“When Brook graduated college. They would have loved that, so I cried for hours. I’m dreading her wedding. I mean, I want her to get married, but my mother would have loved to plan a wedding. Look at me. I’m worried about something that hasn’t even happened yet. I must sound like an idiot.”
“Not at all. I’m sure your parents would have loved your graduation and wedding, too.”
She tried to smile. Talking about this was so hard. She would like to think her parents would have been proud of everything she had accomplished, but whenever she thought about it her eyes watered. And after the waterworks following their death, she promised to keep her eye leakage to a minimum. Thinking about “what ifs” did not help in that goal.
“How’s your mom doing?” She changed the focus. The best way to dodge unwanted questions was to divert attention.
“She’s hanging in there. She spends a lot of time with her animals. She’s nursing a bird back to health that she found while horseback riding. That’s keeping her busy. I don’t know what she would do if she didn’t have the animals.
“She tries to act strong, but she’s miserable. She misses him. Not just him, but the little things. She misses pinochle. They would play pinochle at night. It was their way of winding down.”
“That's so sad. Can you imagine being married for forty-four years and then one day the person's just gone?”
His eyes remained riveted to the road as he pulled into the parking garage a city block down from the restaurant. He parked and jumped out of the car. Allison unbuckled her seatbelt and gathered her purse. She reached for the door handle, but Adam was already opening the door.
He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
With the heavy conversation behind them, she noticed the romance of the situation. Romance? Ugh. She didn’t want to feel romance with Adam Byrnes. Of course, sex with Adam Byrnes wasn’t the same as romance but—no, just, no. Been there, done that. Burned the shirt. They dodged a sexual bullet today. If a ransacked condo didn’t prove their incompatibility, she didn’t know what did.
Tonight was dinner with a friend. A friend who would leave. A friend who could break her heart if she let him. Thank goodness she was too smart to let him do that again.
After walking through the crisp fall night to the illuminated restaurant, Adam opened the door to the spicy aroma of New Orleans and the fast tempo of zydeco music. The smell of paprika and hot sauce filled the air, transporting diners to the bayou. Dark oak tables and chairs were dispersed throughout the rustically decorated establishment. Southern-inspired art adorned the golden walls. Beads and garlands in deep purple, green, and yellow hung from the intricate chandeliers.
Allison smiled. Her father had always said that Zydeco lived up to its name. He would adopt his best southern drawl and tell her, “In one step, dahlin’, you go from downtown Chicagee to N’awlins. ’Tis the best of both worlds my little gris-gris.” He had always been convinced she was his gris-gris, or good luck charm.
She had stopped feeling like a good luck charm the night he died. A true good luck charm wouldn’t have let that happen. He hadn’t lived long enough to find out she didn’t bring him luck. Luck or no luck, her chest warmed at the thought that he believed she brought him some kind of good fortune.
“So what’s good here?” Adam asked as they were seated at a table.
“It’s all good. You might want to avoid the burning-hot chicken if you’re afraid of spice. They tend to lay it on a bit thick.”
“Afraid? I have no fear,” he scoffed as the waitress approached the table.
“Evening folks. Welcome. Can I get you something to drink?” The heavy-set waitress smiled, pulling a pen and paper from the pocket of her skirt.
“I’ll have a hurricane and the burning-hot chicken, extra hot.” Allison smiled, and Adam playfully raised his eyebrows.
“Make that two burning-hot chickens, but I’ll have a beer,” Adam told the waitress without taking his eyes off Allison. The stare was fraught with challenge.
She teased, “You might want to bring him a pitcher of water.”
His green eyes twinkled with defiance. He ran his hand through his sexily- disheveled hair and picked up the glass of water sitting in front of him.
She felt her insides melt with every glimmer in his eye. She fought an urge to reach across the table and jump him in front of the restaurant full of patrons. She mentally slapped herself. Get a grip! This was a friendly dinner. Friends. Remember. Tonight would not end in an empty bed. Not again. She needed to get involved with him like she needed a noose of Mardi Gras beads.
Fortunately, if she remembered correctly, he was a wimp in the spice department. He had once cried while eating a taco with a few slashes of hot sauce. Granted, he had been a teenager at the time, so his manly taste buds might have developed over the years. Maybe spicy hot sauce no longer reduced the strong, virile man to whimpering like a child.
If everything worked according to plan, he would be too busy dealing with the heat from the burning-hot chicken for her to worry about anything sexual happening tonight. God bless capsaicin.
* * *
Adam tried to smile while he fought back tears. A gallon of air slid past his lips as he tried to squelch the inferno blazing through his taste buds. He was convinced bursts of steam were shooting from his ears, like in the cartoons. The sweat trickled down the back of his shirt. Who would have thought chicken could be so damned hot? He glanced at Allison as he took another gulp of water.
She scooped another bite of fire-mix into her mouth. The hurricane in front of her was untouched. However, her eyes were not watering, nor was sweat flowing down her brow. He wiped his lip. Dammit. Some big strong man he turned out to be.
The waitress stopped at their table, her eyes wide. “Are you okay? Can I get you some milk or more water?” She pointed at the empty pitcher sitting on the table.
Somehow, through the fire shooting up his nose and the numbness overwhelming his tongue, he managed to croak out, “I’m fine.”
Allison laughed. “A glass of milk would help. Thanks.”
As the waitress walked away, Adam gave in to the heat and guzzled the rest of the water. He took a few breaths through his mouth and ripped the glass of milk out of the returning waitress’s hand. She managed to stifle a giggle as he drank down the tall glass.
He used his napkin to wipe the tears from his eyes. Allison took another bite. “How can you possibly eat that without it affecting you?” He croaked.
“I love the heat. It feels good.” She smiled. “Plus, I’m not such a lightweight.” “Apparently not.” He grimaced and threw his napkin on the table. “I, unfortunately, am said lightweight.”
“Do you want to order something else?” Allison asked.
“No. I think my mouth is scorched to oblivion. There’s nothing going in my mouth but liquid.” He pounded the remainder of the milk.
She took a sip of her hurricane. A sip. He was so going to have to hand over his man-card.
“That’s unfortunate.” She stared at him over the rim of the glass.
Adam’s green eyes stared. Was she flirting? Please be flirting. What he wouldn’t give to get her naked in his bed once again. Her soft skin and willing body—shit.
He poured another glass of water and drank. This time it wasn’t to cool his charred tongue. This time it was to cool his firing libido from thinking about what he’d like to do to her with that tongue.
The waitress approached the table. “Can I get you anything else?” “No, thanks. I am officially done.” He laughed.
“I’ll leave this with you then.” She placed the bill on the table and whisked away the plates.
Allison reached into her purse and took out her wallet. She went to snatch the bill, but Adam got there first. There was no way he’d let her pay for dinner.
“So how much do I owe?” She played with the clasp on her wallet.
“I got this.” He held the bill in one hand and reached across the ta
ble to steal her water with the other. After all, she wasn’t using it and his mouth was still blazing.
He could practically hear the war being waged in her mind as her narrow stare bored a hole in him. The argument over why she couldn’t let him pay for dinner was obviously on the tip of her tongue. He could tell she wanted to fight with him, but for some reason she stopped and shrugged her shoulders before dumping her wallet back in her purse. “Okay. Thanks for dinner.”
She took out her phone, and he saw Brook’s name on the screen before she put the phone to her ear. After a few seconds, Allison sighed. Brook must not have answered.
“Are you ready to head out?” He asked as she tapped the end button on her phone. She stared at the dark screen, sighing again, and nodded.
They strolled out of the restaurant and made their way through the crowded streets of Chicago. Allison periodically checked her phone, worry etched across her brow. They walked in silence—Adam’s mind was miles away, as well. He couldn’t stop thinking about the condo break-in.
Who could have broken in? Why? What if they were looking for Allison? What if they didn’t stop at the condo? He couldn’t take her to her apartment. That would be the first place someone would look. He wasn’t even sure she would be safe at her sister’s, but he knew Brook’s Oak Park home had a good alarm system. He’d given Brook the recommendation when she’d asked him.
Although, his father’s condo had an alarm and that didn’t stop this guy. The only way he’d be sure she was safe was to watch her. He would never sleep if he was worrying about her.
He couldn’t leave her alone tonight. If she went to her sister’s, he would either stay in the house or sit outside the house in the car. He’d sat through his share of stakeouts, and this was no different. However, if she couldn’t get through to her sister, maybe she could stay with him at the hotel. No one would think to look there. Then again, talking Allison into going back to his hotel was going to take an act of God.
As they entered the parking garage, he pressed the button and the rental car chirped to life. He opened door and waited for Allison to slide into the passenger seat before he closed the door. He walked to his side and angled into the small car.
“Where are you taking me?” Allison asked, with another frown at the blank screen of her phone.
“To my place. Since you can’t get ahold of Brook, you might as well stay at the hotel. The Mallord Hotel is closer to your car and the condo, anyway.” He focused on driving, and waited for the yelling to ensue. He knew a night with him wasn’t on her top ten things to do. But hell, it was just one night.
“Okay,” she said as they made their way to the hotel.
He had all the reasons why she needed to come with him lined up in his mind. He was ready to beg, borrow, or appeal for her to come with him, to make sure she was safe tonight. Yet, he didn’t have to say a word.
She must have been more scared then she let on, because somehow he managed to dodge two arguments with her in one night.
Chapter Nine
Allison stood against the wall, nervously biting her lip as Adam slid the key card through the reader on the hotel room door. The lock clicked, and he pushed the door open so she could walk across the threshold first.
She didn’t want to be here. There was way too much temptation standing next to her. At this point, though, she had little choice. She’d tried to reach her sister several times in the car, to no avail.
The only other option was to suck it up and go home to her empty apartment. Her quiet, solitary apartment. A sigh escaped her as she thought about her desolate home, with all of its creaks, groans, and scrapes. It was an old building, and although she loved the charm, the noises caused by the historic structure expanding and contracting could be a little disheartening. Logic told her everything was fine. But once she was alone, she knew logic would not intervene and her head would spin as she heard things go bump in the night. Each bump would inspire a vision of murderous muggers roaming through the apartment, stealing anything not nailed down.
Adam took off his shoes and placed his watch on the nightstand. One night with Adam was not going to be that big of a deal.
She focused her attention on the room before her, and inwardly groaned at the lone king bed against one wall and the light-blue couch against the other. An evening of couching it. Ick.
She shook her head to ward off the self-pity. Her chin rose with conviction as she steeled her spine. She could do this. She could be in the same room with Adam and keep her hands to herself. Who knew if he even wanted her hands near him?
Pain stabbed through her as she remembered the deserted feeling from when he’d left the last time. She’d never felt so used and abused in her life. She’d loved him before their night together. That night, she honestly thought they were starting something good, something real. She’d been practically picking out their china pattern in her sleep. How stupid could she have been? Her chest ached and tears threatened to fall down her cheeks.
Stop! she scolded.
Fire brewed in her stomach as rage slithered down her spine. How could she have let this jackass of a man have this much control? She swore she’d never let him have this much power over her again.
Good. This was better. Anger felt like a good fit, considering the other option was fear, or sadness.
She yanked the bedspread and a pillow from the bed and stomped over to the couch. She tossed the linens down.
“What are you doing?” He sounded confused. “I’m getting my bed ready for the night.” “Allison,” he sighed, “you can sleep in the bed.” “I’m not sleeping with you.”
“I’m not asking you to have sex with me. I’m offering to share a bed with you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, as his eyes closed. “I’ll even sleep on the couch, if it would make you more comfortable.” Consideration and frustration oozed from every word.
She ignored the twinge in her heart at his thoughtfulness. Jackass. Remember he’s a jackass.
“No, Adam. I’ll sleep on the couch. This is your room.”
“We’re adults, Allison.” His voice rose, anger swirling through his eyes. “We can share a bed without it leading to anything.”
Of course he could. Bastard. She beat the pillow and snapped the quilt across the cushions. The anger built as she thought about those words. Of course he could keep his hands to himself. Heaven help her, if she kept thinking—believing—they might have some sort of relationship. Her heart would split in two under the strain. She would crack from the pressure of just wanting one more night with him. And she knew he would take that night if she offered, and abandon her in the morning.
“I’ll sleep here”—she pointed to the couch and then jabbed her fists onto her hips—“or I’ll get my own room.”
The thought of her own room frightened her, but she would not budge on this. She glared, readying herself for the impending battle. Adam stared at her, making no move of opposition. He just watched, and stared, and gazed…
“What?” She couldn’t take it anymore. It unnerved her how he seemed to stare right through to her soul. Like all her thoughts were there for him to see. She blew her bangs from her eyes, trying to block whatever he thought he saw.
“Fine.” He grabbed a T-shirt and sleep pants from the dresser. He tossed them on the bed and nodded. “These have a drawstring, so they should fit if you want to get out of your work clothes. And there should be a spare travel toothbrush on the counter. I always pack two in case I drop one.”
Allison reached for the garments as guilt overwhelmed her. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.”
Allison nodded and made her way across the room, closing the bathroom door just as the valve burst. Tears pooled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. What had she gotten herself into?
* * *
Adam pulled back his shirt and unzipped his pants. He rolled his shoulders, sucking a deep breath into his chest. The woman drove him nuts. He had to admit sharing a bed would have been d
ifficult, but he would have dealt with it. They were adults.
Granted, they were adults with a sexual past, a very good, very hot, sexual past, but he was positive they could handle this. That was a long time ago. His thoughts drifted back to that night—the arch of her back, the pucker of her perfect breasts, the taste of her lips. It was the hottest night he’d had in a while. Hell, the memory still burned in his brain.
Damn, maybe they shouldn’t share a bed.
So much had happened that night. He’d regretted walking out on her from the moment he snuck out the door, but he was… shit. Being with her had stirred up something he had never experienced before. He’d known from the moment they started kissing he was in deep. He’d also known if he let himself stick around he’d never leave.
But he had to.
The Phoenix Police Department had just made him Detective. Even though he hadn’t thought he deserved it, his partner, Tony, had. And Adam couldn’t let Tony down, not after everything he’d sacrificed.
Adam’s only option had been to get his butt back to his life in Phoenix. He never would have asked Allison to move to Phoenix. She loved Chicago. Her sister was here, his parents were here, her life had always been here.
So, he’d done the most logical thing. He’d run like a coward. Looking back…
Damn. She deserved so much better than anything he could offer.
He found a pair of black cotton lounge pants and slipped them on. He stared at the bed. She was absolutely right. Sharing a bed was a horrible idea. But he’d feel like such a heel if he let her sleep on the couch. He looked at the crude bed she created with the thick comforter and contemplated jumping under the covers.
Unfortunately, she would probably try to push him off the damn couch, he thought, sliding a T-shirt over his head. He laughed as he set his travel alarm clock. “I’d like to see her try.”
Who was he kidding? He would let her push him to the floor. Why even bother starting the fight, when it could be worse? She might leave, and he liked having her around, even if she’d made it clear that sleeping with him was a fate worse than death.
Second Time's the Charm Page 8