Icebreaker

by Deirdre Martin

  “Fuck no!” Oliver scoffed. “Are you insane? It’s boring. It’s real.”

  “Real as in you now have to deal with certain issues, whatever they may be?”

  “See, that’s the thing. I don’t have all that ‘Daddy didn’t love me and Mommy was a hooker’ bullshit to sort out. I don’t have any deep, dark emotional issues that drove me to drink. I just liked it. I’m detoxed now, okay? I could walk out of here with you and be perfectly fine.”

  “Bullshit, Oliver.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Look, I know this must be scary for you—”

  “It’s not scary,” Oliver interrupted fiercely. “It’s a waste of time. You know how long the whole program is?” he asked, his voice going up an octave. “Eight weeks. Eight eight eight eight eight.”

  “Well, if that’s what it takes,” said Sinead.

  “That’s what they say it takes,” Oliver corrected. “They don’t take the individual into account. It’s a one-size-fits-all program. This individual does not need eight weeks of hearing other people’s sad loser stories and navel gazing.”

  Sinead was getting exasperated. “Just do the program and shut up, okay?”

  “So even you have turned against me.”

  Sinead caught the impish look in his eye, and Oliver laughed.

  “You’re so melodramatic.”

  “Which is what makes me so riveting to watch in court. Speaking of which, how’s it going with the divorce case?”

  Sinead shuddered. “God, those two deserve each other. Last week she claimed in the paper that he locked her up in a secret dungeon. I told her that she can’t just go saying these things, or he’ll sue for defamation of character on top of everything else. Oh, wait, he already is.” She kicked at a twig. “I think she liked working with you better.”

  “Of course she did. I told her all the time how hot she was. I bet you don’t do that.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “And the fraud case?”

  “Status quo.”

  “Sounds like you got a lot going on there, missy.”

  “I do.” Mention of it made Sinead suddenly tired. It was Pavlovian: Oliver mentioned work, and she stifled a big yawn.

  “You sure you can—”

  “Don’t you dare.” Sinead pointed at him warningly. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

  Oliver raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Please don’t hurt me, pretty lady.”

  Sinead linked her arm through his as they continued down a snaking gravel path toward a thicket of tall firs. God, she’d missed him. She wondered if his protestations weren’t all bluster. Much like Adam, Oliver wasn’t one for admitting weakness. There was no way he would ever admit there might be reasons behind his drinking, or that he was actually getting something out of therapy. Still, she could see how a calm, serene place like this would drive him nuts. Oliver lived life at warp speed, and Beechtree was very . . . still. Adam would like it, she thought.

  “What’s the buzz with you and hockey boy?” Oliver asked.

  “We went to the wedding of one of his teammates last night.”

  “Whoa. Stop the presses.” Oliver looked surprised. “You went out in public together?”

  “Not as a couple. More like a date between friends. As Adam pointed out, even if his teammates did figure out I’m his attorney, it’s not like they’d have the guts to ask him—or me—if there was anything else going on.”

  “That’s not the point. That was a très risky move, little sister. What if word got back to the big three that you went to a wedding with your client?”

  “How would word get back to them? One of the hockey players is gonna call up the firm and tell them?” As the words were leaving her mouth, Sinead felt a freeze come over her. Saari might. “Besides, you can socialize with a client without dating them.”

  “I’m just shocked. I thought you guys were going totally cloak and dagger.”

  “It was Adam’s idea, not mine.” Sinead sat down on a beautiful, carved wooden bench nearby, Oliver following suit.

  Oliver frowned. “I hate nature.”

  “Adam loves it,” Sinead replied, trying not to sound glum. “A lot.”

  “Princess doesn’t sound happy.”

  “I’m not unhappy. It’s just that when we went away for the weekend together, we somehow stumbled on to the topic of retirement, and he told me he wants to live in a place like Bearsville year round.”

  Oliver nudged her in the ribs. “You guys are thinking long-term, huh?”

  “Not overtly,” Sinead said carefully. “We’re just taking it as it comes.” She frowned. “I hate that expression. That and ‘Go with the flow.’ ”

  “So if I’ve got this right, and I know I do because I know you, you’d rather run naked down Broadway than live in the country full-time.”

  “Bingo.”

  “Sinead, we’re talking thirty, forty years away.”

  “I know. But it just disturbed me because it shows how different we are at heart, you know?”

  Oliver snorted. “You differ on one thing. Big deal. You both love kids, right?”

  Sinead softened. “Yes.”

  “Well, if you ask me, that’s a more important issue to be simpatico on than where you’ll be cashing your Social Security checks.”

  “But he thinks Bearsville would be a good place to raise kids! This is the type of stuff that could make or break a relationship. You have to be simpatico on all these big issues.”

  Oliver looked reflective. “You know, when Jim Beam and I were dating, our discussions never went that deep.”

  “I thought Johnny Walker was your guy.”

  “Him, too. It was a three way.” Oliver tousled her hair. “Look, things have a way of working out the way they’re supposed to, all right? I really believe that. Even my being here in this godforsaken—”

  “Multimillion-dollar facility—”

  “Is probably the way things should be karmically.”

  “Karmically?”

  Oliver shook his head forlornly. “See, I should be drinking, right? I sound like an asshole when I’m sober. Total asshole.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Phew.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the front pocket of his shirt. “You know what I mean, though, right?”

  “Since when do you smoke?”

  “Since I got here. Jesus, Sinead, I have to have some vice.”

  “Could you maybe wait till I’ve left?”

  “Have some mercy, woman, please.”

  Sinead felt bad. “Fine.”

  Oliver lit up, appearing to take great pleasure in blowing smoke rings out of the side of his mouth. “Who knows? By the time you’re both old and decrepit, he might want to stay in a city, or you might want to live in the country. You never know. C’mon, take a few deep, cleansing breaths with Uncle Ollie. You’ll feel better.”

  Cleansing breaths? Sinead drew back. “Oh my God, can I have my friend back, please?”

  “I’m trying out new, sober personalities. I call that one Yogi Oliver.”

  “Yogi Oliver smokes? Interesting contradiction.”

  Oliver’s shoulders slumped. “Sure, kill my dreams.” He threw the cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out. “I feel healthier already,” he said sarcastically.

  “So I’m being an idiot where Adam is concerned,” Sinead double-checked.

  “Pretty much, yeah. Stop worrying so much. It’s a real buzz kill.”

  Sinead kissed the side of his face. “I love you, Oliver.”

  “I love you, too, sweetcakes. Now let’s finish up this walk. The fresh air is killing me.”

  28

  Sinead scurried around her apartment, giving it a quick tidy up before Adam arrived. He’d just called her from D.C. where the Blades were waiting to catch a plane home, asking if he could stop by for a little bit when he got in.

  “I know you’re really busy,” he had said apologetically, whic
h made Sinead feel bad.

  “Not too busy to see you,” she had assured him.

  Sinead missed him. They spoke every day he was away, but it wasn’t the same. It was odd: even when they were both in New York, they sometimes went three or four days without seeing each other because of their schedules. But when he was away, his absence made a huge difference to her psychologically. Perhaps it was the knowledge that if he needed her, she wouldn’t be able to get to him in minutes. At any rate, she was glad he was coming home.

  She went into the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water before applying a little concealer. Against her pale skin, the circles under her eyes had taken on a life of their own. She looked terrible—at least her face did. The rest of her looked pretty good in her faded skinny jeans and a black-and-white French sailor shirt.

  A frisson of excitement crackled through her body when the doorbell rang, and there he was, Adam, looking sexy in jeans and olive polo shirt.

  “Hey,” he said, breaking into a happy grin.

  “Hey.” Sinead closed the door behind him. She hesitated a moment, then exuberantly threw her arms around his neck. “I really, really missed you.”

  Adam laughed. “Me, too.” His eyes did a careful tour of her body. “You look great.”

  Sinead almost said, “Oh, please,” but instead accepted the compliment.

  Adam rested his forehead against hers for a moment, then lifted his face, his intense gaze pinning her. What happened next seemed to go in slow motion: Adam leaned in, nuzzling her neck, hot breath tickling her skin. Sinead hesitated, before letting her fingers trail seductively up his neck, tucking a stray strand of his hair behind his ear. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was too late: his lips were nipping at hers, his tongue pushing its way between her teeth.

  Sinead groaned, trying to ignore Adam’s seductive smile as he pulled her to him, hard. Want you, Sinead thought. Want you so bad. He was pressing hard against her. Sinead could feel him rising against her leg. All she’d have to do was undo his belt . . .

  The thought of it made her feel weak. Take him, she thought. For once in your life, be bold. Pushing herself to be audacious, Sinead hurriedly pushed up Adam’s shirt and began licking his chest. His head fell back with a moan as he arched into her mouth. Her own excitement growing, Sinead ran the pad of one of her thumbs over his nipples. She loved the feel of him, his taut skin, the muscles underneath. She splayed her hands on his chest, kissing him, Adam murmuring his approval.

  Adam brought his head forward to look at her, his pupils dazed with desire as he grabbed her wrist. “I want you,” he whispered. He didn’t even wait for her to respond as he pushed her up against the wall.

  “Want you,” he repeated, frantically undoing his pants. Sinead watched dizzily as his clothing pooled at his feet and he kicked it away. Her breath was beginning to become fast and shallow the more aroused she became. Adam began kissing her wildly, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Sharing his desperation, Sinead freed herself of her jeans and panties, guiding him into her.

  “Oh, God.” Sinead gave a little cry as she wrapped her legs tightly around Adam’s hips. She wanted him deep inside her, wanted to fully feel the sensation of the two of them greedy for each other.

  “Missed you,” Adam whispered. His hands cupped her butt, holding her up, his mouth biting her neck. And then he was whispering things in her ear she never imagined him saying, things even Chip hadn’t said. Her head was spinning, her heart going like a jackhammer.

  Adam resumed kissing her. He was fucking her roughly, both of them sweaty, pumping against each other. Adam bit down hard on her shoulder, and that was it; Sinead was coming with a loud scream, Adam watching with a deep thrill in his eyes. “You now,” she gasped.

  Adam obeyed. Fast and rough. Animal grunts. Frantic. And then he threw his head back and with one violent thrust came inside her, shuddering.

  Still panting, he put his sweaty forehead against hers. For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. Eventually, Sinead slowly released her legs from around Adam’s hips and lowered them to the floor. A satisfied grin lit up his face.

  “Well, that was . . . uh . . .”

  “Unexpected?” Sinead supplied.

  “Very. Best homecoming I’ve ever had.”

  Sinead laughed, shimmying her jeans back up her hips while Adam did the same.

  “C’mere.”

  He gathered her in his arms, tenderly stroking her face. “I love you,” he said with quiet passion. “I have for a very long time.”

  Sinead was overwhelmed. Before Adam, she’d been telling herself she didn’t care if she ever got another chance at love. But she’d been lying to protect herself, fearful of laying her heart open to another man only to have it carelessly torn apart. Adam had coaxed her back into the land of feeling. It was scary, but it was exhilarating, too.

  Adam looked apprehensive. “Sinead?”

  “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about how I’d talked myself into believing I didn’t care if I ever fell in love again, because I was so afraid it would end in disaster like me and Chip.”

  “I’m not Chip,” Adam reminded her quietly.

  “Are you free Sunday?” Sinead suddenly asked.

  “I have a practice in the morning, but after that, yeah. Why?”

  “My family always gets together for a big Sunday meal. Would you like to come?”

  “I’d love to.”

  “You might take that back after you meet my mother. She can be very pushy and blunt.”

  Adam tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Gee, that reminds me of someone else I know.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.”

  “All right, it’s true,” Sinead grumbled.

  Those aren’t necessarily negative traits, you know.”

  “Let’s just wait and see if you still feel that way after you meet my mom,” Sinead reiterated. She wrapped her arms around his neck again. “Stay the night?”

  “On one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t wake up at two in the morning to find you at your computer, working.”

  “Scout’s honor,” Sinead promised. “Unless I can’t sleep,” she amended.

  “Oh, I’ll help you sleep,” Adam murmured seductively.

  Sinead felt giddy. “Really?”

  “I’m gonna see to it that you’re tired out. Very tired out.”

  “Mmm, sounds good to me.”

  “Eat first? Take-out Thai? I’m starving.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll call.”

  Sinead went into the kitchen, opening the drawer where she stashed all her take-out menus. She ran back into the living room impulsively.

  “Say it again,” she begged.

  Adam smiled that slow, sexy grin of his. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Adam Perry.”

  She returned to the kitchen, executing a secret pirouette. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so happy. She could actually see them making a life together. It would be complicated because of what they each did for a living, but it would be real. Authentic. Who could ask for more?

  “You sure I’m dressed okay?”

  Sinead found Adam’s question amusing as she led him up the stairs to her parents’ apartment above the pub. When she’d called her folks to let them know she was bringing someone for dinner, her mother went crazy, plying her with questions. It was like being interrogated by a Celtic Torquemada.

  “You look fine,” she assured Adam, who was wearing jeans and a crewneck sweater. “Dinner isn’t formal, you know. My dad will probably have undone his belt already in anticipation of stuffing himself, and chances are Quinn will be wearing a shirt stained with mustard or coffee. Mags will be in yoga pants, and Brendan will be in a pair of ratty old jeans, guaranteed. The only ones who will be dressed up will be my mom, who will have come directly from Mass, and my sister-in-law Natalie, who’s French. She always looks dressy. An
d gorgeous.”

  Adam pinched her butt. “Not as gorgeous as you.”

  Sinead shooed his hand away. “Behave.”

  She couldn’t imagine Adam not liking her family, nor could she imagine them not liking him, unless they mistook his shyness for standoffishness. Sinead turned around. “Try to talk a little, okay?” she whispered.

  Adam rolled his eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

  Sinead opened the door onto a familiar scene: her mother, Maggie, and Natalie were all chatting in the kitchen; her father, brother, and brother-in-law were in the living room watching football. It always amazed Sinead how these dinners broke down along gender lines, with the women in the kitchen and the men waiting to be called for dinner. That’s the way it had always been in her family: old-fashioned.

  “Look who’s here,” her mother said pleasantly.

  Sinead kissed her mother’s cheek. “Hi, Mom.” She gestured at the gorgeous man standing beside her. “This is Adam.”

  “Lovely to meet you,” said her mother, extending a hand.

  “You, too.” Adam handed her the small bouquet of flowers he’d bought.

  “Good-looking and polite,” her mother noted approvingly under her breath.

  Sinead was mortified. “Ma.”

  Her mother feigned deafness as she went to find a vase to put the flowers in.

  Sinead continued the introductions. “You’ve already met Maggie.”

  “Nice to see you again,” said Maggie, sounding genuine. Sinead had been afraid her sister would still be giving him the evil eye.

  “Hey, Charlie,” said Sinead to her nephew, who was balanced on Maggie’s hip. She turned to Adam. “Isn’t he adorable?”

  “He is.”

  “He’s a little cranky,” said Maggie. “He has an ear infection and was up half the night. He’s exhausted.”

  “Ear infections are pretty common with babies, aren’t they?” Adam asked. “I remember my niece getting a lot of them when she was small.”

  “You’re right, unfortunately,” said Maggie, her eyes cutting quickly to Sinead’s. She looked impressed. Sinead looked at Adam as if he were a cat that had just started to talk. She knew he loved kids, but discussing babies’ ear infections was the last thing she ever expected to hear coming from his mouth.