Being Lovers

by Rachel Carrington

  To see him better, I twist in the seat as far as the belt will allow. “How do you know that?”

  “Because they told me. They were giving me time to heal before coming back to make sure Kathleen got their message.”

  “Did you ever think about telling them where she was?”

  “And letting them go after her? No. I didn’t.” His tone hardens. “Once upon a time, I loved her, and regardless of how our marriage ended, I’d never deliberately put her in harm’s way.” He pauses, fingers back to drumming the steering wheel. “And the fact that you have to ask me that…” He stops and shakes his head.

  “I’m just…trying to process this, Adam. You might see it as judgment, but that’s not what I’m feeling. I’m scared out of my mind that you’re going to kill this guy and end up in prison because of some technicality. The Metzgers have always been good at those, and even though they’re no longer alive, that lawyer of Ike’s is. And we don’t know what he has up his sleeve.” I pause then add, “I’m worried because I love you.” It feels good to say it out loud. So normal. “And I don’t want to lose you.”

  He takes my hand in his. “That’s not going to happen.”

  I lower my head to his shoulder. “I’m still not sure I believe Ike’s lawyer is involved in this, though.”

  “Really? You don’t know any sketchy lawyers?”

  The question makes me chuckle. “Lawyers get a bad rap. My uncle was one. A good one.”

  “You never talk about your other relatives.”

  “Neither do you.”

  “Point taken.” Instead of pushing me for more information, he falls silent which tells me his secrets are deeply buried.

  Curiosity gets the best of me.

  “Who called you?”

  Adam doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “When?”

  “Right before Francine called me.”

  His hands flex around the steering wheel. “No one. It was nothing important.”

  I stiffen and slide an inch or so away from him. “Why won’t you tell me who it was then?”

  “Because it doesn’t matter.”

  “I don’t know how things work in your world, Adam, but in mine, saying things like that only makes me question you more. If it was no one important, then why not tell me who it is?”

  He blows out a heavy breath and rolls his shoulders forward, hesitating long enough for me to think he’s going to ignore me. When he finally responds, it isn’t to appease my need for information. “Could we talk about this later? We have enough to deal with right now.”

  Irritation snakes it way down my spine. “Fine.”

  “And every man in America knows what that word means coming from a woman.”

  I give him a dirty look he can’t see. “And usually it comes when a man’s being an ass.”

  Silence stretches out like the dark road ahead of us. We allow it because neither of us wants to push past the barriers tonight. Tomorrow would bring its own set of problems, and facing those were more important. But there would come a time when I had to know more about this man I love.

  Cranfield isn’t known for its hospitality as evidenced by the surly night attendant who slides the room key across the counter with more of a grunt than a word. He points toward the elevator and resumes reading his comic book.

  Adam lifts our one suitcase while I trudge behind him into the elevator that smells like cheap perfume and cigarettes. This is the only hotel in the small town so we didn’t have the luxury of a choice.

  “You just had to pick Cranfield.” The attendant’s testiness seems to have worn off on me as I wait impatiently for Adam to get the door to our room unlocked. The key card isn’t cooperating, and it takes him several tries to get the green light.

  Adam pushes the door open without responding to my comment. I walk in ahead of him, a little relieved to see the room in fairly decent shape. The queen size bed’s made, the tiny bathroom is clean, and there are plenty of towels.

  “It’s just for one night,” Adam reminds me, looking over my shoulder in the mirror.

  I sigh. “It’s not the room. Not really.” His arms slide around me from behind, and I cover his hands that have settled at my waist.

  “Is it Broomtown?” Palms warming my abdomen, he rests his chin against my shoulder.

  “I just want this to be over, but something tells me I’m never going to be free of Ike Metzger.”

  “Yes, you are.” He gives me a slight squeeze and lifts his head. “We’re close to catching this guy, and then you can really start to live.”

  As much as I want to explain what I’m feeling, I can’t. What’s going on inside of me is about more than living again. There seem to be shadows everywhere. Hidden secrets. Dangers lurking around corners with no end in sight. And I doubt that catching this sniper will put an end to Ike’s hold beyond the grave.

  “Hey, look at me.” Adam turns me in his arms. “This will be over soon.”

  I manage a weak smile. His eyes tell me he’s not convinced. “I know.”

  He kisses me, a slow, sweet taste that sets my blood to humming. But I push against his chest before he can deepen it. “Go take your shower. I’m going to check in on Francine one more time before bed.”

  One eyebrow raises, but Adam doesn’t question my instruction. Instead, he tosses the suitcase onto the foot of the bed and digs out a pair of boxer shorts. Then he takes his time getting undressed. Muscles ripple as he tugs his shirt out of his pants. I could unbutton it faster with my eyes closed.

  Taut abs come into view when he rolls the shirt from his shoulders. He tosses it at me, and I catch it mid-air. His scent drifts down to coat my senses, and I hold the material close to my face until I hear his zipper. “Adam.” I whisper because my throat won’t allow me to produce anything stronger.

  He yanks off his boots and socks then slowly slides his jeans down over his hips. My mouth is in desperate need of water when he steps out of the denim. His black boxer briefs fit him like a second skin. Catching my eye, he winks and strolls to the bathroom.

  I flop back against the mattress and close my eyes. Damn him. The last thing I wanted to think about tonight was sex, but that impromptu strip tease could have charmed the habit off a nun.

  He’s whistling when he gets in the shower, and I think about joining him. I’m halfway off the bed when his cellphone rings. I check the caller id to make sure it isn’t Gary. The name staring up at me stuns me.

  Kathleen. As in his ex-wife. I should let the call go to voice mail. As my finger hovers over the answer key, the phone stops ringing. Back down on the edge of the bed I hold his phone in the palm of my hand, stare at the screen, and wonder why he still has his ex-wife’s number programmed into his cellphone. And how often he talks to her.

  It starts to ring again. She’s determined to talk to him. This time I do answer. “Hello?”

  “I need to speak with Adam.”

  “He’s not available right now. I can give him a message.” I sound like his secretary.

  “Who are you?” The voice becomes challenging.

  “What’s the message?” I’m not answering questions from a woman who isn’t supposed to be in Adam’s life anymore.

  “I asked who you were.” Now she sounds pissed like she has every right to demand a response from anyone who picks up Adam’s phone.

  “I’ll tell him you called, Kathleen.”

  “No, wait. I need to talk to him. It’s important, and I know he’s ignoring my calls.”

  “He only ignored one.”

  She huffs. “I’ve been calling him for a week. Are you…are you his girlfriend?”

  “Who’s on the phone?” Adam strolls into the room wearing a slim-fitting towel around his waist, Rivulets of water run down his chest and dive beneath the cotton.

  I look up from the small patch of hair below his navel and hand him his cell. “Your ex-wife.”

  He frowns and brings the phone to his ear. “Kathleen, I can’t help you anymo
re. Stop calling me.”

  Though I’m trying not to listen, I can hear her pleading with him. He remains firm and eventually ends the call by hanging up on her. I busy myself with turning down the bed and gathering my things for a shower.

  “She wants money.” Adam sounds exhausted, like he’s been down this path before.

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was the one who called you in the truck?”

  “Because I’d rather not talk about her.”

  “So why not just block her calls?”

  He drops his gaze to the phone that he’s rolling over and over in his hands. “She’s not a bad person, Emily. Just misguided. And I don’t hate her for leaving me. I thought I did, and it took me a long time to realize she wasn’t the woman I wanted to spend my life with. Now, I feel sorry for her. I guess that’s why I keep her number.”

  “Why does she need money?” I sit beside him on the bed, strangely feeling closer to him than ever before. Maybe it’s because he’s opening up to me even if it did take a phone call to force the issue.

  A long sigh breaks forth, and he massages the back of his neck with one hand. “She has a bad gambling habit. I thought she’d gotten herself straight, but she’s in deep again, probably to a bookie or a loan shark.”

  “Are you sure money is what this call is about?” As much as I want to dislike his ex-wife, she sounded almost panicked on the phone, and I know how that feels.

  “No. She’s left a couple of messages I didn’t return, but like I said, I’ve been down this road before. The only time she calls me is when she needs money. I can’t bail her out again.”

  “She’s done this before? Since you’ve been divorced?”

  “Twice. She’s upped the distress a notch this time. Hell, maybe she’s telling the truth, and she really is in trouble. But I’m not doing her any favors by paying off her debts. She needs help I can’t give her.”

  “But what if she’s in danger?”

  “Then she should call the police, and I’ve told her that.” Adam drops his phone onto the table between the beds. “I’m not her keeper, Emily, and she’s not my responsibility anymore.” It sounds like the matter is closed, and a long moment of silence passes before he adds, “I can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”

  I stand up and study him for a long second. “You’ve gotten her into treatment programs before.” I don’t need to pose it as a question. It’s what any husband would do in an effort to save his marriage or perhaps to save the life of a woman he loved.

  He stacks his hands behind his head and looks away. “You should go take a shower. I want to be in Broomtown at eight tomorrow so we’ll need to be up early.”

  My patience slips a notch. “I get up early every morning, Adam. If you don’t want to talk about this anymore, then just say so.”

  “There’s nothing more to talk about. Kathleen isn’t going to stop gambling because she doesn’t think she has a problem. And I’m not going to jump to her defense every time she calls. Now do you see why I didn’t tell you about this? Talking about it is about as helpful as putting her in an addiction treatment center.”

  “Right.” I turn my back to him and rifle through the suitcase to find something to wear. I’m on my way to the bathroom when he calls my name. “What?” I don’t look back.

  “She isn’t a part of my life anymore.”

  I switch on the bathroom light. “Yes, she is…because she’s a problem you haven’t resolved. And I know how much you hate that. You have to be in control of every aspect of your life, and because Kathleen is still gambling, you feel like you can’t fully let her go. That’s why her name is still in your phone, and that’s why you don’t want to talk about her. She represents something you have no control over.”

  He sits up on the edge of the bed, drawing my attention. “Will you stop? I don’t need to be analyzed.”

  I pivot to face him. “Maybe not, but you do need to accept that there are things in life that happen without your permission, and you can’t fix everyone or every situation. You say you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped, yet, you haven’t stopped trying. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but it makes you take chances, risks, that could end up hurting you more than the person you’re trying to help.”

  A frown mars his face. “And now we’re back to talking about the sniper and us. Dammit, Emily.” He stands. “I know what I’m doing, but for some reason, you think I don’t. Do you see the badge on my shirt? I’m trained to catch criminals, and this guy who’s shooting up Juniper Springs is a criminal. Like it or not, it’s my responsibility to find him.”

  “And if that was the only reason you were so hell-bent on catching him, great, but it’s not.”

  He stalks toward me, the towel riding low on his hips. “It doesn’t matter if it’s the only reason. I don’t take stupid risks, and I don’t need someone constantly reminding me that I’m mortal.”

  “So you’re pissed now that I don’t want you to get hurt? You know what loving someone means, don’t you?” Fury guides my steps toward him, and we meet in the center of the room.

  “I know it doesn’t mean trying to prevent them from doing their job. I know what I’m doing.”

  “You’re tracking him, not to arrest him. That’s not your intention at all.”

  “We’ve already talked about how this was going to have to end.”

  “Was there ever any doubt in your mind that you were going to kill him? I mean, from the beginning, was that your plan?”

  “What difference does it make as long as the outcome is you’re no longer in danger?”

  “Maybe it’s wrong of me, but I have a problem with you being so comfortable with killing.”

  His jaw tightens, and he spins around, walking away from me, but I won’t let him go far. “There’s a reason for that, isn’t there? I know you haven’t always been in Juniper Springs. So why won’t you tell me where you were, what you were? Why does your past have to be such a secret?”

  “Shit.” He paces in front of the compact bathroom counter. “I really don’t want to have this conversation with you here.”

  “It’s not just the place. You don’t want to have the conversation with me at all.”

  He rubs his eyes then nods. “You’re right. I don’t. There’s a part of my life that I want to keep to myself. I’m not saying that’s right, but it’s just how it is.”

  “Why would you want to keep anything hidden from me? You know everything about me.”

  “Do I?” His eyebrows rise.

  “Yes.” The one words comes out through gritted teeth. “Once you found out that I’d shot Mark, you knew everything. It’s not like I’ve led a long and storied life. I grew up in Broomtown and lived there all of my adult life until I ran away. You know the rest.” Before he can say anything, I hold up one hand. “But I’m not going to push you. If you don’t want to talk about this, don’t.”

  My hand is on the doorknob to the bathroom, and I give him time to call out to me, to stop my progress. When he says nothing, I slip inside and close the door, resting my back against the painted wood.

  I don’t understand his need for secrecy, but forcing him to tell me what he wants to keep hidden will only drive a wedge between us. But I wish he trusted me enough to share all of his life with me and not just the pieces he lets the rest of the world see.

  Chapter Eleven

  Adam reaches for me, his hand settling on my hip to draw me closer to him. The first rays of sunlight shimmer across the faded comforter, and though I’m still angry with him, I follow his lead. Because I want to be close to him. If only for a moment.

  His lips graze my cheek, and I turn my head slightly so he can kiss me good morning. Neither one of us brings up last night. It’s too early, and we’re content to pretend everything is right in our world, even if just for a few moments more.

  He brushes the hair back from my face, allowing his fingers to linger against my cheek. Our gazes meet, an
d the love in the depths of his eyes melts a little more of my anger. Whatever is going on inside of him, that’s preventing him from sharing more of himself with me, is so much more than just a few secrets.

  I touch a finger to his lips and smile. “I love you.” I need him to hear the words, to know that, in spite of the wedge of last night’s conversation, my feelings for him hadn’t change. They would never change.

  “I love you, too.” His lips touch mine again. And again. The moment heats as he rolls me to my back, using the leverage of his body to cocoon mine against the mattress. But too soon, he pulls back, lifting his head to look at me. “As much as I’d love to continue this…”

  “I know.” I don’t let him finish the sentence. Now isn’t the time, and another glance around the hotel room reminds me it isn’t the place. I roll out from beneath him and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “You want to make a coffee run while I start getting ready?”

  “Just can’t live without that stuff, can you?” He winks at me and slides out of the bed to get dressed.

  I smile back, but my heart grows heavy. As much as we love one another, there’s a barrier between us, something that will keep us from moving forward. Adam doesn’t see that…or maybe he does, and he’s wrestling with it just like I am.

  While he’s gone, I dress quickly and drag a brush through my hair. Once finished, I call Francine. I glance at the clock as I do and wince. It’s too early, but she answers on the first ring.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize the time.”

  “Don’t be. I was awake. I’m not used to going to bed with the chickens, but since I did, I was up with them, too. How are things?”

  “Adam and I are going to Broomtown this morning.”

  She yawns in my ear. “I didn’t know you were leaving so soon.” She pauses then adds, “Be careful on the drive.”

  I hesitate before telling her the truth. “We left last night.”

  “What?” Now she sounds surprised. “You didn’t mention it when we talked.”