The Rest of My Life

by Sheryl Browne

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sienna just knew he’d do that, throw down some sort of a challenge. Fuming, she headed outside, as her dad jogged towards the cottage.

  ‘Dad!’ She stopped him short of the door. ‘What are you doing?’ She nodded towards where Adam had ground to a halt by his boat, panting and clutching his thighs.

  ‘Just running.’ Apparently oblivious, or couldn’t-care-less, her dad shrugged nonchalantly.

  ‘Just acting like a juvenile, you mean.’ Sienna stepped huffily past him as Adam sank to his haunches, his hands draped between his knees and his chest now visibly heaving.

  ‘Sienna?’ Her dad turned around, obviously shocked by her tone.

  ‘What are you trying to prove, Dad?’ Sienna turned back, her cheeks flaming. ‘That he’s got stamina, staying power? Or are you just trying to kill him off, rather than scare him off?’

  Her dad furrowed his brow, glancing past her to Adam. ‘It’s okay, Sienna,’ he said, with a shake of his head. ‘He’s still breathing.’

  Sienna glanced back, relieved to see Adam standing up. ‘But that’s the point, Dad, he might not have been,’ she said, eyeing him despairingly.

  ‘Sienna, I know you think you’re in love with him,’ her dad’s voice took on a patient tone, ‘but don’t you think you might be a bit over-zealous, jumping to his—’

  ‘He’s just had pleurisy! They had to take him to the hospital! Those bloody, bloody animals very nearly did kill him!’ Sienna seethed, furiously.

  ‘Ah.’ Her dad looked contrite.

  ‘Pushing him physically makes you just as much a bully as they are, Dad,’ Sienna pointed out, trying to moderate her tone to something less than absolutely livid.

  Her dad now looked very contrite. ‘He never said anything.’

  ‘No, well he wouldn’t, would he? He’s a man, spelt s-t-u-b-b-o-r-n. I think you two have much more in common than either of you imagine.’ So saying, Sienna gave her father a reproving glance and turned back towards Adam, to see him now at the water hose, liberally drenching himself in cold water.

  ‘I think he’s still functioning,’ her dad commented, coming to stand by Sienna’s side as Adam sloshed back towards his boat, dragging a hand through his sopping wet hair and waving wearily in Sienna’s direction as he went.

  Oh, no. Adam groaned, delving in his soaked track bottoms for his phone – his only means of communication with Sienna while the anti-Adam brigade was on vigil twenty-four seven. Finding it decidedly wet, again, he sighed and tried a text message. How R U?

  Missing you. Sienna immediately texted back. Thought U wanted phone-sex?

  Adam’s mouth curved into a smile, despite his aching limbs. I do, but you’ll have to be gentle with me.

  Phoning U :) Sienna pinged back.

  ‘How sore are you?’ she asked, when Adam answered.

  ‘Very,’ he assured her, heading for the seating area, and then thinking better of soaking that, too, he slid down the wall of the boat onto the floor.

  ‘Would you like me to come and give you a massage?’ Sienna asked teasingly.

  ‘Erm …?’ Adam laughed. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Where would you like me to start?’ Sienna asked, alerting Adam to the fact that, even with debilitating muscle fatigue, a certain part of his anatomy was still keen to function where Sienna was concerned.

  ‘With you taking all your clothes off,’ he suggested. In agony or not, if her old man wasn’t around, he’d go over there and do terrible things to her, right now.

  ‘What, in broad daylight?’ Sienna sounded alarmed.

  Adam supressed a chuckle. ‘I’ve already seen you in broad daylight,’ he reminded her, ‘every tempting, extremely beautiful, kissable inch of you. Are you okay?’ he tacked on, quickly. ‘After what you told me, I mean? That must have been hard for you to do.’

  ‘Oh.’ Sienna paused. ‘Yes, yes, it was. I wasn’t going to tell you. I didn’t see any need but you kept pushing, so …’

  Bullying, Adam mentally corrected her. He’d forced her to confide stuff she didn’t want to. Adam didn’t like himself much for that. He was no great catch, but he hoped he would never be anything like his father, constantly bullying his mother, emotionally, physically, reducing her self-esteem to nil. If he ever turned out to be like that, then he would deserve to be shot. ‘Did he hurt you, this …’ bastard, he thought ‘… bloke?’ he asked gently.

  Sienna paused before answering, which pretty much confirmed that he had. Anger bubbled up inside Adam like bile. ‘He was … rough,’ she said, eventually. ‘It was more groping and slobbering than anything, though. He didn’t … you know.’

  Adam felt his gut clench. ‘What did you do?’ he asked tightly, fervently hoping she’d managed to knee the bastard where it hurt most.

  ‘I managed to get the car door open and I ran.’ Sienna’s tone was light, but Adam heard the tremor in her voice, and prayed earnestly one day he would meet him. ‘I’d only got one shoe on, though. One came off in the struggle. I must have looked like a complete pathetic mess. He didn’t bother to come after me.’

  No, Adam thought, disgusted, didn’t sound like the sort who would, other than for the wrong reasons. ‘Bastard,’ he uttered out loud. ‘You could never look a mess, Sienna. You’re beautiful, inside and out, trust me.’

  She gave a small, disbelieving laugh. ‘What, not even half-drowned?’

  ‘Never,’ Adam assured her. ‘When you walk by the flowers hang their heads in shame, I swear.’

  ‘Ooh.’ Sienna laughed again, delightedly, ‘I do love it when you flatter me.’

  ‘I love it when you do that,’ Adam said softly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Laugh.’ He smiled to himself, loving how infectious her laugh was. It lifted his spirits, reminding him of the sunnier things in life. ‘You should never be sad,’ he told her, promising himself that he’d never do anything to make her be.

  ‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘Not anymore.’

  ‘Good.’ He nodded, wishing he could go over there and physically reassure her how irresistibly, frustratingly sexy she was.

  ‘What about …’ her tone now genuinely lighter, she paused to ponder ‘… covered in Bolognese sauce?’

  ‘Okay.’ Adam laughed, remembering their brief experimentation with food as an aphrodisiac. ‘I concede, messy but most definitely mouth-watering. Still think I’d prefer ice cream, though.’

  ‘Fudge,’ Sienna said. ‘My favourite flavour is fudge.’

  ‘Now that would be messy.’ Adam played along, his taste buds tingling at the prospect.

  ‘Smeared on all over,’ Sienna went on.

  ‘And licked off very slowly.’ Adam closed his eyes imagining his lips on hers, his tongue trailing the long slender length of her throat, tracing the contours of her breasts, the soft curve of her stomach; the sharp jut of her hips. He swallowed. ‘I want to taste you,’ he said huskily. ‘I want to come over there and—’

  I don’t bloody believe this. Adam stopped abruptly as he felt the boat shift to one side, and then almost passed out while sitting when he saw who it was. ‘I think I left it in the kitchen,’ he finished.

  ‘Pardon?’ Sienna said, puzzled.

  ‘My watch.’

  ‘Um?’ Sienna was clearly clueless.

  ‘Mr Meadows,’ Adam said pointedly as the man himself peered suspiciously through his door, ‘what can I do for you?’

  ‘Ooh, flip!’ Sienna gasped, and hurriedly rang off.

  Adam might have laughed, visualising those two cute bright spots on her cheeks, but for the fact that her father might have overheard that last bit. In which case, smiling like an imbecile probably wasn’t such a good idea. Looking Meadows over worriedly as he came down the steps, Adam levered himself up from the floor.

  ‘It’s on your wrist,’ Meadows pointed out.

  ‘Sorry?’ Adam followed his gaze to the watch he was obviously wearing. ‘Oh, right, yes. It’s, er …’
<
br />   ‘Wet?’ Meadows suggested.

  ‘Yes.’ Adam tugged in a breath and nodded, fancying he looked very much like an imbecile.

  Meadows looked him archly up and down. ‘You’re wet pretty much all over,’ he observed, coming to stand in front of him. ‘Do you always take a shower with your clothes on?’

  Adam allowed himself to breathe out. ‘No.’ He risked a smile. ‘Only when I’m in danger of expiring from heat exhaustion.’

  Meadows studied him again, his look now inscrutable, which was unnerving. ‘You didn’t mention anything,’ he said, now eyeing Adam narrowly, which was definitely unnerving, ‘about your recent illness.’

  Adam looked at him quizzically, wondering where this was leading. ‘No.’ He shrugged. ‘Given what caused it, would you have been very impressed if I had?’

  Meadows considered. ‘No,’ he said, at length. ‘You’re right. I wouldn’t,’ he acquiesced, with a short smile.

  Wondering if that was it, or whether Meadows was going to continue with the Spanish Inquisition, Adam waited, though he’d much rather not. Standing around in wet clothes, he was rapidly beginning to cool down.

  ‘Should you be running?’ Meadows asked.

  Adam shrugged again. ‘I’m not exactly fit, but it helps keep me focussed.’

  Meadows nodded slowly. ‘We’ll go at a slower pace tomorrow,’ he offered.

  Very magnanimous of you, I’m sure. Adam sighed inside, realising the guy was probably going to shadow him for the length of his stay, which meant his chances of getting anywhere near Sienna were nil. In which case, he’d be cold showering on a regular basis. ‘Right. See you then.’ He mustered up a smile.

  ‘It’s David, by the way, the name,’ Meadows said, throwing Adam completely and offering him his hand.

  ‘Er, right.’ Adam shook his head, and then reached out and shook the man’s hand. ‘Cheers,’ he said, bemused. Did he detect a slight thaw in his attitude here?

  ‘I’ll catch you around, no doubt,’ David said. ‘Meanwhile, you’d better get out of those clothes.’

  Adam glanced down at his attire, his brow furrowed in confusion. Was the guy actually looking out for him?

  ‘Oh, and Adam,’ David said as he turned to leave, ‘if you’re going to try to encourage my daughter out of hers, in private, please.’

  Shoot! ‘Right, yes, will do. Er … ahem.’

  Despairing of ever getting anything right in the man’s eyes, Adam tugged off his vest. ‘I’m glad someone’s amused,’ he said, tossing it at his definitely more cheerful floating guest. It didn’t hit anything, of course, just dropped right through her to the floor. So how come he was still having the hallucinations even though he’d given up drinking, he wondered, as he headed for the shower?

  He considered taking up drinking again when he returned. The vest wasn’t there anymore, on the floor. It was on the seating area, neatly folded in two.

  Adam stopped towelling his hair and dropped down next to it, disbelieving. If he hadn’t folded that himself, and conceivably he had and forgotten, without doubt, that was Emily. Her constant nag was for him to stop leaving his clothes where he’d stepped out of them. What in God’s name did she want? He swallowed, feeling for the first time since she’d appeared something akin to fear. Would she ever go away? Was it possible he really was going slowly out of his mind?

  Arriving back at the marina the next morning, breathless but at least still able to stand, Adam detoured away from his jogging companion, as Nathaniel beckoned him over. ‘Way to go, Casanova. Well done.’ Nathaniel grinned as he neared him.

  At which Adam cringed and glanced over his shoulder. David Meadows had ears like a bat and eyes like a hawk. Had he heard? Yep, inevitably. David glanced back in his direction and shook his head as he carried on towards the cottage.

  ‘Cheers, Nate.’ Adam sighed, running his forearm over his sweat-beaded brow. ‘The guy’s just got through suggesting that odd-jobbing isn’t the best way to earn a gym membership fee.’

  ‘Oops, sorry, mate.’ Nathaniel looked sheepish. ‘Force of habit.’

  ‘One I’m trying to break, Nate,’ Adam reminded him.

  ‘Still giving you the third degree then, is he?’

  ‘And some,’ Adam replied despondently. ‘He wonders if it’s wise turning my back on my inheritance. I suppose he’s wondering at my future prospects. Can’t say I blame him, given my prospects are currently nil, along with my bank balance.’

  Nathaniel nodded thoughtfully. ‘So you are considering a future, then, with Sienna?’

  Adam ran his hand over his neck. ‘Yes,’ he admitted, still somewhat surprised at his emotional U-turn. ‘Yes, I am.’ Given Emily’s manifestations didn’t sabotage everything that was. God only knew what Sienna would think if he confessed to seeing ghosts.

  ‘And Sienna?’ Nathaniel enquired, his eyebrows raised curiously. ‘Is she considering a future with you?’

  Good question. ‘I don’t know.’ Adam sighed. ‘I hope so.’

  Nathaniel’s eyebrows arched a fraction higher. ‘You mean you haven’t discussed it with her?’

  Adam shrugged awkwardly. ‘Not yet, no.’

  ‘Right.’ Nathaniel eyed the skies. ‘Tell me if I’m being a bit dense here, Adam, but don’t you think this might be a bit of a hindrance to your plans?’

  Adam smiled dejectedly. ‘Haven’t had much chance, have I?’ He glanced again in the direction of Meadows, who’d just disappeared through the front door of the cottage. ‘I’m fully expecting him to mount a gun on the turret if I attempt to go anywhere near her.’

  ‘Just a thought,’ Nathaniel mused, his eyebrows now meeting in the middle, ‘but did it occur to you he might not want you to keep away from his daughter?’

  ‘Come again?’ Adam laughed, bemused. The guy had shadowed him everywhere but the bathroom. It’s a wonder he hadn’t intercepted his texts. Blimey, he hoped he hadn’t intercepted his texts.

  ‘Well, I’m just guessing here, not being an expert on what women really want, like you,’ Nathaniel paused, casting Adam a somewhat facetious glance, ‘but don’t you think he might be wondering whether you’re actually going to court the girl? That Sienna might even be wondering whether you are?’

  Adam frowned. ‘You reckon?’

  Nathaniel shook his head, a smile creeping across his face. ‘You know, I’ve never seen you uncertain in a woman’s company. Not once. You really have got it bad, haven’t you?’

  Adam glanced down, his mouth twitching into an embarrassed smile.

  ‘Take her out, Adam.’ Nathaniel placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘One bunch of flowers does not a courtship make. Wine her, dine her. Impress her, and her old man into the bargain. And while you’re at it, do something about your finances, yes?’

  ‘What? Sell my body, you mean?’ Adam couldn’t resist.

  ‘Ho, ho.’ Nathaniel looked highly unimpressed. ‘See that guy over there …’ He nodded towards one of the yachts. A beauty Adam had admired when it cruised in, a hundred grand’s worth, at least. ‘He asked me if I knew of a good mechanic I could recommend.’

  ‘You mean …’ Adam eyed him, surprised, ‘… you would?’

  ‘A few weeks ago, in all honesty, no, I wouldn’t. Now though …’ Nathaniel looked him over and then gave him an approving nod. ‘You obviously are trying, so, yep, I’m prepared to recommend you.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Adam brightened considerably. If he had some work, at least he might actually be able to afford to take Sienna out. ‘Cheers, Nate. You’re a diamond.’

  ‘I know.’ Nathaniel smirked as Adam turned towards his boat. ‘If you let me down, though, Adam …’

  Adam turned back. ‘I know,’ he said, his hands raised in acquiescence, ‘mess up and I up anchor and move on.’

  ‘Pronto,’ Nathaniel assured him. ‘Oh, and, Adam,’ he called as Adam walked on, ‘if you really want to impress her, wear something decent when you do take her out.’

  Adam glanced down at
his track bottoms, which had seen better days and which were about as suitable attire for a restaurant as his cut-offs. His jeans were reasonable, he supposed, teamed with his good T-shirt maybe? Blimey, he was debating his wardrobe. Adam smiled as he walked. Nathaniel was right. He had got it bad. For the first time in a long time, his dreams didn’t haunt him, ceaselessly waking him in the dead of night. Even aware of Emily’s presence, he went to sleep thinking about Sienna; he woke up and his first thoughts were of her. His only nightmare was envisioning life without her.

  Would she want to be with him, though? If she did, how the hell would he ever find the courage to consider the marriage route again? Assuming she would want a future with him, could she understand that, where he’d once been reluctant to go the white wedding route, the prospect of marriage actually now terrified him? The whole choosing the ring thing, booking the church, planning the reception; the fear that fate, human frailty, whatever, would intervene and it would all go tragically wrong, Adam couldn’t imagine how he’d cope with that again.

  He had been going to go through with it. Despite his unwillingness to be beholden to his father – who naturally had thrown money at the wedding, attempting to pay his way out of everything as he usually did, the havoc he created in people’s lives, the pain, physical and emotional – Adam had never intended to call it off. He couldn’t have if he’d wanted to. Everything had been organised. They’d even hired the band. He’d rehearsed his speech, over and over. That had been one of his recurring nightmares, that he’d be reading it, having never yet managed to memorise it, and he’d look up to see the wedding breakfast turning to dust and decay, the whole thing covered in cobwebs, crumbling right before his eyes. It was like something straight out of a Charles Dickens novel. As much as Adam might want to, he wasn’t sure he could get past it.

  Despite the heat, which was heavier than ever, indicating thunderstorms brewing, Adam felt a distinct chill as he descended the steps into his cabin. It was back, the sadness. He could sense it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘You mean you’re not going to haul the engine out and charge me a fortune?’ The owner of the yacht looked at Adam incredulously.