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Where She Belongs (Destiny Falls) Page 5
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“Now, Thelma.” Adam’s voice held a friendly warning.
“Well, it’s true. In fact, Wendy has so little talent for bush work that she finally convinced Adam to let her off the hook. Cooked him a wonderful meal to thank him for it, too. And, you know, this boy hasn’t called her since? Wendy was willing to offer another meal or two, but Adam?” Thelma clucked her tongue. “You work too hard, sweetie. It’s admirable, but it ain’t no way to make babies. Don’t you think your mom and dad would love it if you gave them a little grandchild someday?”
Adam’s ears reddened. “I’ll keep that in mind, Thelma. Thank you, as always, for the entertaining chat.”
“Bye, now.” Thelma waved before greeting her next customer.
Or victim, depending on one’s perspective. Jess’s mouth curved.
Adam shot her a glance. “You’re not smiling, are you?”
“Never.” She held back her laughter until they left the store. Then it spilled out, releasing the tension she’d bottled all morning. Oh, it felt so good to laugh again.
Adam pushed the shopping cart beside her, the wheels scrunching the stones that were scattered in the parking lot. “You think Thelma’s pretty funny, huh?”
“I’ll admit, you took it well.” Jess crossed her arms against the brisk breeze.
“She means no harm. Wendy’s the youngest of four daughters. Thelma wants her to get married, and she becomes carried away in the encouragement department sometimes.”
“Thelma wants you to marry Wendy?” Jess wouldn’t doubt it. With his thick shock of dark blond hair, that sexy scar cutting across one eyebrow, and the muscular build evident beneath his denim jacket, Adam Wright exuded a masculine, hometown charm.
Definite son-in-law material, anyway.
“Thelma wants anyone to marry Wendy,” he said with a grin.
They reached the SUV. He opened the cargo door and began transferring grocery bags. “But Wendy’s only twenty-one. That’s ten years between us—not my thing. And she’s certainly not ready to settle down, no matter what Thelma thinks.” He glanced at her. “Can I ask you something now?”
“Sure.”
“Who’s Danny?”
Chapter Four
AS SOON AS he asked the question, Adam wished he could retract it. A moment ago, Jess had been laughing. Now her gaze lowered, face sobering.
“Someone.” A halting tone shadowed her voice.
No kidding. “And not my business, I take it.” Molly had never mentioned a Danny Galloway. Why not? “Forget it. I shouldn’t have asked.” He’d give anything to see Jess smile again. That soft, slow smile that lit her entire face.
“It’s okay.” She glanced up. “I’m the one who should apologize, Adam. You’ve done so much for my mother and me. But, Danny... it’s...”
“Personal. I get it.”
She nodded, sadness dulling her gaze. Because of her mother? This Danny? One thing was certain. Adam wouldn’t ask. For several agonizing months after he’d found Crysta living in a grungy Vancouver apartment and she’d coldly relayed what had happened, burying pain had been his trademark. He knew how it felt to want to keep hurt hidden.
He placed the last grocery bag in the truck. Jess toed a cluster of pebbles. “I should go inside and wait for Mom.”
“I’ll return the cart. I won’t be long.”
“Thank you. We’ll be here.”
She disappeared into the insurance office, the bell above the door tinkling. He’d leave her alone for now, give her some space. He’d rather stay, but he’d go.
But, hell, the urge to discover what made her tick drove through him.
He wanted his mind free of her. Needed his fill of her.
He wanted to know her secrets
Pete’s old car rumbled behind Jess, and she turned from tidying the workbench in her mother’s detached garage. She couldn’t imagine touching Peter Olson’s things when he was alive. However, now her cleaning spree represented one less task to leave to her grieving mother. Besides, she’d needed to muster her composure while Adam drove the car for thirty minutes to retain the charge. Her response when he’d asked about Danny this morning embarrassed her. Losing the love of her life at eighteen had been devastating, but nine years had passed. There was no excuse for her rudeness.
Adam parked the forest-green car beside his burgundy SUV. As he climbed out, she handed him his wrapped jumper cables in exchange for the keys.
“How’s the battery?” she asked.
“Good now, I think.” He walked around the big hood of the car and stowed the cables in his truck. “Hopefully your mom won’t leave the headlights on again. Old batteries drain easily. If it happens, let me know. I’ll put it on my charger overnight.”
“With a car this old, shouldn’t Pete have had a charger?” They’d located Pete’s dusty jumper cables, but Adam had elected to use his own, newer set.
“Maybe he loaned it to a friend who forgot to return it. Or he planned to buy a new battery, so didn’t feel like he needed one. Pete wouldn’t intentionally leave your mother stranded, Jess.”
Point taken. Pete hadn’t intended to die.
Nodding, she slipped the keys into her pants pocket. “Anything else? The car sounded rough when you left.”
Adam shut the SUV’s door and faced her over the car. The bare bulb hanging from the rafters burned brightly in the late afternoon light, burnishing his dark blond hair. For a moment, her heart raced with the attraction that had caused her dozens of sleepless teenage nights.
“It’s difficult to tell with these classic cars. Pete probably knew all her quirks. I know he planned to finish restoring her. He repaired the body rust when he had her repainted, and the upholstery’s in fantastic shape. The same can’t be said for the transmission. I think your mother’s in for some trouble there.”
Wonderful. “How can you tell it’s the transmission?”
“The ride should feel smooth when an automatic shifts gears, but the tranny clunks, sometimes grinds—not good signs.”
“It’s that bad?”
“It’s a gradual thing, Jess. Part of old age. The engine sounds good, but the tranny’s a separate issue. It could last another few years or tank out tomorrow.” He scratched his jaw. “Do you think your mom would consider buying a new car?”
Jess winced. “I don’t know. Pete loved this old gas guzzler. He had it in storage for ages, then sold their import and started driving it again.” She ran a hand over the long hood of the car. The lingering engine heat suffused her palm. “To ask Mom to part with it now is like asking her to part with a piece of him.”
Adam strode toward her. “A friend of mine’s a good mechanic. He’ll look at it for you.”
“I’ll talk to Mom about it in a couple of days.”
“Don’t put it off. You don’t want her having transmission trouble after you leave.”
“Yes, but there’s no point rushing her into something she isn’t up to handling yet. Isn’t that what you said to me about the grocery shopping this morning?”
“I’m sure you’ll know best when to discuss it with your mom.” His hand settled on the hood, a scant inch from hers. Her fingers twitched. She would not move them and risk making him feel like he carried a contagious disease. “I’d hate to see her stuck without reliable transportation, especially come winter.”
The hot car hood cooked her hand. Specific lower regions of her body warmed up, too—for reasons that had zippy to do with engine heat.
God, what a time to redevelop a teenage crush.
“I will talk to her, Adam.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.” He brushed grime off her sweater sleeve. His gaze lifted to meet hers. “You’re all dirty.” His thumb grazed her cheek, and her skin tingled. This was crazy!
“How did things go with the lawyer?” he asked. “Nora was quiet after the meeting.”
Don’t step back, she ordered herself. Don’t relay how much his touch affects you. “She needed
time alone, um, to pull herself together. She’s doing better now, though. A friend dropped by to see her this afternoon. That helped.”
Adam’s faded-denim gaze pinned her in place. “The meeting went well?”
She shrugged. “Pete left her in a good position financially. The house and land were paid off before she married him, and he had life insurance. If she wanted to buy a new car, she could. I’d be willing to help her out, too, of course.”
“Of course.” He seemed to lean toward her slightly. Or she toward him? Awareness of him licked at her nerve-endings like a constant, low-burning flame.
“Would you like to stay for dinner? Mom wanted me to ask.” A lie. The question had popped out. “Molly brought over a casserole while you were gone. It’s heating in the oven. She and Mom are showing the horses to the kids,” she stupidly tacked on. Her rambling betrayed her nerves, which was silly. She’d had relationships with other men since Danny. She could deal with this unwelcome attraction to Adam.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asked softly.
“Um...”
“I’m trying to be honest here, Jess. You’re in town for six weeks—that’s a fair while. I could keep my distance. However, the more I think about it, the more I realize I don’t want to. I’d like to see you while you’re here.”
“You mean as in dating?”
“If that’s what you want to call it. Although there aren’t many places in Destiny Falls I could take you on a formal date.”
Then what did he have in mind? A hook-up? “Well, I don’t sleep around.”
He laughed. “That’s gratifying to hear, because I wouldn’t dream of sharing you.” The scent of his aftershave floated to her, a heady mixture of moss and musk. “I was thinking more along the lines of getting to know each other better, one on one. However, if you’d like, we could always discuss our sleeping habits later.”
Her face burned. Now he knew the thought of having sex with him had crossed her mind. She wanted to crawl beneath the car and hide.
“Is there someone in Toronto?” he asked.
Say yes. “No, but—”
“Think about it for a few days. I’ll catch you on the weekend.”
“You’re not staying for dinner?” Her mother would be crushed.
“Can’t. Remember that big contract I mentioned Friday? I’m initiating some silviculture surveys up past Valemount tomorrow. They’re of the same nature, though smaller and less intensive. It’s another opportunity to show what MountainTop can do, so I’m leaving tonight.”
“Silviculture?”
“Textbook definition—the growing and tending of trees. We’re doing mainly survival assessments of blocks planted three years ago.”
“How long does starting the contract take?”
“Two or three days. Why, miss me already?”
She smiled. “No.”
“Hm, I’d better not touch that one. I doubt the old ego could take it.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. As he drew back, his gaze moved over her face. No longer teasing, but serious, seductive, searching.
Instinctively, her lips parted. Adam must have read an answer in the tiny movement, because in the next instant his mouth covered hers. A soft gasp rose in her throat and merged with his low moan of approval.
The horses’ whinnies drifted to her ears. Then Molly’s voice, calling instructions to her children. Not as distant as the horses, but growing louder. Near the garage’s open side door—
Jess broke the kiss, stepping back.
A few seconds later, Molly breezed in. “You two finished?”
“Not by a long shot,” Adam murmured, his gaze trained on Jess.
A sensual shiver scooted up her spine. She looked at Molly. “Hi. Where’s Mom?”
“Making lemonade with the kids. How’s the car?”
“Battery’s charged,” Adam replied, glancing at his watch. “I have to go.” He smiled at Jess. “Take care, and remember what I said about the transmission.” He walked around the car and climbed into his truck, then opened the window and revved the engine.
“Are you leaving for Valemount right away?” Jess asked.
“As soon as I get Sheba.”
She rubbed her neck beneath her hair. “Thanks for helping with the car.”
“No problem.” His gaze rested on her, then shifted to Molly. “Catch you later, Cuz.”
“’Bye.” To Molly’s credit, she remained quiet until the SUV spewed a trail of dust down the driveway. Then she grinned at Jess. “Well?”
“What?”
“Come on, Jess, I saw how Adam was looking at you.” Molly’s voice lilted. “My cousin li-ikes you.”
“He barely knows me.”
“True, but if I know him—”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, Moll, but I’m not getting involved with your cousin.” Even if the warmth of his kiss heated her lips like summer.
“Relax, I was kidding.” Molly looped an arm around Jess’s waist, and they strolled to the door. “Are you coming to dinner with Tim and me on Friday?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to Mom about it yet.”
“I mentioned it to her. I hope you don’t mind. She thinks it’s a good idea.”
“She does?” Friday would mark two weeks since Pete’s heart attack. Death milestones were excruciating.
Molly nodded. “Thelma Matthews called. She wants to visit your mom, and Friday’s the only night she can. Besides, you’re never in town for Tim’s and my anniversary. You were my maid of honor. You have to come.”
“But shouldn’t a wedding anniversary be a private celebration?” Jess flipped off the light and followed Molly outside.
“We will be alone, after dinner. Tim’s parents are taking the kids overnight. We want you there, as one of our guests. An evening without rug rats—it’ll be fun.”
Jess smiled. “You’re persistent.”
“Family trait.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to Mom. If it’s all right with her and if Thelma’s here, I’ll come.”
“Great. That’ll make four, counting Adam. He and Tim are best friends.” Molly lifted a hand to shade her eyes from the sun. “Is that okay? We asked him before, you know...”
Pete died. “Um, sure. Whatever you want, Moll.” No big deal.
She was attending for Molly and Tim. Nothing to do with Adam.
Jess dreamt about Adam that night. Wednesday and Thursday nights, too. Wild dreams. Hot dreams. Fantastically erotic.
Waking Friday, her skin damp between her breasts, she attributed the dreams to an advanced case of stress-deprivation. In Toronto, work swamped her to the point that she rarely dreamed about anything but budgets and sales analyses and endless samples of women’s shoes. She hadn’t had a proper vacation in years, and the effects were taking their toll. Tension headaches and dissatisfaction were commonplace. However, her concern for her mother aside, these last few restful days in Destiny Falls had helped her realize life didn’t have to feel so taxing. Surely she could succeed at her job without sacrificing her health and relationships.
Her first priority in achieving her objective lay naturally with her mom. When not at her laptop, the sheer pleasure of making up for lost mother-daughter time filled her days.
However, her nights belonged to Adam. Rather, her idea of him. The fantasy. After her torrid dreams, seeing him at the restaurant tonight was bound to feel anti-climactic.
Deciding to shower after breakfast, she tamed her curls with a hair pick and donned her old bathrobe. Downstairs, a framed portrait of Pete on the fireplace mantel caught her eye—his manager’s picture from Waverly Foods. Marie Shaverton from the bakery department had visited yesterday. Had she delivered the portrait to Mom?
Padding to the mantel, Jess gazed at the glossy picture. Pete’s thinning gray-blond hair fluffed across his scalp, and a glint of light refracted off his silver-rimmed glasses. From behind the lenses, his eyes smiled a welcome. As did his mouth.
A since
re smile of greeting for his customers. A gentle glance for the wife he’d cherished. But not once had he bestowed that look of compassion and understanding upon Jess.
Can’t you see what you’re doing to her? His voice, clipped and harsh, punched through layers of memory. Why bother coming home anymore, when all you do is throw up walls around her? Your mother doesn’t need more grief in her life, girlie!
Jess tugged in a breath. “You were right, Pete,” she whispered to the portrait. “Mom didn’t need more hurt in her life. Well, neither did I.”
Nor had she deserved the cold shoulder he’d continually shown her in subtle ways: a snide remark in a pleasant tone when her mom was out of earshot, moving her coat if she mistakenly hung it on his peg. Four Christmases ago, when they’d fought so bitterly, had been the fifth without her dad and Danny. Jess had announced her transfer from Vancouver to Toronto, her new job beginning mid-January. Mom had taken the news poorly. They’d argued, and Pete had stepped in like usual—Mom’s protector. His animosity had chased Jess away days earlier than her time between jobs granted.
Worse, both she and her mom had allowed it to happen.
Never again.
It’s my turn, Pete. You can’t hurt me anymore.
“Jessie?”
She glanced over her shoulder. Her mother stood in the kitchen archway, dressed in cords and a floral top, egg whisk in hand.
“Hi, Mom. Pete looks good here.” Jess’s resentment wilted. It was time to move on.
“Thank you, sweetie. I think so, too.” Her mom smiled. “I’m about to scramble eggs. Would you like to make the toast?”
Adam skipped onto Nora Olson’s front porch, energy and excitement sweeping through him. Talk about a severe bout of spring fever. His attraction to Jess had hit him like a sledgehammer. Now, three days after kissing her, he still saw stars. Working out of town hadn’t diminished his need to learn what drove her, like he’d half-hoped it would.
A woman hadn’t crept under his skin like this in ages. Winning the Jamison Forest Products contract consumed most of his time, so lately his social life blew. Oddly, he hadn’t really missed it. However, while he loved his work, bunking with two other guys in a cramped rental cabin while initiating the silviculture surveys couldn’t compare to the thought of spending an evening in the company of Jess Morgan.