A Risk Worth Taking

by Zana Bell

  “Oh, jeez.” Adam turned away. “Women.”

  Anger washed over her. How many times did she have to justify her decision to her family, to Adam? To herself. She grabbed him by the arm. “Oh, no, you don’t. You don’t get to dismiss my feelings like that. You brought me out here. You wanted to know.” She jabbed him in the chest with her forefinger. “You’ll bloody stay to listen. You think I didn’t anguish about it for months, wondering what on earth was wrong with me? I didn’t stop our wedding on a whim. I stopped it because I was overwhelmed by the heart-wrenching panic that I was doing the wrong thing. Can’t you understand? Haven’t you ever thought something was crazy but you did it anyway, even though it defied all rational explanation?”

  He stood absolutely still for a second, silhouetted against the harbor waters. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

  “Yeah,” he said, in a voice broken and husky. “Oh, yeah, I know all about that feeling, and the hell with it!”

  He seized her by both arms and crushed his mouth to hers. There was no tenderness, no soft teasing—just need and demand. The suddenness took her by surprise, but Cressa wasn’t going to argue, and she opened her mouth in response. He gave a small half laugh, half groan and released her arms to pull her hard against him. She wrapped herself into his embrace and they sank into a kiss that deepened and lengthened till the stars spun and blurred in the sky above them.

  Then he eased back. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment we met.”

  She chuckled. “You may not have noticed, but I’ve been wanting it, too.”

  He laughed softly and leaned his forehead against hers. “You’ve been an awful distraction, Cressa Curtis. Being so close to you day in, day out, has near killed me. These past few days have been a special kind of torture.”

  “For me, too.” She felt light and happy and very lustful as she ran a hand up under his sweater and T-shirt to find the warm flesh of his stomach. He shivered.

  “Cold hands?”

  “No.”

  Her palms strayed up his chest, tracing the muscled lines of rib, feeling the thin trail of hairs. Her fingers reached his nipples just as his head dipped to find her mouth again. Then his hands, large and warm, were under her sweater, caressing chilled flesh till her need ran fiery and she gave a small moan.

  “It’s too cold out here.” Adam’s voice was hoarse in her ear. “I’ve waited so long I’m going to enjoy you properly.” He grabbed her hand and ran her up to the house. Something in her broke free as he yanked her into Jake’s bedroom and tried to unzip her jacket. The zipper caught, Adam swore and she laughed as her fingers wrestled with his to free it. And that’s how they undressed, hindering each other as they struggled to help, stripping awkwardly, hopping with boots and socks, her turtleneck getting caught up with her hair so that he had to tug the top off as though she were a child. And all the time they laughed and kissed, and copped feels that only heightened their desire and their clumsiness. Finally, they tumbled into cold sheets, a tangle of limbs and lips, needs and desires.

  As Adam began his exploration of her body with mouth and hands, she felt heat, like a lit fuse, streak through her blood, inflaming her senses. He was the oxygen to her fire and she needed him inside her. He entered her, and in a blinding white flash point, they climaxed.

  They fell back, panting, slick with sweat. For a second they lay there. Cressa, dazed with the intensity, felt maybe she should say something funny to lighten things. She began to speak, but Adam rolled over and placed a finger to her lips as he began to explore her body again.

  He took his time, starting with the palms of her hands. She’d never known how many exquisite nerve endings were there. He made her moan when he licked the inside of her elbow, nuzzled the soft skin behind her ear. Tongue and mouth sought all the delicate trigger points while his hands slowly traced her contours.

  Turning to him, she began her own exploration. She traced the scar up his back, the bands of muscle across his belly, the long line of his throat.

  She inhaled deeply. It was all pheromones, of course, but somehow he seemed to smell of vast skies and wide prairies.

  Time dissolved as they discovered the intimate triggers of pleasure and excitement. With needs building, breath quickening, Adam slipped inside. He thrust deep, then with almost unbearably slow strokes he controlled her urgency until they were moving together in a rhythm that built inexorably, swifter and swifter, to a shattering conclusion.

  Spent, Cressa snuggled into him. “I told you we’d be fantastic,” she murmured, and fell asleep almost immediately.

  ADAM LAY ON HIS BACK with one arm around Cressa, the other tucked behind his head. All his desires and needs were for the moment satiated, and their lovemaking—sex—had been amazing. But now he closed his eyes, listening to her rhythmic breathing. Her compact body, strong and curvy, warmed him down one side. He felt cold down the other.

  Haven’t you ever thought something was crazy, but you did it anyway, even though it defied all rational explanation?

  Oh, God, yes.

  Just when he was reaching for his own almost unobtainable goal, he’d allowed base instincts to pull him out of the game. Was she his way of sabotaging himself? The excuse he needed to let himself off the hook?

  He glanced down. Her hair spread like a blanket, covering them both. Her small, competent hand lay curled on his chest. Their lovemaking had been even more incredible than his wildest dreams. What harm could there be in just letting rip these last few days?

  Except he wanted more. He hadn’t told her that. He knew any hint of commitment and she’d be off. Couldn’t he just play it her way? The here and now—that was all that was on offer. Which was a crying shame. She was playing in the shallows, when a whole ocean stretched in front of her. Courage came in different shapes and forms. He wondered when she’d realize this.

  The thing was, when Cressa finally decided to risk commitment to a man, to a job—to life—she’d be unstoppable. Given her brains, her drive, her personality, she’d be the most amazing woman.

  Pity he wouldn’t be around to see it.

  With a sigh, he tightened his arm around her and couldn’t help a smile. Tonight had been extraordinary. Damned if he was going to regret it! He thought back to the tennis game—the power and elegance in her serve, her determination to win. He remembered the times she’d wafted by in just a towel, the lazy, teasing come-on in her green eyes. Her leaps into the churning cauldron. Her gentleness with his mom. He hadn’t stood a chance. Hell, he ought to be awarded an endurance medal for having held out against her for so long.

  Now he was poised at the top of a roller coaster. The ride would end in a tangled wreck, of course, but for the moment it seemed almost—very nearly, in fact—worth the price he would ultimately have to pay.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ALICIA WALKED INTO THE kitchen and found Adam assembling eggs and bacon to cook.

  “Hey, Mom, pull up a chair. I’ll make breakfast for the two of us. Cressa’s gone out.”

  Alicia didn’t like big breakfasts, but she’d never turn down an invitation from Adam. “Wonderful. Where did Cressa go? I thought this was her day off.”

  There was something different about him this morning.

  “Auckland. She was very mysterious. Wouldn’t say why.”

  “Ah.” They exchanged glances.

  “I know,” Adam said wryly, “Cressa’s surprises are always a little alarming.”

  He didn’t look alarmed, however. Happiness hummed in the air like an electric current. “Adam?”

  “Yeah?”

  He had such a goofy grin that Alicia burst out laughing. “So that’s it. Well, it’s been a long time coming.”

  He cracked the eggs with a flourish worthy of a magician. “Tell me about it! But it was—great.” The bacon sizzled as he put the slices into the frying pan. “Really great.”

  For the first time his careful kindness had been overridden, and Alicia felt a wave of gratitude tow
ard Cressa. Would this be their first real conversation?

  “I’m so glad for you, for the two of you. I haven’t seen you this happy since the bicycle you got at Christmas when you were eight.”

  “That was the best Christmas ever. And this is even better than that.” He grinned and she recognized its mixture of mischief and apology. He’d always smiled like that when he and Cole had been caught misbehaving. “Oops. Probably too much information.”

  “I can cope.”

  What she wanted to do was fling her arms around him, share in his joy, but she felt prickling unease. He looked somehow naked in his happiness. Cressa had taken a blowtorch to his defenses and burned them away. It might be the best or cruelest thing she’d ever done in her heedless young life.

  So hard to know what to say next. Adam, typical male, focused on the task at hand and didn’t notice the silence. Warnings bubbled to Alicia’s lips, but she managed to bite them back. He wasn’t her baby boy any longer.

  “Here you are.” He placed two plates on the table and drew up a chair.

  The bacon was fried to a crisp and the eggs a bit runny. Really, she needed to teach the boy to cook.

  “That’s wonderful, thank you.”

  He tucked in with a hearty appetite.

  “So,” she said, keeping her tone light, “does this change plans?”

  “You know,” he said, “I have no idea. I’ve still got to go back to the States—I’ve got commitments.” He was just a touch too casual as he added, “I’m wondering about inviting Cressa to visit for a bit.”

  No advice, Alicia reminded herself. “Will she go?”

  He stopped eating and gazed at her. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

  “Is that a genuine question?”

  He sounded surprised. “Yeah. Of course.”

  She beamed at him. “I think this is the first time in your life that you’ve asked for my opinion.”

  “I must be growing up or growing senile. So what do you think?”

  How much should she say? “I think you could get her there. Getting her to stay, if that’s what you’re planning, is something quite different.”

  “I know. It’s just…” He looked away. Shadows had left his face this morning. Now they returned. “Just?”

  “Just that she may be the one. You know, the one I want to live the rest of my life with.”

  Oh, Adam, she wanted to say. Be careful. Guard your heart. Until Cressa confronted her past, it would always eat up the present. Surely he wouldn’t try to form a bond with another woman incapable of commitment. Adam blamed himself for the failure of his marriage, but Crystal had been a damaged young thing—probably the result of her own family. Oh, what harm parents did to their kids. Alicia had always meant well for her children, but it hadn’t been enough.

  Adam was watching her. “What do you think?”

  In the past she’d have spilled all her fears over him, believing he had to fully understand the danger he was putting himself into.

  “Truthfully?”

  “Of course.”

  She lifted her shoulders. “I think you’d be risking your heart, with the odds heavily against you.” He opened his mouth as if to argue, but she raised her hand. “However, seeing as you risk your life day after day on construction sites, I don’t see that this will stop you.”

  He appeared sucker punched. “You know? How?”

  She rose and began gathering their empty plates as she said casually, “I saw it on your Facebook page. I checked it after Cressa told me about it. You posted a photograph to show Stella what Houston looked like from up high. There was only one way you could have gotten a shot like that.”

  Adam opened the dishwasher. “Why didn’t you say anything about it?”

  He sounded aggrieved, almost accusatory. Taking the wind out of her son’s sails was quite fun. “What’s to say? It’s your life. Now, I must get going.”

  “Gardening?”

  “Yes, later. First, I’ve got some writing to do.”

  He paused and glanced up at her. “Writing?”

  “Yes, I have a blog.”

  “Blog?” he said, in much the same dazed, scandalized way he might have said, “Porn site.” Oh, it was good fun indeed to blindside him twice in as many minutes. “I had no idea you were so computer savvy.”

  How very male, she thought fondly, to consider the technical stuff first, the real stuff after. She waited. The query came as an afterthought. “What sort of things do you write on your blog?”

  “This and that.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “It began as therapy, something I shared with my loop of recovering alcoholics. They enjoyed my writing so much they encouraged me to set up a blog. I started out keeping a record about the first hundred days of being alcohol-free. Writing about how it felt, how I began coming to terms with what I had been and what I wanted to be. Then, when I got here with Sass, I included bits about my life in Aroha Bay—planting a garden, learning about a new country. I started with only one or two followers, but they grew. When my hundred days were up, people asked for a year. So…” She shrugged and smiled.

  Adam leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest; he looked half amused, half incredulous. “I just can’t believe you haven’t mentioned it in all this time.” His tone turned accusing. “Does Sass know?”

  “Of course she knows.” Alicia saw his eyes narrow. “We talk, Adam. Things get shared when people talk.”

  “So why did you keep it a secret from me?”

  “I didn’t as such. You never seemed interested in what I was doing with my time, never asked.” She saw that shaft hit home. “Did you assume I spent every minute of the day in the garden?”

  “Well, no, I…” He floundered.

  “Of course, you have been very busy,” she conceded. “What with Cressa and ‘stuff.’”

  She watched as his eyes flickered away, and her heart filled with misgivings. What had he gotten himself into? In some ways he’d turned into an amazing adult, but he did take the most appalling risks. She hastily blocked images of debts and shady deals. Dear God, don’t let it be gambling, like Terrence. Determined to keep the conversation light to the end, she patted his cheek as she prepared to leave. “We all have ‘stuff,’ Adam. However bad it is, I am always here for you.”

  She left, feeling she had given him quite enough to think about.

  ADAM WENT INTO HIS ROOM. He needed to go over some math today, but curiosity won out and he typed Alicia Walker into Google. Her blog popped up immediately. Steps to Freedom: a recovering alcoholic’s diary. He read a few entries. They were good, although he probably shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, she was an English teacher. But often they were funny as well, with wry, understated humor running through them. There were also some that talked frankly about the cravings she fought, the times of despair and loneliness. Mostly, however, her writing was filled with the quiet joy of a new life, symbolized by her planting the garden.

  She had quite a following, too, and readers’ comments were almost always positive: “Your blog gives me hope.” “I have started growing a few potted plants in my apartment.” There were some negative ones. “It’s easy to run away to a new life. What if you were still caught in the routines of your old life?”

  She’d answered that honestly. “I don’t know. Becoming involved with my children again has made an enormous difference. Without them, life has little meaning for me. What about those of you who are succeeding in turning your lives around without having to literally move to the ends of the earth? Thoughts?”

  Suggestions and support had flooded in. Adam liked the way she wasn’t trying to be an expert; she just wanted to get people talking. Things get shared when people talk. Cressa was a talker. She approached every topic fearlessly—except her baby and her marriage. He might not be a talker, but even he could see something was still wrong there. He didn’t like to admit it, but maybe his mother was right; maybe they all needed to talk
more.

  Movement outside his window caught his eye, and leaning sideways, he saw his mother up on a ladder, struggling to free a tree from some sort of creeper. He watched her snipping, then wrestling with what looked like long, springy ropes all tied up together. Some jerked free; others required more snips, and then she could drop a big knot of creepers down from the branches. She’d run out of any within arm’s reach soon, though. They were going to run out of time soon, too. This was as good a time as any, he thought, and went out to help her.

  ALICIA WAS SURPRISED to hear Adam’s voice. “Hey, Mom, need a hand?”

  She batted her hair out of her eyes with the back of her wrist, the gardening gloves rough on her forehead. He was standing below her, looking up. From this angle he was foreshortened and she realized this was the first time in many years that she’d been able to look down on him.

  “That would be wonderful. This jasmine is a nightmare. If you can free this tree, I can start on that poor bush over there, though I’m not sure it’s going to survive.” She descended the ladder and handed Adam the large snippers.

  In the beginning, they worked in silence. She heard Adam cuss a few times as he fought some of the fat, snaking ropes. “What did you say this stuff was?”

  “Jasmine,” she repeated. “Remember I used to keep some in a tub outside by the steps?”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember. It smelled nice at night.”

  “That’s the one. Except here it’s become this weed that’s taken over everything.” She gestured to the bushes buried under the weight of the jasmine. “I can’t bear to see it smothering all the other plants.”

  The task seemed symbolic, somehow—freeing bushes that had struggled for light, that were bowed under the weight of this invader. Even the tallest trees weren’t safe from the jasmine. It would make a good topic for her blog. She heard Adam give a sigh of satisfaction and another large tangle dropped from the branches above. She wondered what had brought him outside.

  “It’s good to see you enjoying the sun while it lasts.” The weather was always a safe topic.