thanks.” He cut it in half, set his half on the plate, and then held out the other half to her.
She bit her lip. Fuck. Stop looking at her lips. Everyone has them. Hers are nothing special. But they sure as hell pulled his attention. Made him wonder what they’d feel like under his or running over his—
“You sure?”
“I’d rather give you half than have you take it out of my hands,” he said.
She laughed and grabbed herself a plate. He pulled two waters from the fridge and passed her one.
“Living room?” he asked.
“Sure.”
They sat beside each other on the couch, and Adam realized it was oddly comfortable, in an electrically charged, heart-stuck-in-his-throat sort of way.
Megan tucked her feet under her and took a bite of the sandwich she’d claimed not to want. Her toenails were bright pink. They were feminine and flirty. And it felt intimate to know.
“So we’ll add no selfie taking to the list?”
He nodded, chewing. She scrolled through her phone, her eyes scanning whatever she was reading. She wouldn’t like it if he was on his phone during the conversation, but he let it go because it gave him the chance to look at her. Her honey-colored skin matched her auburn hair. It hung loose and messy around her shoulders. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an unattractive-messy. More sexy-slumberous.
“Uh-oh,” she said, frowning.
“What?”
She showed him her phone, and he nearly choked on his sandwich.
“What the hell?”
He set the plate down and took the phone from her. Apparently, Cara had updated her social media status to “hopeful” and had included the picture she’d taken. The caption underneath read, “Went out with this guy tonight. Fingers crossed for a second date.”
Megan’s lips were curved inward, and her face was scrunched. Adam scrolled down on Cara’s page. He wasn’t on social media because who the hell had the time? And even if he did, there was no need. If he wanted to talk to someone, he called them. If he wanted to see them, he did. He didn’t need to update his status or know what anyone had for breakfast to go about his day.
“I’m sorry,” Megan whispered.
“You can add check social media to the list of ways to screen candidates,” he said. He wasn’t shy, but he didn’t particularly need his life splashed across a computer screen. If he’d wanted that life, he would have tried harder to convince Reece not to leave.
“I should have thought of that,” she said.
It was then he noticed the way her shoulders were hunched. He passed her back the phone. Their fingers brushed as she accepted it, and the look in her eyes mirrored the pull he’d felt earlier.
“It’s not your fault.”
He’d been a prick the last couple of days. Between worrying about her leaving and Charlie and his idea to build the perfect future, the stress had boiled over. Directly into Megan’s lap.
“I’ll double check all of the suitable profiles with social media and make sure they’re not wackos.”
Adam gave a gruff laugh. “Wackos?”
A hint of a smile touched her lips but not her eyes. “Just be grateful you’re not seeing all of the crazies lining up for you. I’m trying to protect you, but that one slipped through. It won’t happen again.”
“I feel very safe now. Thanks.”
She laughed then covered a yawn. “I should go. Thanks for the sandwich.”
Restlessness zipped through his veins. He didn’t want to be alone, which was new for him. Normally, he kept himself busy enough he wouldn’t notice. But right now, he didn’t want her to leave. Which was different than just not wanting to be alone. Pressure crammed his chest like an over-packed suitcase when he realized he wanted her company. The reasons for her to leave were mounting. This wasn’t attraction. Just edginess. He wasn’t attracted to her—she was the girl in the fairy tales, the one who kept her nose in a book and knew with certainty that her Prince Charming would come.
Adam was no Prince Charming. He was a realist and wasn’t looking for happily ever after. I’d be happy with content until death do us part.
She stood up, bringing him back to the moment.
Adam rose as well, much less gracefully than she did. He nearly fell into her in his haste to stop her from leaving. Their bodies were too close, and he heard the snag in her breath.
“Do you want to watch a movie or something?”
She searched his face, and he waited, his breath caught in his lungs, painfully. After what felt like ten minutes but was probably only thirty seconds, she nodded slowly and sank back down to the cushions. He moved the plates onto the coffee table and sat beside her. Too close. He told himself to move over into his own space. Instead, he leaned forward and picked up the remote.
When he turned to ask her what she felt like watching, her eyes were already on him.
“You okay?” Gaze hooked on hers, his voice came out lower than he intended.
“Sure. You?”
He nodded slowly, unable to tear his eyes away.
“Adam?” She looked at his lips.
“Hmm?”
Silence and energy hu
mmed between them, a live wire shooting off sparks, rooting them to their spots. Even the slightest movement could be dangerous. He did not act spontaneously. There was no room in his life for spur-of-the-moment desires. There was no room in his life—in his heart—for her. Megan’s gaze came back to his, and the space between them disappeared by achingly small degrees.
Megan’s breath fanned his lips, and his eyes drifted shut. Rational thought slipped away even as his fingers threaded with hers on the cushion between them. The first touch was soft and slow, their lips meeting and sweeping over each other. Her fingers tightened around his, and she pressed closer, opened her mouth a little more, and Adam was lost. His other hand found its own way into her hair. All that luxurious, soft hair that he could easily imagine trailing over his body.
Tilting his head, he kept his eyes closed, losing himself in something he thought he was no longer capable of: sensation. An overload of feelings pummeled him, making each breath a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. Her tongue grazed his, and her hand stroked his chest before settling over his heart. It beat so hard and fast, he was certain she could feel it through his shirt. He needed to know hers was every bit as out of control as his own.
Out of control. Something he never let himself be. Yet he didn’t pull away.
He couldn’t.
Chapter Nine
Megan grew dizzy with want. Adam’s lips were every delicious dessert she’d ever craved, and all she could think was: more. His fingers tightened in her hair, and heat rushed through every part of her body. Her hand moved over his chest, stopping above his heart—the steady thump of his heartbeat against her palm made her want to crawl on top of him and devour him. In the back of her mind, she wondered where this came from, but at the forefront was only desire. Heart-pounding, stomach-twirling, skin-on-fire lust.
This was what she’d read about in books and never truly believed. There was actual ringing in her ears, and she began to wonder if wanting someone so badly could cause a stroke. As Adam shifted and pulled back, she realized it was not her lust sounding in her ears, but his phone.
Which he was about to answer.
Without meeting her eyes, he untangled his hand from her hair and answered his phone.
“Klein,” he said.
Megan felt satisfaction at the slightly ragged sound of his voice. Normally, she’d be annoyed at the interruption, but right now, she was thankful, since it gave her a moment to breathe. What had just happened? She’d completely made out with her uptight, workaholic boss whose list of criteria she did not meet. And it had been the best kiss of her life. The kind that changed a person’s opinion of kissing, making it transcend from a pleasant pastime to a consuming need.
Adam got up from the couch, and Megan wondered what to do with her hands, her eyes, and her urge to get up and yank the phone from his hand.
“It’s a little late to be calling. Fine. Two weeks is long enough, Reece.”
A wall slammed up around Megan’s heart. Hard and fast. Reece. The only woman Adam had loved. The one who’d ensured he would never open his heart again. Megan sat upright. What was she doing? She knew better than this. For God’s sakes, she was trying to find him a checklist wife. Standing abruptly, she picked up her phone and started to make her way around the other side of the couch. He covered the phone with his hand.
“Megan. We need to talk,” he said, his eyes a mix of residual lust and harsh reality. What had nearly blown her mind was already a mistake to him. Because this isn’t a fairy tale and he isn’t your happily ever after. How could she have been so stupid?
She shook her head, backing away. “Later. Not right now.”
Sadness etched into the lines of his face. Her heart slipped several notches as she continued to walk backward out of the living room. Pretend it never happened.
“Yes, I’m still here,” Adam snapped into the phone.
Megan turned and hurried through the house, passing the hallway that led to the bedrooms, unlocked the front door, and let herself out of the main house. The air was cool, and she realized immediately she hadn’t grabbed her shoes. The pavement was rough on her feet, but it was only a short distance to the carriage house over the garage. She took the steps two at a time and rushed into her apartment. Slamming the door behind herself, she sank back against it and dropped to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. She couldn’t. Resting her forehead on her knees, she gripped her phone tight in her hand. It was just a moment. One she’d probably never forget, but just a moment all the same. Life was full of them. Some knocked you over and stole your breath, while others didn’t even stick around as memories. She knew, for sure, which kind of moment the kiss had been.
She lifted her head. “Get over it.”
Still, she gave herself another minute, hunched on the floor, before standing up. Think like Adam. We kissed. It happened. There was chemistry. Really-hot-body-singeing-clothes-melting chemistry. But he wanted a wife who didn’t want love. There were a lot of things Megan could handle, but that wasn’t one of them.
Staring at her phone, she wondered, Stella or Parker? Stella thought Adam was a stick-up-his-ass jerk, but unlike her brother, who thought the same, she’d give her the go-ahead for one night of hot sex with a man she almost had out of her life. The thought saddened her more than she expected. Not just because of Charlie, either.
She’d started to see Adam differently. She’d always known how good he was with Charlie, but it was new to see the way his shoulders tensed when the woman who’d wrecked his heart called. Megan had wanted badly to smooth that tension with her fingers and her lips. Feeling this way left only one choice. She dialed the number, holding her breath while it rang.
“You okay, sweet pea?” Garrett’s voice was a lazy drawl, and she checked the time on her stove clock. Shit. She hadn’t thought to look.
“I am. I’m sorry it’s late. You busy?”
“We work nights. This isn’t late. Your brother’s at the restaurant. I’m bingeing The Walking Dead.”
Megan shuddered. She walked toward her room to grab a sweater. “That’ll give you nightmares.”
“I’ve got Parks to comfort me.”
Her heart pinched. That’s what she wanted. It was out there, and she wouldn’t settle for less. She deserved all of it: the romance and lust, tangled together until time apart was something that made her ache. Megan knew she deserved the slow, heady slide into love and the knowledge that a man loved her so much it tied him up inside.
“What’s up?”
“I need advice.”
“Over the phone or in person?”
God, she loved him. If her brother and Garrett ever split, she might not survive. “Either, but I’d prefer in person.”
“On my way.”
“Just like that?” Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away.
“Always.”
While she waited for him, she threw on a pair of loose-fit jogging pants, a sweater, and fluffy socks. A serious make-out session followed by a call from the ex-wife apparently left her chilled to the bone.
Her phone buzzed, and she saw it was Adam calling. She had two months of working for him still. She could not avoid the call. But she really wanted to, just until she felt like she could talk to him and breathe at the same time.
“Adam,” she answered.
“Megan. Come back so we can talk. Please.”
Pulling the milk out of the fridge, she set it on the counter and grabbed a glass. “Talk? Or pick up where we left off?”
His hesitation was answer enough. It sliced through her heart. “Talk.”
“I don’t want to. Not yet,” she whispered.
“I would never hurt you.” The sincerity in his tone was almost as sweet as his touch.
“I know. We’re not a match. Not a good one anyway. It was…just a moment. Can we move forward?”
“Can you?”
She set the glass down with a bang. Arro
gant ass. She wasn’t the only one who’d felt something.
“Since I’m not a smitten twelve year old, I think I probably can. You’re not the first man to kiss me, Adam.”
He made a noise through the phone. “I wasn’t suggesting I was. But surely not every kiss is like…that?”
Pulse racing, hope surged through her. Maybe he wasn’t as sure about a life without love. Was there any chance he’d been as blindsided by the intensity as she had? “Like what?”
The silence echoed—pounded against her ear. Say something. Tell me that kiss surpassed anything you could have imagined. She sighed. “It was just a moment. We were tired. Don’t worry about it. Check your profile. You have two more messages with suitable candidates. I have a friend coming over. I need to go.”
“Megan.”
She closed her eyes, absorbing the ache in the tone of his voice. The one that echoed in her heart. Be strong.
“Good night, Adam.”
She set her phone down and swiped at the tear that escaped. Pouring a glass of milk, she leaned on the counter to drink it. When Garrett showed up ten minutes later, she realized she was still standing there.
Putting the milk back into the fridge, she went to the door and let him in. His long, lean body filled the doorframe. He held up two brown paper bags.
Lifting the right one a little, he grinned. “Wasn’t sure if this was double deep-fried doughnut advice or,” he said, then lifted the left hand, “ice cream worthy.”
She bit her lip to keep from crying, but her smile broke free, and she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his middle. Both of his arms closed around her, and he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.
“Why do I feel like this is a ‘both’ kind of visit?”
She laughed against his chest then moved back so he could come in. Her one bedroom apartment seemed smaller with him in it. Shutting the door behind him, she followed him into the kitchen space, which overlooked the living room area. There was a three-step hallway to the right that led to her bedroom and a bathroom. Simple and functional, it had been a great place to have her own space for the last several years, and as a bonus, it came with the job so she didn’t have to worry about rent.