“Que idiota, he came out of nowhere,” she said, her hand waving in the air. After 33 years in the U.S., her accent was barely noticeable—and to hear it coming out now in her voice meant she was more upset than she’d have Adrian believe. “Olivia said he was drunk. Ay, who is that drunk so early in the morning? They say he’ll be okay, too, but may be arrested.”
“Definitely arrested,” corrected Olivia. She added, “Agata has already instructed me to give him several referrals to rehab programs, counselors and social services.”
Now Adrian let out a genuine smile. “That’s my mama.”
“Pretty sure we’ll see him at Sunday dinner sometime soon,” Alex added, rolling his eyes. He pulled up a chair next to Adrian and patted Agata’s leg lightly.
“What?” Agata waved a hand in the air, her eyebrows raised. “It is not this poor man’s fault he is el imbelcil. It is a disease! And of course, he has no insurance, and his car is totaled, so how will he get to AA meetings without a car?”
“Mama, he’ll be in jail,” Adrian reminded her.
“Not if he makes bail,” Agata said. “Hmph, what good will jail do him? Our correctional system is a complete failure at treating mental illness and addiction. He’ll serve his time and head straight back to the bottle, and then what will happen?” She slapped her hand on the bed railing. “Boom! He hits someone else! Someone who does not have a rich son who can buy his mama a new car.”
Alex let out a roar of laughter. “Listen to that, Adrian. I thought we were going to hear the usual spiel about injustice in our legal system, but no, she was just winding you up for a new car.”
“I’ll get you a new car,” Adrian said, not finding it as funny as Alex. One of the first things he had done when the big commission checks started coming in regularly was offer to buy his mother’s house, which she refused. She was proud of the fact that she’d purchased it on her own, and told him he’d pay off her mortgage over her dead body. She did, however, let him know she’d like a really fast car. He still remembered the look in her eye when he’d screeched to a halt in front of the little cottage where they’d grown up in the bright red Audi Roadster convertible. The car was totally impractical in Seattle, where it rained nine months out of the year, but Agata had clapped her hands like a girl and ever since, loved collecting speeding tickets on a regular basis.
“It’s just a car, Adrian.” Agata laid her hand over his, soothed. “I might like a BMW this time. And you’ll take care of el idiota? He needs bail posted. And a new car. But only when he’s sober. And not as nice of one as mine, of course. Maybe a Toyota. Something nice and sensible. Used, even.”
He sighed. “Yes, Mama.”
Alex pulled Olivia into his lap and chuckled as he nestled his head on top of his wife’s. “Sure glad you’re rolling in it, bro.”
“His enunciation was quite clear, even drunk as a skunk,” Agata murmured, her eyes drooping closed.
Adrian and Alex exchanged smiles. “He’ll be sober and volunteering to teach English at Un Refugio before he knows it,” Adrian noted, referring to the immigrant refugee center where Agata served as executive director.
“The doctor said she’d probably sleep quite a bit the next few days,” Alex said quietly, as Olivia settled herself on his lap. He stroked her hair. “We can grab a bite to eat, if you like, since we all missed breakfast.”
Still, none of them moved. Adrian slid the blanket up to cover his mother, and lightly brushed the hair off her forehead. Her hand moved restlessly, and he lightly held it while she slept, drinking in the sight of her face, beautiful even under the bruises.
“We almost lost her, Adrian.” Alex’s voice was thick.
“I know.” Adrian reached out his free hand and gripped his brother’s arm. “I know.”
They didn’t leave Agata’s side until visitors’ hours ended.
***
Adrian drove away from Alex’s home late that evening, buzzing with a mixture of exhaustion and restlessness. His aunt Sofia had joined them at the hospital to keep an eye on Agata, followed a few hours later by Sofia’s husband, David. By the time visitors’ hours ended, Agata kicked them out, saying she wanted rest and peace and quiet. They all moved to Alex’s house, which was already in chaos due to the remodel that would add a second story onto the little bungalow—and give their one-and-a-half year old twin girls some much needed room to play.
As none of them had eaten much during the day, Alex, a rising star in the Seattle food scene, cooked up a batch of his restaurant’s famous mussel stew, and they feasted on an early dinner. And while the family time felt comforting, by the time Adrian tucked his nieces Lila and Zoe into bed, he was ready to get some air.
There wasn’t room to sleep at Alex’s so he said his goodbyes and now drove to his mom’s house, just a few minutes away. But, once there, he sat in the darkness of the car for a minute, then checked his phone to make sure the hospital hadn’t called.
He realized then he’d never let Nell know how everything went, so he fired off a quick text to let her know Agata was fine and would likely be released from the hospital tomorrow—and that he’d be staying for a while. She responded almost immediately.
“So glad, Adrian. I’ll fly out tomorrow morning. Just text me when you need a flight back.”
He pocketed his phone and took the keys out of the ignition….then stopped, tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He wasn’t ready to go into his mom’s quiet, empty house. On impulse, he pulled out the phone and texted Nell again.
“It’s been a day. Need a drink. Know any good, laid-back bars?”
Moments went by, and he didn’t think she was going to respond, then his phone pinged.
“Sally’s, near Pearson Hotel. I’m here, will save you a seat.”
He smiled and turned the car back on.
Adrian found Sally’s quickly. Cozy leather booths ringed the outside of the dimly lit bar, with a few tables scattered here and there. Some customers played pool at the back. Despite the fact it was the middle of the week, quite a few booths were occupied. Nell sat at a small window table for two, long legs stretched out, her gaze fixed on the near empty glass in front of her.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Adrian sat down across from her and smiled when she looked up. As always, it took him a minute to absorb the visceral jolt he felt whenever he saw her face, her dark almond shaped eyes, smooth olive skin, high cheekbones, lips painted a murderous red. She wore her sleek black hair pixie style, accenting the curve of her neck.
She smiled and leaned back a bit, the top two buttons on her black shirt undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin. On cue, a waitress swung by the table, and Nell pointed to Adrian.
“He’s buying me a gin and tonic.”
“I’ll have the same,” Adrian said, amused.
“So.” Nell studied him. “Your mom’s okay?”
Adrian filled her in on what happened, and Nell’s eyes softened with concern. “Thanks for dropping everything and flying me out here.”
“Of course. I can’t imagine how upset I’d be if something happened to my mom.”
“Yeah.” Adrian paused when the waitress set down their drinks. He blew out a breath, surprised to find himself a bit shaky under Nell’s steady, but kind, gaze. “We got lucky. Really, really lucky.”
“Cheers to that, then.” Nell toasted him, and as they sipped in silence, Adrian eyed her. In her casual dark jeans and boots, her makeup subtle except for the lipstick, she wasn’t on the prowl, that he could tell—he’d seen her dressed up a few times over the past year that he’d been on the Island. She’d damn near brought him to his knees the first time he’d seen her in a deep red dress that looked painted on her long, lean body, her muscular legs going on and on, ending in three-inch spike heels that made his mouth water. She’d reminded him of a sleek panther, out hunting—only her prey would be all too willing.
If he hadn’t heard from Paul that she limited her flings to off-Island men he�
��d have been all over her like white on rice. Adrian loved women, of all shapes and sizes, all cultures, the athletic types, the shy ones, the bold seductresses. But, as of late, to his surprise, he’d found himself envying Alex’s family life, and wishing he too, could find the love of his life. And this one, he thought as he watched Nell over his drink, was well known for her aversion to commitment of any kind.
“We don’t know each other very well,” Nell said.
“Not yet,” he replied easily.
“Still.” She set her drink down and leaned in closer. “You’re friends with Paul, so you must be halfway decent.”
“Thanks for that glowing endorsement.” He looked down, surprised to find his glass empty.
“Another?” She signaled the waitress before he could answer. “Two more, Lina. Hmm. Where was I?”
Adrian leaned back and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Nell held up a hand.
“Oh, right. I plan on having some more drinks. I may get drunk.” She seemed to think a minute, and Adrian began to wonder just how many drinks she’d had already. “Very, very drunk.”
“Any particular reason why?” he asked.
A shadow passed over her eyes but then was gone so quickly he wondered if he’d imagined it. She propped her cheek on her hand.
“I just don’t want to think for a while.”
As the day flashed before his eyes, the smell of hospital antiseptic still lingering on him, Adrian had to admit, the idea held a certain appeal. He could always call a rideshare home.
“Count me in. A gentleman never lets a lady drink alone,” Adrian decided and was rewarded when Nell gave him a slow, sultry smile. He signaled the waitress and ordered two shots. “I need to catch up to you, though.”
“I knew I liked you, Adrian.” She held up her glass for another toast. “To the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
“Cheers to that.” He clinked his glass with hers, and leaned back in his chair, feeling some of the tension of the day seep out of his shoulders. “So, you’re a pilot. That’s pretty hot.” He said it with a friendly smile, pleased when she laughed.
“That was my plan. Reel in the guys one by one. Probably like how you get the chicks from all that artist stuff.” She waved her hand.
“Exactly.”
She smiled a bit. “I know you’re supposed to be a big shot artist but I have to admit, I don’t know much about art. You….sculpt, right?” She leaned in and laid a hand on his arm. “Are you so famous that you’ll be offended that I don’t know you?”
“Hardly. Besides, I’ve been holed up for the better part of the past year. I hardly know anyone on the Island,” he said. “Renovating the house and getting the studio ready has taken up a huge amount of time. And, my family’s been happy to have me so close.”
When the waitress dropped off the shots, Adrian downed them in quick succession, enjoying the fire that blazed down his throat. He eyed one of the other tables, delighted to see they were throwing peanut shells on the floor. “I’ve not seen that in the States,” he said. “It reminds me of this little town in Spain where I lived for about six months. I used to close down the one and only bar in town with the owner, and I’d help him sweep up the shells before I went home.”
Nell smiled. “I like it, too.” She signaled the waitress that they were ready for a refill and asked her to bring them a bowl of peanuts.
“You traveled a lot, then? Paul mentioned he hadn’t seen much of you since college.”
“All over. At first, because I applied for artist residencies, which were often short term. It was a way to live, rent free, and concentrate on my art, but it meant moving quite a bit to wherever they’d fund me. When my sculptures started selling, I realized I still had itchy feet.” He smiled at the waitress when she brought them their drinks and nuts. “You probably have the same, right?”
She shook her head, and he fought off a pang of lust as she licked the salt off her lips. “It’s funny, most pilots do have that wanderlust, but I never wanted to leave the Islands. Sure, there’s places I’d like to see.” Nell looked out the window, her face a bit wistful. “Australia’s top of the list.”
“Definitely,” he agreed. “That’s one of the few continents I didn’t make it to.”
“You still can, right?” She tilted her head, studying him. “Nothing stopping you.”
“Same with you,” he countered, but she shook her head.
“Owning my own business—it’s hard to take time off. It seems like there’s always something that comes up. And…” She took a sip of her drink, looked around theatrically, then leaned in again, beckoning him closer.
Grinning, he obliged.
“You can’t tell anyone this,” she said in a stage whisper. “I have a reputation to uphold as a badass.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” he whispered back.
“I kind of don’t want to go alone.” Nell made a face, rolled her eyes, sat back. “Ugh. I can’t even believe those words came out of my mouth. I mean, it’s not like I need a guy for anything.”
“That’s why I stopped traveling, actually. Decided to settle down,” Adrian admitted.
“Because you need a guy?” Nell asked with a straight face.
He cocked an eyebrow at her, played along. “Maybe I do.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Please. You’re straight as they come. You know what Hannah’s nickname for you is, right?”
“I’m not sure I want to know.”
Nell leered at him. “Tall Drink of Water.”
He laughed. “My brother will get a kick out of that. We’re twins.”
“My God.” Nell fanned herself theatrically. “There’s two of you?”
“Yep.” He smiled wickedly at her. “So what’s your nickname for me?”
“Hmm. I don’t have one yet.” She eyed him over her glass. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Honey, you’d know if I was flirting with you,” he said, amused. “Just like if you put the moves on me I wouldn’t stand a chance. I’d be down and out, a puddle of lust on the floor.” He mimed hitting his heart to restart it.
“Honey, you better believe it.” She leaned over her drink, drawing his eyes to where her shirt parted just enough for him to think about what she might be wearing underneath. When he looked back up, she met his eyes, smirking.
He reached over and ran the pad of his thumb along her jaw, brushed her lower lip. He’d intended it to be a harmless “two can play at this game” gesture but an arrow of lust shot straight through his body at the feel of her luscious lip, and he saw an answering flare of heat in her eyes. Their knees brushed under the table, and Adrian was aware with every fiber of his being that it’d been nearly nine months—nine!—since he’d had sex. He didn’t know if it was that, or the gin and tonics fuzzing his brain, or just the fact that Nell was sexy as hell, but he couldn’t think of anything else but Nell, gloriously naked, those long legs wound tight around him while he pounded himself inside her.
Nell tipped her head back and drained her drink.
“One more for the road?”
“Sure.” He wasn’t sure if she meant, “Hey, buddy, fun and games are over and we’re about to go our separate ways,” or, “Let’s head back to my room and screw our brains out.” And to be honest, he wasn’t sure which he preferred. He figured he was drunker than he thought, or just a masochist, but the uncertainty was turning him on—he was used to being in charge, leading the game of seduction.
She met his eyes and held them while silence fell between them. A slight flush along her cheekbones was the only sign of the alcohol—those deep chocolate eyes remained clear and steady. Nell didn’t take her eyes off of him when the waitress arrived with their drinks.
“Salute,” she said, holding up her glass towards his, then slugging back a third of it.
He tipped his glass towards hers, then drank deeply. He drew in a breath when she licked a drop of gin off her lips. She leaned in cl
oser.
“Adrian, I feel like you and I, we understand each other.”
“I’m not sure,” he murmured, taking another drink.
She laughed.
“Here’s the deal. I wanted to stop thinking.” She gestured toward her drink. “That’s helped. But, I’m still thinking.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Most definitely.”
Under the table, her hand rested on his knee, and began to slide up his thigh, ever so slowly. Adrian grew hard instantly.
“What can we do about that?” he asked her, his gaze level on hers.
Her hand crept closer up his thigh.
“I have a few ideas,” she breathed, close enough now that he felt her breath on his cheek.
“Just how drunk are you?” he asked, reaching out and running his hand up her neck, cupping the back of her head.
She shivered.
“Like I said, I’m still thinking. Don’t worry.” Her fingers slid closer, nearly touching his penis. She whispered in his ear, “I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered, and as she laughed, he closed the distance between them, slid his lips over hers once, twice. At her quick intake of breath, he bit down, not gently, on her lower lip, sucked.
Her hand tightened on his thigh, then closed over his penis, stroking him through his jeans. He’d intended to kiss her lightly, to tease her before pulling away to pay the check. But when her mouth parted and his tongue touched hers, he pressed against those wicked red lips, her hot breath mingling with his. Nell ate up the kiss avidly, their tongues tangling, and he slid his free hand up her side, fingers trailing along the edge of her breast. When she shuddered, bringing both her arms up and around to hold on, her nails digging into his back, he tipped her head back, deepened the kiss. Adrian’s heart pounded in his ears as he tore his mouth away and trailed a line of kisses down her neck, desperate to taste her skin, then came back to her mouth.
He lost all track of time, only pulling away, breath heaving, when the throbbing of his cock became so intense that he needed to get her naked. The noise of the bar registered only dimly through the roaring in his ears.
Love in the Air: Lopez Island Series #2 Page 2
