Donna turned back to the fridge. “Adam said he was going up there too.”
Janey almost choked, but she managed to turn the noise into a cough. “What did Adam say?”
Donna barely glanced over her shoulder. “Said he was meeting a friend.”
“Oh, that sounds fun. That’s what I’m doing too.” A nervous giggle escaped her lips and she wiped her hands down her thighs. “I better go.” She made a hasty escape, sighing once she made it out of the farmhouse.
Then her anxiety turned to getting home before Adam arrived to pick her up. Turned out, he was already sitting in the driveway when Janey pulled her Jeep in beside him. She was glad she’d done her hair before taking Jess out to the lavender farm.
Adam straightened from his police cruiser and gave her a long look, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You look great.”
Janey could barely remember how to breathe. Adam Herrin had never told her she looked nice. He’d been friendly, sure. But this felt...that statement...everything was like this was a date.
He wore a dark pair of slacks and a dark green shirt, not his usual police uniform. He was stunning and magnificent, and Janey’s mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton balls.
She’d felt like this with Matt, that night at the Fall Festival. Could she have similar feelings for Adam, now, all these years later? How had she never seen him before?
“So compliments are bad,” he said, the smile slipping from his face.
“What?”
“I said you looked great and you’re just staring at me.” A blush crawled up his neck as he gestured to her front steps. “There’s something there for you.”
Her eyes flew to the porch, where sure enough, a pastry box sat. It wasn’t the first time she’d found exactly what she needed sitting on her porch. Her anonymous angel had been leaving food, diapers, clothes, and gifts since Matt’s death. She’d asked her neighbors, and they all denied it. No one had ever seen someone dropping things off at the house.
Janey took a step toward the box, knowing that there were fruit tarts inside. Her mouth watered, but she paused. Looking up into Adam’s penetrating eyes, she touched his collar. “Compliments are always good. Thank you. I think you look great too.”
His smile returned and he lifted his hand as if he’d touch his hat—if he were wearing one. “You want to run that box inside before we go?”
“Yes, I’ll throw it in the fridge.” She swiped the box off the top step and hurried into the house. She resisted the urge to stuff something in her mouth so she wouldn’t be so hungry at dinner. Taking just a moment to center herself, she drew in a deep breath. So her stomach felt like she’d swallowed jumping beans. And her hand itched to hold Adam’s.
So what?
She was allowed. He was only a couple of years older than her, and he was single. A tremor shook her fingers at the thought of really becoming involved with him. Matt hadn’t had a dangerous job at all, but Adam’s job required him to carry a weapon and wear protective gear. What if he passed away too?
Janey swallowed, her fear irrational. She knew that much. And still it tumbled through her with the power of water falling over a cliff.
She turned when she heard the door creak. “I’m coming,” she said.
“If this is too...weird, I get it,” he said, filling the doorway with his height and his broad shoulders. Matt had been tall and skinny, and Janey wished she wasn’t comparing the two of them.
“It’s not weird,” she said. “I was just putting the tarts in the fridge.”
“Tarts?”
“Fruit tarts. They’re my favorite.”
“Oh, right. I think I’ve heard you say that. Who brought them over?” He fell back to the porch as she approached.
“I don’t know. Someone just drops things off from time to time.”
His right eyebrow quirked, which elicited a giggle from her. “Oh, yeah? A secret admirer, maybe?”
“I doubt it,” she said. “I think it’s Nana Sophie on the corner, but she keeps denying it.”
Adam waved for her to go down the steps first. “I hope it’s not lame that I brought the cruiser. It’s either that or an old truck that smells like dogs and doesn’t have heat.”
Janey laughed, glad some of her earlier tension had fled. “It’s fine.” She slipped into the passenger seat, all of his police equipment between them. He closed her door behind her and sauntered around the front of the car with all the confidence of the police chief.
He exhaled as he got behind the wheel. “So, I’m dyin’ to know how we’re classifying this.”
The moment had come, and Janey had to define the thrumming of her pulse and the way he smelled like a musky version of heaven. She looked at him, and he met her gaze with something sharp and heated in his.
Something zinged along her skin, and she couldn’t believe that this attraction between them was one-sided. “It’s a date,” she said, her voice hardly her own. She cleared the frog from her throat. “Is that okay with you?”
Adam grinned and flipped the car into reverse. “I was hoping you’d say so.”
Janey relaxed into the seat after that, the conversation between them as easy as it ever had been. Everything about Adam was the same as it always had been. He was strong, and kind, and while he spoke, he didn’t use words he didn’t need to. When things fell silent between them, that was okay too.
He pulled into the parking lot at the lodge, and Janey got out to the dusky sight of pine trees, the sound of water lapping the shore in the distance, and the scent of cooking meat. She ran her hands up her arms and said, “Mm. I love this place.”
Adam glanced left and right as he came around the car to join her. “I don’t get up here much. It’s beautiful.” His movement was sure, and his fingers warm, as he drew her hand into his. “You work here, right?”
“My office is just behind reception,” she said. “We could stop by and I’ll show you around after we eat.”
He flashed her another grin as he opened the door to the restaurant. “Sure.”
The restaurant seemed filled to capacity, but Adam stepped up to the hostess and took her hand again as they were led to a booth in the back corner. The noise wasn’t quite as intense here, and Janey ordered a soda and a water when the waiter appeared mere moments after she’d sat down. She mourned the loss of Adam’s hand in hers as he settled across from her, and new fantasies swam to the front of her mind.
But she would not be kissing him that night. She’d never kissed on the first date, and she wasn’t going to start now. She had to be careful. Cautious. Go slow. Be sure. After all, this wasn’t just her life anymore.
“So you didn’t tell your mother about us going to dinner together,” she said.
Adam’s eyes flew to hers, a fair bit of panic in them. “I didn’t know what to tell her.” He lifted one shoulder into a shrug, the surprise fading from his expression. “Plus, I keep things pretty close to the vest until I have all the facts I need to start talking about them.”
“She’s watching Jess tonight.”
“She and Joel love Jess.”
Janey nodded, a ball of emotion forming in her throat as quickly as it took to blink. “They do, yes.”
“Good thing my brother got that started for me.” Adam graced her with another smile. “My mom says Jess likes to cook with her. Maybe he’d like to come help me with the soup recipes for the Fall Festival.”
“And you can keep an eye on him that way,” Janey said.
A flicker of emotion ran across his face, but he erased it quickly. “Yeah, that too.”
Janey had said something wrong, but she wasn’t sure what. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought up her son. Or Adam’s parents. Or something.
The waiter arrived with their drinks, and Janey attacked her diet cola so she could give herself a few seconds to cool down and think things through before she said something else to make Adam’s handsome features furrow in confusion.
Chapter Six
Adam studied the menu, though he already knew he wanted to order all the soups. Janey had talked a lot on the way into the National Park. Adam liked listening to her talk, and for the most part, he’d liked what she had to say.
But with the few things she’d said about her son and the lodge indicated that she wasn’t anywhere ready to be dating again.
But she said it was a date, he told himself. And she didn’t have to do that. He’d made his position vibrantly clear, what with saying their dinner was weird, and then asking her point-blank what the label was. And the hand-holding.... If she hadn’t known his intentions by then, that gesture was a dead giveaway.
But oh, how wonderful her fingers had felt between his. Just as magical as he’d imagined for all these years. Her skin was just as soft, and he wondered if he could just ask her to go for a walk with him after dinner so he could hold her hand again.
It was probably overly hopeful to think she could ever love him the way she’d loved Matt. To his knowledge, she hadn’t gone out with another man since the accident, and he had a lot of people around town he could ask.
But his hopes wouldn’t be dashed, especially because Janey’s eyes glittered when she met his gaze across the table. “What are you gonna get?”
“The soup, of course.” He closed the menu and set it aside. “How’s your mom?”
The waiter appeared, and Adam ordered a bowl of every soup on the menu. When he said, “Every soup?” Adam nodded like he took soup incredibly seriously.
He made a note and looked at Janey. “And I’ll have the French onion soup and the surf and turf.” She handed him her menu, confirmed she wanted a medium cook on her steak, and folded her hands in front of her on the table when he walked away.
“My mom’s deaf, but she won’t get a hearing aid. Annabelle’s tried. JoJo’s tried. Even Sami called from Florida and yelled at her to get something so she could hear her kids when they call.” She shook her head and laughed.
Everything in Adam tightened, his craving for her in his life so strong, he couldn’t contain his desperation to see things through to the end this time.
“So, tell me about you,” she said.
“You know all about me.” He took a drink of his water, the lemon a bit too tart for him.
“I used to know all about you. You’re...different. You’re the—”
“Excuse me, Chief?”
They both turned toward a woman standing at the end of their booth with her little boy.
“See, Mom! It is him.” The boy bounced on the balls of his feet and grinned at Adam like he was Santa Claus.
The woman smiled, clearly uncomfortable but willing to interrupt his dinner nonetheless. “My son is obsessed with being a cop. He insisted it was you, even though you’re not wearing your uniform.”
Adam smiled at the boy, who couldn’t be older than five. “Hey, there, bud. Being a cop is a great thing.”
“He came to my school!” The boy’s whole face was lit up, and Adam couldn’t help getting infected by his enthusiasm.
“Let me guess....” Adam cocked his head and pretended to think. But he didn’t really need to. He visited all the schools in Hawthorne Harbor each year, and there were only two elementary schools. Only one of those had a preschool.
“Lower Lincoln?” Adam said.
The boy clapped and said, “Yes!”
Adam laughed and reached for the child. He brought him close so he could look right into his eyes. “So you work hard in school and stay out of trouble. Then you could be a cop too.”
“Like you,” the boy said with wonder in his voice.
“Sure, like me.” Adam didn’t want to tell him how many years he’d put in doing anything but fun police work. Or about the dozens of trainings and classes he’d taken to qualify to become Chief of Police. Or how the timing had to be exactly right to get the job he wanted, where he wanted it.
“Take my picture, Mom.” The boy turned back to his mom, who snapped a picture and scurried her son away.
“Wow,” Janey said once they’d gone. “I didn’t know I’d be out with a real celebrity.”
Adam scoffed and waved his hand. “Everyone recognizes me. It comes with the job.” He watched her carefully, hoping that wouldn’t be a deal-breaker for her.
She lifted her water to her lips and sipped. Adam had never been jealous of a glass before, but he was in that moment. “And how do you feel about that? As I recall, seventeen-year-old Adam Herrin wouldn’t even get on the stage for the choir concert.”
He blinked, his thoughts completely vacating his brain for a moment. Then a laugh bubbled out of his chest and he wondered if now would be a good time to admit to her that he’d had a crush on her since his seventeen-year-old days.
“Not much of a singer, that’s all,” he said.
“Mm hm.” She watched him with those gorgeous eyes, and Adam—who had studied for twelve weeks in Washington D.C. to learn how to read people, their body language, their emotions—saw mirrored in her gaze what he had rioting inside his chest.
Hope. Desire. Wonder.
Fear.
Their meal arrived, and Adam stared at the five bowls of soup the waiter and a helper placed before him. “All right.” He grinned at Janey, wishing he’d gotten a steak and lobster too. “French onion, you say?”
The bowl was beautiful, with gooey, browned cheese covering the bowl, hiding what was underneath. She had a bowl of it too, and she smiled as she broke through a corner of the cheese and said, “Oh, yeah. This stuff is like gold.” She took a sip and moaned, her eyes closing in bliss.
Adam copied her, getting some cheese with his beef broth and caramelized onions. The taste was delicious—salty and oniony, rich and deep. “These are definitely the best onions I’ve ever had in French onion soup,” he admitted. Usually he disliked the texture of the onions, but the lodge had really perfected this soup.
The real question was: Could Adam do the same?
* * *
Adam woke to a sloppy, warm tongue on his face. “No,” he moaned, shoving Gypsy back. The dog was relentless though, and finally Adam chuckled and sat up. “Fine. I’m up.” He pushed her away again. “I’m up.”
She barked and trotted out of the bedroom, her claws clicking on the hard floor once she left the carpet. Adam yawned and stretched and looked up to make sure there was a ceiling above him. Because he felt like he was floating, on a high from the walk along the lake with Janey’s hand in his.
There had been no kiss, and Adam was actually glad about that. He didn’t want to push Janey past where she was comfortable, and while she hadn’t said Matt’s name, there was a spot near the curve of the lake where she’d paused, started to tell a memory, and then sort of...stalled. Got lost.
Adam was sure it had something to do with Matt, but he hadn’t asked. The fact was, Janey’s past was filled with Matt, and he’d have to deal with it one piece at a time.
Gypsy barked again, and Adam padded down the hall and around the corner into the kitchen to let her into the backyard. Fable followed, and Adam turned to make his weekend coffee. He didn’t typically work weekends, and his plans for the day included grocery shopping and experimenting with French onion soup recipes.
His phone dinged from in the bedroom, and he practically sprinted toward it. Janey had mentioned dropping Jess off before she went to work, and Adam had agreed that the boy could come help him cook that day.
Janey had classes and tours going on today, and part of Adam wanted to sneak into the back of the theater just to hear her talk about the trees and wildlife in the Olympic National Park.
The message wasn’t from Janey, unfortunately, but his mother. Jess is staying here for the day. Hope that’s okay. Janey said she was going to bring him to you, but he’s out with Drew in the fields and it seems silly to drive him back to your place.
Adam read and re-read the message, his frown growing. He didn’t like that his brother was the one bonding with Jan
ey’s son. Sure, it made sense, as Jess and Dixie were good friends, and Dixie’s mother was Drew’s fiancée.
Still, Adam wanted to spend time with Jess. Learn more about the boy. Develop a friendship there beyond that which they currently had, if he could. He’d tried not to be over-eager to do such a thing in the past. Janey was very protective of her son, and Adam understood why.
He had a grandfather and three uncles and now Drew and Joel, Adam’s stepfather.
Adam didn’t know how to respond, at least not to his mother. He typed out a message to Janey instead, hoping he wasn’t being too forward but also tired of keeping his feelings for the woman secret. Dormant. Bottled up.
So no Jess today? It’s fine, really. Maybe when you get off work, you’ll bring him to taste my soup attempts.
Before he could second-guess himself, he sent the text and stepped into the shower. When he got out, she’d said, Yeah, sure. Around 4?
He confirmed and went to the grocery store to get the ingredients he needed to try to replicate the French onion soup at the lodge, as well as a chicken and wild rice soup that might be a hit.
It seemed like every eye gravitated to his as he parked and strolled into the grocery store. He was used to it. So used to it that sometimes he didn’t notice as he went about being a human being in the town of Hawthorne Harbor. Sometimes, like today, he felt the weight of each glance, each look, each blip of recognition.
He felt like an outsider in his own town, where he’d grown up. But he pushed his cart through the aisles, collecting the whole chicken he’d need to make broth, and cheesecloth for the spices and herbs he’d use to flavor the rice.
“Hey, Chief,” someone said as they passed, and Adam caught a fleeting look at a man he probably should recognize. But he turned the corner before Adam could fully identify him.
“Hey,” he said, way too late. He sighed as he turned back to his cart and ran smack dab into his groceries, which had been nudged closer to him.
He grunted and a truckload of embarrassment flowed through him, especially when he heard a woman say, “I’m so sorry. I was just moving it to get to the—”
Hawthorne Harbor Box Set Page 26