Five Minute Man: A Contemporary Love Story (Covendale Book 1)

by Abbie Zanders

  Max curled up beside her on the warm stone patio, his eyes lazily watching the birds and butterflies as they flitted around the blooming day lilies and morning glories. She closed her eyes and tried to capture exactly how she felt at that moment. If she could find the right words to describe what she was feeling, if she could manage to convey that in one of her stories, it would be literary gold.

  She must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing she knew, Max was anxiously nuzzling her arm.

  “What’s up, Max?” she asked drowsily, tangling her fingers in his thick, silky fur. It took a moment before her nose and ears registered the scent of something burning and the distant beep of a smoke alarm.

  “What the hell?” Holly bolted upright, automatically saving her latest document and setting her laptop off to the side. She slid the screen door aside and entered the house. The scent was stronger inside, but not overpowering. Holly went from room to room, looking for the source. That was when she realized the smoke was not coming from within, but was wafting through the open windows on the far side of the house.

  She looked outside and spotted the smoke pouring out of the small outbuilding where she kept her lawn and garden equipment, and her outdoor tools.

  Holly ran back into the kitchen and grabbed the small fire extinguisher she kept there. With Max at her heels, she then hurried across the front of the house.

  She had barely placed her hand on the shed’s doorknob when there was a loud boom from within. An instant later, the windows and doors exploded outward, lifting Holly off her feet and throwing her backward.

  A tremendous rush of intense pain burst along the back of her body, and then she wasn’t moving anymore.

  WHEN ADAM’S PHONE BUZZED, he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally!

  “Hey, beautiful.” He grinned into the phone. “What took you so long?”

  “Now that’s more like it.”

  The voice on the other end wiped the smile away instantly. It wasn’t Holly, but Eve. Again. If his business wasn’t tied to his mobile, he would have had the number changed months ago. He had even had Brandon show him how to block her number, but Eve must have caught on and called from another.

  “What do you want, Eve?” he asked, all traces of warmth having fled with his smile.

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “So talk.”

  She laughed softly. “Not over the phone, Adam. In person.”

  “Not interested.”

  “Oooh,” she purred, “you know I love it when you get all growly, Adam. It makes me wet.”

  Her words disgusted him. How had he ever found her attractive? Now, if Holly had called and said that to him ...

  “I know about your little author friend, Adam,” Eve said, confirming his worst fears and freezing him on the spot. “Honestly, I don’t know what you see in her. You are way out of her league.”

  “Stay away from her, Eve,” Adam warned.

  “Or what? It’s a free country, Adam.”

  “I’m not kidding, Eve.”

  “Neither am I,” she said, her voice noticeably less sex-kittenish. “Meet me, Adam. One drink, that’s all I ask.”

  “No.”

  “One drink,” she persisted. “And if, after you hear what I have to say, you still feel the same way, I will bow out gracefully.”

  Adam exhaled. There was absolutely nothing Eve could possibly say that would make him want to get involved with her again. Now that he had found Holly, there was no going back. Holly was everything he wanted in a woman and then some.

  “I am not going to change my mind, Eve.”

  “Then you have nothing to lose, do you? Come on, Adam. One drink. That’s not so much to ask, is it?”

  Every gut instinct he had told him that this was a really bad idea. It sounded far too easy, and nothing involving Eve was ever that simple. Either she was lying outright, or she had some hidden agenda. Either was a likely possibility.

  Yet, there was a part of him that wanted to believe that, deep down, Eve did possess some shred of decency. That after months of unsuccessful attempts to get him back into her life and her bed, she was finally coming to accept the fact that it just wasn’t going to happen.

  “I have one drink with you, and you promise to finally let this go?” he repeated doubtfully.

  “Cross my broken heart.”

  There was a slight chance she was being sincere; that after one last, final attempt, she would be willing to walk away peacefully. That possibility, however remote, was more appealing than his latest plan of filing a restraining order against her and having Holly do the same. If he could finally put this to rest with one drink and a few minutes of his time, wouldn’t it be worth it? And if, as he feared, it didn’t work, well, he would talk to Holly that night and get on those restraining orders first thing in the morning.

  “All right. One drink. Public place. Where do you want to meet?”

  “How about the Lakeside Pub?”

  The Lakeside Pub was only about a five-minute drive from where he was. If he left right from the job site, he could meet Eve for one quick drink and still be at Holly’s within an hour.

  “How long will it take you to get there?”

  “I’m already here.”

  Chapter 24

  Still wondering if he was doing the right thing, Adam put in a call to Holly. When her voicemail picked up again, he left a quick message, hoping to hell he was not making another huge mistake.

  With his clothes coated in plaster powder and sawdust, and his hair stuck to the back of his sweaty neck, Adam managed only a cursory brush-off before walking into the dimly lit bar. He didn’t feel self-conscious; Lakeside had been a community staple for over a hundred years and catered to the blue collar working crowd. Those looking for a classier experience used the formal dining entrance on the other side of the building.

  He was well-known there, sometimes stopping by with a couple of his guys after work when they were in the area. The bartender, Paul, and a few regulars offered him friendly nods as he made his way over to one of the small tables along the wall. Given that it was still early, barely past five, the place was fairly empty.

  Eve was indeed waiting for him, dressed in a provocative, low-cut sundress that showcased her pin-up girl curves. It was wasted on him. At one time, he might have found her attractive, but sometimes not even the prettiest packaging was enough to hide the ugliness inside. He found the pitcher of beer, two large frosty mugs, and filled shot glasses sitting on the table far more interesting.

  Eve gave him a hopeful smile as he approached the table. He did not return it. This meeting was just a formality. His mind was already made up, and the sooner he could get this over with and get back to Holly, the better.

  “Thanks for coming,” she said as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from her.

  “You didn’t give me much choice, Eve. I want this over with.”

  “We always have a choice, Adam,” she said softly.

  He ignored that. If she wanted to spend the next five minutes believing that he came here for any other reason than to get her out of his life once and for all, that was her issue. One drink and he was gone. That was the deal.

  Eve poured them each a beer, then dropped a shot into each mug.

  “Boilermaker?” Adam asked, raising a brow. “Not really your style, is it, Eve?”

  She gave him an enigmatic smile. “If you’re only giving me one drink, I thought it should be a good one.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. Lifting the mug, he downed a quarter of it in one deep swallow. The beer was ice-cold and smooth; the whiskey, top-shelf. Under different circumstances, he would have appreciated it more.

  “The meter’s running, Eve. If you have something to say, you should get to it.”

  Her smile faltered for just a moment. “Fair enough. All right. Here it is: I love you, Adam.” She paused expectantly, searching his face intently for a reaction. Exactly what she was waiting for, he
hadn’t a clue. Had she expected him to be moved by that? Or, God forbid, to return the sentiment?

  Adam’s expression didn’t change when he finally said, “That’s it?”

  “That’s enough, isn’t it?” she asked. “I love you, Adam. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

  He took another drink, reducing the amount remaining in the mug to half. “You don’t love me, Eve. You only want what you can’t have.”

  Her expression hardened slightly as she began to realize that her declaration of love was not having the desired effect. “How can you possibly know what I feel?”

  “I don’t.” He shrugged. “But I do know what love is. It isn’t flirting with and fucking every guy unfortunate enough to catch your attention.”

  Guilt suffused her features even as flames erupted in her eyes. “I didn’t care about any of them! I was trying to make you jealous!”

  Adam continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “It isn’t calling all hours of the day and night to check up on me.”

  Eve’s voice began to rise, growing increasingly shrill. “You weren’t calling me! And I missed you! Is it so bad that I wanted to hear your voice?”

  “And it sure as hell isn’t stalking and threatening every woman I talk to for more than five minutes.”

  “You are mine, Adam. I just wanted them to know that.”

  “Goddammit, Eve!” he said, pounding his fist on the table in frustration as the last of his hope for a clean and easy break faded away. “I am not yours! It was one fucking night!”

  “It was beautiful—”

  “It was sex. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  Eve shook her head vigorously in denial. “No. You love me. I felt it here”—she brought her hand to her heart—“when we made love.”

  “We did not make love. We had sex, sex that you initiated. I did not, nor will I ever, love you, Eve. I’m sorry.”

  For a brief moment, Eve looked like she was going to erupt. Adam prepared himself for the sting of her palm across his face. He wouldn’t have stopped her. His words, however true, were cruel and meant to shock her into acceptance.

  Then the hard lines in her face evened out, and her expression went oddly blank. “You’re scared of commitment. I get that. I really do. It’s why I’ve been so patient. But you can’t keep seeing other women, Adam. It confuses things.”

  Eve started looking a little blurry. Adam blinked a few times to get her back into focus. She wasn’t just crazy, he realized. She was fucking nuts. Coming here had been a complete waste of his time. It was obvious that nothing he said was going to make it through to her delusional mind.

  He reached for his mug, tilting it up and guzzling the rest. He had kept his part of the bargain—one drink while he listened to what she had to say. Now it was time for her to keep hers.

  Slamming it back down on the table decisively, he pushed away from the table and stood. A sudden wave of dizziness assaulted him, forcing him to grip the edge of the table so he wouldn’t end up on his ass.

  What the hell? He wasn’t a big drinker, but one boilermaker shouldn’t be affecting him this much, no matter how fast he drank it.

  “Eve, you need help. Get some. I’m outta here.”

  He took one step, then two, before black dots started creeping in from the edges of his vision. His balance was totally off.

  He stumbled, listing sideways and bumping into another table.

  “Hey, Adam, you okay?” Paul called over.

  Adam opened his mouth and said something. His tongue wasn’t working properly, so it came out slurred and unintelligible.

  “I told him he shouldn’t have had that drink on top of his pain meds,” he heard Eve say. She was right next to him, yet she sounded so far away. “Poor guy hurt his back and can’t go an hour without agony.”

  What kind of bullshit was she spreading? He hadn’t hurt his back.

  Eve tried to put an arm around him to steady him, but he pushed her hand away.

  “I don’t think he should drive,” said one of the regulars.

  “Definitely not,” agreed another, coming over to lend assistance. He slid himself under Adam’s arm and guided him to a chair. “Easy there, Adam.”

  “Jackson?” Adam slurred, squinting at the big bald guy keeping him upright.

  “That’s right. I got you, man.” The big guy called out to Paul from over his shoulder, “Better call his nephew.”

  “Don’t bother,” Eve said quickly. “I can take him home. Just help me get him into my car.”

  “MA’AM! MA’AM! CAN YOU hear me?”

  Holly moaned as the voice cut through the darkness. A man’s voice. Definitely not one she recognized, and not the one she wanted to hear most. It wasn’t Adam’s voice.

  She shifted and an intense wave of pain nearly sent her back into oblivion. She tried to breathe through it, but her throat protested, feeling raw and sore.

  “Don’t try to move, ma’am. Let us check you out first, okay?” Strong, warm hands pushed her back gently. Not Adam’s hands.

  She opened her eyelids, which seemed to have been coated with lead, to find warm brown eyes regarding her from beneath a shock of blond hair.

  “What happened?” she mumbled. At least that was what she tried to say. Her lips felt swollen and cracked; her tongue, roughly the size of a cucumber; and the words didn’t come out nearly as clear as they should have. “Who are you?”

  “Jason Fielding, ma’am. I’m an EMT with the Covendale Fire and Rescue Squad.”

  Fire. That single word gave her mind the jump-start it needed, triggering her memories. The smoke alarm sounding, the vision of the gray and black tendrils seeping through the cracks in the old shed and curling around the eaves. She had run back into the house for her extinguisher, but she hadn’t even gotten the door open before it exploded outward, sending both her and Max hurtling backward ...

  Max!

  “Max!” she called out desperately, sending her into a coughing fit that had stars swimming behind her eyes. “Max! Where’s my dog?”

  Those strong hands kept her from moving too much. “Black and white husky? Freaky eyes?”

  “Yes, yes, that’s him. Have you seen him? Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine,” the EMT said. His voice was commanding, yet deep and soothing. “One of the firefighters is checking him out. Smart dog. He’s the one who led us to you. They’ll bring him over in a minute, but you have to let me check you out first, okay?”

  Thank God. Her breath came out in a whoosh of relief. Max was okay. She couldn’t bear it if something had happened to him.

  The acrid scent of smoke still hung in the air, burning her nose and throat with each breath. Turning her head to the side, she saw the smoldering remains of the small wooden shed. It and its contents were now reduced to nothing but a damp, charred pile of junk.

  “Ma’am, look here, please.” The guy with the kind brown eyes shined a tiny pen light into her eye.

  She felt it clear through to the other side of her skull, as if he had just jammed a big knife right into the socket. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to wrench away, but he must have anticipated the move because he cupped her jaw with one of his hands and kept her from moving too far.

  “I’m sorry about that,” the man said, sounding like he really meant it. “I’ll be as gentle as I can, all right?”

  Holly nodded, the sharp pain down her back making her wish she hadn’t done that. She tried to remain still and quiet while the EMT did his thing. He was only doing his job; it certainly wasn’t his fault she was a major wuss when it came to handling pain.

  He was quick and efficient, assessing her injuries with the skill of someone who had done this more than a few times. Despite his gentle touch, she couldn’t help crying out when he hit upon some particularly tender parts.

  While he worked, she tried to distract herself by thinking about something else. Right at the top of the list of Other Stuff to Think About was what the hell had just hap
pened.

  Things were still pretty fuzzy around the edges, but there had obviously been an explosion, and before that, a fire. But how? And why? Sure, she stored a couple of single-gallon gas containers in there for the mower and the weed-wacker and stuff, but like the equipment, they were practically brand new. She’d had to buy all that stuff when she got the cottage.

  She stored a couple of rags in there, too, for checking the oil and whatnot, but so what? She kept the windows slightly cracked in the summer, and the place was drafty enough to disperse any fumes or vapors that might have built up.

  Had something spontaneously ignited? It did happen occasionally, though it was rare. Or maybe a mouse or something had chewed into some wires? There weren’t any outlets in the shed, but a previous owner had run a line to install a work light.

  “Hey, Jason,” said another, familiar-sounding voice, pulling her back from her thoughts. “Ambulance just pulled up. How is she—holy shit! Holly, is that you?”

  Holly forced her eyelids open again—they kept shutting without conscious effort—and saw Adam’s nephew in full firefighter gear, sans face mask. “Brandon?”

  Damn, but the kid was good-looking, even more so in his uniform. She wished she could have snapped a picture for Liz. He had the makings of a great romance novel cover model. Maybe my next hero should be a fireman, she thought dizzily.

  But wait, he was a waiter, wasn’t he? And going to school to be an engineer? What the hell was he doing dressed as a fireman?

  “I volunteer at the firehouse a couple hours a week,” he answered.

  She realized she must have spoken her thoughts aloud. Well, that explained the slight upturn of his lips, even though his eyes looked worried.

  “My dad was a volunteer fireman, and I took all the training in high school so I could go out with him on calls. You okay?”

  No wonder Adam is so proud of the kid, she thought.

  She nodded, more carefully this time, though she felt anything but okay. “Fucking awesome,” she said, her brain too muddled and her body in too much pain to waste the effort on a filter. “Crap. I don’t need to tip you for this, do I?”