"Here," Adam said. His voice was gruff but there was the soft brush of fabric into my hands and I found myself holding what I suspected was his suit jacket and which smelled wonderfully like Adam. I shrugged myself into the fabric, bumping into Adam in the process. It was much more snug under the coat, still warm as it was from his body, and my next shiver wasn't from the cold.
Adam snaked his arm across the back of the swing and even through the layers of fabric separating us, I could feel his hand brush my shoulder.
"Am I forgiven?" I whispered.
Adam didn't answer, but his hand reached up to stroke my neck beneath my collar. I shivered again and settled into the crook of his arm. He didn't push me away, which I took as a good sign.
I tilted my chin up, and by the light of the latest cigarette I could see the outline of Adam's jaw and chin; his lips were set at a determined line, but the hardness in his features I'd seen earlier over dinner was gone.
"Are you going to do the story?" he asked in a low, quiet tone.
"I don't know," I admitted. "It's not my sort of story in the first place, but I wasn't given a choice. Please believe me when I say I didn't set out to snoop on you. It's all just awful co-incidence."
Adam didn't say anything right away and for a moment I wasn't sure he believed me, but he'd wrapped one of my escaped curls around his finger to play absentmindedly with it and the gentle touch was comforting.
"Couldn't you tell your boss it was a conflict of interest?"
I laughed softly. "I'm a journalist Adam, not a doctor or a lawyer. I don't think it works like that. I could refuse the assignment, but I'm not sure how my boss would react to that. Probably bump me down to writing obituaries."
There was silence again for a while. I desperately wanted to keep talking, to hash everything out until nothing was left unsaid between us, but that was very obviously not Adam's style of communication. It was difficult to bite my tongue. I could almost feel the itch of curiosity like it was a physical thing. Half of me wanted to question Adam until he confessed the whole sordid tale, but the other half enjoyed the feather-light brush of his fingers across my neck and was afraid he'd stop if I spoke.
It must have been the rye I'd consumed with Joe but my eyelids seemed to get heavier and heavier as each minute slipped by, so much so that I almost could have thought I imagined the first brush of Adam's lips against my cheek.
I turned my head lazily to find Adam watching me with interest. My eyes had adjusted a little to the darkness of the porch, but I wished I could see just how green his eyes were, wished I could read what they were saying that his lips were not.
I kissed him. Everything happened so fast that looking back, I can't be sure of the sequence of events, but we were kissing frantically before I knew it. The unrelenting heat of Adam's tongue and lips made me moan and arch against him as if we were kissing for the first time. There was a fierceness behind the kiss which frightened me, not because of Adam and who he was and what he'd done, but because I didn't think I capable of reciprocating just as hungrily, but I did.
Every time Adam tried to retreat I followed, diving into another kiss which he took up with a moan. I wrapped his necktie around my hand to keep him from escaping and pressed myself against him as much as I could. I wanted to taste everything his mouth offered me. The combination of his kisses and the rye made me dizzy but I pushed on, coming up for short, panting breaths when I could, but never staying away from his kisses for long.
His cock was hard beneath his dress pants. I could feel it press against my hip when I angled myself towards him and I couldn't resist the urge to touch him. I stroked the length of him through the fabric, loving how hard he was for me. He groaned with each teasing pass and I could have sworn he grew bigger.
Adam's hands strayed up into my hair, pulling it gently free from the bobby pins that kept it trapped. Each scrape of his fingers against my scalp made me shiver. The old swing creaked and groaned beneath us as our passion grew more frantic. I traced the seam of his zipper, frustrated by the lack of contact between our skin; slowly I eased down the fly of his trousers. I wanted to see him.
"W-wait - Lilly," Adam gasped, as I worked his button free and spread open the front of his pants. My hands were searching frantically for the button on his boxer shorts and I growled with frustration when I couldn't get my chilled fingers to work.
I tried to kiss him again, to distract him and myself from my clumsy attempts at freeing his cock, but Adam froze, stilled my fumbling efforts, and with his hands on my shoulders he held me out at a distance from him.
"What?" I gasped. The absence of his mouth on mine made me realize how hard we'd been kissing. My lips were numb and tingling.
"I don't think we should do this now," Adam muttered.
"Fine, it's chilly out here, we'll go inside," I suggested. I tried to rise up off the swing, but his firm grip held me still.
"No, Lilly. I don't think we should do this at all. Not now. You've been drinking and I…" he trailed off and an uncharacteristic flicker of uncertainty crossed his face.
"I'm sorry?" I sputtered. I was so confused and the rapid thudding of my heart made it difficult to hear, to understand. It felt as if the pit of my stomach had just dropped away completely, leaving nothing but a gnawing ache "Don't you want…?"
Adam sighed. He rubbed my upper arms, his touch earnest. "Of course I want you Lilly. Why wouldn't I? Look at you! But I don't think this is a good time. I think you'll regret it later."
"I'm not drunk," I retorted automatically, feeling my temper rise.
"Well you're not sober either," Adam countered. "You should go home, go to bed. Give us a few days apart and then we can talk about what we want."
His grip on my arms slackened and I stood, ignoring the dizziness that washed over me at the change of altitude. I was mad. I was embarrassed. I didn't want Adam to see either.
"Fine," I said, hoping I sounded nonchalant and not hurt. Maybe there was something to the idea of putting a little distance between us. I'd apologized, but I still hadn't gotten an apology in return, still hadn't heard the story I'd come to hear, still hadn't gotten the truth.
I moved towards the stairs to the yard and tried not to wobble on the damned high-heels I was wearing.
"I'll walk you home," Adam offered. "It's late."
My mind flashed quickly to the image of Joe drunkenly sleeping it off in my apartment. I might not have been thinking straight, but I knew getting the two of them in the same room was a bad idea.
"I'll be fine," I murmured as I carefully navigated the rickety steps.
"Don't be silly, Lil. You can't go wandering around the city by yourself. If you don't want me to take you, at least let me call you a cab."
I didn't have any money with me, but I didn't want to admit that to Adam. It had been a stupid mistake for me to make, but when the evening had begun all those hours ago, I hadn't anticipated it ending in the quite the way it had.
"I'll be fine," I repeated stubbornly. "It's not that far."
Adam rose, righted the fly of his pants, and moved swiftly to grab hold of my wrist. It made me mad that the contact of his fingers against my skin was electric. I wondered if he could feel my pulse quicken.
He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and by the eerie blue light it threw off I could see the immovable line of his jaw. It only took a few words for him to order me a cab and I couldn't bring myself to argue with him. I was cold, tired, and disappointed; suddenly getting out of the damn dress and shoes and curling up on my sofa for a good cry seemed like a very good idea.
The silence that stretched between us while we waited for the cab was awkward and it seemed like a million minutes before we heard the car pull up to the curb out front and honk. Adam took my arm and guided me through the dark side yard and out onto the sidewalk where the cab idled. He opened the door and sat me down before he gave the driver my address and a twenty-dollar bill. It was more than enoug
h money to get me halfway across the island.
"Good night, Lilly. I'll call you on Friday and we'll talk," Adam offered. He leaned down to kiss me quickly before closing the door without giving me a chance to respond. The cabbie pulled away from the curb slowly and I turned my head to watch Adam as he stood on the sidewalk and watched me go.
The lights were all off at my place when I stumbled up the stairs. Joe had the foresight to leave the door unlocked and I barely remember stripping off the detested dress, bustier, and stockings before I bundled myself under the afghan on my sofa. I was tired - bone-wearily, head-achingly tired, and already I could feel the prickly edge of sleep dance behind my lashes.
The door to my bedroom was closed, but from behind it I could hear the faint rumble of Joe's snores. I wondered how much longer he'd stayed at the bar and how much more he'd had to drink. I hoped he'd called Mom to tell her where he was spending the night so she didn't worry about him.
Every time I closed my eyes Adam's face swam in front of me and I'm not ashamed to admit I let more than a few tears fall before I drifted off to sleep.
The first thing I noticed when I awoke was that someone had thrown another blanket over me at some point in the night. My cat, Lucy Maud was snuggled up against my hip and purring happily, and for a little while I let my mind wander, skipping back over the previous night's events. I hated to acknowledge it but Adam had been right; if I'd slept with him I would have regretted it. We hadn't fixed anything between us and sex, no matter how good, doesn't solve any problems. Distance and time to think was what I needed – that, and coffee.
The deep timbre of Joe's voice from the kitchen stirred me to full wakefulness. There was a hushed quality about it that was odd, and for a brief moment I wondered if he was on the phone with Mom, apologizing for not being there for morning chores, until I heard the distinctly feminine cadence of the person who replied.
I froze.
There was a husky laugh from my brother and an answered giggle. My temper flared and I rose, wrapping my mostly naked self in an afghan. Joe had brought someone home from the bar! Home to my apartment, to my bed. Whoever the floozy was, she was going to regret it; it had been a long couple of days and I was in no mood for some random woman taking advantage of my big brother in a vulnerable state. Once I'd gotten rid of her I was going to take Joe to task too. He said he'd wanted a sister with backbone and he was going to get one.
I rounded the corner to the kitchen, fully prepared to give them both hell, but froze at a dead stop as my jaw hit the floor.
Joe was standing in his boxers, his broad chest bare, with his arms wrapped around a tall, curvy brunette. They were kissing passionately and his hands were kneading her ass, lifting her off the floor. She had her back to me and was wearing nothing more than his t-shirt, her own arms wrapped around his neck, her hands buried in his hair. It was obvious they were completely unaware of my presence and I was so shocked by the scene it took me a moment to remember myself.
I couldn't think of anything to say but I must have made some sort of noise because the two of them broke apart with a guilty start, and the woman spun about to face me, blushing prettily.
"Lil!" Rhiannon gasped. "You're awake!”
Chapter Eight
My first instinct was to bolt, and the nearest hiding place was the bathroom. I made it in record time before either Joe or Rhiannon had time to react. I locked the door and slumped against it with a gasp.
The first knock on the door was loud and right beside my ear. I jumped a little.
"Lil-ly," Rhiannon chided through the thick door. "Come out Lil, and we'll talk about this."
My knees gave out and I slid down to sit on the floor with an unladylike thump. I could hear the low rumble of Joe's voice, but from my side of the door I couldn't understand what he was saying to her.
Another knock sounded, a little gentler than the first. "There's coffee honey, and breakfast. Please come out." I'd never heard Rhiannon sound so pleasant and it grated on my nerves.
The bathroom floor was chilly and I rewrapped myself in the blanket I was wearing so that it covered my feet. The image of Rhi and Joe kissing was emblazoned on the back of my brain and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow wrong, that everything was wrong. It seemed like everything in my life had gone haywire in little less than a week. Half of me wanted to go back five days, back to Friday night with the girls, and refuse their idea of going up to the bar to talk to the handsome stranger. If I hadn't done that none of the rest of this would have happened
The other half of me though seemed to know better. It was the half that wouldn't let me forget about the startling green of Adam's eyes, or the way his kisses made the hair stand up on the back of my neck, or just how nice it had been to go home to the farm for dinner, or even how passionate a kiss I'd interrupted between Joe and Rhiannon; I hadn't expected that of my big brother. I seriously doubt he ever kissed Charlene McMillan like that.
My sigh was loud and echoed in the empty, cold bathroom. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the low murmur of voices from the kitchen. Rhi must have moved away from the door because only the deep timbre of Joe's voice penetrated into the bathroom, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. It didn't seem long before I heard the front door open and close.
I quickly tiptoed to the window that looked down over the driveway. Rhiannon's car was parked there, behind mine; I hadn't noticed it the night before in the dark. Joe opened the car door for her, and hungrily watched her fold her long legs inside the car before he leaned down to give her a lingering kiss. From my vantage point I could see the contented smiles on both their faces and jealousy stabbed through me painfully. Just why the hell did life seem to be so simple for them?
Joe stood there in his boxers and t-shirt and watched Rhi pull away. He gave a long whistle of satisfaction before rounding the corner of the building to come back upstairs. I could hear him taking the stairs two at a time and his good mood must have evaporated with the climb because he banged aggressively on the bathroom door.
"Get the hell out of there, Lilly. Now."
I wrapped myself up tighter in the afghan and tested out an expression of hurt and betrayal on my reflection in the mirror over the sink. It took a few tries before I found the right combination.
"I'm telling you Lilly - open the damn door or I'll break it down. We need to talk."
I reached for the doorknob at about the same time as Joe began knocking again and when I jerked open the door I think I caught him by surprise. He pasted on a scowl and pointed at one of the chairs at my kitchen table. "Sit."
I moved past him as gracefully as possible while wrapped in miles of blanket and settled myself with my chin held high. To be honest I wasn't really sure what it was I felt about Joe and Rhiannon. The whole thing was just too surreal. Was I mad? Upset? Betrayed? Both of them were adults and both meant a great deal to me. I should be happy for them, shouldn't I?
They'd known each other distantly through me for almost a decade. Back in university, I'd brought Rhiannon home to the farm for holidays and long weekends when she couldn't make it home to her Dad's in Halifax and didn't want to be left in the dorm alone. After he passed away a few years ago, she still attended the occasional Tanner family function since even Rhi wouldn't willingly choose to spend Christmas alone. I suppose if she bumped into Joe in the grocery store or at the bank they'd exchange a few pleasantries like acquaintances should, but I never would have guessed that something like this could exist between them. As far as I knew, man-hungry Rhiannon had never looked at Joe twice. Maybe she'd slept with every other available man on the Island and was simply going to sleep with all my brothers in chronological order before she started in on the married men and the clergy.
Joe brought the coffee pot, the sugar bowl, the cream, and two mugs to the table and poured us each a cup of coffee before he sat himself across from me.
"Drink it," he muttered. "If you've got half the h
eadache I do this morning, you'll be thankful for it. I don't know what they put in that rye at Mac's, but it's deadly."
I tried not to smile. I was feeling a bit hung-over, but would never admit it. The coffee did smell incredibly good though, so I fixed it with plenty of sugar and a dollop of cream and settled back to hear what Joe had to say for himself.
He must have known I was waiting for an explanation because he quickly morphed from angry to sheepish, to almost contrite.
"I guess Rhi was driving by last night and saw all the lights on in the apartment, so she decided to stop. She'd already tried to call a few times, but of course I wasn't going to answer your phone."
My big brother fiddled with his mug of coffee, rolling it back and forth between his large hands. I watched him and kept quiet.
Just His Type (Part One) Page 11