Adam's Thorn

by Angela Verdenius

  Well, didn’t that just make her feel all warm and fuzzy? “Just for that, I’m going to suck you dry tonight.”

  Adam went so still, his pupils dilating, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Christ, Barbie.”

  Giving him a cheeky wink, she bounced back up the steps. “See you tonight, baby.”

  She half expected him to come after her, his big hands actually twitched, but then after casting her one long, hot look, he swung on his heel and strode across the grass to the car. After waving them off, she went inside, turning to shut the door securely behind her when she spotted a van slowly going past the driveway. As she watched, the man inside leaned forward and she recognised his face.

  Shane, one of the painters. Frowning, he looked at the house before suddenly accelerating and driving off. Wondering if he had been about to call in and inquire about work tomorrow, Barbie shrugged. Shane was an unknown quantity, a man she still didn’t know that well in comparison to Bruce and Henry. He kept to himself, didn’t say much, and certainly didn’t approve of her plans for the house.

  That was his problem.

  Spencer was talking to Matt at the base of the staircase. At the sound of her approaching, Spencer said worriedly, “I really need to see those dolls and the damaged furniture. Oh, I can’t believe this has happened. The value of those things are beyond repair.” He actually wrung his hands. “Oh dear, Patrick will not be pleased.”

  “Patrick will be fine,” Barbie assured him. “He hasn’t paid for anything yet, so his main worry will be only what he does pay for.”

  “Of course, but still…” He started up the stairs.

  When he saw the broken dolls in the box, she thought he was going to cry. Sinking down onto his knees, he plunged his hands in the box and picked up broken pieces. “Oh no. Oh dear. Oh, this is just terrible!” Putting down the dolls, he looked around anxiously. “Did any remain unbroken? Are - oh, thank goodness!” Spotting four dolls still intact on the self, he jumped up, hurrying across the room to pick them up one by one.

  Looking them over, relief was plain on his face. “Oh my. These are so old and in such good condition, they are worth so much. It’s a sacrilege! A sacrilege, I tell you.” Tenderly, he placed the dolls back on the shelf. “I shall have to start packing these up soon before any more damage is done.”

  Personally, Barbie couldn’t get rid of the dolls soon enough. They totally creeped her out, and the memory of them sitting in a line on the floor staring at her… Repressing a shudder, she looked uneasily at them. Freaky things.

  “Books,” Spencer said. “You mentioned some of the books were damaged. Are any of them still intact?”

  “Of course.” Gratefully shutting the girl’s bedroom door, Barbie led him into the library. “Those with torn pages I’ve put in a small stack in that box near the desk, the rest I’ve put back in the library.”

  Before she’d finished speaking, Spencer was thumbing carefully through the books in the box, exclaiming miserably over the damaged books. “Dreadful, dreadful business.” He glanced around the room. “Everything else seems okay.”

  “It was mainly one of the chairs in the hallway that was smashed against a wall, the legs broken off and the backrest broken. That’s outside near the back shed for the tip.”

  “The tip?” Horrified, Spencer’s eyes grew round. “Oh, my, that could possibly be salvaged, mended, resold.”

  Remembering how broken it had been, Barbie shook her head. “I doubt it.”

  Almost fretfully, Spencer took the notepad from his pocket and started making notes in it, crossing out some things before going to the back and starting a maths sum of some kind.

  Not being near enough, Barbie was pretty sure he was deducting the price of the broken items.

  “Dear, dear, dear.” Spencer blinked. “Okay. Well, I’ll check around, get a listing of the last few things before I talk to Patrick.”

  Barbie left him to it, beating a retreat down to the kitchen where she busied herself collecting all the old pots and pans, placing them in big boxes for donation to the Peeron Disaster Relief shop which was coming the next day to collect everything boxed so far. The big sideboard held a collection of old plates which she knew Spencer wanted, so she left them there for him to pack when ready.

  Now that she wasn’t staying in the house, there was no need to keep the kitchen in working order. Only keeping the bare essentials in there to make drinks, she boxed up everything else.

  With almost every cupboard bare, the kitchen had an empty atmosphere about it.

  Grimacing, Barbie walked to the back door and out onto the veranda, stretching and looking around.

  It was then that she noticed that one of the rose bushes had been disturbed. Frowning, she stepped off the veranda and approached it. Several branches had been broken, and the dirt around the base was disturbed.

  Shit. A chill crept down her spine. Was something trying to get out?

  Chapter 11

  She screamed when a hand touched her shoulder.

  “Whoa! Barbie, it’s me, Ghost.”

  Hand to her pounding heart, she glared at him. “You arse! You scared the living crap out of me!”

  “Sorry.” He patted her shoulder in concern. “Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?”

  Before she could answer, Matt came bursting through the back door. “Barbie!”

  “It’s okay.” She weakly flapped a hand at Ghost. “I got a fright. Sorry.”

  Matt looked Ghost up and down. “Understandable.”

  Ghost flipped him the bird.

  Lori stepped out on the veranda, her gaze darting quickly around before settling on her sister who was standing near the veranda holding a big bag. “Hi.”

  Talk about understatements.

  “We came to set up the cameras,” Ghost explained.

  “You’ll have to wait a few minutes,” Barbie told him. “Spencer is still here.”

  “Who’s Spencer?”

  “From the antique dealer in the city.”

  “Ah.” He nodded.

  “Hello?” A voice quavered from above.

  Looking up, they spotted Spencer’s head sticking out of the upstairs window.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “Fine,” Barbie replied. “Juts an overreaction on my part.”

  “Oh. Okay.” The window clicked shut.

  “Nice to see that he came down here to check personally,” Ghost remarked.

  By the time they entered the kitchen, Spencer was coming down the staircase. In one hand he held the notepad, in the other the pen, making Barbie admire the way he could walk and write all at the same time.

  Mumbling to himself, he came to a stop where she stood in the doorway of the kitchen and looked up. “Okay, I’ve pretty much gotten everything now. A few last phone calls, a last bit of research, and we should have this finished in a couple of days.”

  “Great.” Barbie looked around the dark hallway. Personally, she was starting to look forward to when this was all finished, everything packed and the painters and carpenters having free range to do their work.

  She’d only have to come to do the massages and inspect the work as it progressed, then it was back to the city.

  Back to the city. Back to start her own business.

  No Adam.

  The thought hit her suddenly, causing her breath to catch. No Adam.

  Standing in the hallway, she took a deep, calming breath. Okay, this is going too far, too fast. There’ve been no promises. Don’t panic. One step at a time, one hurdle at a time. Nothing is finished yet, it will still take some time. Just relax and stop over thinking things.

  “Barbie?” Ali queried from behind her.

  Straightening her shoulders, Barbie smiled pleasantly as she turned to face her. “Yep?”

  “Everything all right?”

  “Sure. Now, where are you going to set up these cameras?”

  Ali’s eyes took on an eager glow. “Ghost has the plans in his
pocket. We’ll set up the cameras, show you where they all are when we’re done, and then we’ll lock the house down.”

  Ghost smiled easily, slouching off while pulling the badly drawn plan of the house from his pocket. Scooping up one of the bags, he headed for the staircase.

  Following, Ali slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

  “Will he stay the night?” Barbie queried. “I don’t think Adam will allow it.”

  “Adam won’t,” Matt replied. “If he really thought it was a ghost, he’d let Ghost have free rein, but he’s convinced the intruder is human.”

  “Do you think it’s human to try to dig your way out of a grave?”

  Startled, he looked at her. “Say what?”

  “Look.” Crooking her finger at him and Lori, Barbie led them out to the rose bushes and pointed to the disturbed earth.

  “Okay.” Matt toed the dirt. “That’s a little freaky, but there could be an explanation.”

  “Such as?”

  “You had cops here searching,” Lori answered. “The dirt disturbed by their big boots, branches broken.”

  “Big, clumsy cops?”

  “You sound a little sardonic.”

  “I’m sorry. Maybe that’s because there are no boot prints around the dirt?”

  Lori just smiled.

  Ghost was more excited. He set up a camera in the shelter of the old shed pointing directly at the graves.

  If Barbie thought the camera setting process would be quick, she found out how mistaken she was, mainly because Ghost spent a lot of time scoping out rooms for the best positions.

  Ali was his eager assistant, giving her opinion and helping set up the equipment.

  Looking at the cameras, both video recorders and film, Barbie raised a brow. “Where are the heat detectors? The box that whines when a ghost comes in sight? Things like that?”

  “I don’t do that stuff.” Ghost closed the door to the boy’s room. “Spoils the atmosphere.”

  “I thought true ghost hunters had all this paraphernalia?”

  “Simple is best,” he replied.

  “And Ghost is simple,” Ali remarked, only to realise how that sounded when he looked at her. “Oops.”

  He made a grab for her. “Come here!”

  Ali shrieked and dodged, but Ghost moved faster, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her noisily and with great enthusiasm. Giggling, she struggled, but not for long. By the time he released her, she was clinging to him with a decidedly dreamy expression on her pretty face.

  Laughing, Barbie left them to set up the remainder of the cameras. Downstairs, she found Matt and Lori sitting on the front veranda chatting softly, so she left them and wandered out the back again to study the roses.

  A sudden memory of something white under one of the rose bushes jogged her thoughts, and she knelt down to look around them. She found nothing except a partially dug hole where she was sure she’d seen something white several weeks before. Paper, maybe? Blown away by the wind? But why the hole?

  Creepier and creepier. Sitting back on her knees, she studied the rose bushes before realising that she was kneeling on someone’s grave. Possibly. Or maybe it was the empty grave or the mystery one. Whichever, it gave her a case of the heebie-jeebies and she stood up, backing away abruptly. “Ugh!” Brushing the dirt from her knees, she muttered, “Why, Aunt Penny? Just why?”

  Dusk was starting to fall by the time she locked the house and left with the others. Hopefully, the camera recordings would reveal something in the morning.

  ~*~

  The cameras had been in residence for several days but nothing showed except for empty hours of film.

  “Things don’t always reveal themselves immediately,” Ghost said with the patience of a saint. “We just have to keep trying.”

  Adam was still convinced it had been an intruder of the human variety, but to give the man credit, he didn’t ridicule his friend. Or, if he did, he didn’t do it in front of anyone else, including Barbie.

  Lying cuddled in his arms, her body still pleasantly humming from the energetic and totally mind blowing sex session they’d just had, Barbie listened to his even breathing behind her as he slept. Every warm puff of air stirred the hair atop her head, his muscled chest moving rhythmically against her back. His long legs were tucked behind her much shorter ones, one brawny arm across her waist.

  Lying there in his bed with the sound of the nightlife outside the open window, the cats curled up on the end of the bed, she couldn’t remember a time she’d ever felt so content.

  She could live in Peeron, she thought. In the weeks she’d been here, she’d come to know the locals, enjoyed the waves and pleasantries they exchanged, the good humour, the different personalities. The small town life where everyone knew everyone. The friendly intimacy. She’d made friends even though she hadn’t set out to do so in the beginning. Good friends.

  And then there’s Adam.

  Sliding her arm down, she rested her hand on top of his. The warmth of his skin penetrated her cool palm and she lightly traced over the back of his hand, feeling the strength, the broadness, the long, capable fingers.

  So much like Adam. As a man, he wasn’t complex. Honest, forthright, he kept his thoughts to himself, valued loyalty, stood up for what was right, and was a good friend. He liked her cats, didn’t boot them off the bed, even let them sleep behind his knees without complaining. As a lover he was off the planet. Caring, strong, protective, with the lovemaking skills of a well-trained gigolo.

  Giggling to herself, Barbie wrinkled her nose. Okay, that last was a little disrespectful, but it was undeniable that Adam had a touch that made her burn. She’d had a couple of lovers in her time, but none equalled Adam No man had had her writhing in mindless ecstasy before Adam, no man but Adam had made her hunger for him. With him, she never felt self conscious, especially when she saw the appreciative glow in his eyes when he looked at her, both naked and clothed. She craved his touch like a thirsty man craved water in a drought. She could never get enough of him. Even just sitting quietly with him watching TV, or reading, or sharing the cooking, she was so content.

  So very content and happy.

  One look from his eyes had her heart picking up pace, one touch had heat sweeping through her, and when he wrapped her in his arms, she felt delicate and protected all at once. When he made love to her, she felt like the most beautiful, erotic woman on earth.

  Several things she had discovered about Adam that she shared was his dry sense of humour and his love for being home. Though she’d never told him, she liked her privacy, liked her home to be her sanctuary, which was one reason why she’d planned to open a business in the city away from her duplex. She could have saved money by doing massages at her home, but she didn’t want to bring her work into her home space.

  But going back to the city… Barbie stared into the darkness. Going back meant leaving Peeron, leaving her new friends, leaving a life she was enjoying. A slow, easy life. It had its responsibilities, its ups and downs just like any life did, but the quietness of the little country town eased her soul, gave her a sense of peace, of belonging.

  But mostly it was Adam. Nestled back against him, the sensation of him still inside her, his strength surrounding her, his scent in her nose and his taste in her mouth, she knew one thing for certain. She couldn’t leave Adam. She didn’t want to leave the town, could choose to stay here or not, but leaving Adam was something that tore her a little inside and had her bleeding internal tears.

  When had she fallen in love with Adam Moor?

  The knowledge had been seeping in slowly but surely the last few days, but it had really hit her when she’d seen how far along the painters had come on the outside of the house, the boards stripped and freshly painted, the repairs done by the carpenters.

  Now it was just a matter of the furniture, household goods, paintings, books, toys, clothes, and other things deemed valuable by the antique dealer, being paid for and taken, and the painters w
ould have a clear run of the house. Once they had a clear run, it wouldn’t take long for it to be finished.

  And then sold. And then…

  And then she’d realised it would be finished, the house would sell, and she couldn’t bring herself to leave Adam because she’d fallen in love with him.

  So now what? She nibbled on her bottom lip. Technically she was living with him, but he’d never mentioned her staying indefinitely. It had been only until the big, old house was finished, or so she’d surmised under the circumstances.

  What would he say if she suggested staying? What did he feel? What did he want?

  Maybe she should just ask him. Hey, Adam, how about I just stay here permanently because I, you know, love you? She groaned silently. What if he had a heart attack? What if he looked horrified? What if he had a stroke just thinking about it?

  But no, that wasn’t Adam Moor. He’d just look at her and - what? What? Say ‘yes’? ‘Hell yes?’ ‘Hell no?’ ‘Sorry, but…’ ‘This has been nice but…’

  “But but but,” she muttered.

  “Barbie?” He stirred behind her, his breath shifting on her head. “Baby?”

  God, he could say ‘baby’ in his husky tone and all her lady-parts went on high alert.

  Patting his hand, she whispered, “It’s okay. Go to sleep.”

  “You all right?” He nuzzled her hair, drew her closer against his body.

  “Mmmm. Fine.”

  “Something bothering you?”

  Yep, but he sounded so drowsy, so sleepy. So concerned for her even when tiredness flowed through his deep voice. “Nothing, baby. Go back to sleep.”

  He cuddled down behind her, buried his face in the nape of her neck and went right back to sleep.

  With a mental sigh, Barbie continued gazing into the darkness until sleep took her as well.

  ~*~

  Spencer came and went several times at the old house the next day, checking things, photographing, disappearing upstairs and coming back down frowning.

  Henry whistled while he worked on the outside of the house, the last slap of paint put on the house. The carpenters were working on the shed, taking it down and putting up a new one.