Even Heroes Cry, Fords of Nashville, Book 1

by Hildie McQueen

  "It's working." He grunted when she slid down his body and her lips pressed against the sensitive place right below his belly button. "Tesha...."

  The feel of her tongue swirling around the head of his erection made his hips lift off the bed of their own accord. Her fingers curled around the base as her mouth took him in and Adam lost any semblance of control surrendering fully to her.

  Chapter Eight

  Tesha studied Adam's face and held back a giggle. It was interesting to find out he was the stereotypical male. Fell asleep after a second bout of sex with barely a mumbled "you can stay the night."

  His chest lifted and lowered with each breath and she couldn't help but press a kiss to his pursed lips.

  He scrunched his face and continued to sleep with a soft snore. When he smacked his lips and swallowed, Tesha waited for him to wake. He didn't. She wondered what he dreamed of. At least he seemed to be relaxed.

  Adam Ford was amazingly gorgeous. His large body shaped like a Greek god's with perfectly sculpted muscles. He was tall, with wide shoulders and a broad chest that tapered to a flat stomach and narrow hips. And, he had a beautiful ass. She thought so before, but now could verify it having seen it.

  All right it was enough of this girly crush thing.

  Tesha slid from the bed and reached for a t-shirt that hung on the back of a chair. She tiptoed down the hallway to the screened in porch and picked up her discarded dress, panties, and flip-flops.

  As she made her way across the grass to her house, she looked up at the star filled sky and gasped. Thousands of stars twinkled in the darkness, some clearer, some larger than others. The moon was bright, lighting the way but she could not stop looking at it and staring. She spread her arms and turned in circles and smiled.

  The next morning, the aroma of her ham and cheese biscuits filled the kitchen as Tesha made her way from it to the dining table while sipping her morning cup of Earl Grey. She stopped short at seeing Adam's face in the glass door. With rumpled hair and wearing a white t-shirt, he frowned while waiting for her to open the door. She wanted to throw herself at him, to kiss him until they were both breathless. Of course that would end up in embarrassment if he came to cut things off and reiterate a relationship between them could not be. Tesha swore under her breath. If he said their night together was a big mistake, she'd smack him.

  The knot in her stomach lightened when their gazes met and the expression in his blue eyes was warm, not foreboding. She opened the door and pretended nonchalance. "Good morning, neighbor."

  Without a word, he walked in and looked at the walls. She studied him, taking in the still wet hair and his broad back. "Looks good."

  He was the most interesting, intriguing man.

  "Would you like some tea? The biscuits are done." Tesha waited for him to start the "I can't have a relationship line." If he did, she was going to shove him out the door and lock it. But he surprised her and walked into the kitchen. "Sure."

  They each ate two biscuits each and drank tea. Tesha decided to show Adam the current work in progress since he remained silent. "Now I'm trying to find a plumber to replace the faucets in the sinks. I'm at a bit of a standstill and have not done anything in the bathrooms upstairs. They may have to knock holes into the walls so it's silly to paint right now. But I have prepped and painted two other bedrooms rooms so far."

  He listened and nodded.

  "Want to look?"

  "Yes."

  She walked up the stairs and he followed. "What do you think?" She pointed to the end of the hallway, which widened toward a window on one side. "I turned this into a little reading nook." In the small space she'd placed a bookshelf and filled it with all her books. There were two overstuffed chairs she'd found in a consignment shop in Atlanta, one on both sides of the small window. The sunlight would provide perfect lighting for reading during the day.

  She took his hand and went to an open area to the right of the nook. "I'm trying to figure out if I want to turn this into two rooms or keep it one space and make it a large suite. What do you think?"

  For a long while he took in the space. "Are you planning to sleep up here?"

  "No. I want to stay downstairs and use the upstairs for my guests. If I keep this room as is. Then I will only have three guest rooms."

  He went to stand in the middle of it. "If you split it, the rooms will be very small. I think you should leave it."

  "That's what I thought." Tesha loved how they thought alike when it came to her house. How easy it was to be with him although he didn't speak much. Still a part of her wondered what brought him over this morning.

  "Why did you leave last night?" His solemn expression did not give any hint of his thoughts.

  "I wasn't sure you wanted me to spend the night." Tesha maintained her vow to be honest at all times.

  "Before I fell asleep I said you could stay."

  She closed the distance between him and looked up at him. "Could."

  Adam backed just a bit and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. He lifted his shoulders. "Are you angry?"

  Tesha chuckled. "Am I that scary? No, I'm not mad. You didn't say you wanted me to stay. Just said could, which is not the same."

  Once again he only studied her, not saying a word. Would she ever become used to his lack of movement? How quiet he was? The silence as he pondered her words stretched.

  "Hello?" Cleve was downstairs. He'd gone to Nashville for several business meetings. She'd forgotten he was stopping by on his way home.

  She narrowed her eyes at Adam. "Saved by the bell."

  "I wanted you to stay."

  "Really?" It was nice to hear him admit to wanting her to remain with him.

  Adam neared and leaned in, his eyes locked with hers. Tesha lifted her face wanting to feel his lips on hers. He straightened and took a step backward breaking the spell.

  "Hey, there you are," Cleve said from the doorway, his eyes darting from her to Adam. "Hello."

  A stiff nod was Adam's only response.

  Her friend walked in and looked around the space. "This room is too big." Cleve gave Tesha a puzzled look when she shook her head. "What are you doing with it?"

  "I'm going to make it a suite," she replied.

  They made their way downstairs back to the kitchen. Adam gave her a long look then excused himself and left. She could tell Cleve waited for her to say something about her neighbor. It was best to let him ask whatever questions he wanted. Tesha served him biscuits and a cup of coffee and sat opposite him at the kitchen table.

  "I don't like him," Cleve told her between bites. "He's got a big chip on his shoulder. Not very friendly."

  Tesha shrugged. "I suppose he does come across that way. But he's a good guy."

  "Is he going to do more work upstairs?" Cleve would not stop asking questions until he felt reassured. "I'm not sure you're safe alone with him. He watches you too much."

  "Maybe it's because I'm a hot number," Tesha joked and shimmied her shoulders. She laughed when Cleve gave her a droll look.

  "I'm serious. You are a beautiful woman, Tesha. And that's what worries me. He has this propriety air when looking at you and it's almost like he challenges me. Maybe someone should check into his background."

  Soft knocks saved her from more of Cleve's comments. Mrs. Miller stood at the door holding a beautiful flowering-hanging basket. Tesha moved back to allow the woman to enter. Mrs. Miller took a deep breath. "Happy housewarming! Oh my, it sure smells delicious."

  Cleve went to the lady and relieved her of the basket. "Tesha makes the best ham and cheese biscuits. I can eat a dozen if I'm not careful."

  "Mrs. Miller, how nice to see you." Tesha introduced her new visitor to Cleve, who immediately began asking her questions about her store. Cleve had to be the most inquisitive person Tesha ever met.

  While her visitors chatted and Mrs. Miller ate a biscuit, Tesha prepared a small basket with several more for the older woman to take to her book club. Although she'd been invite
d, Tesha didn't feel ready to meet a group of women at once. Not yet.

  "Mrs. Miller," Cleve began, glancing towards Tesha, "the guy next door has been helping Tesha with some construction work in the house. Do you feel he's trustworthy enough to be alone with her?"

  "Cleve!" Tesha pictured hitting him upside the head with a hammer.

  Mrs. Miller chuckled. "He's a hero. Of course, she's safe. Adam told me the other day about coming here to help you."

  Tesha was surprised that Adam would actually hold a conversation with someone. "He did?"

  "Yes," Mrs. Miller sipped from her teacup. "He also told me he warned you about his PTSD."

  "PTSD?" Cleve shook his head. "I suppose he needs the work. What kind of warning?" He gave Tesha a pointed look.

  "Adam told me it's best if he works alone during the day that I not be here with him by myself."

  "But you were when I got here." Cleve pointed out the obvious.

  "He said if he felt anxiety coming on, he'd tell me and leave."

  "You're so naïve. The man barely talks."

  If only Cleve knew how well Adam communicated with his body.

  Once again Mrs. Miller laughed. "From what I understand, Adam has always been a quiet man. He needs the work because it's best for him to keep busy. Adam Ford doesn't need money."

  "He doesn't?" Tesha's mind turned into Cleve mode. "What did he do before joining the service?"

  "The Army." Mrs. Miller let out a breath. "Adam was a CEO of Ford Enterprise in Nashville. They are one of the biggest commercial marketing companies in the southeast. He left it all to go to Afghanistan."

  "Why?" Both Cleve and Tesha asked in unison.

  "His brother told me it was a combination of their younger brother, Caden, joining and wanting to protect him and the loss of a good friend and business partner when the towers fell."

  Tesha sank down and picked at a biscuit. "Did Caden..."

  "He's fine." Mrs. Miller patted her hand. "He's a police officer in Nashville now."

  Cleve remained after Mrs. Miller left. She knew he had something in mind to remain so late when facing a six-hour drive to Atlanta. Tesha sat on the couch while Cleve sat on the other end and flipped through channels. "Go ahead tell me what you’re thinking," Tesha told him, not sure she wanted to have the conversation.

  "I'm worried about you." He glanced to her and then to the television, which showed a woman pimping an ugly embroidered blouse on a shopping channel. "I think you're ready for a relationship, but just not with that guy."

  On one hand she loved Cleve and knew he wanted the best for her, but one of the reasons for moving from Atlanta was to get away from what he and her parents pictured as the type of man she should date.

  "Because he's not a preppy executive and member of a tennis club? Cleve, I don't know if I will pursue a relationship with Adam, but if I do, it will be because he is a good man. Who I date will be my choice and I am not going to give a damn whether or not you or anyone agrees with my choices." Tesha was on a roll. "Did I say anything when you dated that skank Mandy or Candy, who was after your money?"

  She was gratified by Cleve's embarrassed look. "You got me there. And it has nothing to do with status."

  "You keep telling yourself that." Tesha was angry. "My mother never ceased to point out how I could have aspired to marry higher and "settled" for David. David was a great man, I was privileged he chose to marry me. Look, I know you all want the best for me, but trust me. Please, let me make my own decisions.”

  "What worries me is his illness, sweetheart." Cleve's eyes met hers. "He may never get better. May not be able to have a normal life. Especially if he's not getting treatment. And if he is getting help, even then there are no guarantees."

  After Cleve left, Tesha poured a glass of cabernet and found a jazz station on the computer. She allowed the music and wine to soothe her as she lay on the couch.

  He may never get better.

  How bad was Adam's PTSD? She had to find out before things became more than just physical between them.

  Chapter Nine

  The engine rumbled to life and Adam felt the vibrations of the '65 Ford Fairlane as it started for the first time in many years.

  The smell of engine oil and leather took him back to working in the garage on old cars with his father. For as long as he could remember, he and his brothers would take turns helping while their dad tinkered under the hood of whatever car he worked on that year. Eventually as they grew into teenagers, each of them found a car and he'd help them fix it to drive. It was second nature to Adam to spend time working on old cars.

  He climbed out of the car to check under the hood. All seemed to be working well. It was ready for a test drive. Months spent restoring the car and finally he was almost done. All it needed was a tank full of gas and final adjustments to the idle.

  That morning the last part arrived. He'd hurried out to the garage barely able to sustain the excitement. It was satisfying to hear the engine’s first roar. Vince would be so proud.

  He'd done it, completed two of the projects his friend spoke of nonstop the entire time they'd been stationed together in Afghanistan.

  Vince Bailey's conversations had revolved around three subjects, the house, the car, and his future wife. Vince hadn’t met the woman he planned to marry, but that never stopped him from talking about her as if she already existed.

  Give me three. Three years, Ford, and you'll see. I'll have the trifecta. A sexy car to get the smokin' hot girl. The amazing house that will make her fall in love with me and then a sexy wife to be with me for the rest of my life. You'll see, Ford. When you come over for barbeques.

  He'd laugh when Adam rolled his eyes. An infectious laughter that made others join in.

  It was too quiet in the garage after he cut off the engine. Adam walked around the car, inspecting every single detail.

  The black glossy paint set off the bright red interior with white piping. Just like Vince had described. When it came to the house Adam had been more at liberty since his friend did not go to as much detail. But at the hospital, Vince had gone over every detail of how he planned to fix up the car. It must have been his way of dealing with the pain of so many wounds.

  Adam would take the car for a trial drive, and then it was time to make the phone call.

  Two days later, Vincent Bailey Sr. wiped his eyes while walking around the car. "You did it, son." His moist eyes met Adams. "You restored it exactly like Vinnie would have."

  Adam remained quiet, allowing the older man, whose striking resemblance to his friend always took him by surprise, to talk.

  "I bet Vinnie's up there grinning ear to ear." Vince's father took out his handkerchief and blew his nose. "Can I drive it?"

  "It's yours."

  The man shook his head. "Vince told me clearly. The car and house were to be yours." He lifted his hand to silence Adam when he went to speak. "He got his love of cars from me. I have five in my garage and house, right now. Last thing I need is another one, my wife already grumbles nonstop saying I need to sell a couple. Besides it'll help with the third part of the plan." He grinned and years melted of his face. "Don't give me that look. I bet you already got your eye on a girl. Come on, let's cruise."

  They rode for miles without a destination. Mr. Bailey lowered the volume on the radio. He kept his eyes on the long patch of country road and spoke. "So it seems to me like you got the house and the car, now all you need is the wife. What you doing about it?"

  Adam watched the passing scenery. Even after living in the state most of his life, he never tired of it. Tennessee was beautiful. "I'm trying my best, Mr. Bailey." It was a lie, but the last thing he needed was someone else badgering him about getting married.

  "If anyone deserves a good life, it's you. After what you did, saving all those boys' lives over there."

  "Didn't save Vince."

  "You got him out of there. He lived long enough for me to say goodbye." The older man's voice cracked on the last w
ord and they rode in silence a bit longer.

  Lazy cows grazed in the distance and Adam wondered what life would be like for him if he could have it all, the pie in the sky as it were.

  As if reading his thoughts Vincent Bailey broke the silence. "Vince told me you were married once already and that she left you. He hoped you'd find someone better. He would have been married by now I'm sure. That boy did most things he set his mind to."

  "I can't."

  "Son, you have to leave it behind. If you don't, it'll eat you up inside. Don't let it. Get some help. It won't go away on its own. You should know that by now."

  Adam nodded, only to make Mr. Bailey feel better. He didn't have any intention of seeking counseling. He'd done plenty of research, only a scant few who had it as bad as he did, made it through and were able to have normal lives. It was either that or they were walking time bombs. Personally, he didn't believe it was ever possible to get rid of the violence trapped inside his head.

  "You'll never know if you don't try. Broken people are like broken clay pots. They can be put back together. I know it will never be the same when the pieces are glued. There will be cracks. But those cracks, they add personality. Tell of survival. Of strength, of character."

  Adam remained silent. Mr. Bailey turned the knob and a country song came on. Tim McGraw sang about making the most out of life and Mr. Bailey gave Adam a triumphant look. "See there, Vince agrees with me. Sent that song." He hummed along to the music as they headed back.

  An hour later when Adam went to close the garage door, a pair of dog tags hanging from the rear view mirror caught his attention. Mr. Bailey must have left them.

  Live a good life, Adam. You better make it a good one 'cause you're gonna be living mine, too.

  Rapid chopping sounds of the helicopters blades and the sounds of his heart beating hard did not stop that night while Adam pushed up and down from the floor, exercising until his arms trembled and gave out and he collapsed onto the wooden floor. He rolled to his back and began doing sit-ups.