Five Minute Man: A Contemporary Love Story (Covendale Book 1)

by Abbie Zanders

Oh well, she lamented, searching for the positives. At least the cottage got a good, and much-needed, cleaning. The anticipation of seeing him again had done wonders for her creativity. She had finished off that historical she had been stuck on for two months and made significant progress on two or three others.

  “Yes?”

  “I was thinking maybe I could pick up something to eat on the way, if that’s okay with you. I won’t have time to grab something after work. Unless you have other dinner plans, that is,” he added hastily.

  He wasn’t canceling? He was offering to bring dinner? She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it.

  “Holly, are you there?”

  “Um, yeah, I’m here,” she said, leaning against the counter and bringing the phone back to her ear. Max looked up at her and blinked. “Sorry. That would be great, actually.”

  “Do you like Chinese?”

  “I love Chinese,” she admitted.

  “Great. Anything I should avoid?”

  “I’m not big on seafood.”

  She thought she heard a sigh of relief. “Me neither. So, I’ll see you about six tomorrow?”

  “Six is good.”

  Holly hung up the phone and did a little happy dance right there in the kitchen. “He’s still coming, Max! And he’s bringing dinner! Chinese food!”

  Max’s ears perked up in interest. He loved Chinese take-out almost as much as she did.

  Chapter 10

  Well, the cottage looked as good as it was going to. The floors had been swept and Swiffered, the area rugs beaten and aired out. The wood was polished, shelves dusted. She didn’t have an abundance of furniture, but what she did have was vacuumed and treated to a clean-smelling fabric refresher. Max’s toys had been picked up and deposited in the baskets she had in each room, though he was quietly emptying them every time she wasn’t looking. A vase of fresh flowers picked from the garden out back sat on the table, and a subtly scented vanilla candle burned in the kitchen, mixing with the aroma of the lemon cream cake she had baked that afternoon. The cottage wouldn’t win any featured pages in House Beautiful, but it looked neat and cozy, and smelled clean and inviting.

  Holly changed her outfit no less than six times before finally deciding on a pair of comfortable yet stylish leggings and an oversized tunic tee that was both slimming and managed to make her look a little taller than she was. The resulting ensemble was casual, yet more suited to company than the pajama pants or ancient but oh-so-comfy faded jeans she normally wore around the house.

  With a final spritz of light white musk, her favorite fragrance, she checked her hair one last time. She had opted to leave it down, but tamed it with a thin, flexible hairband that she hoped said: “I like you, but I’m not trying to impress you.”

  Which was total bullshit, of course.

  The sound of a truck making its way up her gravel driveway sent a flutter of butterflies through her stomach.

  Max’s ears perked up, and he moved to the big picture window, pushing aside the lace curtains with his nose to get a better look. He glanced back at Holly questioningly.

  “It’s okay,” she confirmed, peeking out from the side. “That’s Adam.”

  Accepting this, Max went back to looking out the window.

  When the doorbell rang a few seconds later, Holly closed her eyes and counted to three, not wanting to seem too anxious. Then she wiped her sweaty palms on her leggings and opened the door.

  “Hi,” she said, not having to force or fake her smile.

  Adam looked even better than she remembered. Dressed in jeans and a form-fitting black thermal shirt, it was hard not to stare. His dark hair looked damp as if he had recently taken a shower. The scent of male soap and something decidedly warm and musky hit her, and she inhaled deeply, anxious to fill her lungs with it.

  “Hi.” He grinned back, holding two large bags in his hand.

  Max pushed between Holly and the doorframe, sniffing at the food.

  “Max, don’t be rude,” she chastised lightly. She looked back up at Adam. “Don’t mind him. He loves Chinese.”

  ADAM GRINNED AND FOLLOWED her inside. He had every intention of looking around and checking out the interior, but he could not seem to tear his gaze from the stunning view of Holly’s backside as she walked in front of him. The long shirt covered it, but clung just enough to whet his appetite and be transfixed by the hypnotic sway of her hips.

  “Great place,” he said, wishing he had actually looked.

  “I think so. How about we put those in the oven to keep warm while I give you the grand tour before it gets too dark?”

  “Sounds good.”

  What smells so good? Was that her, or something else? Whatever it was, it was making his mouth water. Since his cock was rousing with interest, too, he concluded that it was probably not just the delicious-looking cake on the raised glass display plate.

  She took the bags from his hand and placed the containers in the oven, bending over and giving him a perfect view of her ass. Heart-shaped. Firm. Perfect. He just barely managed to contain his groan before she stood up and faced him again.

  “This is Max, by the way. Max, this is Adam, the guy I was telling you about.”

  Max held up one paw as if to shake.

  Amused, Adam went down on one knee and took his paw. “You told him about me?”

  “Of course. You wouldn’t have gotten in the door otherwise. He’s very protective.”

  As if he understood, the dog smiled, actually smiled, at him, revealing some very big, very sharp fangs. Combined with his eyes—one blue, one brown, both outlined in coal black, giving him a demonic appearance—he looked capable of doing some serious damage. Thankfully, he seemed friendly enough.

  “Interesting markings.”

  “Yeah. He freaks some people out. I was going to call him ‘Devil Dog,’ but he seems to like Max better.”

  “Understandable,” Adam said, though he wasn’t sure he understood at all. Then Holly smiled at him and he forgot everything else.

  “Well, this is the kitchen. Duh, right?” she said, blushing. “This is the only room I’ve been able to fix up so far, but doing it right takes money and time.”

  Adam forced his eyes from Holly and took a look around. What had at one time probably been a dining room was now a cozy breakfast nook with a nice view of the gardens out back. Real, solid wood cabinetry and trim completed the space, the grain gleaming beneath a polished, satiny finish.

  “The cabinets have been redone?”

  “Yeah,” she said proudly. “They had about a hundred coats of varnish on them. It took me a couple weeks and a dozen cans of refinisher, but I got them all stripped, sanded, and re-stained.”

  He turned incredulous eyes her way. “You did this yourself?”

  She bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You did a great job.” Another few checks went into the “pro” column. She obviously had good taste, didn’t shy away from difficult tasks, and wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.

  “Thanks,” she said, clearly pleased by his praise. “The counters and sink I had done professionally, though.”

  He nodded. She was intelligent and practical, too. “Smart choice. Laying granite is tricky, and you’re better off having a master plumber work on the pipes. Solid copper, I’m guessing?”

  Holly nodded. “The plumber said he hadn’t seen anything like them in ages.”

  Holly then led him through the small cottage, showing him the living area, the small guest room/workout area, and the two bedrooms and a bath upstairs. Then they went outside and walked the grounds.

  “How big is the lot?” Adam asked, looking around him.

  It was a beautiful piece of land. About an acre of cleared lawn surrounded the stone cottage, secluded but within a reasonable driving distance to town. There was a nice stone patio right off the back of the kitchen. Flowering trees and shrubs dotted the backyard, along with patches of flower gardens. It had a very soothing, pleas
ant feel. Someone knew what they had been doing when they planned it out. Like the rest of the place, all it needed was a little TLC to be paradise. His hands were itching already.

  “About five acres, give or take. The property includes quite a bit of wooded land. I like it, though. I see all kinds of wildlife—deer, foxes, lots of bunnies and squirrels. They like to parade in front of the window and tease Max.” She reached down and gave Max a scratch between the ears. “He pretends to be annoyed, but he loves it.”

  “He doesn’t chase after them?”

  “He does if they’re in the yard, but he never goes beyond the tree line. I found him in the woods when he was just a puppy. He was in pretty bad shape. I think he’s afraid. You know, leftover trauma or something.”

  Christ. She rescues puppies, too? He was half-tempted to check under her shirt for wings. Of course, if the shirt came off, he would probably forget about the wings and concentrate on her breasts. Not overlarge, but big enough to fill his large palms.

  Right. Not helping. What were they talking about? Oh yeah. The dog.

  “You talk about him like he’s a person.”

  Holly stopped and looked at him. “He is, kind of, but better than most of the people I’ve met. Present company excluded, of course,” she added with a wry grin. “We understand each other, he and I.”

  Adam acknowledged the compliment with a slight inclination of his head, yet wondered what kind of people she’d had to deal with. She had already alluded to strained relationships with her family, but who else?

  He wanted to ask. He wanted to know everything about her. But behind that quick wit and self-confidence, he saw uncertainty, making him afraid to push too hard.

  “So, what do you think?” she was saying.

  What did he think? He thought he wanted to go back in the house and see if she tasted as good as she smelled, and felt as soft as she looked. He thought he wanted to forget the house and dinner, and spend the rest of the night burrowing into her sexy little body before something came along and burst his perfect bubble. Because, she couldn’t possibly be as perfect as she seemed. If she was, then she might possibly be the woman he had been looking for his entire life.

  Instead of saying any of those things and running the risk of scaring her away—he was a bit scared himself—he said, “I think this place is wonderful. With a little bit of effort, it could be perfect. You made a good choice, Holly.”

  Her smile set off a series of fireworks in his chest. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and kiss the daylights out of her right then and there. It was a feeling he was becoming all too accustomed to. That particular urge seemed to hit every time he was in her presence.

  “Is that your professional opinion?” she asked, fluttering those thick lashes over those pretty green eyes. It was so natural she probably wasn’t even aware she was doing it.

  “Yeah.” His personal one, too.

  “I’m sure you have some really good ideas on how to fix it up.”

  Shit, yeah, he did, and all of them involved him working closely with her, doing things together. He could just picture her in a pair of old jeans, wearing one of his big flannel shirts, hair pulled back in a ponytail, covered in dust and smiling at him as they restored this place together. They would take lots of breaks, properly christen each room ...

  He shrugged. “A couple. I’m sure you have a few of your own. You’ve done great so far.”

  Another smile, this one setting off more fireworks in his chest and his groin. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this hard and hot for a woman.

  “We can talk about some of them over dinner. Are you hungry?”

  Starving. “Yeah, I could eat.”

  Chapter 11

  “I really enjoyed your company tonight, Holly,” Adam said several hours later. They had eaten the Chinese food he had brought while talking over ideas and possibilities for a quality redo. Then she had made coffee, and they had shared some kind of lemony dessert that had melted in his mouth.

  Like the other night at the coffee shop, time had flown by. It seemed like only minutes earlier when he had pulled into her driveway, filled with both anticipation and doubt. Now they stood on her front porch like two awkward teens.

  He knew he had to leave, but he was stalling. Leaving was the very last thing he wanted to do.

  “Me, too,” she said. “I mean, I enjoyed your company.” She gave him a self-conscious smile that damn near curled his toes.

  “Can I see you again, Holly?”

  She shifted her weight slightly. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  Adam might have been sitting on the sidelines for a while, but he had been part of the game long enough to know that she was wondering if he was going to try to kiss her goodnight. He was pretty sure she wanted him to, too. Almost as sure as the fact he wanted nothing more than to do just that ... and a whole lot more.

  If she had been anyone else, he probably would have. He would have pulled her into his arms, kissed her until she couldn’t see straight, then coaxed her back into the house to take care of both of them. But, as much as he ached to do just that, he held back.

  Holly was different, and this connection or whatever it was between them had the potential to be a lot more. He didn’t want to screw things up before he had a chance to find out.

  “I’ll call you.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He reached down and petted Max. “Goodnight, Max. Take care of Holly. Keep her safe.”

  Max looked up at him with those freaky devil eyes and woofed softly as if he had understood.

  “Goodnight, Holly.”

  “Goodnight, Adam.”

  Turning around and walking away from her was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

  When he got in his truck and drove away, he saw her watching him in the rearview mirror. She was still standing on the porch, one hand petting Max beside her. Light spilled over from inside, surrounding her in a glowing nimbus. All he could think about was how much she looked like an angel.

  HOLLY WATCHED ADAM’S taillights fade from view. He hadn’t even tried to kiss her!

  She closed the door and locked it behind her. What did that mean? He had looked like he wanted to kiss her. In fact, for a few minutes there, he looked like he wanted to toss her over the back of the sofa and have his wicked way with her, though that might have been purely wishful thinking on her part.

  He hadn’t kissed her or tossed her over the sofa. He hadn’t done anything.

  Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Had she sent out a bad vibe? Or was he just being a gentleman?

  That was the trouble with being a writer—her imagination put in a lot of overtime. There were so many possibilities, and sometimes it was hard to distinguish between what her mind had conjured and what was real, especially when it came to trying to decipher a man’s signals.

  If this night had been a scene from one of her books, Adam’s behavior could have meant several things.

  Scenario A, and the most likely: After spending some time with her, Adam had decided anything between them was best kept in the “friend zone,” though she had sparked his professional interest.

  Scenario B, and her favorite: He was very interested, but he was also the old-fashioned, gentlemanly type who wanted to court her properly. This scenario was particularly appealing because it suggested his interest went beyond the physical and had relationship potential.

  Or Scenario C, and her least favorite: Not even the allure of this lovely cottage was enough to keep him around, so he had made his exit with polite grace.

  There was one more, remote possibility: He was interested in her, but he didn’t think she was interested in him.

  That wasn’t likely. She couldn’t imagine she had given him the wrong impression, not when she liked everything about him. That had to have come through. And he had been a complete gentleman all night—bringing dinner, listening politely, and saying thoughtful things. He had even helped clear
and wash the dishes!

  And he had said he wanted to see her again. Sure, a lot of guys said that without really meaning it, but Adam didn’t seem like the type to say he wanted to see her and ask if he could call if he didn’t want to and wasn’t going to.

  How could she write successful romances yet suck at the real thing?

  Holly changed into her pajamas, but heading off to bed wasn’t on the immediate agenda. She was too wired, too full of ideas.

  Throughout the evening, she had been mentally translating his looks, his actions, and his words into scenes she could include in her stories. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced he really did want her.

  His gentlemanly restraint forced her creative imagination to run wild with the possibilities.

  Adam was not only hot, intelligent, and interesting, but he really was the perfect muse!

  Chapter 12

  “So ...?” Brandon asked, looking up from his physics book when Adam strolled in. “How did it go?”

  “Good, I think.” It had gone well, hadn’t it? She certainly seemed interested, but maybe he had misread the signals.

  He wasn’t good at this kind of shit. For all he knew, she just wanted him for his professional expertise. Maybe she thought that, by being friendly, he was good for some contractor discounts and free labor. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  No, some part of him said, quickly rising to her defense. Holly’s not like that.

  “Are you going to see her again?”

  “Yeah, probably.” Hell, if it was solely up to him, he would hop in his truck and go back right then. But that wasn’t smart. There were rules to be followed, and right at the top was: don’t do anything stupid. He needed time to process this and give it some serious thought. He wasn’t a kid anymore, jumping in with both feet without taking a really good look around first.

  “When?”

  Shit, he didn’t know. “Don’t you have studying to do?”

  “Yeah, but this is way more interesting.” Brandon grinned unrepentantly. “So ...?”