by Gina Wilkins
“Absolutely,” she answered firmly after taking only a moment to recover from her surprise. “There’s been a connection between us from the start, Adam. I’ve never felt that bond with anyone else.”
“Me, either. And no one else has ever scared me quite like you do,” he confessed.
Her smile felt shaky. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. It means I’ve known from the start that what we had was different. Special.”
“Potentially life-changing,” she said, understanding exactly what he meant.
“Well, yeah.”
“And you weren’t so sure you wanted your life to change.”
“I guess I needed a reason to try,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her cheek. “And then you and Simon showed up, and it didn’t take me long to realize that I would never find two better reasons. I was just too stubborn—and yeah, too intimidated—to admit it at first.”
She stroked his face, savoring his rueful smile. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
A hint of nervousness returned to his eyes. “I still can’t make guarantees,” he warned. “We’ll give it our best shot, but if it doesn’t work out—if you decide this isn’t what you want—or if you have any concerns about how Simon will be affected—”
She nestled into him. “All we can do is give it a chance,” she murmured. “Whatever happens, both of us will do everything in our power to protect Simon.”
“That I can promise,” he said fervently.
Which only reminded her again of why she was so drawn to him. One of the reasons, anyway, she thought as his mouth closed over hers again.
His hands were on her and she pressed closer even as she murmured, “We need to—”
“Later,” he growled, fumbling with the top button of her shirt.
Her hands had slipped beneath his shirt, her palms gliding up his back. She nipped his lower lip. “I don’t think—”
“Good.” He pushed the shirt off her shoulders. “Don’t think.”
His shirt went over his head, landing in an open box somewhere. She kissed his chin, his throat, his scars. “This isn’t—”
“—going to take long,” he said with a rough laugh of apology. “God, I want you, JoJo.”
The couch was covered with books. She pushed him down the hallway and he proved how adept he was at walking backward and still kissing her senseless. He almost stumbled over a box in the bedroom. The contents rattled and he muttered a curse, then laughed when she gave another shove and he tumbled onto her bed.
“After this,” she said, falling on top of him, “we’re going to do a lot more talking.”
The smile he shot her could only be described as piratical. “Eventually,” he promised.
His arms locked around her, gathering her closer. She had no desire to resist, to make an effort to hang on to caution or common sense, to be sensible and responsible and practical. The way she always was, always had been—except with Adam.
Her fingers burrowed into his hair, holding him in place. Not that he was trying to pull away. Her tongue welcomed his, and her vulnerable heart responded to the taste and feel of him. How could she have missed him this much when their time together had been so short?
His right hand slid down her back, traced the curve of her bottom. Liquid heat flooded through her, warming her skin, melting any last qualms she might have harbored. She moved against him, and felt a thrill of satisfaction when she drew a deep moan from his throat.
Everything about this man was irresistible—his face, his body, his laugh, the way he moved, the way he looked at her. The way he kissed, the way his hands danced so skillfully over her. She didn’t even want to think about any issues lurking outside this cozy bed.
She just wanted to enjoy.
Her clothing proved little impediment. He didn’t even fumble with zippers or buttons before they fell away. He gave her no chance to be self-conscious about the changes time and pregnancy had made to her body, but caressed her with an obvious appreciation that made her forget any petty insecurities.
She thought he seemed a little more hesitant when she tugged at his shirt, but she made it equally clear his scars didn’t bother her, other than as a reminder of what he’d suffered. The evidence of his pain made her heart hurt, but he gave her no chance to dwell on the sadness. He lowered her into the deep pillows and settled against her, strong and pulsing and thoroughly male.
She ran her hands over his chest, stringing kisses along his jaw, his throat, his collarbone—any part of him she could reach while he explored her with equal enthusiasm. Her pulse raced, her breath escaped raggedly from her throat, her vision glazed as her other senses kicked into overdrive. Every inch of her ached and quivered with a need for release.
Adam drew away only long enough to don protection retrieved from his pants pocket, then returned immediately to her. She welcomed him with a sense of joyous familiarity, a feeling of rightness that, again, she felt only with him.
Maybe this was love. The kind she’d always hoped to find. However she defined them, her feelings for Adam were powerful, exhilarating, and...yeah, scary. And as she surrendered to mindless sensation, she knew that whatever she might call her feelings for him, whatever heartache they might yet bring, they weren’t ever going away.
* * *
JOANNA LAY TUCKED into Adam’s left side, his arm around her, his skin warm and damp beneath her cheek. This was his mostly undamaged side, so she didn’t worry about hurting him, but he didn’t seem to let his injuries hold him back much anyway.
He brushed her tumbled hair back from her face. “Hi,” he said when she looked at him.
She laughed softly. “Hi.”
“So, how’ve you been?”
Though she knew he was teasing, she thought about her answer. How had she been since she’d seen him last? She’d been busy. Deliberately busy. Almost frantically busy, anything to keep her from thinking about Adam. About how much she missed him. How challenging it would be to have him part of her son’s life—and in extension, part of hers—without reopening the cracks in her heart.
And here she was in bed with him again, having all but climbed him like a tree at no more than the touch of his hands on her cheeks.
How did he do this to her?
“We’ve never had any problems with communicating this way,” she murmured. “I’ve never had to ask what you wanted or what you needed from me in bed. Outside the bedroom—well, I don’t have a clue.”
“You’re not going to start calling me a stranger again, I hope.”
She flushed at his dubious tone.
He rolled to half pin her to the bed, waiting until she met his eyes before he spoke very evenly and precisely. “You want to know what I want? I want you, JoJo. I have since the first time I laid eyes on you. It was true when I walked away from you the first time, which I did because I thought it would be easier for you than seeing me off to a war zone. It was true when I was in that hospital, letting memories of you ease the pain during therapy sessions.”
“Adam—”
He continued as if she hadn’t even tried to speak. “I wanted you when you showed up again on that beach, looking as beautiful as the day we met, accompanied by my son, who you’d raised to be such a great kid. And the day I watched you leave without me.”
Her heart was beating so fast she had to force her words out. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because, as my friend Walt puts it so succinctly, I’m an idiot.”
Her smile was fleeting. The answer was amusing, but didn’t really tell her much.
As if sensing she wasn’t satisfied, he grew serious again. “There haven’t been many people I could depend on in my life. You get used to not expecting anything. To keep from getting hurt and disappointed over
and over, you learn to be the one to say goodbye first. You stop asking for anything. You tell yourself you’ve stopped wishing things were different. That you’re alone because you like it. And when someone gets too close, when they start making you want what you’re afraid to ask for—you run. But you tell yourself you’re moving on because it’s best for everyone involved.”
It was the most Adam had ever said to her about his past. It was a lot to take in, and yet he’d confirmed so much of what she’d already suspected. She just hadn’t been sure he’d been aware of those things. Perhaps he hadn’t been before now. Before he’d made himself stop pushing everyone away.
“What are you telling yourself now?” she asked quietly.
“That I’ve missed you,” he said. “Especially after having the chance to spend more time with you.”
It wasn’t exactly a romantic declaration. She noted that he hadn’t used the word love. But for Adam, this was major.
Her doorbell rang and she started. She rolled out from beneath him and reached quickly for her clothes, scrambling into them. “I’m expecting a delivery. I totally forgot.”
She dashed barefoot to the door without giving him a chance to answer, pushing her hands though her messy hair. A couple of minutes later, she had the package in hand. Seeing Adam leaning in the doorway, mussed and shirtless, she felt her mouth go dry.
“Um, it’s a book,” she said, eating him up with her eyes.
He grinned, and her knees almost liquefied. After a glance around the book-strewn room, he said, “Looks like you need a couple more of those.”
“It’s a photo book,” she said, shaking her head at him. “Pictures of our vacation at the resort. You’re in it.”
“I’d like to see it.”
“I’ll show it to you.” She set the package on a table as she walked resolutely toward him. “Later.”
His laugh was muffled by the kiss she pulled him into.
* * *
“DAMN IT.”
Because Joanna had fallen onto her back, still trembling and gasping for breath as she muttered the curse, Adam laughed. His voice was still gravelly, his breathing still ragged when he asked, “What?”
“We were going to talk.”
“We can still talk.”
“Not unless you get dressed,” she said, rolling over to reach for her own clothes.
He leaned back against the headboard, watching as she gathered garments into her arms. “So the scars don’t bother you?”
She spotted her jeans halfway across the room, and had to take a moment to process what he was asking. Clutching her clothing to her chest, she stared at him as the words sank in. “What? No, of course not. Have I given you that impression?”
“No,” he admitted. “It’s just—well, they weren’t there before.”
“I have a few marks that weren’t there before, too,” she said quietly. “Our experiences are part of us, Adam. Some show on the outside, some don’t, but the only thing I dislike about your scars is the pain they represent.”
He nodded. His expression didn’t change, but she thought her answer pleased him. Her throat tight, she carried her clothing into the bathroom.
An hour later, both dressed, they sat on her now-cleared couch, eating delivery pizza from paper plates and looking slowly through the photo book together. Adam seemed to get a kick out of the themed groupings and whimsical embellishments she’d chosen to highlight each day of the vacation. He studied each page at length before moving to the next, as if memorizing Simon’s expression.
She knew he’d want to see more photos of Simon’s life and she had, of course, captured every stage from birth to the present day in photographs and scrapbooks. She had no doubt Adam would enjoy those—but would they make him sad about how much he’d missed? Probably, though he might not admit it. It made her sad for him, though they were both trying to let the past go and make a fresh start for the future.
The question was, exactly how did Adam see that future? He’d said he wanted her, that he wanted a chance to make something real with her, but did he honestly think they could do that when they lived across the continent from each other?
“This book is still stored in my account at the website,” she said when he’d turned the final page. “I could order a copy for you, if you’d like.”
He turned his head to look at her. “I sort of thought I’d be able to look at this one occasionally.”
“Whenever you like,” she answered evenly. At least that was a sign that he planned to visit them in Seattle.
He nodded and set the book aside to reach for another slice of pizza. “Have your parents been told about me?”
“Of course.”
“How did they react?”
“They were surprised. And maybe a little suspicious at first that maybe I’d gone back to Wind Shadow specifically to find you, even though I told them that wasn’t the case.”
He looked offended on her behalf. “They didn’t believe you?”
“They did.” Eventually.
“So, what did they say after you convinced them?”
She wondered how candid she should be. But then decided she might as well put everything out there. After all, if he was going to be an active part of Simon’s life—of hers—he would likely meet them at some point, and her parents weren’t the most tactful people.
“They’re concerned, I guess. Simon couldn’t stop talking about you, so they hope you’ll be a good influence on him. They worry about your effect on me, too. While my career path isn’t exactly the one they’d have chosen for me, they don’t want you to complicate things for me. Again, as they see it.”
“Well, that’s an honest answer,” he said after a moment.
“You asked,” she reminded him.
He nodded, and she watched him swallow before he said, “I suppose I should meet them, though I’m not sure that will set their minds at ease, considering how difficult they sound to impress. Especially when they find out I’m soon to be unemployed.”
“Unemployed?” She dropped her half-eaten slice of pizza on her plate and scooted around to face him on the couch. “What do you mean? I can’t believe Trevor would have fired you. Did you quit?”
He looked rather surprised by her surprise. “No. At least, not yet. But I can hardly keep my job as his assistant from three thousand miles away in Seattle.”
“You’re planning to move to Seattle?” she asked blankly.
Losing interest in his own meal, Adam pushed away his plate and wiped his hands on a paper napkin. The easy smile he’d worn for most of the evening vanished. “What the hell do you think we’ve been talking about since I got here?”
Pressing both hands to her temples, she realized that she hadn’t let herself think at all since he’d arrived. Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t be so stunned—and so inexplicably anguished—by Adam’s announcement.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ADAM’S PHONE RANG while Joanna struggled to process his intentions. He took it out of his pocket and tossed it on the table beside the pizza box without even glancing at the screen. He continued to look at her, waiting for her to respond.
Glancing at the phone when it rang for a second time, she bit her lip. She would bet the call had something to do with his work. Even in the few days she’d spent there, well aware that he’d neglected his responsibilities to spend more time with her and Simon, she’d seen how valuable he was to the resort. How much his coworkers respected and depended on him.
“It’s obvious you love your job,” she said, twisting her fingers in her lap. “And that they feel lucky to have you there.”
“I can find another job,” he said, though Joanna believed she detected a hint of regret in his voice. “It might be swinging a hammer on a construction site or flipping gourmet bu
rgers for all those highly paid techies I hear are out there, but I’m not picky when it comes to honest work. I’ll pay my own way. Would it bother you if I come home with dirt under my nails?”
Home. She gulped in response to the word, then scowled when she realized exactly what he was asking. “Don’t be insulting, Adam. You should know full well that I don’t care about things like that.”
He held up an appeasing hand. “I figured you’d see it that way. The point is, yeah, I like my job at Wind Shadow just fine. But I want to be a part of your life. A part of Simon’s life. And if that means moving across the whole damned country, then that’s what I’ll do. The only thing holding me back at the moment is you.”
He looked hard at her face as his phone rang yet again. “Maybe I’ve been reading you all wrong today. Or maybe you didn’t understand what I meant. So it’s time to spread all our cards on the table, Joanna. What do you want?”
His phone finally fell silent. For seconds that stretched into minutes, the only sound in the room was a clock ticking on the wall as she thought about his question.
Adam didn’t rush her into an answer. He merely sat there, his expression shuttered as he waited, seemingly prepared for her to either welcome him into her future or send him on his way. She had a feeling he was braced for the latter. After all, that was what he was used to, she thought with a pang.
“I want you to have a relationship with Simon,” she said slowly, sincerely. “I’ll do everything in my power to help you with that. To help make up for the years you missed with him.”
“I appreciate that,” he said, though he didn’t look particularly grateful as he continued to eye her. “But what about us, Joanna? What do you want?”
He’d spaced out the words deliberately, all but daring her to prevaricate or procrastinate any longer.
She bit her lip, then released it in resignation. She was well aware of how hard it must have been for Adam to come here. To take an emotional risk when he’d spent most of his life avoiding them. The least she could give him in return was total honesty.
Unable to sit any longer, she stood and took a few steps away from the couch, then turned to bare her emotions to him.