The Rest of My Life

by Sheryl Browne

  ‘And shag a girl in every port,’ Nathaniel muttered behind him.

  Adam turned back. ‘Hopefully,’ he said, eyeing Nathaniel curiously. ‘And your problem is?’

  Nathaniel did it again, that awkward pause that meant he was going to go all holier-than-thou on him. ‘I drink with her husband, Adam,’ he said, blowing out a disgruntled breath.

  ‘Whose? Sally’s? Rebekah’s?’ Adam couldn’t resist, though he’d never actually met anyone called Sally.

  ‘Lisa’s,’ Nathaniel clarified tightly. ‘I socialise with the man. I like him. He’s buying one of my boats. They’ve just commissioned the fit of the interior, him and Lisa, together. I like her!’

  ‘You do? Well, why didn’t you say something? I would have backed off if I’d thought you—’

  ‘Not like that. And you very well know it.’ Nathaniel scowled, his fair-skinned cheeks flushing again.

  Better not provoke him further, Adam decided, their friendship and the two months’ mooring fee he owed him in mind.

  ‘You’re a good looking bastard,’ Nathaniel went on grudgingly, ‘even if you do insist on dressing like a bloody hobo.’ He eyed Adam’s thrown-on choice of attire with a shake of his head.

  ‘All the better to show off my finely-honed physique, Nate,’ Adam joked, tugging his vest over another noticeable scar on his torso.

  Nathaniel ignored him. ‘I just don’t want you hurting anyone or sailing off into the sunset with regrets. You’ll have some someday, you know. There will be a girl sometime whose feelings you wish you’d been more caring of. Why don’t you think about staying put, Adam? You’re a good boat mechanic, skilled. You don’t need to odd job. You could put your skills to use here, rent a property, put down some sort of roots, if only you’d—’

  ‘I don’t want to, Nate,’ Adam said firmly, probably too firmly. Nathaniel’s face fell. ‘I prefer to be a free agent, you know I do. And I don’t hurt anyone,’ he pointed out, less vehemently. Yes, he’d been involved with married women, women whose husbands basically didn’t give a damn about them. Lisa’s, for instance, who made no effort whatsoever to appreciate her. It didn’t make Adam a saint, but making her life a little less lonely didn’t make him a complete bastard either, did it?

  ‘Yes, right.’ Nathaniel didn’t look any more impressed. ‘Whatever.’ He sighed. ‘Just be careful, that’s all.’

  ‘I always am,’ Adam assured him. He did actually care about women, but he couldn’t allow himself to care too much for them, not again.

  ‘Particularly at the farm,’ Nathaniel’s voice now definitely held a warning. ‘Sherry’s husband is not the forgiving sort. He has a shotgun and a licence to use it.’

  Oh. That gave Adam pause for thought.

  ‘Just don’t go making a move on her while you’re odd jobbing there,’ Nathaniel went on, heading past Adam up to the deck. ‘If you’ve got any sense, you’ll—’

  ‘Nathaniel, I have no intention of “making a move” on Sherry.’ Adam pulled his door shut and then leapt the handrail to land on the quayside. Given Nathaniel’s revelation about the shotgun he decided not to mention the fact that Sherry had already made the move.

  ‘Right.’ Nathaniel rolled his eyes and followed him down onto the quay, though rather more carefully. ‘They all chase you, I suppose.’

  ‘I’m obviously irresistible.’ Adam tried a little levity.

  Nathaniel sighed and shook his head. ‘Just practise a bit of restraint, that’s all I ask. There are only so many married women you can bed without causing serious grief somewhere along the line.’ He paused, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow as he sweltered in a long-sleeved shirt and unforgiving temperatures.

  ‘I don’t bed married women,’ Adam said with a sigh, wishing Nathaniel would drop it. ‘Not regularly. I just—’

  ‘Willingly oblige, because it comes with no strings?’ Nathaniel finished shrewdly.

  Adam shrugged evasively.

  ‘It won’t do my business any good, having your body bits splattered all over the marina, you know,’ Nathaniel said, walking on.

  ‘No,’ Adam conceded. ‘Wouldn’t do my body bits a lot of good eith—’

  ‘Tobias!’ Both men looked up as a girl called loudly from the bank.

  Bloody hell. Adam did a double take. It was the girl from the cottage. Innocent-looking and fresh-faced, a radiant smile as she chatted to the punters she served at the pub, seemingly unaware of most of them eyeing her up, Adam had tried hard not to notice her. He couldn’t help but notice her now. She was wearing the shortest of shorts and the skimpiest of bra-affair tops he’d ever seen in his life. It was her hair, though, which she was now wearing loose, that really caught his attention. Red hair flecked gold, tumbling carelessly down her back, it was stunning. She was stunning. Barefoot, with tanned long legs, she was undeniably attractive. Definitely his type, he might once have confided to Nate – as he had when he’d first met Emily. She’d been barefoot too, he recalled the image vividly, fishing from the side of a boat with her father. Pretty hopelessly it turned out. She hadn’t had a hook on her line, because she hadn’t wanted to hurt the fish. She’d caught him that day, the day he’d learned to smile again after his mother had gone. Emily had been his first love. His last love, too, as far as Adam was concerned.

  ‘Tobias, here boy!’ the girl called tearfully again, now peering out over the water.

  She was precariously close to the edge of the bank, Adam realised. ‘Dog, do you reckon?’ he asked Nathaniel.

  ‘Well, she has got one.’ Nathaniel furrowed his brow and glanced around. ‘It’s such an ancient old thing, though, I can’t imagine it’s gone—’

  Nathaniel’s speculations were cut short by a suspicious heavy splosh, followed by an ear-piercing scream that had Adam’s heart racing. ‘Shit,’ he muttered, glancing quickly from the water to the girl, who looked about ready to jump in.

  ‘Tobias! Help! He can’t swim!’ she screamed, now hanging onto one of the boats and dangling a foot towards the water.

  Hell, she was going in. ‘Stay there!’ Adam shouted. ‘That water’s twenty feet deep!’ And ice cold, he thought grimly, setting off at a sprint.

  Clambering onto the deck of a moored boat, he dived from the starboard side, giving himself enough clearance not to get crushed between bows and sterns as boats bobbed together on the surface. He was braced when he hit the water, but still the freezing temperature paralysed him. Move, he instructed himself, his whole body juddering from the inside out. Surfacing, he trod water, blinked the rank stuff out of his eyes and spat it out of his mouth. Where was the dog? Scanning the water, he saw no sign of anything moving. He turned full circle. There! Adam spotted it three boats along, not much more than its head visible and hazardously close to two large vessels. If the dog drifted in between them it would stand no chance. Kicking back hard, Adam swam towards the dog and made a lunge for the animal which was now very close to going under, and frantic, judging by the whites of its eyes. Adam was feeling pretty frantic himself, with trainers like deadweights on his feet.

  ‘Come on. Good boy,’ he coaxed, swallowing another lungful of foul tasting water, and then, seizing the dog’s collar and somehow managing to keep its snout and himself above water, he waited while Nathaniel used his bodyweight to hold two boats off.

  ‘Now!’ Nathaniel shouted, gesturing him forwards.

  Adam took a breath and went for it, manoeuvring himself, plus dog, precariously through the gap between the boats and back to the bank.

  The dog safe on the quay with one of the boat owners’ assistance – no doubt he was an animal lover, because he certainly didn’t waste any energy helping Adam – Adam heaved himself out, shook his dripping hands, for what good that could do, and then watched as the girl dropped to her knees. Careless of the shower of freezing cold water it shook all over her, and its manically lapping tongue, she embraced the bedraggled animal heartily, planting a kiss on its sopping wet head, before getting to her feet to
take Adam by surprise and squeeze him into an enthusiastic hug. An extremely enthusiastic hug, which was way too close, given what she was barely wearing.

  ‘Our hero,’ Nathaniel said, giving him a look somewhere between ‘well done’ and ‘that was close’, as the girl finally pulled wetly away from him.

  ‘He is a hero,’ she agreed wholeheartedly. ‘He absolutely is. Thank you.’ She smiled, blinking innocently at him, leaving Adam feeling definitely off kilter. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am. Tobias is my whole life. I would have just died if—’

  ‘So you let him run loose in a marina and he can’t swim?’ He dragged a hand through his dripping hair, his expression incredulous.

  ‘No, I … He got out.’ Sienna felt her cheeks flush under his gaze. His eyes were brown, dark decadent chocolate-brown, framed by unfairly long eyelashes, little droplets of water dripping from them like tears from a frond. ‘I was on the phone and I—’

  ‘And you didn’t think to put a life jacket on him?’

  Shame made Sienna want to drop her gaze, but somehow she couldn’t. ‘I, um … No, I—’

  ‘He could have drowned!’ Lothario’s eyes were now lasering into hers right down to her toes. ‘I could have drowned!’ he pointed out, now seeming definitely angry.

  Sienna swallowed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she croaked, her throat feeling parched. He was right. Of course he was, and had every reason to be annoyed. But why did his palpable anger seem to be doing strange things to her pulse rate? Confused by his definite assault on her senses, Sienna inhaled a steadying breath. ‘I’m really sorry,’ she repeated firmly. ‘I didn’t think.’

  ‘Obviously not,’ he grated, now glaring at her as though she had half a brain. ‘Honestly, I do wonder about some people,’ he muttered, then sweeping now despairing eyes over her, he shook his head and turned away.

  Unbelievable! God, he was rude. But God, he was hot. Holding firmly onto a panting Tobias’ collar, Sienna watched him go. The wet, white cotton vest clinging to him, accentuating his torso, did nothing to dampen her curious arousal. But why was she aroused? If he hadn’t gone gallantly to the rescue of Tobias, she’d have been tempted to spit in his contemptuous eyes. Some people? What was that supposed to mean? She hadn’t asked him to help. Yes, she had. Screaming help at the top of her lungs probably counted as a subtle request.

  His wet cut-offs were clinging to his thighs, she noticed. Muscular thighs. Did he work out? Well, obviously he did, regularly, she thought, cynically. Even sloshing water as he walked, he looked steamily sexy. Yes, and obviously also arrogant and ill-mannered. Peeved, Sienna continued to watch, as he climbed onto his boat. The boat he’d snuck the woman onto and had subsequently been rocking and swaying half the night, the same boat woman-in-the-throes-of-ecstasy sounds had emerged from half the night. With an early team meeting to attend, Lauren had been far from amused this morning.

  ‘You’d think they’d give him his own segregated shagging area,’ she’d grumbled, bemoaning the bags under her eyes as she’d applied her concealer.

  ‘You all right, Miss Meadows?’ Nathaniel’s voice pierced through her meanderings.

  Shoot! Sienna had almost forgotten he was there. ‘Yes. Thanks.’ She smiled wanly, attempting to oust an image of what her reluctant hero had been doing exactly to bring a woman to such obvious heights of pleasure. ‘Would you tell him … Pass on my, um, thanks to, um …’ She nodded towards the boat.

  ‘Adam,’ Nathaniel supplied. ‘I will.’ He paused, then added, ‘Can I offer you a little word of advice?’

  ‘Hmm?’ Sienna tried to focus her mind away from the soggy sex God, realising she must appear as rude as he was.

  ‘He’s bad news,’ Nathaniel imparted, rather awkwardly. ‘Adam. I wasn’t sure whether you realised, but he’s a bit of a womaniser. I thought I should warn you, just in case … you know.’

  Well, that much Sienna had gathered. And if she’d been imagining there might be anything remotely attractive in that kind of man, she really must have half a brain.

  Chapter Two

  Adam had agonised over making the call. Receiving the frosty response he’d expected, he was now beginning to wish he hadn’t. He could hear a toddler snuffling tearfully in the background. It could only be Lily-Grace.

  Waiting for his would-have-been sister-in-law to come back to the phone, he noted Sherry’s car pulling up at the farmhouse and hoped she didn’t come directly over to him. It had taken him almost two years to make this call. He should have done it somewhere more private. He should have done it sooner.

  ‘Is she okay?’ he asked when Nicole came back on.

  ‘Just tetchy,’ Nicole assured him. ‘She’s a bit over-tired, that’s all.’

  Adam nodded, not sure what to say next. He had a million questions, but no clue how to ask them.

  ‘So, why the call?’ Nicole broke the awkward silence.

  Adam had no idea what to say there either. That he’d wanted to call before? Every day since the day he’d last seen Lily-Grace, he’d wanted to call, but could never find the courage? Sounded pretty lame, didn’t it? In Nicole’s eyes, if he’d cared at all, he would have made sure to call more than the one and only time he had. He did care, though, despite his attempts to convince himself he didn’t. There wasn’t a day that passed when he didn’t think about Lily-Grace, wonder whether she was healthy, happy. Not a night when Emily haunting him, more and more lately, didn’t remind him he should know how she was.

  ‘You’re a bit late if you want to wish her happy birthday, Adam,’ Nicole went on, her tone tinged with sarcasm. ‘Her birthday was last week, you might recall.’

  ‘I know.’ Adam sucked in a breath. Of course he bloody well knew. ‘Can I see her?’ He blurted out the question he’d steeled himself to ask and braced himself for the answer. He fully expected her to tell him to do what he’d done up until now and stay out of her life.

  ‘Why?’ Nicole eventually asked.

  ‘Because I want to,’ Adam said simply. Sharing the fact that he felt Emily also wanted him to, he fancied, would probably make him sound certifiable.

  ‘Yes, but why now, Adam?’ Nicole forced her point home.

  ‘To see how she’s doing,’ Adam gave her the only answer he could. ‘How she is.’

  ‘But why, Adam?’ Nicole repeated. ‘Don’t tell me your guilt gene has kicked in and you’ve finally realised you give a damn.’

  Adam swallowed. ‘The guilt is always there, Nicole,’ he said quietly. ‘I know it might not seem like it, but I do actually give a damn. I always have.’

  ‘Right.’ Adam heard the cynicism still in her voice. ‘Enough to want to be a part of her life?’ she asked the crucial question, the answer to which they both knew would impact on all their lives.

  ‘Yes,’ Adam answered immediately, ‘providing it’s okay with you and it doesn’t upset her.’

  Nicole paused again, and then, ‘Without a paternity test?’ she asked, cutting to the chase.

  Adam sighed inwardly. Barbed that comment might be, but the fact was it was the truth. As far as Nicole was concerned, he really hadn’t given a damn when Emily had gone through the pregnancy on her own; the birth; or when Lily-Grace was tiny, vulnerable, parentless. Too wrapped up in his own grief he hadn’t visited since, hadn’t even enquired how she was, his overriding concern being whose she was.

  ‘She’s okay, Adam,’ Nicole said, a determined edge now to her voice. ‘She’s doing fine without your input. She’s a healthy, happy little girl. I’m not sure it’s a good idea, particularly if you’re imagining she might be better off with you suddenly. The psychological consequences would be—’

  ‘I’m not imagining she would be better off with me, Nicole. I don’t doubt she’s happy with you,’ Adam interrupted, before she said an out-an-out no. Without the paternity test, he had no rights. He knew it. Nicole had taken responsibility for Lily-Grace when he’d been so messed up he’d been incapable of doing anything but drinking himself into obl
ivion, when his brother refused to even acknowledge the child existed.

  ‘But even you seeing her would be disruptive, Adam,’ Nicole said, after another heavy pause. ‘Surely you must realise that? As far as Lily is aware I’m Mummy and Phil’s Daddy. It might confuse her.’

  ‘I know,’ Adam said quickly. ‘That’s why I’m asking, Nicole, not insisting. I’d like to see her. I’m happy for it to be on your terms. I know you’ve been there for her, all that she needed you to be. I would never do anything to upset her world, I promise. If she does seem upset, in any way, I’ll back off. I give you my word.’

  Adam held his breath as Nicole went quiet again. ‘All right,’ she eventually relented. ‘A short visit, though, initially, Adam. We’ll see how things pan out.’

  He blew out a sigh of relief. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I’ll let you know when and where, but Adam …’ Nicole hesitated again, obviously about to add a caveat, ‘… if you’re planning to see her regularly you’re going to have to prove yourself, you know that, right?’

  As in make sure he could be relied on not to make a complete mess of this, as he had everything else. Adam got the message. ‘I know,’ he said, wondering if he could ever live up to that task. ‘I’ll wait to hear from you. Thanks again, Nicole. It means a lot to me.’

  ‘Don’t thank me yet,’ Nicole warned him. ‘Let’s get the first meeting over with. We’ll take it from there.’

  Pocketing his mobile, Adam went back to work on the fence Sherry had hired him to erect. It was almost finished. After that, he had another few jobs lined up around the town, and then … He’d cross that bridge when he got to it. He’d see Lily-Grace. Long-term plans though, he wouldn’t make, not yet. It might not work out. Nicole might decide he wasn’t fit to be any kind of a father figure to her. Momentarily poleaxed by that thought, Adam mulled it over in his head. Could he be? Did he really want to be, given he didn’t actually know he was the father? He honestly didn’t know. What he did know was there seemed to be an empty space inside him where that child should be. He needed to do this. It made no sense; in fact, the more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed, but he also felt Emily needed him to. He’d tried to tell himself it was his conscience conjuring her up, but he could feel her, her loneliness, her longing, growing stronger each and every time he saw her.