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

by Mary J. Williams

  "I'm not one of your country club cronies. We'll never be drinking buddies. You know why?" When Hunter didn't answer, Adam tightened his grip. "Do. You Know. Why?"

  "Why?" Eyes bulging, Hunter gasped the word.

  "My friends respect women. Respect. In words and actions. Women aren't toys placed on Earth for your enjoyment. Money? Muscle? Neither gives you the right to take what isn't freely offered. Understand?"

  Bit by bit. Word by word. Adam could feel his control slip. Hunter's face blurred, replaced by one of the anonymous bastards who hurt his mother. The image his imagination pieced together over the years. Retribution. His hand shook at the prospect. Tighter. Tighter.

  Someone had to pay for her pain and suffering. Finally—

  "Adam. Let go. Please."

  The voice—familiar, soothing—drifted along the perimeter of the swirling, enveloping, red haze. Subconsciously, he knew what was right. The grip of revenge was seductive. Strong. Almost more than he could resist. Almost.

  Calder's hand on Adam's wrist broke the spell. Without an ounce of force, or a harsh word. Her touch slowly cooled his blood. Calmed his anger.

  Perhaps, saved his soul. With a shove, Adam let go.

  Hunter staggered. He rested his hand against the wall. Rubbed his reddened neck, coughing.

  "Call the police," he wheezed. "The lunatic attacked me for no reason."

  "Adam? Are you with me?" Calder cupped Adam's chin. She didn't give Hunter a second look. "Are you okay?"

  "The hell with him. I'm the one he almost killed."

  Finally, Calder spared Hunter the briefest glance.

  "Dial down the drama." Contempt practically dripped from her tongue. "Adam didn't want to kill you."

  "How do you know?"

  Good question, Adam thought. Murder's muse had whispered in his ear. Tempted him. More than he wanted to admit. Without Calder, he didn't know if he could have stopped himself in time.

  Calder's response surprised him.

  "You're breathing. If he wanted you dead, you'd be dead." Calm, matter of fact, Calder met Adam's gaze. "Am I right?"

  Adam gave a brisk nod. Calder was right. However, the jury was still out on what he'd wanted before she came along and returned his sanity.

  "Case closed."

  Aghast, Hunter watched as Calder calmly slipped her hand into the crook of Adam's arm.

  "Are you out of your fucking mind? If you won't call the cops, I will."

  "You want to explain to the police why Adam caught you snooping around my bedroom?" Calder directed her next question to Adam. "When the press gets wind of the story, what will the headlines read? What will the tabloids call him?"

  Adam shrugged. And couldn't wait to hear her answer. She tapped her finger to her chin as she pondered the possibilities.

  "Ingo Hunter. Jewel thief? Panty pilferer?"

  "Panty— Don't be ridiculous. Nobody would believe such a claim." Though Hunter scoffed at the idea, he wisely didn't reach for his phone. "I'll let the incident slide. But if you touch me again, you'll be sorry."

  Hunter staggered off toward the elevator with as much dignity as he could muster. Which under the circumstances, wasn't much. The whoosh of the doors signaled he'd left to lick his wounded pride.

  "You okay?"

  Multiple unanswered questions about what happened and why hung in the air. He'd carried emotional baggage into her home. Almost spilled blood on the floor only feet from the bed where a few hours earlier she'd shared her body with joy and abandon. Yet, Calder's first thoughts were for him. About his welfare.

  Adam felt humbled. And sick to his stomach.

  "I should go."

  "What you should do is come here." With the strength of steel wrapped in velvet, Calder held him close. Her lips brushed his ear. "Breathe."

  "I—"

  "Just breathe."

  Adam's mind protested. He wanted to go. Crawl into a dark place. Brood until the ugly passed. His body had other ideas. Without thought, air filled his lungs. His muscles slowly relaxed. The fragrance of Calder's hair, the touch of her skin, calmed his chaotic senses.

  "You could make a fortune from your brand of magic."

  As she smoothed back his hair, a smile formed on Calder's lips.

  "I already have a fortune. Besides, I have a feeling my magic would be useless on anyone but you."

  Adam had the feeling Calder was wrong. Selfishly, he hoped she never wanted to find out.

  Reluctantly, he stepped away. Calder kept hold of his hand.

  "Cancel your meeting. We'll drink some tea. Spend the afternoon snuggling on the library sofa."

  "A witch and a temptress. How am I supposed to say no?"

  "You aren't." Calder met his gaze—and sighed. "But you will. Okay. New plan. You go to your massively important meeting."

  Calder never gave up so easily.

  "What's the catch?"

  "I drive. You ride."

  "And I tell you what Hunter did to set me off?

  "Such a smart man." Calder beamed. She took out her phone.

  "I can drive myself." Adam felt the need to state the obvious—if only for the sake of his pride.

  "Your nerves aren't in any condition to deal with New York City traffic. I'll grab my purse and we can— Sara? Reschedule my two o'clock with Declan Springfield. I'm off the clock for the rest of the day."

  As her long legs ate up the distance to her office, Calder rattled off instructions to her assistant.

  "I can drive myself," Adam called out.

  Back in a flash, Calder produced a key which she used to lock her bedroom door.

  Adam nodded his approval.

  "Smart."

  "Sad. Here. In my home. I never felt the need to bar anyone from my personal space. Until now. Another reason to hate Ingo Hunter."

  Adam wished he had the power to take the shadow of sorrow from Calder's eyes. The only way was to remove Hunter from her life. Permanently. Since he had his emotions under control—for the most part—murder wasn't an option.

  If Billie Benedict didn't come to her senses and toss Hunter to the curb, they'd hope Dee Wakefield could dig up enough dirt to end the relationship.

  A bonus would be jail time. But Adam understood how the real world worked. Rich, powerful snakes rarely paid their dues behind bars.

  "Come on." Calder stopped at the top of the stairs. "Don't want to keep your client waiting."

  The smile on Calder's lips didn't fool him. Under the surface, Adam caught a hint of self-satisfaction. Better than sadness any day, Adam couldn't let the moment pass. He had to set her straight on a very important point.

  "If I wanted, I could leave without you."

  "I know."

  Adam took the hand Calder offered. He wanted her to know he appreciated how much she cared. Besides, he liked to touch her. As often as possible.

  "I let you win." Adam refused to drop the subject until he was certain Calder understood.

  "Of course you did. Now and then, I'll let you win. To prove my point. You can drive."

  In spite of himself, Adam chuckled as they left the house and crossed the street. Two strong personalities were bound to clash from time to time. Knowing himself—and Calder—they were destined for some straight-out fights. Followed by some damn fine make-up sessions.

  Adam opened the passenger door.

  "You're impossible."

  Calder slid into the car. Eyes sparkling, she buckled her seatbelt.

  "Would you want me any other way?"

  "Not in a million years."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ~~~~

  A PERFECT LATE May afternoon. Blue skies and sunshine. Eyes closed, Calder lifted her face to the light and smiled.

  The smidgeon of guilt she'd felt after she pushed her company on Adam didn't last long. He might not realize, but he needed her with him. Alone, he would have brooded. Stewed in his proverbial juices.
<
br />   Calder could have stayed home. Worried about Adam's state of mind. She felt better beside him where she could pull him out of himself. Make him talk.

  Talking was always a good idea.

  At the first red light they hit, Adam surprised her. He started the discussion without Calder's urging.

  "Hunter must have assumed you weren't in the house." Adam slipped on a pair of sunglasses to combat the sun's glare. "Claimed the whole thing was a mistake. Big house. Wrong floor."

  "Yadda, yadda, yadda." Calder didn't buy the lame excuse any more than Adam.

  The light turned green. Adam stepped on the gas.

  "I caught him before he entered your room."

  "How can you be certain?"

  "Timing was off. Add the disgruntled, fuck you, look in his eyes."

  Calder hoped Adam was right. If she believed Hunter had pawed through her things, she would need a fumigator. Doable. But inconvenient and time consuming.

  Adam laughed, shaking his head.

  "Where the hell did you come up with panty pilferer?"

  "Beats me. Besides, Hunter's probably more of a sniffer."

  "Jesus, Calder. Did you have to put that image in my head?"

  "I hate to suffer alone."

  "Glad I could help." Adam slowed to let a pedestrian cross. "You should contact your sisters. Tell them to follow your lead and lock their doors."

  "I texted them before we left the house." Calder frowned as her thoughts grew darker. "I doubt Hunter was after jewelry."

  "Or your underwear?"

  With just enough zing to drive home her point, Calder jabbed Adam's thigh.

  "From now on, panty jokes are officially taboo. Agreed?"

  Adam's lips twitched. But he had the good sense to nod.

  "Hunter is many things, but he isn't a fool. You want information on him. Whatever his long game, odds are he'd be after the same."

  Logical. Except they had Dee Wakefield.

  "Why do the dirty work himself when he can afford an investigator?"

  "Chances are, he has someone on the case. But, whoever he hired doesn't have access to your home."

  Calder nodded.

  "Thanks to Billie, Hunter can go wherever he wants when we're not around to stop him."

  "I'm sorry. But, yes."

  With a simple brush of his hand over hers, Adam told her so much. Though Calder couldn't read his eyes through the dark lenses, she knew he was there for her.

  "Right now, an unknown person could be sifting through the minutia of my life. Personal and professional. Past and present." Calder rubbed her arms as a chill ran across her skin. "I'm not happy, Adam. Not happy at all. Am I a hypocrite? You know what? Never mind. I don't give a crap."

  Adam—dear, sweet, thoughtful Adam—turned the heat to full blast.

  "The hell with hypocrisy. We need to get Ingo Hunter out of your life by any method necessary."

  "Fair or foul?"

  "Exactly." Adam shot her a look before he changed lanes. Finally, he addressed the elephant in the car. "Short of murder."

  "If I hadn't come along, you would have pulled yourself back before you did serious damage."

  "I'm not so sure."

  "I am."

  Calder hadn't known Adam long. Yet, they'd achieved an intimacy she'd never come close to with men she knew her entire life. Dinners. Lunches. Late-night phone calls. He'd elevated her sex life to heights she hadn't thought possible.

  Obviously, Adam had hidden depths. Parts of himself he held close. Rarely—if ever—shared. Didn't everyone? If Calder had her way, she'd have time to explore every side of his personality—good and bad

  For now, she would rely on her gut, a little faith, and the absolute belief in two things. Adam Stone would do anything in his power to keep her safe—come hell or high water. Self-defense was one thing. Calder knew he wasn't a murderer.

  However, something beyond Hunter's unauthorized snooping set Adam off.

  "You can tell me anything. I can't guarantee what my reaction will be. But I promise to listen."

  Adam parked the car next to a twenty-four-hour laundromat. Hands on the wheel, he stared out the windshield.

  "The story isn't mine. Not really." With a sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I need to ask someone before I tell you. Can you wait a little while longer?"

  "Of course. When you're ready."

  "Thank you."

  No, Calder mused, thank you. Adam, so thoughtful and caring about another person's feelings accomplished what she hadn't believed possible. As good as he was? He found a way to get even better.

  ~~~~

  "I KNOW WE need to talk about Ingo Hunter." Bryce scrunched her face as if she tasted something rotten. "First, I need to get girly."

  Certain she knew what was about to come, Calder held up her hand.

  "Don't. I beg you."

  Calder could have held back the tide before she could put the brakes on a determined Bryce. Like a giggly teenager, her sister plopped onto the sofa.

  "You had a boy in your room!" Bryce wiggled close. "I need deets."

  "Deets? Really? From the woman who complains the world needs to stop with the slang and use proper words?"

  "You think you can distract me. But you can't."

  Bryce and her infamous one-track mind. Calder rolled her eyes. For once—and only once—she wished her twin was more like their mother.

  "Distract you from what?"

  Destry, a can of Coke in one hand, a mammoth sandwich in the other, chose the chair near a small end table. She set down her snack, waiting for someone to answer.

  "Calder broke the unwritten rule."

  Destry snorted.

  "Which one?"

  "The no sex in our rooms rule?"

  "Ah." Incongruously, Destry took a bag of potato chips from the pocket of her silk pants, an apple from the other. "I thought Andi blew the no-sex rule out of the water a long time ago."

  "Never in my room," Andi said. She shut the door behind her. Dressed for her own pleasure, she wore jeans and a long-sleeved Columbia University t-shirt. Her blond hair hung loose, and her feet were bare. "The linen closet by the third-floor landing saw some action. And a first-floor guest bathroom."

  "Go, Andi!" Destry popped a chip into her mouth. "I assume he who shall not be named was your partner in crime?"

  "Yes. And, you can say Noah's name. I won't break into a million pieces." Andi had the good grace to shrug. "Not anymore."

  "How are things on the Gerry Norton front?"

  Calder was genuinely interested. The change of topic, off her love life onto Andi's, was a happy bonus.

  "I like him. He's… uncomplicated."

  "I.E.? Boring."

  The look Andi sent Destry was meant to quell. Little sister wasn't impressed.

  "Gerry is a gentleman. I swear, if you say boring one more time, I will kick your ass."

  Grinning, Destry held her hands up in defeat. Andi might look like a fashion model, but she had a right hook that could down a linebacker.

  "Gerry's a gentleman. Andi got down and dirty in the linen closet, etc. Doesn't change what Calder did with hunky Adam. In her bedroom."

  Bryce didn't care about unwritten rules. None of them did. They weren't kids anymore. They didn't judge each other's choices. However, their home was a special place. If one sister brought home a man, they all knew he wasn't a casual fling.

  "Adam isn't boring." To say the least. "He's…"

  Sandwich forgotten, Destry leaned closer.

  "Yes?"

  "He's Adam."

  Destry groaned. Bryce sighed. They didn't understand. Until they met someone indescribable, they never would. Andi remained silent, but her blue eyes spoke volumes. She knew what Calder meant. Now and then, when a woman was very lucky, she needed only one word to describe a man.

  Adam? Andi mouthed his name. Neither Bryce nor Destry noticed the silent question b
etween sisters. Calder swallowed—and nodded. The moment felt huge. As if she hovered a step away from the vast unknown. No parachute. No net. Unsure if she'd take the plunge alone, or if someone—the one—waited to fall with her.

  "Can we move on to the real reason for our little gathering?" As she passed, Andi patted Calder's shoulder. Taking a seat near Destry, she crossed her legs. "What did Ingo Hunter think he would find in Calder's room? Has he already checked my room? Or Bryce's?"

  "Yuck."

  Bryce spoke for all of them.

  "How can we know?" Destry asked, as puzzled as the rest of them. "I'm gone so much of the time. Anything of value, I have stored in a safe deposit box. The question is, what does Hunter consider valuable?"

  "Information?" Calder gave the answer she mulled over with Adam. She tossed in the possibility that Hunter had hired his own investigator.

  "Makes sense," Destry said. "Any agenda he might have, the more he knows about us, our family history, the better chance he'll get what he wants."

  "Billie doesn't know how to keep anything to herself. I know," Bryce laughed. "Hardly a news flash. Just hear me out. Ask her a personal question, she'll talk for hours. However, even our mother might have her limits if someone asked too much, too often."

  Calder spent the better part of a sleepless night as she mulled over what they knew. The result? A major case of mush brain. Bryce, Andi, and Destry gave her a sense of rejuvenation. Fresh perspectives. As always, four Benedict sisters were always better than one.

  "Hunter can search the house. Our rooms. Find information a professional investigator wouldn't have access to. Smart." Calder hated to use the word, but she might as well be honest. No one here would judge. "I'd do the same if I had access to his home."

  "Not a bad idea."

  "No, Destry." Andi's tone, the heat in her eyes, brooked no argument. "Breaking and entering is a crime. And dangerous. And stupid."

  "I agree."

  Andi's gaze narrowed.

  "You never give in without an argument. What's the catch?"

  "So suspicious." Dramatically, Destry clutched at her chest. "I'm wounded."

  "And I smell a pile of crap. What's your plan?" Bryce asked.

  "She has no plan because she isn't going near any property owned by Ingo Hunter. Right?"