Tempting Adam

by Dorie Graham

  “Hey, Frank,” she greeted the heavyset man. “We thought you’d forgotten us.”

  “Oh, no, ma’am. Got a late start. Had to run the missus downtown.”

  “What have you got for us today?”

  He pulled on his bushy eyebrow. “Usual junk, that package, but at least no bills.”

  Her gaze fell on the parcel. “What’s this?”

  His shoulders shifted in a shrug. “Beats me. No return address.” He heaved his mailbag more securely on his shoulder and backed toward the door. “You have a good one.”

  She nodded, her attention on the mystery package. She turned it over in her hands. It bore a printed label, addressed to her. As Frank had said, the sender hadn’t included a return address.

  Whatever it was, it had a solid feel to it. Anticipation stole over her. Was it another gift from a secret admirer?

  “What’s that?” Elliot’s voice sounded beside her.

  She started, then chastised herself for being jumpy. “Don’t know.”

  He reached around her to scoop up the mail from the desk. “So, open it.”

  For just a split second, she hesitated. Then, with a sigh, she tore at the tape binding the box. She held her breath as she removed the lid. A rectangular gift lay inside, adorned in floral wrap and tied in a satin bow. She lifted it out, then peered inside the empty container. “No card.”

  “Here.” Elliot stooped to pick up a folded sheet of paper that had fallen to the floor. He handed it to her.

  She opened it, then silently read the typed words.

  Let me lie,

  let me die on thy snow-covered bosom,

  I would eat of thy flesh as a delicate fruit,

  I am drunk of its smell, and the scent

  of thy tresses

  Is a flame that devours.

  —George Moore (1852–1933)

  “What’s it say?” Elliot peered over her shoulder.

  She clutched the note to her chest, while heat bloomed in her cheeks. “It’s private.”

  He nodded toward the package in her hand. “You going to open that, or should I leave first?”

  Her gaze fell to the present. “It feels like a book.” She hesitated a moment, then tore away the paper.

  She drew a deep breath as she turned what was indeed a book over in her hands. Rose petals covered the front. Nestled among them stood a pair of wineglasses, candlesticks and a serving dish filled with heart-shaped pastries.

  “The Lovers’ Cookbook: Essential Ingredients to Sensual Evenings,” Elliot read over her shoulder. “Now, who did you say that was from?”

  “I…don’t know.”

  The phone pealed. She started.

  Elliot grabbed the handset. “Entice Advertising, Elliot Star here.”

  Again, his gray eyebrows rose as he glanced at Lauren. “Sure, Adam, she’s right here. We’ve just been opening the mail.”

  She snatched the phone from him with unsteady hands. Had Adam sent the cookbook? Did he truly harbor such a romantic heart? “Hello?”

  “Hey, sunshine. I’m getting ready to cut out of here. Are we on for dinner? I thought I’d push my luck and see if I could convince you to cook up another of your decadent dinners.”

  3

  THE CLOCK STRUCK eleven that evening as Lauren tossed the last flyer onto the stack heaped at one end of her sofa. Her stomach rumbled. Not only had she turned down Adam’s dinner proposition in favor of working some overtime, she’d skipped the meal entirely.

  After staying late at the office, she’d brought home the file on one of their new clients to complete her marketing analysis. Then she’d gone on to ready Bennett’s flyers for the morning mail. She’d meant to keep her mind too busy to jump to conclusions about her latest gift.

  The plan had failed miserably.

  Was Adam her secret admirer? Goose bumps prickled up her arms. She eyed the rose-covered corner of the cookbook peering from beneath the avalanche of flyers. With a shake of her head, she slid the book free.

  The phone on the end table rang. Who was calling at this hour? Her heart skipped a beat as she picked up the handset. “Hello?”

  “Hi, sweetie,” Delores Bryant’s voice greeted her.

  “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Not much. Just wanted to say hello, see how you were doing.”

  Lauren sighed. Her mother’s voice held a note of strain. “Come on. Claire giving you a hard time about paying the bills again?” Delores had some trouble getting her housemate to cover her share of the costs.

  “No, when she postdated her check for the electric bill then went out and bought a new stereo, I stood up to her like you suggested.”

  “Good for you.”

  “She returned the stereo and wrote me a new check.”

  “Great. So what’s the problem?”

  “We’ve got a new district manager.” She managed a children’s clothing store in a local mall.

  “Oh? What happened to old Bernie?”

  “He got transferred.”

  “So, you don’t like the new guy?”

  “He just rubs me the wrong way. He doesn’t like the way we do anything. So we’ve got to redo everything—the way we place orders, the way we handle customers, the way we count down the drawer.”

  “Don’t you have company policies on all those things?”

  “He’s not changing the policies, just the way we follow each procedure, the nitpicky stuff. He’s got his own procedures within the procedures. He’s making everyone crazy.”

  “Well, at least you don’t have to deal with him on a daily basis, right?”

  “I don’t know. Now that the North Point store is picking up so much business, he’s talking about setting up his office here, letting this be his home base. He thinks we have the most potential and wants to help us ‘come into our own.’”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll win him over.”

  “I’m not so sure I want to. Anyway, enough about me. Why are you home on a Friday night?”

  “Mom, don’t start. Besides, I could ask you the same question.”

  “Let me guess. You brought work home over the weekend.”

  Lauren drew a deep breath. “It’d be really nice if you, at least, would support my decision to make something of myself.”

  “Honey, I do. I wish Entice Advertising great success. You know that. I just don’t want you forgetting there’s more to life.”

  “Believe me, between you and Adam, I’m not likely to forget.”

  “So, how’s my number-two son?”

  Lauren paused, considering keeping silent about Adam’s new direction in life. “He’s been acting…different lately.”

  “Really? How so?”

  She frowned. “He’s talking about settling down.”

  A short silence hummed across the line, then Delores said excitedly, “Oh, this is wonderful! It’s about time. I was wondering when he’d come around. He’s always kept his word and I knew he wouldn’t let us down this time. What have you two planned?”

  “I don’t know what he was supposed to keep his word on, but the plan is for us to find him a wife, pretty much the same way we found his house and furniture.”

  “What do you mean, find him a wife?”

  “Well, a serious relationship, anyway. He’s prepared to wait awhile before jumping into marriage.”

  “He wants you to help him find a woman?”

  Lauren’s gaze fell to the cookbook. “You know how he values my opinion. He likes consulting with me on most of his major decisions. Even when some of those are spur-of-the-moment.”

  “Yes, dear, that’s why I always thought… Goodness, I can’t believe I’ve been wrong all along. Tell me, has your relationship changed since he decided all this?”

  “Changed?” Lauren closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the sofa. She’d certainly changed. Seemed suddenly she got all hot and bothered whenever Adam was around.

  “Has he indicated in a
ny way that he might like to share this new experience with…well, with you?”

  Lauren opened her mouth to protest, but Adam’s words echoed through her mind. And you think I’ve never thought of you in that way?

  She sat forward. Was it possible Kamira, Elliot, and now her mother were right? “Mom, why do you ask?”

  “You remember shortly before your father died. I had stayed the night at the hospital and Adam brought you and Rusty by that morning. You had that bunch of azalea blossoms and Rusty went with you to put them in water.”

  “The vase I’d brought was leaking, so I had to track down a new one.”

  “That’s right. While you were gone, your dad had one of his lucid moments and grasped Adam’s hand. He really recognized him for the first time in a long time. Dad was so happy about that. He told Adam how he’d always loved him like a son. I think we were all teary at that point. Anyway, that’s when Adam made that promise.”

  The old ache of losing her father thudded dully in Lauren’s chest. “What promise?”

  “He promised to look after you and care for you. He promised you’d never want for anything.”

  Tenderness welled up inside her. Adam had been all of sixteen at the time. She swallowed past a lump in her throat.

  “That’s incredibly sweet,” she said. “I wish I’d known that, but he has looked after me. We’ve always looked after each other. That’s what friends do.”

  “I don’t know. Something about the way he said it…I took it to mean he intended for your relationship to one day grow into something more. Your father thought so, too. One of the last things he said was that he was sorry he’d miss seeing Adam become an official member of the family. You know, Rusty has always looked up to him, too. I think we’ve all felt that way.”

  “Oh, Mom…I know how much you all love Adam. I can’t imagine how my life would have been without him. I just think that maybe you were jumping to conclusions about this.”

  “But you think it may be possible?” Hope colored her mother’s voice.

  It also stirred in Lauren’s heart. Could it be she wanted Adam to want her that way? “I’m not sure. Maybe…”

  “Has he said anything that might insinuate he’s interested? Maybe he isn’t sure how to go about it with you.”

  “It…it’s possible he’s been trying to tell me, but I’ve been afraid to listen.”

  Lauren smoothed her hand across the cookbook. Her throat tightened. Surely, he didn’t mean for her to fill the role of wife and mother? If only he’d accept there was more than one kind of wife.

  “Well, listen up, darling girl! You’ve got to give him a chance. I’ve always hoped the two of you would get together. I just never said anything because I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll start paying closer attention. If it looks like Adam’s interested, I’ll keep myself open to the possibility.”

  “You do that, dear. I know you won’t be sorry.”

  Lauren’s stomach gave a loud rumble. “I’ll talk to you soon, Mom.”

  “Keep me posted, and tell Adam he should give an old woman a call every now and then.”

  After hanging up, Lauren headed toward the kitchen, cookbook in hand. Was it possible? Could Adam be interested in taking their friendship to the next level? She stood for a long moment, staring at the heart-shaped pastries on the cover before opening the cookbook.

  The book presented two kinds of recipes. The first were for the actual food, which contained an abundance of sauces and creams. The other recipes, which incorporated the first, displayed titles like “Sunday Morning Bubble Bath,” or “Moonlit Picnic for Two,” included explicit instructions on how best to serve each meal. Body parts tended to replace dishes, and fingers silverware.

  Colored photographs showing couples “dishing up” the meals accompanied a number of the entries. Warmth filled her. Had Adam sent the book? Was this the level he wanted to take her to? She closed her eyes and imagined the two of them replacing one of the pictured couples.

  With a lazy motion, Adam drizzled a honey glaze over her breasts, while she offered him a morsel of chicken. He accepted the bite from her fingertips, then bent to lick the glaze from her nipples.

  Her body tensed, as sensual heat filled her. Her nipples tightened and her sex pulsed. If they became lovers, would they remain friends? Could she make love with him, risk losing his friendship forever?

  A kaleidoscope of memories danced over her: a twelve-year-old Adam helping her set up her very first business, a dog-walking service; Adam standing and cheering wildly when she placed fifth in a local teen pageant; and finally, Adam holding her and keeping the world at bay after her father had died and she thought she’d break into a million pieces. He’d kept her together through it all.

  Her heart swelled as realization dawned. All she had to do was convince him that he could be every bit as happy without overcomplicating his life. She could lose him to another woman, or risk losing his friendship, but if she gathered her courage she stood to gain so much more.

  She was ready for the next step. She stood motionless as the possibility shimmered before her. Then she straightened, drawing her shoulders back and lifting her chin.

  “There’s just one thing to do, then.”

  She hugged the book to her front. The future stretched ahead of her, her path crystal clear. Since Adam seemed bent on remaining anonymous, she’d have to let him know of her interest.

  She’d seduce her best friend.

  ADAM’S STOMACH RUMBLED the following morning as he peered hopefully into his refrigerator. He peeled back the cover of a plastic container. “Hmm, what have we here?”

  A fine covering of green coated the remains of some forgotten meal. Wrinkling his nose, he dumped the entire container into the trash.

  Too bad he hadn’t talked Lauren into dinner last night. He’d settled for Chinese takeout, which had done the trick, but hadn’t stuck to his ribs the way one of her hearty meals would have. His stomach continued its protest as he scavenged his pantry to no avail.

  He shoved an old can of anchovies back onto a shelf and straightened. There was only one thing to do. He’d go out for breakfast, and he’d drag Lauren along with him. Frustrating woman had probably skipped dinner last night.

  Shaking his head, he grabbed his car keys. She worked way too hard. If he didn’t intervene, she’d probably waste away to nothing.

  A scant fifteen minutes later, he pulled into her driveway. The maple tree in front scattered its golden leaves as he strode up her walk. He inhaled the early-morning air, crisp with the promise of fall. Bypassing the front door, he headed through a little gate to the backyard. The fountain he’d installed bubbled quietly at the center of a small flower garden. The curtains in Lauren’s bedroom window remained drawn.

  “Stayed up late working, sleepyhead?” he murmured to himself as he searched the ground for a couple of pebbles.

  With a practiced aim, he tossed the pebbles at her upstairs window. After the fifth throw, the curtains moved, then the window slid upward and she peered blearily down at him. “I’m sleeping.”

  The sun caught her tousled hair, turning it a dazzling gold. She looked warm and rumpled and utterly attractive. A soft breeze rustled the thin fabric of her oversize T-shirt, skimming it across the swells of her breasts. He stood rooted in place, those generous curves holding him entranced, until he tore his gaze away.

  “You worked late into the night, didn’t you?” He forced a note of accusation into his voice.

  She spread her arms in a long, languorous stretch, again drawing his gaze to her breasts as they thrust forward in a most enticing way. The open neckline shifted, teasing him with a glimpse of her creamy shoulder.

  His throat tightened. In spite of his long history of taming his libido around her, Lauren’s womanly nature proved impossible to ignore this morning. He couldn’t take his gaze from the clear outline of her erect nipples.

  “Quit nagging.”
She gathered the cotton shirt in her hand, pulling it up to reveal the soft curve of her belly. She rubbed it, running small circles around her navel. “Hmm…my stomach’s empty. If I don’t eat right now, I think I’ll drop. Let’s make breakfast, then you can tell me why you rousted me from my bed.”

  Her bed. He stood speechless. Didn’t she realize her words, not to mention that little gesture, set his mind on a track he made a habit of avoiding? As her hand made another pass, he imagined his tongue following in its wake.

  That he was having this fantasy about Lauren made it all the more intense. Forbidden.

  What would it be like to make love to a woman he actually cared about? Not that he hadn’t cared for any of his previous partners, but he’d never felt the depth of attachment he felt for Lauren with any of them.

  The idea invoked a strange warmth in his chest.

  “Well, if we’re not going to eat, then I’m going back to sleep.” Her lower lip rounded in the sexiest pout he’d ever had the honor of witnessing.

  “Uh, no. Breakfast, I mean, that’s why I came—I’m here…to take you to breakfast.”

  “I don’t feel like going out.” She motioned him toward the back door. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen. We’ll see what we can cook up.”

  Was he imagining that challenge in her gaze? His mind raced with the possibilities. She had been intrigued by the idea of them being more than friends. He hadn’t imagined the awareness in her eyes the other night.

  He stood dazed, staring at the assortment of potted plants gathered by her back door. Then dropping to one knee, he lifted half a dozen of them before finding her door key.

  Seconds later, he stood in her kitchen. His gaze fell on the table where they’d eaten so recently. It suddenly seemed small, intimate. Her footsteps padded down the carpeted stairs. His pulse raced.

  He turned to face her as she entered, still wearing the oversize T-shirt. Rather than conceal her, its loose fit accented her curves with every movement. His gaze traveled below the hemline, down the tantalizing length of her legs. Apparently, she wasn’t wearing much else.