by Patricia Kay
When they reached his suite, she was relieved to see it really was a full-fledged suite with a separate living area filled with comfortable chairs and a sofa. There was even a small dining table with four chairs. She suggested they sit there so she could turn her small recorder on and keep it on the table between them as they talked.
He agreed readily, asked if she’d like anything to drink, and when she said no, sat down kitty-corner from her. Once the recorder was switched on, she asked him to tell her about his first weeks in Nashville.
“They were rough,” he admitted. “I ran out of money pretty fast. Like I told you before, I even had to pitch my phone ’cause I couldn’t afford it. Just got one of those disposables that were cheaper so I could keep calling producers and they’d have a way of contacting me.”
He described how he’d rented the cheapest possible room at a boardinghouse, how he’d made dozens of demos and how just as he was about to give up and try to find a job as a waiter or something, one of the producers he’d contacted called him and signed him.
“I owe everything to Duke,” he said. “He’s still one of my best friends.”
“He recognized your talent,” Eve said.
They went on to talk about his first record and how it had shot to the top of Billboard’s country charts, then surprised everyone by crossing over to the pop charts when DJs around the country began giving it airtime on pop stations.
“That was a big deal, wasn’t it?” Eve asked.
“Yeah. I had no idea. It’s a good thing I had Duke, because I was a babe in the woods. People could’ve taken big advantage of me if not for him. I owe him a lot.”
“I’m sure he’s made a lot of money off you.”
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t forget my friends, people who’re straight and loyal.”
Eve nodded. “So what’s next? There’s a rumor that you’ve been asked to judge one of the reality singing shows.”
Adam gave her a self-deprecating grin. “Yeah, and my agent’s hot to trot. Thinks I should do it. I don’t know. That kind of thing doesn’t really interest me. I’d rather just spend that time writing more music.”
Eve smiled. She could’ve predicted that would be his answer. “How about if I take a couple of pictures? I know my boss will want at least one to accompany the article.”
When he agreed, she turned off the recorder, then got out her phone and with its camera, took several candid shots. Once that was done, she said, “I forgot to ask. How does it feel to be home again after all these years?”
“You know how it feels,” he said, meeting her eyes.
“No, I don’t.”
“It feels surreal.” When she frowned, he quickly said, “But that’s off-the-record. Say it feels good. I like seeing everyone and like seeing that Crandall Lake is still as nice as it always was. Say I’m happy to be here for my mother and I like seeing old friends again. Say I’m looking forward to visiting more often in the future.”
“Do you really feel that way? Are you planning on coming back more often?”
“I don’t know. Depends.”
“On what?”
His eyes pinned hers. “On you.”
“On me?” Eve said faintly.
“I’ve never forgotten you, Eve,” he said softly. “That kiss last night, it wasn’t an impulse. I wanted to kiss you from the minute I saw you at the shelter. My big hit, ‘Impossible to Forget’... I wrote that song because of you.”
Eve swallowed. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. Even when he reached for her hand, her gaze remained glued to his. When he gently pulled her toward him, her stupid heart began to race, and even though her brain screamed, Danger! Danger! No! Stop! Don’t do it! she didn’t resist when he drew her into his arms.
“I want you, Eve.”
She closed her eyes as his lips grazed her cheek, and drifted down to her neck.
“I’ve always wanted you,” he whispered.
Every nerve ending in her body seemed to be alive with sensation. And when he raised his head to capture her mouth, she moaned, and instead of stopping him, she kissed him back as if her very life depended upon it.
The kiss went on and on and on. Became two. Then three. But when his hands roamed lower, cupping her bottom, then reached up to unzip her dress, she finally came to her senses.
Breathing heavily, she pushed at his chest. “No, Adam. No! I can’t.”
“Eve...” He tried to kiss her again.
She turned her face away, and the kiss landed on her cheek. “Please, Adam, don’t. This is a mistake. A terrible mistake.”
“Why is it a mistake? I want you, Eve. And I know you want me.”
She couldn’t deny that. She did want him. She wanted him more now than she had all those years ago. She wanted him so much she could hardly stand it. Fighting tears, she said, “What we want is not important. What will happen tomorrow and the next day is what matters.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Adam, think about it. Your life is not here, but mine is. If we...if we make love now, everything will become more complicated and messy than it is already. There’s...there’s no point to it. No future for us. There never was.”
“So that’s it?” he said. “We’re both free, you want me as much as I want you, but we’re not going to do anything about it?”
“Yes, that’s it.” Straightening her dress, she picked up her recorder and phone and put them in her purse. Then, avoiding his eyes, she said, “I’m going to go now, Adam. Thank you for the interview.”
Then she turned and, without looking back, walked out of the suite.
* * *
Adam wanted to go after her. He couldn’t believe how little had changed. How much he still wanted her. It had been hard enough to leave her Saturday when everything in him had told him to open that door and follow her inside her little house, to then pick her up and carry her straight to her bedroom, where they could make love the entire night. If anything, the longing he’d felt then had only gotten stronger.
But much as he hated to admit it, Eve might be right. Her life was here, and his was somewhere else. And although he’d said he was free, he wasn’t. Not really. First of all, there was Bethany. And even once he extricated himself from that relationship, there was still his career and all the people who depended upon that career.
He had commitments out the wazoo—not just the summer tour, but other bookings and possible bookings, including a television show in the works—which he had not told Eve about because he didn’t want any word of it out there until the deal was finalized, if it ever was.
On top of that, there was his mother, and he really did want to try to get her to move to Nashville, so he could keep an eye on her. Then there was his place in LA. And if that television show worked out, he’d be spending more time there.
Lots of women might be interested in that kind of nomadic life, but he doubted Eve was. She had two children. Young children. He couldn’t imagine her wanting to uproot them or take them away from their father. The truth was, he and Eve were like shooting stars going in opposite directions.
So he didn’t stop her when she walked out of the suite.
But he didn’t have to like it.
* * *
Eve spent another sleepless night filled with fitful dreams. But the next morning, she determinedly put them and all thoughts of Adam and what might have been out of her mind and concentrated her energies on writing the best, most objective story about him she possibly could.
Joan loved it. “Is he as nice as you’ve painted him?” she asked after reading it.
Eve smiled. “He is.”
“Not arrogant or obnoxious?”
“Not in the least.”
“You two were in the same graduating class, rig
ht?”
“Yes.”
“And you were friends?”
“Casual friends.”
Joan cocked her head, studying Eve. “Nothing more?”
Eve shook her head. Hoped her voice or expression wouldn’t betray her. “Nope. Nothing more.”
“Was he as good-looking then as he is now?”
“He was always cute, but he was a loner. A bit weird. He didn’t pay much attention to girls.”
“Really?” Joan’s expression was skeptical.
Eve knew Joan wasn’t buying it, but too bad. Eve had no intention of feeding her boss’s curiosity, or anyone else’s. She had her story and she was sticking to it.
“And all the girls accepted that?”
Eve shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I was kind of a loner myself.”
Joan grinned. “We have that in common, don’t we?”
Eve breathed an inner sigh of relief, glad she’d managed to steer Joan away from the subject of Adam.
“Well, thank you for a great article,” Joan said. “And for the pictures.”
For the rest of the afternoon, Eve wondered whether she should call Bill and tell him about seeing Adam again—and why. But something stopped her. The interview had been part of her job, and Bill would know that. She didn’t owe him an explanation.
The story about Adam ran in Thursday’s edition, on the front page of the Lifestyle section, under Eve’s byline. And even though Eve had been telling herself Bill would be fine with it, she wasn’t really surprised to receive a phone call from him that afternoon.
“I thought we had a meeting of the minds,” he said tightly.
So he was angry. “We do. But I had no choice in the matter of the interview.”
“You could have gotten out of it.”
“And just how would I have managed that?” Now she was getting angry.
“If you’d wanted to, you’d have figured out something.”
“You know, Bill, you’re being unfair. I’m very lucky to still have a job. So when Joan asked me personally to do the interview, I didn’t think it would be wise to try to fob it off on someone else.”
The silence that followed was pregnant with tension. Finally, he said, “Tell me the truth, Eve. Are you going to see him again?”
“No. And I told him that.”
Another silence. But this time, when he spoke, his voice had softened. “Okay. Thank you.”
After they’d hung up, Eve gathered up her things and prepared to leave the office. She felt absurdly close to tears and too upset to face any more questions or congratulatory or curious calls from anyone else. For about the dozenth time since Adam had returned to Crandall Lake she asked herself why. Why had this happened? Why? And when would Adam leave so that her life could go back to normal?
You’re kidding yourself. It’ll never go back to normal, not now that you’ve seen Adam again. Not now that you know you’ve never really gotten over him. And especially not now that you know he feels the same way about you.
And yet... What could she do about any of it? No amount of thinking or bargaining with the heavens was going to change her situation. Seeing Adam, lying to herself that they might still have a chance to build a life together, was folly. Very dangerous folly.
The twins were number one in her life. Their happiness and security were more important than anything or anyone else. And there was no changing the circumstances of their birth or the bargain she’d made with Bill. She had no choice but to forget about Adam—again.
* * *
By the time Friday rolled around, and Bill had picked up the twins for the jaunt to Houston and their cousin’s birthday weekend, Eve had finally managed to come to some kind of acceptance of the situation with Adam. She hated the phrase “it is what it is,” but that fit her life to a T.
And now she was facing another lonely weekend that she’d have to fill somehow...and fill without going anyplace where she might bump into Adam again.
She decided the smart thing to do was to work all weekend. In fact, if she did that, if she wrote a couple of blogs ahead, and did as much research and prep work on a couple of articles hanging fire from Penny’s departure, she might be able to take a few days off next week. Maybe take the twins somewhere for a long weekend. They’d love that. She could even invite her mother to come along.
So at eight the next morning, she was already at the paper, sitting at her desk and working on blog ideas. Her mother had invited her to come over for lunch, and tonight she would order takeout for dinner, then work late. And tomorrow she had church in the morning, and if necessary, she could come back into the office for the afternoon. Or, if she got desperate to do something else, she could go to a movie. And Bill was bringing the twins home by six. The weekend would be tolerable.
At twelve fifteen she saved her work, took her purse out of her desk drawer and waved goodbye to the two coworkers who were also there. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” she said.
She blinked as she walked out into the sunshine and put on her sunglasses. Heading for her car, which was parked in the small lot next to the building housing the paper, she didn’t at first see the man leaning against her car. When she did, her heart did a somersault.
It was Adam.
“Hey,” he said, straightening and giving her his sexy, crooked grin. Today he wore the black biker boots, weathered-looking jeans and a gray T-shirt that was inscribed Peace, Love, Music. The bad boy grown up.
“What are you doing here?” she said.
“I was driving by and saw your car.”
She couldn’t see his eyes, which were hidden by reflective sunglasses. “So?”
“So since it’s almost lunchtime, I was waiting to see if you’d come out. If not, I was going to go in and get you.”
“Why? Wh-what do you want?” She hated how she’d stammered. How he seemed to reduce her insides to a bowlful of jelly.
“Just to say thanks for the great article you wrote. And I wanted to take you to lunch.”
“You’re welcome, on the article. But I can’t go to lunch with you. My mother’s expecting me. She made stuffed cabbage rolls because she knows how much I love them.” Now, why had she said that? She was an idiot.
“Stuffed cabbage rolls!” He gave her a wicked grin. “I’ll go with you, then.”
Eve stared at him. Go with her? She opened her mouth to say she didn’t remember inviting him, but before she could, his grin grew even wider, and even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she knew they were twinkling. Oh, he was pleased with himself. Childishly, she felt like kicking him.
“C’mon, Eve. What’s the big deal? It’s just lunch. Anyway, don’t you think it’s time I met your mother?”
Eve swallowed. She felt helpless in the face of his audacity. His assurance that she wouldn’t deny him. That whatever he wanted, she’d go along with it.
And the truth was, she didn’t want to say no to him ever—about anything. And he knew it. He’d known it on Tuesday when she’d said she wasn’t going to see him again. And he knew it now. She could hear the knowledge in his voice. She wondered if he also knew how her heart was hammering, and how weak with desire she felt. Oh, God, she was a mess.
“I’ll drive,” he said, knowing he’d won. He inclined his head, and she saw a red Porsche convertible parked at the curb. He laughed at her expression. “Yeah, I traded in the other rental yesterday. Figured if I was gonna be here awhile, I might as well drive something fun.”
Eve knew this was crazy. Utterly and completely crazy. But at that moment, she was powerless to stop herself. When he reached for her hand, she gave it to him, and she let him lead her to the car and help her in.
“Your mom still live in the same house?” he asked when he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car.
“Yes,” she said weakly. Dear God. What would her mother think when she saw him?
Eve didn’t have long to wonder. Less than ten minutes later he swung into the driveway of her mother’s house. Almost instantly, her mother opened the door. Eve wished she could take a photo of the astounded expression on Anna’s face when she realized who the man was walking to the door with her daughter. When her mother’s eyes met Eve’s, Eve saw a dozen questions reflected in them.
I’m in for it now. What in the world am I going to tell her when she starts asking those questions? And wanting them answered?
Well, it was too late to worry about that problem. Now she’d better concentrate on giving the best performance of her life, and worry about the rest of it after she’d survived lunch.
Chapter Seven
“I hope you don’t mind another mouth to feed, Mrs. Cermak,” Adam said.
“Of course I don’t mind,” Anna said.
“I dropped by the paper to invite Eve to lunch, and when she said she was coming here and that you’d made cabbage rolls, I invited myself along.”
When Adam gave Anna his famous smile, Eve could see her mother beginning to melt. “Well, come on in,” she said.
As always, her mother’s small bungalow was spotless. The furniture gleamed with polish, the air smelled like lemon Pledge and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. A vase of fresh flowers adorned the small gateleg table in the entryway, and the grandfather clock that Anna had inherited from her parents chimed the half hour from its place of honor in the corner. As they walked back into the bright red-and-white kitchen, they were greeted with wonderful smells. Eve smiled when she saw Daisy, her mother’s calico cat, snoozing in the bay window overlooking the backyard. The cat barely opened one eye at their entrance, then settled back into her comfortable nap.
“If I’d known Eve was bringing a guest, I’d’ve set the dining room table,” Anna fretted, giving Eve an accusatory glance.
“This is better. I like eating in the kitchen,” Adam said.
Eve’s mother hurriedly set a third place, and invited them to sit. Eve said she’d get them something to drink, and when Adam said yes to iced tea, she went to the fridge and took out the pitcher her mother always had on hand. By the time she’d poured them each a glass, Anna had put the food out. Eve and Adam were seated across from each other at the round table, with her mother between them.
