Adam then took a deep breath and gathered his courage. He carefully pulled at the tape along the folded seam until he could extract the plain white box within. Lifting the cover, he saw a manuscript. He drew in a breath when he saw the title: Five Minute Man.
With shaking fingers, Adam removed the stack of paper from the box, turned to the first page, and began to read.
He read throughout the night, unable to put it down. He had never read anything Holly had written before, but was drawn in from the first page. She had a true gift, able to bring the characters to life, to paint a scene so clearly and thoroughly that he could picture it perfectly.
Of course, part of that might have been because he had lived it.
Hours later, eyes blurry, back aching from sitting for so long, Adam finally reached the last chapter and froze. It consisted of one page, blank, except for three handwritten words scrawled in Holly’s flowing script:
To be determined...
THE STONE COTTAGE WAS a vision. It looked like something out of a Thomas Kinkaid painting. Dusted with glittering snow, carriage lights glowed along the cobblestone pathway leading to the porch. Electric candle lights burned in every window; each sill was draped with boughs of evergreen tied together with big, red bows. In the large living room window, he could make out a Christmas tree, decorated with twinkling white lights and cascading white ribbons. Over the scent of fresh snow and wood smoke, he smelled the mouth-watering aroma of freshly baked cookies. Tollhouse, if he wasn’t mistaken.
Adam fingered the small lump in his pocket and took a deep breath. Then he walked up to the door and knocked, careful not to dislodge the wreath of freshly cut pine that hung there.
As if she had been waiting for him, Holly opened the door almost instantly, wearing an oversized holiday-themed sweatshirt and slim fitting leggings that showcased the lovely curves of her legs. She looked smaller than he remembered, more fragile, but so much more beautiful. The light from within created a glowing nimbus around her head, making her look like an angel. The image took his breath away.
She tilted her head up, those big green eyes looking right into his with so much guarded hope he thought his heart might explode.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Holly,” he said, his voice thick.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Adam,” she said in that low, musical voice of hers. “Would you like to come in?”
“Yes, thanks,” he said, stomping his feet to get the snow off before stepping inside. He was immediately met with a push of warm, soft fur against his hand. “Hey, Max,” he said, indulging the dog with a rub.
“He missed you,” Holly said softly.
“I missed him, too,” Adam said, meaning it.
He then straightened and cleared his throat before reaching down into his pocket and extracting the contents. “You gave me a gift,” he said, “so it seemed only fitting that I give you one in return.”
Holly stared at the small package for several long seconds, but she made no move to take it. It wasn’t fancy, just a crinkled sheet of white paper folded around a box. Looking at it now, Adam realized he had done a pretty shitty job of it. Hell, he wasn’t good at that sort of thing on the best of days. He couldn’t help it if his hands were shaking like crazy when he had wrapped it.
“Go on,” he coaxed. “Take it.”
“You didn’t have to,” she said, but she reached for it, anyway.
He took some small pleasure in the fact that her delicate hands were trembling a little, too. At least he wasn’t the only one.
“Yeah, I did.”
She carefully pulled away the tape, just as he had done, revealing a small, black velvet box. Her attention, however, was focused on the inside of the paper she had just unfolded.
The last chapter of the book she had left him.
He heard her sharp intake of breath as she read the words. He, of course, already knew what they said.
“To be determined” had been crossed off, and beneath it had been written “And they lived happily ever after.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at him.
“Open it,” he commanded.
Holly did. She lifted the hinged lid of the little, black velvet box and gasped at the sight of a diamond engagement ring, flanked by stunning, smaller emeralds and set in a custom white gold setting.
“Marry me, Holly.”
No flowery words, no romantic poetry, just a heartfelt request.
Some might have thought Adam was taking a gamble. After all, he and Holly had only spent a couple weeks together before spending the next several months apart under some very unpleasant circumstances.
He knew better.
There was not a doubt in his mind that this was exactly the way things were meant to be, because he had read her story. In her written word, he had seen her heart. Her pain. Her love. Her forgiveness. He knew the depth of her feelings were only rivaled by his own.
“Yes ...” she whispered through the tears.
Adam released the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, and before she had a chance to change her mind, he slipped the ring onto her finger and crushed his mouth to hers.
She had said yes. He was never going to let her out of his arms again.
OH, HOW SHE HAD MISSED this. Missed him.
It had all become clear to her when she had started writing her story. Their story. She loved him. Adam was the other half of her soul, and without him, she was miserable.
Once she allowed herself to accept that, everything else fell into place.
The last six months had been hell, but they had made her realize what was truly important. And as the details of what Eve had done and the extent of her illness had become known, Holly was ashamed she had not given Adam the benefit of the doubt. She had been so devastated, so ready to believe he had betrayed her, that she hadn’t been able to look past her own heartbreak to see that he, too, had been hurt.
She would never make that mistake again.
Holly tugged off Adam’s coat and blindly managed to hook it on the coat rack. The rest of his clothing did not fare quite as well.
Individual garments, both his and hers, were unceremoniously removed and dropped as Adam used his much larger body to push her farther into the house.
“I missed you,” Adam told her, breaking away from her mouth, breathing every bit as heavily as she was.
“Less talking,” she demanded, pulling him down onto the strategically placed nest of blankets on the floor in front of the fire. She didn’t think he had noticed, consuming her as he was, but she was wrong.
“Expecting someone?” he growled, settling his heavy weight over her.
She was prevented from answering right away as he cupped her possessively between the legs while he used his mouth to create a trail of liquid fire beneath her jaw, down the column of her neck, finally latching hard onto her breast.
She needed him. Needed him so much. More than she had ever needed anyone or anything in her entire life.
“Hoping,” she breathed, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. “Praying. Wishing.”
He grunted his approval, releasing one nipple with a loud pop before roughly taking the other. There was no slow seduction, nor did she want it. She wanted it rough, hard, and fast. She wanted her Five-Minute Man.
She felt him stroke her once, twice, before plunging his finger deep inside her. Her body arched up, offering itself to him if he would only just keep doing that.
Seconds later, she was gasping, already on the precipice, when he replaced his skilled fingers with the blunt head of his turgid shaft.
“Yes!” she half-cried, half-screamed, needing him inside her more than she needed her next breath.
Adam obliged, plunging into her with one powerful thrust.
Her sex clenched around him greedily, starved for that which only he could provide.
“Holly!” he roared out above her. “Forget five minutes, baby. I’m not going to last five seconds ...”<
br />
Epilogue
Nine Months Later
Holly shifted in her chair again, trying to relieve some of the ache that had been plaguing her lower back for the last two hours. She smiled and greeted the seemingly unending stream of people lined up to get her to sign their books. Closing her eyes briefly, she tried to imagine Adam’s strong hands massaging her and felt instantly better.
As of that morning, Five Minute Man had been among the top ten, most requested downloads on the major online retailers. The recent publicity had resulted in a surge of demands for her previously published books, as well. Holly declined nearly all the appearance requests she received on a daily basis now, but this was a special favor to the local bookstore that had been supporting her and showcasing her works all along.
“I loved this,” confided one rosy-cheeked grandmother to Holly, her crystal blue eyes sparkling. Eyes that looked remarkably like her son’s.
“Too bad it’s not real,” sighed a much younger, doe-eyed woman in line behind her.
“Oh, but it is,” the older woman said emphatically before Holly could comment.
“Really?” the brunette asked doubtfully.
“Oh, yes. It was like that for me and my Charlie.” She beamed, then turned to Holly. “And for you, too, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Holly confirmed, smiling back at her. Knowing that her mother-in-law had read their personal, and occasionally explicit, love story probably would have been more awkward if the woman wasn’t such an open-minded, self-professed fan of Holly’s work. The two had often chatted late into the night about possible plots and themes and alpha males, while Adam and his father puttered around the cottage. The fact that Adam’s mother was here now, when Holly’s own mother was too embarrassed to do the same, warmed her heart.
Of course, some of that might have to do with the fact that Holly was already three days past her due date and Adam had enlisted his entire family’s assistance to ensure she was never out of their sight. He was so protective that way, and Holly loved him for it.
“Wow. You are so lucky.”
“Yes,” Holly agreed, rubbing her distended belly as the first real labor pain hit. “Yes, I am.”
PSSST...WANT TO KNOW more about Adam and Holly’s wedding? Check out Liz’s story in All Night Woman, Book 2 of the Covendale Series...
Author’s Note
You know, it’s funny where the seed for a story originates sometimes. In my case, I never know where my next idea will come from. Sometimes it starts as a dream; other times, I hear a song and the lyrics create an alternate reality. In the case of Five Minute Man, the impetus was a phrase on the Urban Dictionary website: ass-tag convention. It was the word of the day on September 21, 2013.
So, how did something as innocuous as the “ass-tag convention” become a story? Well, it’s just one of those things that stuck in my head. First, I wondered what, if any, harm I was bringing to my family by being one of those women who tends to cut the tags off things. I mean, it’s impossible to have an ass-tag convention if there’s no tag, right?
Then I began to wonder who would actively employ the ass-tag convention. Male or female? Young or old? Someone concerned with hygiene, obviously. Someone not overly touchy-feely, who likes to set definitive personal limits.
A character started to form in my mind, a woman, past youthful ambivalence chronologically and on the cusp of middle-age mentally. Adorably prickly, but soft at heart. Pretty and natural, but not beautiful. A woman who, through both nature and nurture, preferred to distance herself from the world, to create and be content with her own little bubble of existence.
As with all my stories, I added in a few snippets from my own life. My love of animals, and my profound belief that almost any dog is worth a dozen humans. Regular GNOs with my BFF to keep me sane and talk about things that no respectable wife or mother should probably talk about over under-550-calorie menus and unsweetened iced teas. A love of reading and writing romantic and erotic fiction that provides an escape, allows me to lose myself in alternate worlds cruelly hinted at by professional taunters like Walt Disney and goddesses like Lora Leigh and Sherrilyn Kenyon.
(I just want to add here that I have met both of these amazing ladies, and I am even more of a fan now as I was when I first started writing.)
Which is where the whole five-minute man thing came in.
Fantasy? Sure. But we all need something to believe in. When we outgrow Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, when we realize the hot guy in the famous boy band is NOT going to spot us back in the hundred and seventeenth row and profess his true love, when we get out on our own and realize that men are not the perfect creatures we’ve always dreamed of, we find ourselves looking for that next thing we can close our eyes and fantasize about.
Like Holly, when I write, I create a world I’d like to live in, with people I’d like to hang out with. When I read my favorite authors, I enter their worlds. Their works are my mind’s vacation from real life, from laundry and dishes and scrubbing bathrooms and worrying over ass-tag conventions and the long-term psychological damage I’m inflicting on my kids without realizing it. Their stories give me a place to go, something to think about, when I’m waiting or driving or doing any of the thousand things wives and mothers are supposed to do.
Hopefully, reading Five Minute Man was a little mini-vacay for you, too.
Thanks for reading Adam and Holly’s story
You didn’t have to pick this book, but you did. Thank you!
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Thanks again, and may all of your ever-afters be happy ones!
Abbie
If you liked this book...
... then check out this excerpt from the next book in the Covendale series, All Night Woman...
“SO, MILES,” LIZ SAID, lowering her eyes even as the lovely, rosy blush stole over her cheeks. “What brings you to Covendale? Do you live around here?”
She was nervous, which suggested that she was feeling this unexpected energy arcing between them as well. That probably shouldn’t have pleased him as much as it did.
“I don’t live anywhere, really. I’ve got a small apartment in New York, but it’s just a place to lay my head occasionally. My job has me travelling too much to make maintaining anything more than that feasible. And as to the why of it, well, Adam told me he was getting married.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, her eyes rising to scan his face. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but obviously he didn’t do a good enough job of it. Suddenly he felt strangely exposed, as if she could see past his carefully controlled mask.
“You think he’s making a mistake.”
He shrugged, but inside, he was impressed by her perceptiveness. “I don’t think anything, except that it came out of nowhere.”
“It was fast,” she agreed carefully. “But it seems like the real thing. And Adam is her five-minute man.”
“Her what?”
The pretty blush deepened. Liz looked down at her plate and dabbed at a crumb with her index finger. “Her five-minute man. That one person capable of pushing all of her buttons and making her...”
Realization dawned, right along with disbelief. Miles couldn’t help himself; he laughed. “That’s what this is all about?”
Her frown deepened. “You don’t believe in true love?”
Great, he
had offended her. But damn, it was funny. “Giving a woman an orgasm in five minutes is hardly a sound foundation for a relationship,” he chuckled. If it was, he would still be married. Or would have at least had dozens of “committed relationships” over the last ten years.
Across the counter, Liz stiffened. Surely a mature, professional woman didn’t buy into all that Hallmark-inspired tripe. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you believe that.”
She said nothing, just dropped her eyes and stared at her plate. Holy shit. Even make-up free and in her PJs she was a beautiful woman. She must have had her share of male attention, enough for her to know better. But given the way she refused to meet his eyes, maybe not.
And that was a damn shame.
“What did you wish for, Liz?” he asked suddenly.
As she swallowed, her pupils dilated and that pretty smoky blue darkened to stormy.
“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” she whispered.
He almost laughed at that. Despite his brain telling him that seducing Liz would be wrong on so many levels, his body was moving ahead anyway. His blood warmed and pooled, turning previous mild interest into rock-hard, un-ignorable lust. Anything besides a firm “no” from her lips wasn’t going to alter the immediate course of events.
“Do you want your wish to come true, Liz?” Without conscious effort, his voice had deepened and softened as he spoke the words.
Her eyes, slightly glassy and dazed, searched his. She licked her lips. “No.”
“LOVED THE STORY LINE and really liked the ages of the main characters!! I have been reading lot of books lately that have the characters in their early to mid-twenties, nothing wrong with that but being over 40ish myself I would like to read about romance within my age group!” ~ Amazon Reviewer K. C.
Five Minute Man: A Contemporary Love Story (Covendale Book 1) Page 16
