One Way or Another: A Friends to Lovers Contemporary Romance (The Sisters Quartet Book 1)

by Mary J. Williams

  "I'll call a cab."

  "This time of night? In the rain? Good luck." Calder wiggled out of her jacket. She tossed the drenched item into the back of the car. As she hit the gas, she used one hand to steer, with the other, she rung the water from her hair. "Even Uber or Lyft would be an hour's wait. At least."

  "We're on a date. I can't ask you to drive me to another woman."

  "You didn't ask," Calder pointed out. "As for the other woman? She needs help. End of story. Besides, I know a shortcut."

  Adam buckled himself in. He would have preferred not to involve Calder. Except everything she said was true. The rain. The time of night. Especially Aurora. The sooner he found her, the better he would feel.

  "Thank you."

  "Happy to help." She shot him a sideways glance. "One question? How involved are you and Aurora? Obviously, she's familiar with your hardness and size."

  Silently, Adam cursed Aurora and her big mouth.

  "We've been intimate."

  "Okay." Calder snorted. Then outright laughed. "Look, I ask for one reason. I don't want step on another woman's toes. So to speak. If you're dating, or screwing, or whatever, on a regular basis, I—"

  "We aren't. I mean we have. Obviously. Off and on. Had sex, that is. We never dated."

  Adam had never attempted to explain to one woman his situation with another. He'd never felt the need. But Calder was different. How and why, he hadn't decided. She'd asked a question. She deserved an answer. Scrambled and scattered as the answer might be.

  "I've known Aurora since grade school. We were friends. Just friends. After I returned from the Navy, we reconnected. We'd hang out. We'd have sex. Neither on a regular basis. Now?" Adam shrugged. "Tonight's the first time I've heard from her in months."

  "Yet, you're the one she called when she needed help."

  "She knows I'll come. I don't know what else to say."

  "You said enough." Calder smiled. "Aurora's very lucky to have someone she can count on."

  "Thanks. Again."

  A bit surprised—one hundred percent relieved—Adam relaxed. Calder was quite a woman. A woman he didn't want to lose. She could have balked at his need to help Aurora. She could have argued. Or thrown a fit. Or simply left him to fend for himself.

  Instead, she jumped into action. Not to criticize or complain. But to help.

  Calder's touch drew him back from his musings.

  "You're a good person, Adam Stone."

  "So are you, Calder Benedict." Adam squeezed her hand. "So are you."

  ~~~~

  CALDER HAD AN advantage over the average Manhattanite. First, she'd lived here since birth. Second, to do her job, she needed to know the lay of the land. The best venues for events. The charity-inclined businesses—and those whose owners hid when they saw her coming.

  Third—and maybe most important to help Adam find his friend—she'd started dating on the cusp of her fifteenth birthday. Dates which took her to countless restaurants, dance clubs. Taverns. Bars. And, when the mood was right, a few less than reputable dives.

  Clam Diggers didn't exactly qualify as the latter. Though the difference was more a matter of semantics than fact.

  Traffic had been surprisingly light. In less than thirty minutes, Calder cruised by the bar, eyes peeled for a parking spot. Busy night, cars lined the street as far as the eye could see.

  She was about to circle back when a spot opened at the end of the block.

  "Good thoughts and a hefty dose of luck." Neatly parked, she turned off the engine. "Okay. What's the plan?"

  Calder could tell Adam was worried. Distracted. He'd kept his thoughts to himself during the trip, and she let him.

  "I get Aurora. Hopefully with as little fuss and muss as possible."

  "Okay. Let's go."

  "I'd prefer you wait here."

  Of course, he would. And good luck to him. Chuckling to herself, Calder opened the car door.

  "Well?" She looked over her shoulder. "Are you coming?"

  Calder didn't wait for an answer. The rain turned into a fine mist. More annoying than anything else. The layers of relatively dry clothing kept most of the cool night air at bay as she dashed from the warm car interior, toward the bar.

  Adam was right by her side. Just inside the door, he pulled her aside. Music—eighties heavy metal—blasted from strategically placed speakers. The point was to promote dancing and drinking. Not intimate conversations. His lips near her ear, he still had to shout.

  "I want to apologize ahead of time for anything Aurora might say or do. She tends to speak before she thinks. Especially when she over-imbibes."

  "You're worried about my tender sensibilities?"

  When Adam nodded, his blue eyes filled with concern, Calder's insides melted. Honestly, the man was seriously adorable.

  "Find Aurora. I promise, nothing she says can hurt my feelings."

  Though Adam didn't look convinced, he nodded, his gaze moving around the crowded room. One lone woman with only one set of eyes to find her. And too many continuously moving bodies.

  The numbers weren't in Adam's favor.

  "Do you have a picture of Aurora?"

  "Maybe." Adam held out his phone. Calder watched as the images scrolled by. "There she is."

  The photo was a group shot. Four men. Three women. Laughing, their arms around each other. A lake in the background. Since he wasn't in the shot, Calder assumed Adam had acted as photographer.

  "A couple summers ago at a friend's cabin."

  Adam pointed to a pretty woman with neon bright-red hair. Below average height. Curvy and buxom. Interesting. Physically, Aurora was Calder's polar opposite.

  "I'll check the bathroom," she told him "Then circle back around. Meet you at the bar."

  Adam nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Text me if you find her. Or run into trouble. Or… You know what? Text me every few minutes."

  With a jaunty salute, Calder plunged into the crowd. Adorable and protective. The first attribute she could take all day and a month of Sundays. The second was fine—in small, appropriately doled-out doses. Adam didn't strike her as a hardnosed male chauvinist. More a cautious pragmatist. He might not like leaving her alone. However, he understood the sooner they found Aurora, the better. Separately, they could accomplish their goal twice as fast.

  "Calder? Hey! Calder!"

  At the sound of her name, Calder scanned the room. Her frown turned into a look of surprise when she found the source. Furiously waving a hand in the air, Milo Prendergast shoved his way toward her, oblivious to the nasty stares he left in his wake.

  "Hey, babe. Good to see you."

  Milo's greeting made Calder cringe. Babe? Really? Ugh. Even if their last meeting hadn't ended on a sour note, he should have known better. Especially if his goal was to get back on her good side.

  "Interesting choice of outfits." Milo looked her up and down, his gaze critical. "And what the hell happened to your hair?"

  For some reason, she'd forgotten why she knew about Clam Diggers. Now she remembered. Milo had taken her here on their second date. He thought he would impress her with his bad boy behavior. At the time, she'd chuckled to herself. Neither Milo nor the bar could pull off the vibe needed to qualify as bad. Wannabes. Both of them.

  Milo, the epitome of preppy chic, looked like a refugee from a John Hughes movie. Without the time or inclination to trade fashion quips, she kept the observation to herself.

  "I'm looking for someone, Milo. If you'll—"

  "Who? Give me a name." Milo made a sweeping gesture. "Kind of my crowd, you know?"

  Actually, Calder had no idea. Milo had always been an ass. Tonight, he took the term to another level. But what the heck? No harm in asking.

  "Aurora. I don't know her last name."

  "About five foot nothing? Humongous breasts?"

  Relieved to know Aurora was nearby, Calder let the breasts remark pass.

  "Where is she?"<
br />
  "Table in the back."

  Milo nodded toward his right. The best point of reference was a flashing neon beer sign. Calder texted the information to Adam.

  "I decided to give them some privacy. Three's a crowd and all that shit."

  Only half-listening as Milo rambled on, Calder read Adam's response. Meet you there. Frowning, she looked up from her phone.

  "Wait? Who did you leave alone?"

  "Aurora and Bridge. Jeez." Milo rolled his eyes. "I told you. They can't keep their hands off each other."

  Calder's ears rang from the never-ending assault to her hearing. Maybe she'd misunderstood.

  "Did you say Bridge Manfred? As in the drug dealer?"

  "Shh." Milo cautioned. Then proceeded to shout his next sentence. "Bridge likes to keep a low profile on the whole drug business."

  "Can't say I blame him."

  Milo's news didn't send Calder into a panic. Aurora's business with Bridge Manfred had nothing to do with her. She'd clue Adam in. He could warn his friend. Or not. Otherwise, her job was to drive. And backup him up—if needed.

  "Kind of a shame." Calder sighed when a chattering Milo followed in her wake. "I had my eye on Aurora. Sweet little package. Friendly, too. But I'd never try to step on Bridge's toes. He's my guy. Bros before hos."

  Calder had heard enough. She swung around, her eyes narrowed. Something was different about Milo beyond his usual clueless self.

  "Are you high?"

  "Nah." Milo waved off her question. "I did a little blow. No big deal."

  Any amount of cocaine was a big deal in Calder's world. At one time, she assumed Milo felt the same way. Wrong.

  Calder had no words. Stupidity often left her temporarily speechless. She took a deep breath and pushed on. Between the impenetrable crowd, and Milo's ass-hat idiocy, the trip across the bar took longer than anticipated.

  Before she could reach her destination, Adam appeared, an unconscious woman in his arms. Aurora. The combination of a big, muscular body and grim expression were more effective than a battering ram. The bodies parted like the Red Sea.

  "Aurora?" Calder inquired.

  Adam nodded. "Let's get out of here."

  "Lead on, Moses."

  "What did you call me?"

  Calder grabbed the back of Adam's jacket and pushed.

  "Just go."

  "Hey!" Clearly in distress, Milo's voice pitched above the music. "Somebody knocked out Bridge!"

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ~~~~

  "CARE TO TELL me what happened back there?"

  Calder glanced at Adam, sitting in the passenger seat as though they were out for a quiet evening drive. As though whatever took place inside Clam Diggers was an everyday occurrence.

  Her gaze shifted to where Aurora lay sprawled, passed out. The backseat was small. She had Adam's jacket wrapped around her and a half smile on her mouth with just enough smugness to set Calder's teeth on edge. She didn't seem to have a care in the world. Or, more likely, she enjoyed the role of the catalyst which caused all hell to break loose.

  Calder had never met the woman. And she hated to judge. Aurora was Adam's friend. He'd felt strongly that she needed his help. Which made him one of the good guys. As for Aurora? Innocent—for now. Calder considered the jury still out.

  "Well?"

  "Bastard was feeding her pills." With a grimace, Adam flexed his right hand. "Who knows what kind of fucked-up shit was in them."

  "The bastard is Bridge Manfred. He's a drug dealer."

  "A drug—? Shit. How the hell did Aurora hook up with scum like that? Wait?" With the intensity of a laser beam, Adam's gaze landed on Calder. "You know him? How? Why?"

  Questions? Or accusations? The latter, if his tone was anything to go by. Calder felt her temper rise, then took a deep, calming breath.

  Normally, she would tell him to go to hell. Who she knew, and why she knew them was none of his business. Because his emotions were at a heightened level, she would give him a pass—this time—and explain.

  "We met at some party or other. He was introduced as a friend of a friend. Not surprisingly, at the time nobody volunteered how he made a living. I found out later."

  "Right. Sorry." All at once, the anger seeped from Adam's voice—and body. Rubbing his eyes, his head fell back as if he no longer had the energy to hold it upright. "All I wanted to do was take Aurora home. Let her sleep off whatever she'd put in her system. Asshole had other ideas."

  "So, you hit him?"

  Eyes still closed, a slow smile formed on Adam's lips.

  "Went down like a sack of wet bricks."

  When Calder was thirteen and stuck with her father for most of the summer—the feeling was mutual—he took her to a boxing match at one of the big Vegas hotels.

  Front row seats. Surrounded by A-list celebrities. Dressed to the nines. Glitter and glamour as far as the eye could see. Edwin Calder never went anywhere unless he could go first class.

  The pageantry of the event had appealed to Calder. The brutality hadn't. After the first gush of blood, she spent the rest of the time with her eyes closed. Before the start of the fifth round, she left and spent the rest of the evening in her room on the phone with one sister or another.

  His attention divided between the action in the ring, and his latest girlfriend's sizable cleavage, her father never noticed her absence. The next morning, the girlfriend was gone. As was the twenty grand he'd bet—and as usual—lost.

  To this day, Calder didn't care for fights—professional or otherwise. Yet, she would have paid good money to watch Adam clean Bridge Manfred's clock with one mighty blow.

  Her gaze left the road for a second, landing on Adam's hand. The knuckles were red and slightly swollen. And by his wince when he flexed his fingers, painful.

  "Should I detour to the emergency room?"

  Adam shrugged off her concern.

  "Just needs some ice."

  Calder raised Adam's hand to her lips. Carefully, she placed a soft kiss on each knuckle. Then for good measure, her mouth lingered. His fingers. His palm.

  "Better?"

  "Forget the ice. Your kisses are magic."

  Adam's voice took on a gravelly quality that sent a lovely skittering of electricity across Calder's skin. With one last kiss, she released his hand—onto her thigh.

  "The evening isn't going to end the way I'd hoped." Calder checked the dashboard clock. Quarter after one. "Correction. Morning, not evening."

  By now, Calder had hoped to be naked, wrapped in Adam's arms. Rounding the corner of orgasm number two.

  "No. Much to my discomfort." Adam shifted in his seat. When he saw Calder's mouth curve upward, his eyes narrowed. "Go ahead and laugh. My condition is all on you. Kissing my hand with those unbelievably soft lips. How'd you think I would react?"

  "My touch was meant to be strictly medicinal. I have no control over how your body responds."

  Adam's hand moved along the length of Calder's thigh. A light, subtle, relatively innocent caress. Yet, diabolical. If he wanted her to suffer with him, he'd achieved his goal. Their thoughts wandered down the same path. A path—for now—that led to nowhere.

  "I was afraid you might have changed your mind."

  Calder frowned.

  "Why?"

  "You didn't sign on for a bar fight."

  "Does one punch constitute a fight?" Calder teased.

  Adam chuckled. A good sound. He'd regained some of his earlier good humor.

  "As you said, the evening hasn't ended the way either of us expected."

  "Instead of sex with me, you helped a friend." Hardly a difficult choice in Calder's book. "Should I be angry?"

  Adam shook his head.

  "I've known women who would be."

  "You should rethink your taste in women." A twinkle in her eyes, Calder tossed the advice Adam once gave her back in his face.

  "I already did," he countered. "The second
I laid eyes on you."

  Oh, boy. Trouble straight ahead. Calder's pulse jumped. Raced. Was she a fool to believe Adam hadn't just handed her a tried and true line? One he'd used dozens of times? Her instincts said no.

  And if, for once, her never-fail gut was wrong? Calder would deal with the fallout when, no, if, the time came. For now, she wanted a chance to get to know Adam better. In and out of bed.

  "Would you still want to sleep with me if I hadn't been so understanding?"

  "Sure." Adam chuckled. "I'm no fool. Then, I'd dump you like a hot potato."

  "Harsh," Calder accused.

  "Honest," Adam corrected.

  "Fair enough." Honesty was right at the top of Calder's wish list. What choice did she have? She put her cards on the table. "I want to see you again, Adam. If you feel the same?"

  "Like I said, I'm no fool." Adam glanced out the window as Calder turned onto his street. "Next time, I'll shut off my phone."

  "Next time, I'll remind you." She braked in front of the well-lit apartment building. "I have a few fantasies I'd like you to help fulfill."

  "Fantasies?" With a groan, Adam cleared his throat. "About me?"

  "One or two. Believe me, number three will blow your mind."

  Adam hit the release button on his seatbelt, leaning close until Calder couldn't miss the interest in his deep-blue eyes.

  "Now I have to know."

  For a second, Calder was tempted. Everything about Adam made her want to throw caution to the wind. She might have taken the chance, given into the impulse. Except she remembered just in time they weren't alone.

  Calder glanced in the rearview mirror. Thinking back over what was said during the drive uptown, she should have considered Aurora's presence sooner. Just because Adam's friend hadn't moved, didn't mean she wasn't awake. And listening.

  Certain Aurora's eyelids twitched, Calder shook her head. Sorry, honey. The show's over.

  "My fantasies will have to wait," she told him. When he would have protested, she gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Then whispered, "I can come back later tonight. Seven o'clock too soon?"