He gulped more beer to cover it.
She moved in closer beside him, close enough he could smell her cherry scent and shampoo again. Close enough that if he reached out, he could pull Mel between his legs, draw her head closer for the kiss he’d been dying to give her all day. The side of her breast brushed his arm, and Adam nearly choked on his tongue.
Mel tilted her head and squinted at him. “Are you okay? You got awfully quiet.”
“Lots on my mind. Garage stuff.” He lied through his teeth. “I really should go.”
He rose and stepped gingerly around her, careful not to make any more bodily contact.
“Guess I’ll see you next time,” she said, one eyebrow raised. “You’ll call me, right?”
“Right.” He made a beeline for the front door. Somewhere between the clothes and the shoes and the lunch and the lust that afternoon, he’d agreed to take her out to one of the clubs he and the guys frequented in Indy. Why? He couldn’t say, but he blamed the pheromone-fueled fog in his brain that worsened whenever Mel was around.
He’d almost reached the front door and freedom when that cat of hers crossed his path, twining about his ankles and nearly tripping him. Adam caught himself against the wall and did his best to disentangle himself from the frisky feline.
Mel bent and picked up her cat, kissing its head, then cuddling it under her chin.
Lucky cat.
“I’ll call you, I promise,” he said, one hand on the doorknob.
“I’ll be waiting. As usual.” She sounded so forlorn, his heart caved.
Unable to stop himself, Adam slipped his fingers beneath Mel’s chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. She inhaled at his touch, drawing his attention to the rise and fall of her chest in that slinky blue top. Before he could rethink his actions, Adam leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, so lightly they were hardly there at all. Mel’s mouth moved beneath his, sweet and soft, just like he imagined, and he drew back before he couldn’t any more.
“Talk to you soon,” Adam said, then rushed out into the warm summer night.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Mel’s nerves were shot. As she stood behind the circulation desk at Point Beacon Public Library going over the list of books she needed to pull that day for storage to make room for the new titles coming in, she pasted on a smile and vowed to get through it. Even if her new outfit felt like a big arrow pointing her out for all to see.
Truthfully, other than a few side glances from her elderly volunteers, no one had made a comment about her new clothing choices. Then again, most of the patrons that day were too focused on getting to their small genealogy section before it filled to capacity. Seemed tracing one’s family tree was a hot new trend in Point Beacon. Most people went online to search, but these patrons were all from the retirement center across town, and Mel doubted they had the technology resources in their community.
Besides, she was determined to see her plan through and prove to herself and Adam she could do this. Head high and shoulders back, she moved out from behind the desk and headed over to the nonfiction section to locate a biography on James Dean an internet patron had put a hold on for future pickup.
Speaking of future pickups…
Each time she closed her eyes, she could still feel Adam’s lips on hers, his breath warm, the taste of mint and desire from the brief flick of his tongue on her mouth. Talk about the stuff fantasies were made of. In all her years of pining for the guy, nothing beat the first real thing. That moment, surrounded by his scent—soap and sandalwood and a hint of that unique, wonderful Adam smell—and she’d felt like she was flying, so high in the clouds she’d lost touch with reality.
But reality had returned once Adam bolted through the door. To him, the kiss had been a mistake, an error in judgment, him taking advantage of his best friend’s little sister.
Until she could prove to him otherwise, she’d have to tread lightly.
She tugged at the hem of her new fitted black top, then crouched to pull the biography from the bottom shelf. Even she had to admit the black pants she’d worn, which she’d also bought at the boutique, made life much easier. Normally, in her skirts, these simple movements took her forever. Mel couldn’t say exactly why she hadn’t switched earlier, other than she’d been caught in a rut of her own making. Sure, she loved comfy clothes that were easy to put together to make work-appropriate outfits, but there was a whole new universe of cute, fun items out there she hadn’t experienced until she’d shopped with Adam. Perhaps it was time to stop sticking to the status quo so much.
Book in hand, she straightened and glimpsed her reflection in the glass front of a memorabilia case lining the wall nearby. For a moment she did a double take. She’d made her first attempt at re-creating Marguerite’s genius on her hair that morning, and though it wasn’t quite as perfect as it had been in the salon, it still looked pretty darned good. Her makeup, too. She’d applied with a light hand, as the stylist had suggested, and she looked well rested and refreshed, if not Vogue cover-worthy.
Which was good, since she’d slept like crap last night.
Kissing the man of your dreams only to have him flee afterward did that to a girl.
Mel headed back to the circulation desk as the automatic doors near the entrance swished open, signaling a new arrival. In walked her mother, carrying an armload of library books Mel suspected were overdue.
“Morning, dear.” Audrey Bryant dumped her load on the desktop, then straightened her purse on her shoulder. “We missed you at game night.”
“Sorry,” Mel said, averting her gaze as she stacked the items her mother had returned. She spent some Friday evenings at her parents’ house, playing board games and sharing the trials and tribulations of her week. Last night she’d been with Adam. She shook her head and grabbed another tome to scan back into the library’s inventory. “I had to go out of town yesterday and didn’t get back until later.”
“Really?” Her mom’s voice perked up. “Conference?”
“No. I took a personal day.” Not the whole truth, but not a lie, either.
“And you got your hair cut!” The words echoed in the quiet library and drew the attention—and scowls—of several nearby senior citizens. Her mom bit her lip and cringed, her smile conciliatory. “Sorry, dear. But it’s been so long, and I love it! The highlights really suit your skin tone. Good for you.”
“Thanks.” Heat prickled Mel’s cheeks as she moved to put the books in the bin on the other side of the circular-shaped desk. Surprisingly, none of them were overdue. The Bryant clan weren’t known for their excellent timing.
“It was fun,” Mel said. “We went to Indy and I got my hair done, got a few makeup tips. Even went shopping.”
“I see that.” Her mom grinned. “You and Lilly?”
“Uh, yeah.” Mel’s skin prickled from the lie, but she could hardly tell her mother the truth at this point. It would ruin everything.
Of a similar height and weight to her daughter, Audrey Bryant was a force to be reckoned with around Point Beacon. Along with Mel’s father, Bud, they were the cool parents every kid wished they’d had. Well, as long as you weren’t their own child. James and Mel had their fair share of rules and chores and reprimands growing up. In their household, her parents ran a tight ship. In counseling their kids’ friends, they were the kindly adults, giving great life advice and encouragement through the rough waters of adolescence and early adulthood.
Mel had always balked when Lilly told her how lucky she was to have parents like Audrey and Bud. Mel loved her mom and dad. Loved James, too, but that wasn’t the issue. Sometimes people were too close to see what was right in front of them. At least that seemed to be the problem in her case, by Mel’s estimation. James had always been the star, the perfect older brother who could do no wrong. Mel had been cast as the nerdy kid sister with bad taste in fashion and even worse taste in men.
The day her mother had guessed Mel’s crush on Adam—like it hadn’t been
obvious, given the way she’d followed him around and made googly eyes every time he came in the room—she’d laughed and patted her daughter on the back. “Sweetie, he’s not the guy for you. Trust me, someday you’ll marry a nice, safe man like I did your dad and have lots of smart, sweet babies together.”
Except Mel didn’t want nice and safe. Mel wanted Adam Foster.
With a passion that burned hotter every day.
“Funny. I ran into Lilly earlier at the grocery store, and she didn’t mention anything.” Her mom snorted, the same way Mel did. Genetics. “Anyway, I came to remind you of dinner tomorrow.”
Mel wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or insulted her mom assumed she’d be there. She decided to go with the former at this point. “What time?”
“One. As usual.” Her mom glanced through a pile of returned books stacked up near the overnight slot. “Guess who else I ran into at the store?”
The question, innocent enough on its own, sent a spike of apprehension though Mel. She swallowed hard as she scanned in the bar code for the requested James Dean biography and typed in the reserved date beside the requesting patron’s name on her computer screen. “Who?”
“Adam Foster. I’ve been meaning to stop in Victory Vets since he came back to town, but it’s been so crazy volunteering for the town art council. Time got away from me. Anyway, I told him to come over for dinner tomorrow.”
Mel’s heart skipped. “What did he say?”
“He tried to get out of it, of course. But then I mentioned James would be calling in as he usually does, and that he’d been asking about Adam. I also told him I’d be serving the pot roast he loves so much. That’s what finally convinced him, I think.” Her mom leaned in and patted Mel’s hand, her smile kind. “He said he can’t wait to see you. I wonder if he’s dating anyone. I should set him up with that nice gal from the diner who just moved to town a few months back. What do you think?”
“I think you should let Adam decide who he wants to date,” Mel said, the words stilted. It felt like a vise squeezed her chest, tighter by the second. “I appreciate you returning the books, Mom.” Mel gathered up the bin of returns, then backed away slowly. “But I really need to get back to work. I’ve got the weekly book club in this afternoon, and I need to prepare my question-and-answer section. Then I’ve got the discussion group to lead tonight for the history club. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
Her mom gave her an odd look, but took the hint, thank goodness.
“Fine, dear.” Her mother turned on her heel and headed back toward the entrance. “See you then. It’ll be fun.”
Fun.
Not exactly the first word that popped into Mel’s mind when she thought about sitting through a family dinner beside the man she was trying to seduce. In fact, all sorts of nightmare scenarios ran through her head. What if Adam lost it and blurted out their little plan in front of her parents? What if James picked up something weird between them during his phone call on Sunday, because her brother had always had a sixth sense where she was concerned? What if she couldn’t control herself and ended up kissing Adam silly on her parents’ sofa?
Ugh. The horrific thoughts continued to plague her the rest of the day and all through the night, raising her stress levels to unbearable by the time Sunday rolled around. She stood before her closet, unable to make even a simple decision on what to wear for dinner.
She tried on the jeans and blue top, then quickly discarded them. A reminder of her brief kiss with Adam, followed by him running for the hills. Probably not a wise choice. Next, she considered wearing the black top and pants from the day before again. But that quickly joined her growing pile of rejects atop the bed. Much too fussy and businesslike. And the last thing she wanted was for Adam to think she was wearing some kind of armor around him. She wanted him to feel welcome and relaxed, not like he had to prepare for a proverbial battle.
C’mon, Mel. It’s just Sunday dinner.
With Adam.
She’d eaten meals with the guy a million times growing up, but back then she hadn’t had so much at stake. Even knowing how spooked he’d been by their brief kiss, Mel had to admit she liked having him notice her, and she craved more of his attention. Sundays were usually casual in her parents’ household, just like every other day, and she’d never seen Adam in anything other than jeans and black T-shirts during their time together anyway.
Mel eyed the blue top and jeans again, remembering the way his eyes had practically bugged out of his head when she’d emerged from the dressing room in the boutique. How little beads of sweat had glistened on his forehead and the way he’d swallowed hard as his gaze had traveled over every inch of her.
It was a risk. One she was willing to take?
Hell. Yes.
After rehanging the rest of the clothes she’d pulled out, Mel tugged on the jeans and slinky blue top, checking out the reflection of her butt in her full-length mirror. Still fit her like a second skin. Still made her feel sexy.
Outfit decided, she headed to the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. A quick glance at the clock showed it was noon. One hour to finish getting ready, then get over to her parents’ house for an afternoon of food, fun, and flirting. One more chance to break through those barriers around Adam’s heart and perhaps get a repeat of that kiss from the other night.
…
Adam rolled his stiff neck to relieve the kink that had developed there, most likely because he’d spent the majority of the meal glancing at Mel, who sat to his right. She’d worn that blue top again, and he couldn’t keep his gaze from straying to her, no matter how much food he shoveled into his mouth as a distraction.
Mel stood and reached for her empty plate. Seemed everyone else had finished eating a while ago. Adam didn’t care. He loved Mrs. Bryant’s pot roast. And he liked looking at Mel in that new outfit of hers. He wasn’t ready for her to leave yet.
“Can you pass me the mashed potatoes, Mel?” he asked, trying to stall her.
She raised a brow and glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Aren’t you full yet?”
Yes. “No.”
“Here.” Mel handed him the bowl as the cell phone near the center of the table rang. Had to be James. Late as usual. Mr. Bryant answered, putting the call on speakerphone. Adam swallowed his potatoes without tasting them, his focus split between Mel’s curves and the fact that his best friend was calling in from half a world away.
“Hey, big bro,” Mel said, blowing a kiss to her brother.
That made Adam feel like more of an ass than he already did, because he’d do just about anything to have Mel blow him kisses like that, too, even though he had no business wishing that. Sure, she seemed happy enough to see him today, but this dinner had still been awkward as hell, with their little secret looming over him. There was no way he could’ve turned down the invitation, though. Not without raising more red flags. So there he sat, with James on the line and the sinking feeling things were only bound to get worse.
“There’s somebody else here, too, James,” Mrs. Bryant said, winking at Adam.
“Hey, bro,” Adam said, past his constricted vocal cords. “How’s the army treating you?”
“Dude! Same old, same old.” James’s smile was evident through the phone line. “Miss seeing you around the base. How’s business?”
“Miss you, too, bro.” Adam pushed his plate away at last. “Business is brisk. Victory Vets picks up new customers every day. Jag and Miguel and Hollywood say hello.”
“Tell them I said hi back.” James chuckled. “Scarfing down my mom’s pot roast?”
“You know it.” Adam rubbed his full belly. “Had thirds and fourths in your honor.”
Mel was still busy cleaning up the table. She leaned past Adam to grab the butter dish, and their shoulders bumped. Her uneasy chuckle, combined with the searing look she gave Adam, only served to intensify the tension crackling between them. God, why had he kissed her Friday night? That had been a stupid rookie move. He knew be
tter than to play with fire. And fire was definitely flaring on both their parts. More like an inferno, if the sexy look she just gave him was any indication. Man, she’d responded so perfectly to his kiss, too, all warm and yielding.
To Adam’s shock, Mel leaned in to whisper near his ear, “You sure you’ve had enough?”
Time froze as he stared into the depths of her pretty eyes, the flecks of gold brighter than starlight. Hypnotic, infinitely seductive. The rattle of glasses from the other side of the table jarred him from his erotic thoughts.
Get a grip, man.
Mrs. Bryant was helping clear the table while she regaled her son with stories from Point Beacon, including his sister’s miraculous makeover. “Seriously, James. You won’t recognize Mel when you get back. She looks like she walked out of some fashion magazine or something.”
“Yeah?” James snorted. “Good for you, sis. I’m glad you joined the twenty-first century. Just don’t go to the other extreme.”
Mel’s cheeks flushed pink, and she tugged the neckline of her blue shirt higher. “It’s fine. I just updated a few things. And since when did you become the fashion police? I don’t tell you how to dress, James. I’d appreciate the same courtesy.”
“You tell him, kiddo. She looks great.” Mr. Bryant beamed at his daughter, and Adam didn’t think he’d ever liked the guy more in his life. That was saying something, considering Bud Bryant was like the father Adam had never had. “She reminds me more and more of your mom every day.”
“Hey, as long as my baby sis is happy,” James said.
Adam swallowed hard, staring down at his hands. He wondered if James would be so gracious if he found out Adam was in serious lust with his sister.
Restless, he listened in on the conversations around him. Over the years, these Sunday dinners had been the highlight of his miserable week. There was always lots of talk and laughs, good food and the feeling of a real home, so different from where he came from. The only place young Adam had imagined a world like that actually existed was in those cheesy sitcoms on TV. But James and his parents had proved it was real. Too bad it would all be gone if Adam gave in to his desperate wants where Mel was concerned.
How to Seduce a Bad Boy Page 8
