by Suzanne Ruby
At that point, any and all beers Adam had consumed would be redeposited on top of the bar.
He was halfway curious to find out what new crime he’d committed, because he was always the last to know. The other half wanted to down as much beer as he could, and keep it down.
“Hey, change the station,” Adam called out to Joe.
“No can do. The owner says it needs to stay put on this one.”
“I’ll pay you,” Adam said.
For a split second, Adam’s world began to literally spin. Then he realized Fabian was spinning his bar stool around to where he wouldn’t be facing the screen.
“Thanks,” Adam said as he finished off longneck number two. The icy cold liquid felt good on his throat.
“No fucking way,” Fabian said.
Adam swirled back around.
Kirby, of all people, live on location. Was that his shirt she was wearing? Sure as hell looked like it.
All the anger and regret and confusion rose from his stomach to his throat. He gulped back the urgent need to hurl, while the other guys hollered and booed.
Gentleman John threw some trail mix at the screen, and the guys burst out laughing when it hit the bull’s-eye. Right in the forehead.
All you need is one good throw...
Adam hoisted himself onto the bar and cranked up the volume.
“Hey, Ride, you’re blocking the view,” Cowboy Roy called out.
Being that close to Kirby’s gorgeous, lying, wounded face wasn’t a place he needed to be anyway, so he stepped aside.
“...standing here in front of Deep in the Heart where, yesterday afternoon, Seth Wainwright aired lies with regard to the inner-sanctum establishment called The Deep. I know, because I’m the one who investigated. At no time did money change hands between Adam Drake and myself. And I possess no proof that money was exchanged between any of the other clients and employees for sex-related services.
“Since I will likely be fired on the spot, please check my blog, where I will be writing a series of reports on my own investigation into an even more important story—the wrongful accusations of theft against Mr. Drake by his former employer, Becker Farms. As far as the previous accusations for sexual misconduct, I’ve spoken with the accuser, who has recanted her version of events, and I’ve linked the theft of the Hermès saddles to that same accuser. Over the next several months, I’ll be working directly with the HPD and various media outlets. Again, please check my blog. And Adam, if you’re watching, I—”
The screen went dark. Moments later, a commercial aired, followed by a disclaimer by the news director.
The whole bar exploded with hoots and hollers of a different kind this time. But it paled in comparison to what Adam felt at the moment.
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He hoped to find a text from Kirby, finishing what she was about to say because even though he was confused and grateful and maybe still a little mad, he was ready to hear the end of that last sentence.
Turned out, only one text had come through. And it wasn’t from her.
If he hadn’t been in a bar full of testosterone, he probably would have fucking cried. His dream job in Florida was being offered up on a digital platter. The text simply read, Welcome aboard, Mr. Drake. How soon can you start?
His thoughts flitted to so many places before finding their way back home, and his heart must have skipped multiple beats before deciding what it wanted. Really wanted.
Start. He definitely wanted to start right away. As in, start a new chapter in his life. One where he didn’t have to hide, didn’t have to feel unwanted and unloved and ashamed. One where the truth eventually prevailed, and where people forfeited their own dreams to reveal it. Yes, he wanted that more than anything.
Furthermore, he knew exactly where to find it.
16
KIRBY FUMBLED WITH the keys to her loft as her cell phone alerted her to another text, another voice mail, another email.
Bettencourt had left one voice mail. Seth had left none. No doubt the weasel was hacking into her computer backup records, trying to come up with a way to discredit her.
Reese sent one text. It read: OMG. That was awesome!!!
Nothing from Adam. Not that she expected anything. Hopefully, she did more good than harm.
This whole thing had taken such a toll on her. She’d only now stopped to allow Adam’s last words to sink in.
No wonder your husband didn’t want you.
Yet, she’d learned to read Adam. She’d watched his expression when he’d said those words. He didn’t mean them.
Or maybe she simply didn’t want to believe he meant them.
Oh, well. She had lived without true love and passion for a long time. She’d survive without it again.
Finally, she got the key in the damn lock.
Baby greeted her with unbridled enthusiasm, then waited by the door long after she closed it.
Even Baby wants to leave me.
She quickly reined in the thought. She knew what the puppy wanted. Make that, whom she wanted.
“Don’t hold your breath, Baby. He’s not coming back.”
She dropped the weighed-down purse on the floor. It didn’t contain any souvenirs from the station. Only the photo she had kept on her desk of Lady, enshrined in a crystal frame.
Lady waited patiently by her bowl as Kirby positioned the picture on the bookshelf, filling the space left by the Christmas party photo, which was still facedown on the counter.
She went to the kitchen, yanked the troublemaker from its frame, held it over the sink and lit a match.
Burned edges. She still loved ’em.
Hopefully, the smoke wouldn’t set off the alarm. Last thing she needed tonight was more drama.
Baby’s needs suddenly became immediate. She had remained by the front door and was now barking, which meant she needed to go outside and take care of some business. Judging by the volume and frequency of Baby’s barks, the business could be huge.
Kirby offered Lady a treat to tide her over, then quickly leashed Baby and opened the door. But her path was blocked.
Baby transformed from impatient to deliriously happy.
Kirby’s reaction was a bit more reserved. She couldn’t read anything in Adam’s eyes.
“I’m here for Baby,” he said. “You promised.”
Yes. She had promised.
Either he hadn’t seen the broadcast, or it hadn’t made a difference.
She handed over the leash, and it felt as if she’d lost part of herself. At least she knew Baby would have a good home. A great home, actually, with lots of square footage, both indoor and outdoor. Or maybe she’d end up being a beach baby in Florida.
She dared to look at Adam one more time.
“Wait there for a minute, if you don’t mind,” she said. “I’ll put her toys in a sack. They mean a lot to her.”
She headed to the area rug, where a few of Baby’s toys were scattered, but the door shut behind her. Although it wasn’t loud, it still knocked the breath out of her with its implication. He left.
She whipped around, only to find he had come inside instead.
After placing the toys in a paper grocery sack, she surrendered it, along with any hope of reconciliation.
“What was it you wanted to say?” he asked.
She inventoried her thoughts. What hadn’t she already said, or tried to say at the club last night? But the music had been too loud. And he’d been unwilling to hear.
He seemed ready to hear now, but the news story had depleted her. She didn’t have the energy to repeat it, only to be called a liar again.
She, quite simply, had no fight left within her.
“I’ve said everything I need to say. I guess you didn’t hear
it.”
“I didn’t hear it because the broadcast cut to commercial.”
He moved closer. So close she could smell the barley and hops on his breath, along with a hint of Dentyne. So close she could feel his body heat, even from beneath his tight black T-shirt.
So close she could practically hear his heart beating as fast as hers. Now, she understood the question completely.
“I—I don’t remember.”
She couldn’t look him in the eye. Couldn’t say directly to him what she was so eager to admit in front of four million people.
“Say it, Kirby. If it’s what I think it is, I promise to say it back.”
She looked at his eyes now. They had softened to the baby blue she loved.
“I said, ‘Adam, if you’re listening, I really did love you.’ And I still do.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she willed the floodgates to hold them in.
Instead of saying a word, he turned around and opened the door with Baby in tow.
“Oh. I see,” she said. “You’re leaving now. Without saying it back. I know I deserve it. I had just hoped—”
“I’m taking Baby outside. I can tell she needs to go real bad. I’ll be right back for the other baby I came here to claim. And to tell her I love her, too. I never stopped.”
He winked, and then disappeared down the hall. The clap of his boots kept up with the scramble of the tiny paws that led the way while Kirby stood perfectly still. As if it would all disappear if she dared to breathe.
* * *
A STREAM OF morning light roused Adam from his sleep like a warm, loving touch.
Kirby was still asleep beside him. One of those crazy horseshoe earrings of hers had survived the night. The other one rested on the pillow next to her silky brown hair.
He plucked the stray earring from the pillow and contemplated its power. Maybe these things really did work.
Kirby’s soft snore sounded like a purr now. Only, on closer inspection, the purr had to be coming from her beautiful black cat, who was curled up on the opposite side of Kirby.
Damn if he didn’t want to nudge Kirby awake and make her purr, as well.
Maybe in a minute. They’d exhausted apologies and explanations, and he felt pretty sure he had convinced her that he didn’t mean to say what he had said at the club. Although he’d gladly keep reminding her how much he wanted her. Always did. Always would.
They’d bathed each other in compliments and I-love-yous. They’d kissed each other to sleep. Their tongues had danced, taking turns leading. Their bodies had remained simply yet erotically entwined beneath the soft comforter, braided together like the strongest velvet rope as he focused exclusively on the softness of her mouth. In many ways, it was the best sex he’d ever had.
He quietly chuckled. He must really have it bad for her if cuddling and kissing alone did it for him.
He walked into the kitchen area and retrieved his cell phone. The tremendous backlog of texts and voice mails winked back, as if they knew he’d been busy and would patiently wait for his return.
Most of the texts were from Fabian, but his attorney had authored a few. Lydia had left one, as well. He’d also received several hang-ups and two voice messages. No way he’d ever forget either number, but one of them he’d love to forget altogether. Becker Farms.
No doubt they’d seen the broadcast. If they hadn’t, he’d gladly burn it to DVD and overnight a copy to them. After all, burning things was what he did best.
Even if they begged him to come back, he’d have to think long and hard about it. Not that that would happen, but he’d love the opportunity to turn them down.
He smiled when he thought of what Kirby had ultimately sacrificed, and how they were both out of a job.
We might have to move in together, he concluded. Save money. Live off love.
Maybe being unemployed for a little longer wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Lydia’s text offered Adam a chance to come back and work at the proper club, Deep in the Heart, maybe as a bartender or front-door man.
This one was easy. He punched in Thanks, but no thanks. Best of luck to you and the guys, and sent it without pause or regret. He liked Lydia, but he liked Kirby a whole lot more.
Loved.
He played the voice message from Henry next. “I saw the person I assume to be your girlfriend on television. She’s a beauty. Seems like a good person, when it counts the most. I vote we hang around H-town a little longer. Just sayin’.”
Yes, Henry was just sayin’ that maybe his own wish was about to come true.
Marriage wasn’t something Adam had considered, but he definitely wasn’t ruling it out. He could picture telling a G-rated version of this story to his kids, and his own grandkids.
Our own grandkids.
He shook his head at the bold and much-too-forward thought. He really needed to find a way to support himself first, before he started making babies.
Which reminded him, he owed Wild Indigo a response. He typed, I apologize, but I have to decline. I’ve been presented with an opportunity in Houston that I simply can’t turn down. Thank you, again, for considering me for such a prestigious position.
As soon as he pressed Send, he considered how he could have perhaps taken the job and asked Kirby to go with him. They could have escaped their mutual pasts together. Yet, confronting his past seemed like a better idea, and he was ready to help Kirby in any way he could.
He turned his phone off completely and walked back into the bedroom, only to find Kirby gone. He called her name and looked around her loft. All six hundred or so square feet of it.
“Kirby? Where are you hiding?” he called out.
“I’m right here. Behind you,” she said. “One-hundred percent.”
Before he could turn, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed fully against his bare back.
She ran her fingertip up his arm and around the edges of his tattoo, then seemed to trace the letters that had been inked over. He’d all but forgotten about the thing. Mainly about how it didn’t bother him the least bit anymore, except he never told Kirby the story behind it.
“I should get that removed,” he said.
“Don’t you dare. It’s perfect the way it is. In fact, I was thinking of getting one, as well. Except mine would say ‘Easy Ride.’”
“Don’t know the person. It’s definitely not me. Not anymore.”
“Then I guess it will stand for the hot guy who brought us together.”
He turned around.
There she stood. Dressed in his white unbuttoned shirt and nothing else. His cock twitched as he parted the halves and took in her exquisite form.
“I don’t want any ink touching that flawless body of yours.”
“Hmm. Well, my body is craving to be touched. What are my options?”
His grin spread. Options? Yeah, he had plenty of those. And plenty of time to fulfill them.
Kirby led him back to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed.
He started to kneel. Damn if he wasn’t starving at the sight of her.
“Stand,” she said. “You promised me something.”
“I told you I love you, but if you insist on hearing it again, I love you. Now, will you please let me show it?”
“Not that promise. The other one.”
He racked his freakin’ brain. They’d pretty much exhausted all topics, revealed all the secrets.
“I give up,” he finally said.
But then that gorgeous, drop-dead smile crossed her face. And he remembered.
* * *
IN ONE NIGHT, everything wrong about Kirby’s life had been made right.
She could taste him in her mouth, and smell him on her skin. She could still feel his hardness pressing int
o her soft palate, and his silky texture against her lips.
“Did you...?” he began, but stopped.
Did she ever. Even thinking about it caused a serious contraction deep within. Instead of answering, she took his hand and pressed it between her legs. Her body couldn’t lie.
His grin confirmed that he understood what she wasn’t saying.
“I know this will sound strange,” he said. “But I can’t wait to tell Henry about this.”
“That I gave you a blow job? Or that I came while giving it to you?”
He laughed a deep, hearty laugh. “No. I’m going to tell him I met a nice girl who’s naughty in all the right ways. And that we’ll probably be panhandling soon, so if he drives by, please toss us some coins.”
It was her turn to laugh, because the only other option was to cry. And crying was something she’d definitely pass on.
“I have a feeling things will eventually go our way,” she said.
“I don’t know how you know these things, but somehow you do.”
“I have a secret weapon.”
“I think we should agree to have no more secret anythings.”
“You’re right. So I’ll officially surrender mine. I can read the inflections in your voice, and I can tell whether you’re telling the truth.”
“I’m not scared. I don’t plan to lie to you or keep anything from you. Ever again. Which means I better fess up about the tattoo on my bicep.”
“No need. I know it covers the name of your ex. And I do believe that tattoo was your downfall.”
He had to smile. “Of course you know. But why do you think it was my downfall? Besides the obvious. I fell for the wrong girl.”
“Because an even worse girl got jealous over your ink, and made up adult lies to tell about you.”
“Is that what Madison said?”
Kirby nodded. “Oops. I do have one more confession. Not really a confession. But I did withhold some information.”
Judging by his heavy sigh, perhaps she shouldn’t have waited.