Adam and Violet had gone out to the deck. Adrienne joined them, and he handed her a glass of wine, a cabernet sauvignon Vic knew she particularly liked. “You’d think Vic planned for us to share it,” she said.
“One never knows with Ambassador Scarlatti.”
They exchanged cheers and a clink of glasses, and she took one sip before she knew what was going to happen. Not that she’d planned it, or Adam had planned it. But she knew. And just like that, she was in his arms, his body as warm and taut as she’d anticipated, his mouth descending to hers as he whispered could he kiss her...
Yeah. Of course.
Had she said those words aloud?
Yes...she had. No question.
The taste of his mouth on hers, the feel of the strong muscles in his back as she held him and the surge of a thousand different sensations got her in their grip. She shut her eyes and let herself take in the kiss and all its possibilities.
Violet barked.
And Vic called hello from the back door.
Adam grinned. “Just like in the movies.” He didn’t look even slightly embarrassed. He touched a thumb to her lips. “To be continued.”
Adrienne managed to nod as Adam called to let Vic know they were on the deck. Rohan bounded up the steps, Vic following him at a slower pace. The two golden retrievers charged from one end of the deck to the other. Vic grinned at them and then noticed the wineglasses on the table. “Starting early, I see.”
“It’s not that early,” Adam said lightly. “Can I pour you a glass?”
“I’d love it.”
Oblivious, Adrienne thought, amused—and relieved.
Adam got a third glass from inside and brought it out to the deck. “Here you go, Vic.”
Vic winked at Adrienne. “See why I like having Adam here?”
She did, indeed. “How was Elly’s?”
“We picked the last of the tomatoes. I suppose it’s too late in the season for me to get a farmer’s tan. She was preoccupied. Ruby is coming home from Hollywood after Christmas. She and Ava are cooking up plans again, none of which include raising goats and canning tomatoes. Elly can’t keep up.”
“The O’Dunns are never bored, are they?”
“Not a chance. Better too much on your plate than not knowing what to do with yourself because there’s nothing to do.” Vic studied Adrienne a moment. “Did you go swimming?”
She smiled. “I did.”
“Dear heavens. Did you freeze?”
“Only a little. Adam and his nephews got in the water, too. He picked them up after school and brought them to the inn, and then...” Too much explaining. Vic would see right through it. “Swimming, kayaking, fishing, playing Scrabble, writing your memoirs. You have the life, Vic.”
“What if I live another thirty years?”
“You can write a fresh set of memoirs.”
He didn’t seem convinced. He shifted the conversation to the wine and how much he enjoyed his new wine cellar, especially when he had company. He seldom drank alone. Then Rohan surged past him down the steps, and Vic set down his glass. “He’s going to be in the lake until midnight if I don’t stop him.”
“Won’t he come if you call him?” Adrienne asked.
“No.”
“Rohan,” Adam called. “Up here. Now.”
Vic shrugged. “Worth a shot.”
Adam had Violet sit next to him before she could chase after the puppy. “They got each other wired.” He whistled. “Rohan, come!” He grinned at Adrienne and Vic. “Who knows, it might work. Why don’t you call him, Vic?”
He made a face and walked to the top of the stairs. Just as he started to call the puppy, Rohan burst up the stairs past him onto the deck and raced straight to Violet. Vic laughed. “Figures. I’ll get him back to the house.”
“I’ll go with you,” Adrienne said, then turned to Adam. “Thanks for the wine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sure thing. I’ll finish work on the wall.”
Vic snapped a leash on Rohan’s collar, and Adrienne followed them down the steps. “I have to remember it gets dark earlier,” Vic said.
“Yeah.”
“You okay?”
She nodded. “Sure. I’m glad Adam’s at the guesthouse. It’s good you’re not up here alone all the time. You have friends in town, and Elly’s close by, but still.” She took a breath. “I won’t screw things up for you here, Vic. I promise.”
“You don’t have to promise. Just live your life.”
“I’m not intruding by being here?”
“No.”
He didn’t hesitate and spoke with such decisiveness that Adrienne had nowhere to go with his response. Her mother was more concerned about her screwing up Vic’s life than Vic was. Was that why she’d never told him they had a daughter together? Or had she just not wanted to risk Vic screwing up her life? But the anger and resentment didn’t feel right anymore, or even justified.
“Adrienne?”
She smiled. “It’s easy to get lost in thought with this beautiful lake air.”
He hooked his arm into hers. “It is,” he said.
Rohan walked easily on Vic’s opposite side, and when they reached the main house, Adrienne turned down his invitation to join him for dinner. “I’ve got some work to do tonight,” she said.
“Be careful you don’t let flexible hours become always hours.”
“I will. Have a good night, Vic.”
“You, too.”
She got in the car, touched her lips and felt the lingering effects of Adam’s kiss. She didn’t regret it, but she meant what she’d said to Vic.
Best she get out of here. Go back to Carriage Hill and make her pesto.
* * *
Justin surprised Adam by clomping up the deck steps as dusk settled in. Adam could tell his older brother had something on his mind. Justin helped himself to a beer out of the refrigerator and sighed at the empty wineglasses. “You know what you’re getting into at Carriage Hill, right?”
Adam shrugged. “A stonework job that’s almost done. Briars. Grapevines.”
“With Adrienne.”
“Our accidental innkeeper.”
“Vic Scarlatti’s long-lost daughter who played games with that fact last winter. She was pretty messed up then. She doesn’t stick anywhere. You’re a steady guy, Adam. You want that kind of drama in your life?”
“She’d say you have a point.”
“You?”
“I appreciate the concern. Where’s your pirate expert tonight?”
Meaning adventurer Samantha Bennett hadn’t been an obvious match for solid Justin Sloan, either.
Or he for her.
A muscle in Justin’s jaw worked. “I’ll mind my own business.”
“Glad you’re looking after me, big brother.”
“Yeah, I bet you are.” Justin grinned, but his expression quickly turned serious again. “Think Eric admitting he and Trish split helped?”
“He seemed okay at breakfast.”
“Yeah, I guess. Takes time to get past a broken engagement, I imagine. He knows how to find us if he wants to talk.”
A Sloan talk about his emotions? Ten to one Eric would finally get drunk, throw a few glasses at the wall and put his ex-fiancée and the life they weren’t going to have together behind him. Maybe he’d done that already and was just focusing on his job.
Either way, he and Justin had said all they were going to say about Sloan brother romantic lives. “Do you like pesto?” Adam asked.
“What? Have I had pesto?”
“It’s that stuff with basil, Parmesan, pine nuts and olive oil.”
“Yeah. I’ve had it. That’s the stuff Maggie freezes in ice-cube trays and drops in soups and sauces when she comes to family dinners. You’re not making pesto, are you?�
��
“Adrienne is. She mentioned it after our swim.”
Justin gritted his teeth but stopped himself from blurting whatever had come to his mind. He drank some of his beer. “She knows wine. She probably can handle a batch of pesto. Just warn her the basil could have ants.”
“She’s getting used to New England wildlife.”
“At least familiar with it. Where do you fit in with our New England wildlife?”
“Ha.”
Justin didn’t let it go. “Does she see you more as an annoying ant or a rabid bobcat?”
“Maybe a cute little rabbit.”
“Ants and bobcats aren’t on a dinner menu. Rabbits could be. Might keep that in mind.”
“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you, Justin?”
“Immensely,” he said, finishing his beer. He set the bottle on the table. “See you around, brother. Adrienne’s attractive, I’ll say that, and she’s off to a great start at Carriage Hill. She’ll be busy through foliage season.”
“Just as well?”
“You said it, not me.”
Twelve
Adrienne dug out an index card with a pesto recipe Olivia had jotted herself, in purple ink in her artistic penmanship. The recipe called for mashing fresh basil with a mortar and pestle. Adrienne figured she was out of luck on that one and would have to use the food processor, but she noticed Olivia had written “lower cupboard” in parentheses.
“Worth a shot.”
She placed the recipe faceup on the butcher-block island and started opening cupboards. Sure enough, she discovered an old-fashioned, well-used mortar and pestle in the back of the lower cupboard next to the refrigerator. Making pesto with a food processor would be quick and easy, but she loved the idea of using a traditional mortar and pestle. Olivia must have, too.
And it would be the perfect activity after kissing Adam Sloan out on Echo Lake.
Adrienne washed the mortar and pestle and got out the basil. She rinsed it and dried it, keeping an eye out for ants and tiny spiders. She didn’t spot anything she wouldn’t want in the pesto. It was dark outside now, cool enough that she shut the windows and had a hard time imagining she’d gone swimming earlier. Likely their near-nakedness had affected Adam. No question it had affected her.
If not for Vic and Rohan, would they have gone further?
No point going down that particular road.
The pesto was simple enough to make and filled the kitchen with the homey, delicious scent of fresh basil, pine nuts, olive oil and Parmesan cheese. Adrienne had enough ingredients to make three batches. She froze two of them in ice-cube trays, per the suggestion in the recipe. She let them firm up while she cleaned up her pesto-making mess and then popped the cubes out of the trays into freezer bags.
“Presto, pesto,” she said cheerfully, shutting the freezer door.
Working with her hands and getting a tangible result—pesto, not letting the fresh basil go to waste—helped settle her down after her impulsive trip to the lake. Swimming, kissing the local stonemason. Almost getting caught by Vic and Rohan. Would that have mattered so much? But she knew it would have, at least to her. She didn’t always think things through. For the most part, her seat-of-the-pants approach led to positive things in her life. Adventures, friends, even income. Being here, though...
“I can’t screw it up.”
That night, of course, she had luscious, erotic dreams involving water, damp skin, hard muscles and such.
When Adam appeared at the kitchen door the next morning, she almost melted. She’d already downed half a pot of coffee, two scrambled eggs with fresh herbs and two slices of toast with Maggie’s impossibly delicious strawberry jam, and now, three hours later, it was almost lunchtime and she still hadn’t shaken off her dreams.
Adam smiled at her. “Morning.”
Adrienne peeled off her apron—one of Olivia’s, emblazoned with chickens—and tossed it on the back of a chair. “Come in. Hello. Welcome.” Why was she so awkward? But she knew why. “I just cleaned up the breakfast dishes. I wasn’t in the mood to do them earlier. What can I do for you?”
He pushed open the door and stepped into the kitchen. He wore close-fitting jeans and a canvas shirt in a deep shade of blue that matched his eyes. He peered at the pesto on the counter that she hadn’t frozen. “Any plans for this?”
“I thought I’d throw some into a bit of pasta for lunch.”
“Sounds good.”
“You’re welcome to join me.” The invitation was out before she could stop herself. “I picked up fresh pasta at the country store yesterday,” she added quickly. “I’ll make enough for dinner, too, but I’ll still have more than I can or should eat. I can always put some into a container for you to take home.”
“I’d like that,” he said. “To join you, I mean.”
She realized she’d kept talking after she’d invited him. She wanted his company at lunch, but she was all tingly and on edge again, being around him. It wasn’t just the last echoes of her dreams, either. “But you’re not here about pasta and pesto. Did you need to ask me something?”
“Justin mentioned we need to check the lights in the closet in the downstairs suite. I said I’d take a look.”
“I know the light you mean. It’s balky. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t.”
“That’s the one.”
Adrienne wiped her hands on a towel. “I’ll go with you.”
His gaze rested on her for a half beat longer than she felt was necessary. “I can wait if that’s better for you.”
“Now’s fine. You’re not intruding. I didn’t leave a trail of slinky lingerie.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
Adrienne bit down on her lower lip. “I really should curb my tendency to blurt out whatever I think.”
His eyes sparked with humor. “Don’t on my account.”
“My mouth is as restless as the rest of me, I guess. Oh...well...” Why had she brought up lingerie and being restless? “Let’s have a look at the balky light.”
She spun out of the kitchen and led him to the suite. She moved through her morning routines quickly, but she tended to be tidy, making her bed, putting away clean clothes, tossing dirty clothes in a small hamper.
She pulled open the closet door. She noticed a single hiking sock on the floor. She could live with that. She stepped back. “I’ll leave you to it. I’ll see what else is in the garden for our pasta.”
She returned to the kitchen and dashed out through the mudroom into the garden, welcoming the cool breeze. The next few days promised to be pleasant but not as warm. Maggie and Olivia had tucked vegetable plants here and there, and Adrienne managed to find a summer squash, carrots and spinach, all slowly succumbing to the end of southern New England’s short growing season. She loaded the veggies into her arms, feeling more composed, less agitated about her dreams and having Adam here.
He was in the kitchen when she went back inside. She dumped the vegetables in the sink. “What’s the verdict? Can you fix the light yourself, or do you need to wait for Justin?”
“Already fixed it,” Adam said with an amused smile and his usual equanimity.
“Oh. Well, that was fast. Great, thanks.”
“Would you like a hand with the vegetables?”
“Don’t you have to work on the wall?”
He opened a drawer and withdrew a paring knife. “Wall’s done. We can look at it later.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll wash, you start chopping?”
He smiled. “Will do.”
They got busy washing, chopping and then sautéing the fresh vegetables. Adrienne dug a pot out of a cupboard and filled it with water. She turned off the faucet, and Adam lifted the pot out of the sink and set it on the stove, turning on the gas burner. While water came to a boil, they went outside so he could get her appr
oval on the wall.
“It looks great to me,” she said. He’d tidied up, raked the disturbed ground and reseeded any bare patches. “It’s amazing how seamless everything is here with the new addition, the yard and now the wall.”
“Good planning on Maggie and Olivia’s part.”
“And execution on Sloan & Sons’ part, too.” She ran her fingertips along the top of the waist-high wall. “I have a hard time picturing whoever built this wall the first time. Do you think most of the stones are from nearby fields?”
He shook his head. “It’s quarried stone. It matches stone used in several buildings in the village.”
“Imagine following that trail,” she said, fascinated by the idea. “I love the history here. Anyway, yes, the wall has my stamp of approval. If you need Maggie or Olivia to approve—”
“They’re good with whatever you say.”
Obviously approval wasn’t a concern for him. He trusted himself and his work.
They went back inside and added the whole-wheat linguine to the boiling water. Since it was fresh, the pasta only needed a couple of minutes before it was ready. Adrienne placed a colander in the sink and Adam drained the pasta while she got out plates.
Pasta, veggies and a healthy dollop of the freshly-made pesto, and they were good to go.
It was cool but not too cool to have their lunch out on the terrace. “Take every opportunity while we can,” Adam said.
“It was already winter when I started house-sitting for Vic last year.”
“Must have been a shock after California.”
“I’d been in New York, so not too bad.”
“How’d you like New York?”
“It didn’t stick.”
“Leave behind an ex-boyfriend?”
“Mercifully, yes. I liked Knights Bridge, but I was—” She hesitated, aware of that stonemason focus of his, that penetrating, blue-eyed gaze, as if he could see straight to her soul. “I wasn’t in a good place.”
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