by Cindy Kirk
His father was a romantic who wanted Adam to find someone special to marry—and give him grandchildren.
No matter how many times Adam told his dad that he wasn’t in any hurry to get married—the complete truth—his father remained resolute.
When Adam spotted Charlotte in the town square, her once dark brown hair now a sunny gold, the spark that should have faded long ago, the spark Adam assumed had dissipated, reignited. With that mass of blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes, the gorgeous salon owner was striking indeed. But when you tossed in red shorts on long, toned legs and a scooped-neck white tank covered in blue stars, the result had fireworks exploding in his chest.
He should have been able to resist the temptation to draw close, but he couldn’t stop himself. This wasn’t just any beautiful woman. This was someone he’d seen naked. Someone he’d tasted, touched, pleasured.
Even though that had been several years ago, his body remembered.
Adam watched Izzie work on Charlotte’s caricature. Then he watched Charlotte watching him. He’d held out little hope of anything happening between them tonight when he’d seen her earlier with a friend.
He’d met Piper, owner of Swoon, a fashion and bridal boutique, at several local singles activities. Adam attended the events more to support the organizers than anything else, since he was already acquainted with most of the single women in the area.
Piper was nice. She was intelligent and interesting. She also gave off mixed signals—one signal spoke of want, while another had a keep-your-distance vibe.
He’d kept his distance. Since he wasn’t attracted to her, it didn’t matter enough for him to evaluate the situation any closer.
“Adam. Congrats on the pitching. You were magnificent.”
He pulled his gaze from Charlotte. The smile he offered the blonde who’d approached came easy. “Vanessa.”
“It’s good to see you.” Adam pulled her in for a quick hug. “Bright blue suits you.”
Adam considered Vanessa Eden, owner of the Garden of Eden nurseries and a past lover, a close friend. Though in her mid-fifties, Van could easily pass for someone ten years younger. They’d dated for a time several years back and had parted ways amicably.
“Thank you.” She smoothed a hand down the front of the sleeveless summer dress. Only then did he notice the girl’s hand tightly clasped in hers.
The child’s strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back in a tail tied with a huge sparkly bow. Chubby legs peeked out from under the hem of a bright red dress.
“Who’s this with you?” He crouched down in front of the child. “I’m Adam. What’s your name?”
Instead of answering, the girl turned away and lifted her arms to Vanessa.
Vanessa hefted her up as Adam stood.
The girl’s face was now buried in Vanessa’s neck.
“This is my granddaughter, Adelyn.” Vanessa gave the girl’s curly tail a tug. “Max and Prim’s youngest.”
Adam shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s hard for me to think of you as a grandmother.”
Adelyn whispered something in Vanessa’s ear.
“I know I promised.” Vanessa chuckled. “And they say elephants never forget. It’s snow cone time. It was good seeing you. Don’t be such a stranger. Stop by the garden center. We’ll catch up.”
He brushed his lips across her cheek. “I’ll do that.”
When they walked off, the child finally smiled and waved good-bye.
“I love the way this turned out.” Izzie sat back in her chair.
Adam looked at Charlotte’s image. Despite the exaggerated features common in caricatures, it was clearly Charlotte. Izzie had sketched the talented hairstylist as an avenging angel with styling shears and a blow dryer.
“Amazing.” Adam rocked back on his heels. “You captured her spirit perfectly.”
“Are you done?” Charlotte called out, rising to her feet. “Can I see it now?”
“We’re done.” Izzie picked up a pencil. “I just need to sign it.”
Before Izzie had even finished signing the portrait, Charlotte crossed to them. As Adam had done only a moment before, Charlotte cocked her head and studied the image.
Her smile came hot and fast. She whirled toward Izzie. “I love it.”
“Caricatures are fun.” Izzie glanced at a woman waiting patiently with a baby in her arms. “I’ll be right with you.”
Charlotte dug money out of her purse and handed Izzie a folded bill. “Thank you. Please keep the change.”
“Thanks.” Izzie stuffed the money into a cash drawer. “In case you’re interested, I’m donating all the proceeds from tonight to the Alley Arts Project.”
“I don’t believe I know that one.” Charlotte gave a little laugh. “Then again, I’m not well versed in all the Good Hope programs.”
“We use the walls of buildings, the ones facing alleys, as canvases. I did the one on the side of the Bayshore Hotel. We’ve brought in local and national artists to do some others.”
“That’s fabulous. If there’s ever anything I can do to help, other than paint,” Charlotte flashed a smile, “let me know.”
“Thanks, Charlotte.” Izzie turned toward Adam. “Stellar pitching. Tell Stan hello.”
With the good-byes completed, Izzie turned to her next customer with a smile.
Adam fell into step beside Charlotte. “It’s been a long time.”
“Three years.”
“Now you’re back.”
“I’m back.”
“For good?”
She considered, then shrugged. “Who can ever know for certain?”
That same restless energy had been there the last time she’d been in Good Hope. Charlotte had big city written all over her.
Perhaps that’s why he was with her now. He could give in to his attraction without worrying about hidden expectations. Despite being thirty-seven and feeling pressure from all sides to “settle down,” Adam was satisfied with his life.
That could change tomorrow or next week or next year. But right now, he wasn’t seized with an urgency to find “the one”—if that woman even existed. As an organic farmer, this was his busy season. He didn’t have time for a relationship.
Adam gave her shoulder a bump. “Where are we headed?”
Charlotte stopped on the sidewalk at the edge of the square. A smile had her rosy lips tilting upward. “We?”
Adam pointed to her, then back to himself. “You and me equal we.”
She gave a toss of her head that had blonde hair rippling down her back. “That’s lame.”
“That’s me.”
“You’re not lame.” She chuckled and looped her arm through his. “You’re wily.”
“You’re just as beautiful as you were three years ago.”
Those vivid blue eyes turned skeptical. “Hey.”
He lifted his hands. “A guy known for being lame doesn’t lie.”
She laughed. “This is exactly how I remember you being that night.”
Adam didn’t ask her to specify what night. With them, there had been only one night. He hadn’t forgotten it. Apparently, neither had Charlotte.
“Charming as well as lame?”
Cocking her head, she studied him for a long moment. As their gazes locked for those few seconds, it felt the way it had back then. So unexpectedly fun and easy. Everything else faded into the background.
“Walk with me up to my apartment,” she said finally, holding the caricature and breaking the connection. “I don’t want to carry this around all night.”
Would she be interested in spending the evening with him since her friend had left? Adam didn’t ask. Either it would happen, or it wouldn’t. He was a great believer in taking things as they came.
For now, he was enjoying her company. That was enough.
Her apartment was a one-bedroom unit over Blooms Bake Shop. They entered via a door in the back. Despite all the activity on Main Street, this area was deserted.
<
br /> Adam glanced around while Charlotte fumbled with the lock.
“Do you ever feel unsafe?” He thought about how easy it would be for someone to sneak up behind her.
“Got it.” She glanced back in surprise as the door swung open. “Unsafe?”
He followed her into the narrow vestibule, making sure the door caught and locked behind them. No reason to give someone an invitation to explore the inside.
“In Good Hope?” She shot him a disbelieving look, then started up the stairs. “Get real.”
“When I was about six, my mom and I lived in a small town.” He spoke to her backside as they climbed the steps, trying to push the unwanted memories aside so he could enjoy the view. “Our house was on the main drag, just down from the business district. If you could call a bar and a post office the business district.”
“Sounds like a great place.”
“It was okay.” The memories of that night pushed against him. “There was no sidewalk, only a ditch in front of our house. The road was narrow, so she always parked around back. It was really dark.”
Charlotte reached the top of the stairs and unlocked this door without difficulty.
Adam stepped inside after her, his story forgotten. “This is nice.”
Although small, the apartment had an open floor plan. From where he stood, he could practically see the whole space.
The galley kitchen had a small, white lacquer dinette table with multicolored flowers painted across the top. The bright yellow of the kitchen wall matched the color of the flowers on the white curtains, which were held back from the window with fork tiebacks.
The floor was a shiny hardwood and the living room furniture made for comfort. Off to the right was a hallway that he assumed led to a bedroom and bath.
Charlotte carefully placed the caricature on the kitchen table, then turned in a semicircle as if seeing the place for the first time. “Good enough for now.”
The comment didn’t do justice to the apartment, but he let it go. His place, a rambling farmhouse that had once been described by a woman he’d dated as “shabby chic,” suited him just fine. Though he and Stan both liked a clean and well-kept house, their home was one where you felt okay about putting your feet up after a long day.
“Tell me the rest of the story.” Charlotte stepped to him, the light scent of her perfume wrapping around him. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
The perfume might be light and fresh, but her voice had that sultry edge that spoke of tangled sheets and sweat-soaked bodies. Or maybe that was just him resurrecting memories that might be best left buried. Of her and him and—
“Adam.”
The punch to his bicep had him blinking. “What?”
“You were telling me about when you and your mom lived in a small town.”
“Oh, it’s not that interesting. My mom worked evenings at the bar just a couple of doors down from where we lived. We didn’t have much money, and a sitter would have been hard to find, so I stayed home alone while she worked.”
“You said you were six.”
“I was.” The shocked look in her eyes had him adding, “I was a very responsible child.”
“Still—”
“Anyway, my mom came home one night.” Adam cut Charlotte off, not giving her a chance to voice her disapproval. “She’d closed up the place, so it was later than usual.”
Charlotte touched his arm. “I sense something bad coming.”
“A guy who’d been at the bar had followed her home. I heard her screaming.”
Her mouth formed a perfect O.
“Don’t worry. This story has a happy ending.” Despite his outward calm, he felt his heart pick up speed. “My baseball bat was by the back door. I hit him with it.”
“Did you hurt him?”
“I was six,” he reminded her. “A kindergartner hitting a man in the ribs with a bat doesn’t pack the wallop of someone older. The hit kept him down long enough for the police to come and haul him away.”
“All’s well that ends well,” she said lightly.
Adam nodded. “My mom thought living in a small town would be better for me. I could have a yard to play in, and she talked about getting me a bike. While rent was cheaper, jobs were limited, and she could only find part-time work. Not to mention there wasn’t much of a night life. After this incident, we moved back to the city.”
“Were you sad you had to move?”
Adam shook his head. “I didn’t care. We moved a lot. I never got too attached to anywhere I lived.”
Thankfully, when his mother had married Stan, all that had changed. Stan might technically be his stepdad but he was the only father Adam had ever known.
Laughter drifted up from the street. He shifted from one foot to the other. “Interested in watching the fireworks with me?”
She expelled a sultry sigh. “If we watch the fireworks together, the whole town will be gossiping about us tomorrow morning.”
“You don’t strike me as someone who’d let a little gossip stop you from going after what you want.”
“You’re right. As long as we know what works for us and what the other person needs, that’s all that matters.” She smiled and stepped closer. “Sometimes I think you are the only person in this town who gets me at all. How is that possible?”
“I don’t know, but we are definitely on the same page.” He brushed a strand of hair back from her cheek with the tip of one finger.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she slid her fingers into his hair. “The last time you and I were together, the fireworks were pretty spectacular.”
She tilted her head back to gaze into his eyes. He saw his own desire reflected in the blue depths.
When she moistened her cherry-red lips with the tip of her tongue, his mouth went dry.
Flattening his palm against the small of her back, Adam drew her up against the length of his body. She was soft in all the right places, and the feel of her against him set off the opening flare.
Her lips parted at his unmistakable hardness. It was the invitation he needed, and he closed his mouth over hers.
Adam continued pressing his lips lightly to hers, teasingly, his mouth never pulling away.
“You’re just as enticing as I remember.” She planted a kiss at the base of his neck, her lips warm and moist against his skin.
“You’re just as incredible.” Adam ran his tongue along her bottom lip, and she opened to him. He explored her warm and moist mouth, her breathy moans lighting the fuse on the fireworks to come.
She kissed him back, and the kisses turned urgent and fevered. Her blue eyes darkened to black in the dim light.
A smoldering heat engulfed him. Anticipation built as the taste and feel of her wrapped around his senses. He normally enjoyed this foreplay nearly as much as the act itself.
But his pulse had become a swift, tripping beat, almost brutal in its force. He wrapped a strand of hair around his finger. “The bedroom or the couch?”
Dazed and breathing hard, she took two long seconds to respond. “Bedroom.”
As if to seal the deal, she caught his mouth in a hard kiss, then took his hand and pulled him down the hall. She laughed, a lighthearted, breathless sound.
Once they reached the bedroom, he barely noticed the four- poster iron bed covered with some fancy duvet and frilly pillows. What he did notice was wooden blinds open to a view of Main Street. He flicked them closed, then moved back to Charlotte.
When he bent his head to kiss her, she stepped back, lifting a finger.
“Do you have condoms?”
Adam muttered a curse. For the past couple of years, he’d dated only women who were past the point of needing to worry about birth control. None of them had been active sexually for years, so he hadn’t worried about disease.
In fact, Charlotte was the last woman he’d been with where he’d needed condoms for protection.
“You’re not on the Pill?” he asked. “Because I’m clean.”
“I do, too.” Adam pulled out his wallet, surprised to see his fingers trembled slightly. “I’ve got one. The expiration date has worn off.” He narrowed his gaze, but couldn’t figure out the date.
She lifted it from his fingers and set it on the bedside table. “I’m sure it’s okay.”
Heat shimmered in the air as his eyes locked with hers. “There’s only one.”
“One will be enough.”
Adam couldn’t see how, not with the way she made him feel. Not with the vibration of desire that assailed him simply by thinking about making love to her. Did she have any idea the power that she had over him?
Without warning, she tugged her shirt off over her head. Her bra was a wisp of red lace that clasped in the front.
He swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. But when he reached out, she stepped back.
“I took off one clothing item. Now it’s your turn.”
Adam had to smile. He understood how this game was usually played. As much as he liked playing, he decided to bypass the preliminaries.
He stepped to her, opened the clasp with a flick of his fingers and smiled when her breasts tumbled free. “We’ll save the games for later.”
Chapter Three
Once had not been enough.
Charlotte stretched in her empty bed and smiled. Sex with Adam had been better than she remembered. He was forceful, yet gentle, and determined to show her a good time.
Mission accomplished in spectacular fashion.
The best part, Charlotte thought, as she rose and stretched again, was there were no expectations. No uncertainty over whether he would want to see her again. No concerns about feelings that went beyond the immediate.
They both took last night for what it was—two people enjoying some magnificent sex, all the while knowing it wouldn’t happen again. Neither of them was interested in more, which made for a practically perfect night.
