Kiss Don't Tell

by Avril Tremayne

  • Adam had seriously compromised her friendship with Lane, and a whole host of other things Sarah had no intention of getting into.

  • If he really wanted Lane, why didn’t he do the universe a favour and go and get her?

  • And furthermore, he was an arsehole who had quite possibly ruined his sister’s life.

  And then, she’d hung up on him.

  Okay.

  Arsehole.

  His sister Sarah—who never swore—had called him an arsehole.

  And the worst thing was, he agreed with her. He had been an arsehole. Maybe he still was an arsehole.

  But at least he was an arsehole who was going to do the universe a favour.

  He was going to get his woman.

  ***

  Adam barrelled past Erica the moment she opened the door, demanding, ‘Is she back?’

  ‘No,’ came the calm response.

  ‘Then when, dammit?’

  ‘As I said on the phone, Adam, if Lane wanted you to know, she would have told you.’

  ‘You tell me, or I wait here until she arrives. Your choice.’

  Erica examined Adam. Nodded. ‘Yep. Definitely in love with her.’

  ‘What the hell’s wrong with you? Of course I am.’

  ‘You know, Adam, girls are funny. They like to be told.’

  ‘I’ve made a fool of myself often enough for it to be blindingly obvious.’

  ‘Well, yes … but this is Lane we’re talking about.’

  ‘And she won’t let me near enough to tell her, anyway.’

  ‘Major eye roll, Adam! Like major! You got near enough to give her a hickey, didn’t you? How much closer do you need?’

  ‘That was … I just … I lost my head.’ His hands scrabbled over his hair. ‘God, I was mauling her within minutes of her mother being buried. Who does that if they’re not in love?’

  Erica laughed. ‘Psychopaths. And we could have sworn you weren’t one of those but it just goes to prove people can get these things wrong. Clearly we should have weeded you out from day one.’

  ‘It’s not funny.’

  ‘Sure it is.’ She watched as he reached for his hair again. ‘You know, for such smart people, you two are kind of stupid.’

  ‘Look, just help me, will you? Because I’ve been over my copy of that fucking contract with a magnifying glass, and she’s loopholed me out. So now I have to talk my way back to her—which means I have to see her.’

  ‘All right, I’ll help you on the understanding that if you see her, and this time she tells you she’s not interested, you accept it. The calls, the door-knocking … it stops.’

  Adam had gone pale. ‘Do you think that’s what she wants?’

  ‘No, I don’t, but that doesn’t mean the choice isn’t hers to make, even if it’s the wrong choice.’

  ‘Are you saying she thinks I’m a stalker?’

  ‘I don’t think she thinks that, but from my perspective, you’re perilously close. And I have to tell you that if I’d thought for a millisecond at any time in the past couple of weeks that Lane was afraid of you, you’d have already been found dead in a ditch.’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Shit is right. I’m not mucking around here. I know people.’

  He laughed, but it was more out of admiration than anything else. ‘What is it with you and Lane?’

  ‘Think of what you’d do for Sarah,’ Erica said. ‘What you did do for her.’ Pause. ‘Got it?’

  ‘Got it. Lane’s like a sister to you.’

  ‘Not like a sister. I consider Lane every inch a sister. She looked after me, right up to the time her father died, and then it was my turn to look after her. Now I’m thinking if she can get you under the thumb it might be time for her to look after for herself. Or at the very least, I might be ready to share protective custody, but only if the guy deserves the role and does a fucking good job.’

  Adam nodded. ‘You have my word I’ll do a fucking good job. And my word’s good.’

  ‘All right, so listen. I’m going to give you one important fact. David Bennett has not been in the picture for, oh, twelve weeks …? If you can’t figure out why you’re not the guy I think you are. And if you can’t work out what to do—when I tell you that she should be home around 6:00 p.m. today, when I will be at Jeremy’s … and that I’m going to deposit my key on the coffee table right about now, before I leave the house …?’ She paused. ‘Well, I can see you’ve worked it out.’

  Adam smiled.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Lane closed her eyes, trying—and failing—to relax as her taxi made the short journey from the airport to her house.

  She fiddled with the amber around her neck, with the charm bracelet around her wrist. Touched the place where Adam’s love bite had been. Remembered how it had felt to have his mouth there.

  I’ll be marking you like that every time I see you.

  She shivered, as she did every time she replayed that scene.

  Well, he’d had time to read the contract, find the clause that spelled out that it really was over, accept it, and move on.

  Now if only she could move on.

  An inability for which she was blaming Erica’s list.

  Lane put her hand up to her temple. Rubbed hard. Sighed.

  She’d read Erica’s list so many times, the words were memorized. She knew what Erica was trying to make her see: that to Adam, she wasn’t just a body with a lesson plan attached; that he should be forgiven for the way their relationship had started, because it had morphed into something else along the way; that he truly cared about her.

  But Lane already knew he cared about her. She only had to remember how he’d been with her the night her mother died.

  He cared about her, the way he cared about his sister. But Lane didn’t just care about Adam, she loved him.

  And that disparity was the crux of the problem. Lane did not deal well with disparity.

  She knew that what she was really ‘punishing’ Adam for was for not loving her. It was wrong; she knew it was wrong, unfair. But she couldn’t bear to see him, couldn’t bear to talk to him when she loved him so much, if he didn’t love her back.

  What if he does love you?

  The question snuck into her head, stealthy, insidious, undermining her willpower, the way it had done so relentlessly in China. Ever since she’d boarded her flight to Beijing, she’d been telling herself that was wishful thinking, and she had to stop wishing. Adam was not into commitment. End of story. Face it, Lane. Face it, and let the curve ball go.

  Hmm. Why was it easier to think about curve balls and letting go when she was halfway around the world? Whereas now she was back in Sydney, and Adam was within reach again, and she’d missed him so much, and she wanted so much to believe that he did love her …?

  Well, the question just seemed to stick there.

  What if Adam did love her? What if he could commit to her?

  Of course, if he did love her he’d had plenty of opportunities to tell her. Among all those voicemail messages he’d left he could have slipped in a simple ‘I love you’. He could have emailed the words to her. Or what about the last time she’d seen him, after the funeral? Okay, a cemetery probably wasn’t the most appropriate place for a declaration, but nor was it a great place for bringing up DeWayne or David, and he’d had no qualms about bringing up either of them. And it wasn’t the time or place to mark his territory with a giant love bite, but he’d said that stuff about—about—

  Her eyes shot open. ‘Marking his territory …’ she breathed out.

  The driver, she noticed at that point, was looking askance at her via the rear-view mirror.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, distractedly. ‘A lot on my mind.’

  She closed her eyes again, and her fingers reflexively went to her neck, where the love bite had been.

  It was number four on Erica’s list, so Erica had thought it was important.
r />   It was just an alpha male thing, though, wasn’t it? Adam hadn’t liked being compared to DeWayne. He certainly hadn’t liked being sandwiched between DeWayne and David. And he didn’t like the idea of her moving on to David at all. Hence the whole need to mark his territory. If Adam had known she saw him as the silver lining to DeWayne’s dark cloud, he wouldn’t have bothered to do any territory marking. There would have been no challenge to face, so why bother? And as for David, if Adam had known she was never going anywhere near David, he—

  Her eyes snapped open again.

  ‘He doesn’t know,’ she said to herself—and accidentally, to the driver, who was giving her another strange look.

  ‘Just talking to myself,’ she said—and went straight back to her musings.

  Although actually, they were more like blinding revelations, making her heartbeat speed up and her breaths come fast and hard, and her whole body tremble.

  Adam didn’t know that she was never going near David Bennett, and Adam didn’t know he was her silver lining. Because—she—hadn’t—told him.

  She remembered what had Adam said that night after he’d met David: ‘Call me old-fashioned, but I figure if you’re stupid enough to make a commitment to someone—and loving someone is a commitment in my book—then you don’t have sex with someone else.’

  It stood to reason that Adam, who’d seen way too many broken relationships, wouldn’t dream of telling her he loved her if he thought she was only using him as a bridge from one man to another! Adam wouldn’t dream of telling her he loved her if he thought she was in love with another man.

  Adam had no idea the man she was in love with was him!

  ‘Oh, my God,’ she wailed, and didn’t care that this time the driver turned in his seat to look at her.

  Her mind was racing, thoughts tumbling. Adam didn’t know she loved him. He thought she loved David. And despite having had David basically shoved down his throat, he’d still wanted her. He’d insisted on having her. He’d marked her as his.

  ‘I’m such an idiot.’

  She caught the driver regarding her nervously in the rear-view mirror again.

  ‘Stop staring at me and put your foot down,’ she said. ‘I’m not insane—just in love.’

  ***

  By the time Lane had dragged her wheelie bag up the path to her house, her nerves were out of control. Her fingers appeared to be in a state of rigor mortis, and no amount of wiggling would unclamp them. She was going to have to down a glass of Erica’s vodka before calling Adam. Maybe two glasses.

  She shoved her key at the lock.

  The instant Adam answered the phone she would blurt it out. She would—

  Oof.

  Lane stumbled over the threshold as the door was jerked open. She collided with a hard male chest.

  She blinked as she looked up, and her heart leapt into her throat.

  ‘Adam,’ she breathed.

  In staccato bursts of movement, he yanked her inside, grabbed her bag and briefcase off the front step and reefed them in, too, kicked the door closed, and reached for her.

  She opened her mouth to speak but before she could utter a syllable, she was crushed in his arms and he was kissing her.

  ‘Wait,’ Lane said against his mouth.

  ‘No.’ Another kiss.

  ‘Adam, I’ve got to tell you—’

  ‘Lane, shut up.’

  His mouth was on hers again and she couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Hands in her hair, on her face, her shoulders, her back.

  At last, with a shuddering kind of groan, he pulled back. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said and winced as he looked down at her. ‘Sorry. I didn’t meant to start off tonight by mauling you. I just—’

  Lane cut him off. ‘No, I’m sorry. About David. I don’t want David.’ She huffed out a relieved breath. ‘There. I said it.’

  Adam smiled at her, right into her eyes. ‘Just as well you don’t want him, because you’re not getting him. You’re getting me. And I’m not willing to share.’ He touched her neck and the smile faded. ‘But I shouldn’t have done that to you just to prove it.’

  She looked at him in confusion. ‘That?’

  ‘The love bite,’ he clarified.

  ‘Oh. Is it bad, to do that? Because I want to do it to you. I’ve been thinking about where I could put it.’

  ‘Lane,’ he groaned and reached for her again, only to pull himself up. He shook his head, stepped back. ‘Sanity time,’ he said, and stared at her. Watching. Waiting. ‘We don’t have a contract as of today.’

  Lane understood. There was nothing to hide behind. ‘No contract.’

  ‘Which means, if we’re together, it’s because we want to be.’

  She nodded. Heart … pulse … breath … racing, racing, racing. Oh God, she was a mess.

  ‘Which means …? You tell me: what does it mean, Lane?’

  ‘It means,’ she said, breathless, ‘I love you. Only you. It was always you. From the moment I saw you, it was you.’

  He closed his eyes, just for a heartbeat. Smiled as he opened them. ‘Yep. I like that answer,’ he said, and tried to take her back into his arms.

  She held him off. ‘You’re supposed to say it back, you know.’

  ‘Oh, am I?’ He was still smiling. ‘Well, you’ve made me angrier, more frustrated, more nervous, crazier, and I’d have to say hornier, than I’ve ever been before. And I guess that’s love, because surely to God nothing else could feel this crappy and petrifying and wonderful at the same time.’ He cupped her face with his hands, no longer smiling. ‘So yes, Lane, I love you. Like a madman. And a madman is what I’ve been without you.’

  Lane sighed blissfully and put her arms around Adam’s waist. ‘I’ve come to the conclusion that curve balls aren’t so scary, even if you drop them.’

  Adam started laughing. ‘What?’

  ‘I’m your curve ball. You dropped me, but then you picked me up.’

  ‘You’re not a curve ball, Lane, you’re a four-seam fastball. You hit me hard and fast with maximum velocity and precision. You knocked me on my arse the moment you opened your door that first night, and I’ve never recovered. I don’t want to recover.’

  ‘Oh! That sounds … nice.’

  ‘Yes, I know you like it hard and fast.’

  She smiled up at him. ‘Yes, I do. Can we do it that way now?’

  Adam half-laughed, half-groaned as he tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. ‘First I have one condition.’

  She nestled closer still. ‘Hmm?’

  He undid her hair, one-handed, and started smoothing the strands. ‘You can’t bring any of the furniture.’

  ‘Bring any of the furniture where?’ she asked dreamily.

  ‘To my place. When you move in.’

  ‘Why am I moving in?’

  ‘Because I want you to.’

  She frowned. ‘I don’t understand. I thought we were just going to … you know … date, like normal people. And I wasn’t going to put any pressure on you about the next stage. I thought you might want to ease into the commitment thing.’

  ‘There’s been no “easing into” anything with you so far, Lane, so why start now?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Keep up, Lane.’ He bent to kiss her quickly. ‘Lesson Number— Oh, hell, we gave up numbering them, didn’t we? It’s not a lesson anyway, it’s a fact. You’re mine, and that means you belong with me. Now that’s an alpha male thing. And as your exhaustive research into the alpha male would have indicated, there’s no use arguing.’

  He yanked her closer, so quickly and roughly her hip knocked against the front of his jeans.

  ‘Hey, careful,’ Lane said. ‘I’ve paid for those goods. I want them in working order.’

  ‘The goods are fine.’

  Lane laughed as she started unbuttoning his shirt.

  ‘Getting finer by the second,’ he said, as she slid the shirt o
ff his shoulders. ‘By the nanosecond,’ he murmured as her mouth fastened to his neck then slid lower. ‘By the— Whoa!’

  Lane raised her head and examined the love bite she’d made on his chest, with a smile of great satisfaction. ‘I marked my territory. Does that make me an alpha female?’

  Adam grinned. ‘I always knew you were.’

  Loved Kiss Don’t Tell?

  Then turn the page for…

  THE DATING GAME

  CHAPTER ONE

  … but not six days! Six miserly, measly, paltry, pitiful—

  Uh-oh. Fist against mouth. Hold … hold … hooold … aaand … whew! Under control. She was not going to give in to those hideous sobs again, even if she had to stuff her fist down her throat to throttle them.

  Not that it mattered if she bawled herself into a snot-laden seizure, since there was nobody here to witness it. Well, nobody except the bespectacled bronze head on the shelf to her right, and ‘Clarence Donleavy’—his name, according to the plaque affixed to his wooden base—wasn’t going to be tattling.

  In fact, Clarence was regarding her with unwavering apathy, which Sarah decided was the perfect look to carry her out of the storeroom and back to civilization. She swivelled the wheeled footstool she was perched on so she could face him, contorted her face into what she hoped was a matching expression, realized a more scientific approach would be to actually look at herself while she did it, and reached into the evening bag on her lap for her compact.

  But it was her phone that her fingers closed around and lifted out.

  Perhaps she should check the message. To see if she’d misinterpreted. Because she might have, mightn’t she?

  She brought up the text, read the words …

  And her breath eased out like a slowly deflating balloon. Nope. No misinterpretation possible.

  Liam had dumped her. At the six-day mark—a new low, even by her plummeting standards.

  ‘It’s a curse, you know,’ she explained to Clarence. ‘I can’t get Lane and Erica to believe me, but I’m definitely afflicted by some sort of anti-love hex. And it’s so unfair, when I try. So. Hard!’ She stamped her foot for emphasis, which proved a little too violent an action for the footstool, which would have shot out backwards from under her if she hadn’t caught it with a lightning-fast shoe-plant.