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

by Abbie Zanders

  Had she been disappointed that he had turned tail and run? Or relieved?

  “You’re off your game tonight,” his friend Chuck observed as they gathered their things. “Everything okay?”

  Adam shrugged while refilling his water bottle. “Yeah. It happens.”

  Chuck looked doubtful, then he caught sight of something over Adam’s shoulder and grinned. “Never mind. I get it now.”

  All Adam could think of was that Chuck had spotted Holly in that form-fitting spandex. Chuck couldn’t possibly know about him and Holly since he hadn’t told anyone, but any guy with a working pair wouldn’t fail to notice her. The thought tapped into his inner caveman and released something sharp and ugly. He turned, ready to place himself between Holly and anyone else’s line of vision and was immediately sorry he had.

  “What’s her name again? Ellen? Erin?” Chuck asked quietly when the woman caught sight of Adam and started making her way over to them.

  “Eve,” Adam said with little enthusiasm and a whole lot of dread. For one very long night, he’d had to endure just how cute she had thought it was that his name was Adam and her name was Eve, a “sure cosmic sign” that they were fated to be together.

  “Right.” Chuck laughed. “Uh-oh, she has an apple. Prepare to be tempted.”

  Adam groaned. Eve really did have an apple in her hand. Not that she needed it. On the surface, the woman was temptation personified. Tall and blonde, with a fuck-me smolder that was so perfect she must have practiced in front of a mirror for hours. Her feminine assets were beautifully displayed, wrapped in workout gear that was more seductive than sporty. Unfortunately, beneath the pretty packaging, the inside wasn’t nearly as nice.

  It was a lesson Adam had learned the hard way. In a classic case of thinking with his little head instead of his big one, he had made the mistake of taking Eve up on her offer once, and he had regretted it ever since.

  Dammit. How could he have forgotten that she taught Zumba Wednesday nights? It was a testament to just how out of it he was. If he hadn’t been so distracted with the idea of seeing Holly, he could have slipped out the back like he usually did. Now he was stuck in the doorway, visible to anyone in the corridor. It would be impossible to make a clean getaway without being obvious.

  Regardless, it was too late now. Eve had spotted him. Double damn.

  “Hi, Adam,” she purred.

  “Hi.” He did his best to not look her directly in the eye. Unlike Holly, Eve was almost as tall as he was.

  A picture flashed in his mind of Holly tucked into his body, head tilted, her big green eyes looking up into his face. Funny how she seemed to fit perfectly against him despite their height differences.

  Eve stepped closer in a clear violation of his personal space. Adam stepped back, his body language speaking for him with a very loud and clear “not interested, please move on” message. Unfortunately, Eve wasn’t one to pick up on subtle clues.

  “I didn’t know you still played here,” she chastised lightly.

  Shit, busted.

  “Sometimes.” He wondered how the guys would feel about switching their games to Tuesdays. It was the one night of the week he knew Holly had standing plans with her friend, according to his nephew.

  Eve’s eyes fixated on a bead of sweat that dripped down his neck, blazing with interest, as it disappeared beneath his tank. She licked her lips. Adam’s inner caveman cringed.

  “When I called the other night, Brandon said you went to a woman’s house. Should I be worried?” She placed her index finger on his bicep and dragged it downward, scraping lightly against his skin. It was a bold move, and one he didn’t appreciate.

  There had been a time when such a deliberate act might have roused his masculine interest, but no longer. Now it seemed he was stirred by petite brunettes who lived alone and were completely unaware of their own desirability. One petite brunette in particular, who should be passing by any moment. He needed this little unwelcome reunion over, pronto.

  “No,” he answered without hesitation. Eve didn’t have anything to be worried about because he was never going to see her again. The fact that he hadn’t returned her calls in the past couple of months should have given her a clue. Unfortunately, as he had already discovered, Eve was the type to overlook those kinds of things.

  Along those lines, he made a mental note to have a word with his nephew the minute he got home. Brandon probably thought telling Eve that Adam was out with someone else would deter her, but Brandon didn’t know Eve well enough to know the lengths she was willing to go through to get what she wanted. For some unfathomable reason, she had decided she wanted him.

  “Who is she? Do I know her?”

  There was no way in hell he was going to give Eve Holly’s name. The last time Eve had seen Adam with someone, the poor woman had received harassing phone calls for a week and had refused to go out with him again, saying he was a nice guy but she didn’t want to have to deal with his unstable ex. He hadn’t been too disappointed, but it had pissed him off just the same. He wouldn’t take that same chance with Holly. What if she decided she didn’t want to deal, either?

  No, as much as he wanted to remind Eve there was nothing between them and never would be, the crowded corridor was neither the time nor the place to set her straight ... again. He knew from experience, and the several polite times he had tried to convince her he wanted nothing more to do with her, that Eve tended not to take rejection well. The last thing he wanted was a scene.

  Adam really didn’t give a shit what anybody thought, but he didn’t want to chance Holly witnessing Eve’s theatrics. It was far better to diffuse and redirect now, then handle the heavy stuff later.

  “It was business.”

  “Oh,” Eve said, her features changing from stormy to friendly again in an instant. Adam breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s different. Why didn’t Brandon just say so? Want to go out this weekend? My friend’s band is playing downtown.”

  Adam didn’t hesitate. “No.” He looked over Eve’s shoulder, scanning the faces. Shit. Was that Holly’s friend coming toward them?

  “Then how about we just go to my place?”

  “Sorry, Eve. I have to run.”

  Adam was not by nature a rude man, but sometimes there just was no choice.

  He spun around and made for the door. As much as he wanted to see Holly, he didn’t want her anywhere near Eve. He would wait in the parking lot. With any luck, Eve would be gone by the time Holly came out.

  HOLLY DUCKED OUT OF sight around the corner, thankful for the tall potted plant that hid her from view, wishing it absorbed the sound of voices, as well. She had come out a few minutes earlier to refill her water bottle while Liz chatted—i.e. flirted shamelessly—with the svelte male yoga instructor. She had only just spotted Adam, looking exceptionally hot in his shorts and wife-beater tank, coming out of the gym with his friend.

  Muscles and a physique that she had only guessed at up to this point made a lovely display indeed, formed and honed by years of manual labor. Broad shoulders, solid chest, naturally sculpted but not gym-ripped. It was the whipped cream icing on a very delectable Adam cake.

  Holly was about to approach him when another woman beat her to it.

  Fighting back an irrational surge of both jealousy and envy—the woman looked like something right out of Playboy or Penthouse with mile-long legs and a set of double-Ds that defied gravity—Holly had stepped back into the shadows. A quick exit was preferable, but there was no way to accomplish that without being seen. To reach the main doors, she would have to cross right in front of them.

  Who was that woman? Judging by the way she leaned close to Adam and was touching him, they were more than casual acquaintances. Holly couldn’t see Adam’s face, but she could see the woman’s. There was no mistaking what was on her mind.

  “When I called the other night, Brandon said you went to a woman’s house. Should I be worried?”

  Holly’s her ears involuntarily tuned into
the dialogue taking place only a few feet away. She turned her back to them and raised her hood, trying to untangle the earbuds she carried in her pocket.

  Eavesdropping was not her thing on the best of days, and she was quite sure she didn’t want to listen in on this exchange. If she could just get her buds in, she could listen to music until they moved on and pretend that crampy, sick feeling in her stomach was from that last set of locust poses.

  “No.”

  Holly heard Adam’s answer clearly. Despite her best attempts, her fingers weren’t moving fast enough to get the buds plugged into her phone and into her ears in time.

  “Who is she? Do I know her?”

  “It was business.”

  Shit, shit, shit! La-la-la! Stop listening! Goddamn made-in-Taiwan pieces of shit! No matter how carefully she wound them, they always got tangled.

  “Oh, that’s different. Why didn’t he just say so? Want to go out this weekend? My friend’s band is playing downtown.”

  Holly didn’t wait to hear his answer. Ensuring her hoodie was in place, she slipped in front of the group of guys coming out of the gym, being extra careful to keep her back to Adam and his ... whatever. For once, she was thankful for her lack of height; it would be all but impossible to see her in front of the guys.

  She climbed into her Sportage and sent a quick text to Liz. Good luck with Mr. Flexible. I’m heading out. Call me tomorrow with details.

  Holly took a deep breath and turned the key. At least now she didn’t have to wonder anymore why Adam hadn’t called her.

  In the twenty-minute drive back to her place, Holly refused to think about what she had just seen and heard, forcing herself to concentrate on the road. Once she got home, however, it was a different story.

  “He’s probably feeling guilty,” she told Max later, putting a scoop of special doggy “ice cream” into his dish, then two scoops of the real thing into hers.

  She blamed herself, at least partially. She had never bothered to ask if Adam was involved with anyone. She had just assumed otherwise, which was stupid on her part.

  “That’s why he left like his pants were on fire and hasn’t called since. He wasn’t supposed to kiss me. Things just got out of hand and he freaked. Caught up in the moment, that’s all. Happens all the time, right?”

  Holly sat down at the kitchen table and stuffed a big spoonful into her mouth. “And me, thinking all that stupid shit! Me, of all people! I should know better than anyone that that ‘finding the right one’ crap doesn’t happen in the real world. If it did, people wouldn’t need to buy my books, now would they?”

  Max looked up at her, licking away the last of the treat from his muzzle.

  “I know, right?” she said around the spoon, hearing the words her faithful companion was incapable of vocalizing in her mind. “I’m pathetic. Falling for my own drivel.”

  Holly scraped out the last of the chocolate marshmallow then put her bowl in the dishwasher, along with Max’s. “I blame myself. And Liz. All that shit about alpha males and five-minute men pushing the right buttons. What a crock of shit.” She added some detergent then slammed the door closed harder than necessary.

  Adam had pressed quite a few of her buttons. He was good-looking and well-built. Intelligent. And had his own successful business restoring old houses, for crying out loud. Family was obviously important to him since he let his nephew live with him while he went to college, and glowed with pride whenever he talked about him.

  Oh, and he could get her lady parts singing with nothing more than that deep voice and a kiss.

  Except for the thrum of sexual tension between them, he had been so easy to be around. Holly had felt comfortable enough with him to talk about her family and her career, both things she rarely spoke of with anyone besides Liz. She had even felt safe enough to invite him to her home.

  She was an idiot. Why would Adam ever want someone like her when he had that blonde centerfold at his beck and call? Holly was pretty sure that, when Adam was with her, they weren’t eating pizza on the floor and streaming movies.

  Of course she already knew the answer to that question, especially since she had heard the answer from Adam himself. It was business. Right. Because she had a centuries-old stone cottage that needed a shitload of restoration and, conveniently enough, that was what he did for a living.

  She had been the one who had invited him over and solicited his professional opinion.

  Holly let Max out one more time, then locked up the house and headed for the shower. Yeah, it was no wonder Adam was willing to put in a little extra effort to garner her business. He had probably been picturing his retirement fund the whole time she was giving him a tour.

  There had been that kiss, though ... There had been nothing business-related about that. Then again, just because it had tilted her axis didn’t mean it had done the same thing for him. The fact that he had bolted right afterward and hadn’t called since should have been a great big clue, and tonight’s encounter had put the last piece of the puzzle into place.

  Holly pulled an old, oversized college jersey over her head, taking comfort in the familiar way the hem touched mid-thigh. Then she brushed her hair and her teeth, taking a good look at herself in the mirror. Tiny lines were starting to become visible around the corners of her eyes and mouth. Though she was far from looking old, she no longer had the dewy glow of youth she once had. There was nothing remarkable about her features. She had the same green eyes and brown hair as the rest of her family, though the dark cherry streaks were a personal indulgence, a symbolic middle-finger to those who decried her creativity and independence.

  She was also a realist and had to face facts. Even on her best hair day, she couldn’t compete with the stunning blonde perfection of the Nordic-looking Zumba instructor.

  Deciding to forego any attempt at writing—undoubtedly, whatever she came up with would reflect her crappy mood—she crawled into bed.

  Max was there a moment later, more than happy to curl up next to her on the other side of her queen-sized bed. He settled down on the pillow with a big sigh and looked at her with his mismatched eyes.

  Holly reached out and let her fingers rake through his thick, silky fur. It was no wonder dogs were brought to hospitals and retirement homes. Just the fact that he was there was a comfort. Between Max and Turkey Hill’s chocolate marshmallow swirl, Holly could handle just about anything.

  Self-pity was not her thing. This was just another bump, another life lesson to remind her why she had chosen to leave her corporate-based career and move out into her own secluded bubble. She just wasn’t wired like everyone else, and sometimes, she forgot that.

  One night. That was all she would allow for feeling sorry for herself. Tomorrow, she would wake up and get right back into the swing of things, a little smarter than she had been yesterday.

  Chapter 16

  The phone rang several times until Holly’s voicemail picked up with a generic message. Adam looked at the display and confirmed that he had punched in the right digits since there was nothing to identify it as Holly’s voicemail—a common but inconvenient safety measure.

  Suddenly, he realized he had no idea what to say. As he listened to the computer-generated voice, he ran through and dismissed the first couple things that came to his mind.

  Hi, Holly, it’s Adam. Sorry I panicked and ran out of your house last Friday.

  Hi, Holly, it’s Adam. I saw you at the Y tonight and you looked really hot. I couldn’t hang around for you, though, because a crazy stalker caught sight of me first.

  Hi, Holly, it’s Adam. I can’t stop thinking about you.

  All were true, but probably not the best messages to leave on her voicemail.

  The monotoned instructions ended, followed by a muted beep that told him he was out of time.

  “Hi, Holly, it’s Adam. There’s a big expo this weekend over in Dalton. Lots of great ideas for renovating, if you’re interested. My number is on the card I left at your place, but just in
case ...”

  Adam hung up after leaving his number and frowned. Where was she, anyway? It was nearly eleven o’clock at night. He didn’t feel bad about calling so late; she had confessed to often working into the wee hours of the morning. It was when she wrote some of her best stuff, she had said.

  Had she gone out with her friend after the Y? That had been hours ago. Maybe she was in the shower. Or outside with Max. Yeah, that was probably all it was. She would call him back in a few.

  After seeing her earlier, he wanted to hear her voice again. Thanks to Eve’s untimely arrival, he had missed the opportunity to speak with her in person; she must have slipped out while he was occupied. He would have to make do with hearing her voice over the phone.

  He couldn’t get her out of his mind. It had been five days—more than enough time to convince him that whatever this thing was between them, he wanted to pursue it. No woman had ever managed to affect him so thoroughly or so quickly, and that had to mean something, right?

  He waited until midnight, checking his phone every few minutes, but she didn’t call. Maybe she figured it was too late. He had told her that he liked to get an early start. Yeah, she was being considerate. She would call him back tomorrow.

  THE MOMENT HIS ALARM went off, Adam pulled out his cell and checked again. Nothing, except for one text that had come through somewhere just before dawn: Thanks, but I can’t.

  That was it. No further explanation. No “I’ll call you later,” or implied invitation, or suggested alternatives. Four words that seemed strangely distant and impersonal from the woman who was anything but.