by Judy Duarte
“That must have been tough on you,” Adam said.
“It was, but I noticed that when I played the guitar and sang, he’d settle down.”
“Is that what led you to become a music therapist?”
“Yes. It’s a good fit, I guess.” She blew out a soft sigh. “I’m glad I was able to give my dad a respite from his nightmares, but his peace didn’t last too long after I strummed the last chord.”
“Did your dad eventually get professional help?” Adam asked. “TVA has programs that are pretty effective.”
“I begged him to talk to someone, but he told me he was okay. He’d work it out himself. But one day, during my first year in college, the haunting memories got to be too much for him, and he decided life wasn’t worth living anymore. I came home one afternoon to find him dead from an overdose. He left a note, apologizing for being a loser and a burden.”
“I’m sorry,” Adam said.
“Me, too. It seemed so unfair. To him, to me... But I did my best to move on. He left the house to me, so it’s mine now. And so is the mortgage. But that’s okay. The payment is pretty small. And I still have a savings account to help out until I start working full-time.”
Adam reached out and took her hand in his, which both surprised and pleased her. She couldn’t remember when she’d last felt someone’s support, and it was nice to have his. But it was more than friendship that was heating her skin, more than his encouragement rising up inside.
“Everything will work out.” Adam gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his grip insisting his words were true and suggesting that he’d continue to see her through whatever lay ahead.
She hoped she wasn’t reading too much into his kindness, but when she turned to him and caught him gazing at her with an intensity that warmed her from the inside out, she somehow knew his claim was true. It would work out—the mortgage, a full-time job, the future.
As he leaned in for a kiss, her lips parted. Their mouths met with conviction, with purpose. And she lost herself in his arms. That might have frightened her before, when she’d thought that Adam was a player. But she’d fallen in love with the man she’d once told herself was the last guy in the world she ought to date.
And boy, was she glad she’d been wrong.
* * *
Adam kissed Julie softly at first, respectfully. But the moment her lips parted, his tongue swept into her mouth, and he was toast.
Heat shot through his veins, lighting a blaze in him as if she’d tossed lighter fluid on the dying embers in the campfire.
A kiss like this wasn’t meant to be shared while sitting awkwardly in foldable outdoor chairs, but it didn’t seem to matter if they tipped over and landed in the dirt. All he knew was that he couldn’t seem to hold Julie close enough or kiss her deep enough.
She tasted like roasted marshmallows and melted chocolate, a lingering remnant of the sweet, sticky dessert they’d shared. He’d thought he’d had his fill of the gooey things, but right now, he hungered for s’more. S’more of this. And definitely s’more of her.
He stroked the slope of her back, but his hands wadded up in the baggy sweatshirt material, hampering his exploration. He was tempted to reach under the fabric and seek her skin. If he did, would she object?
Her hands were doing a little exploration of their own, so she’d probably welcome it.
The dog whimpered, drawing him back to reality. He hoped the kids were good sleepers. If they woke up now, the timing would suck. He’d better slow things down.
But tell that to his libido. Dammit. He couldn’t seem to keep his lips or his hands to himself.
The dog’s whimper became a soft whine. Was it jealous of the attention he was giving Julie?
Maybe Biscuit was bothered by the attention she was giving to him, because she was kissing him back as if they were seasoned lovers who knew all the right sexual buttons to push.
The dog whined once more, and Julie ended the kiss before Adam had a chance to.
“Oops.” She straightened in her seat and looked at the doe-eyed critter who sat at their feet, its tail swishing in the dirt. “I guess Biscuit thinks we’re ignoring her.”
Maybe so, but Julie had Adam’s full attention right now, and he didn’t have any left to share with the dog.
Where did the woman learn to kiss like that?
She turned back and gazed at him, her cheeks flushed, her lips plump from his recent assault, and smiled shyly. “Biscuit has grown pretty attached to you.”
Maybe. But Adam didn’t get attached to animals.
Or to women.
At least, he never had before. But the raging firestorm Julie had set off in him hadn’t shown any sign of chilling in the night air. The physical arousal he could deal with. But the emotional stuff?
A moment of panic kicked in, but he did his best to tamp it down.
“You know,” she said, flashing him a pretty smile, “I’m going to like being married to you.”
“Me, too. At least, as long as it lasts.”
She stiffened, as if he’d said the wrong thing.
But had he? He’d already become the proud owner of a fur baby. Was he up for anything long term, especially a real marriage?
“I...uh...” Oh, man. He’d never been speechless at times like this. He couldn’t afford to be. He’d always made it a point to make sure there were no misunderstandings with women. That’s why he’d suggested an annulment after Julie had custody of the kids.
Had she forgotten?
She bit down on her lip. Then she glanced first at one tent, then at the other. “I don’t drink alcohol very often. And that wine really hit me hard.” She gave a silly little shrug and laughed it off. “I’d better turn in for the night. The Hoffmans expect us to watch over Eddie and Cassie. They might be out for the count, but I shouldn’t be.”
“You’re right.” Adam raked a hand through his hair, as if a movement that simple might put things to right.
Julie stood and stretched. Then she yawned. Whether it was real or fake, he couldn’t tell. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Oh, yes, I do. I need to turn in before my legs give out on me.” She nodded toward the tent where Cassie slept. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night.” Adam watched as she opened the canvas door flap and crawled inside, but she didn’t turn on the lantern. Had she collapsed in a drunken heap?
It didn’t seem likely.
Maybe he ought to check on her, but if he did, she might want to talk things out. And there was no way he’d do that when his thoughts were so tangled that they’d probably trip him up before he took a single step.
Biscuit placed her chin on his knee, as if she sensed his distress and wanted to offer her support. He caressed her head while he studied Julie’s tent.
He should try to come up with something to explain his awkward reaction, but the only one he had was that his feelings for her scared the crap out of him. And the thought of losing his independence damn near paralyzed him. So he remained right where he was, seated by a fire that had nearly died out, watching the smoke drift away.
And wondering what in the hell he was going to do about Julie.
Chapter Ten
By the time Julie escaped to the privacy of her tent, her cheeks burned with embarrassment, her chest ached with disappointment and her eyes stung with unshed tears. The light from the community bathroom, which was located several campsites away, provided a faint yellow glow through the open flap of the netted tent window, but hardly enough to see.
She would have turned on the battery-operated lantern, but she wasn’t about to provide Adam with a show, even if it was only a silhouette. Not that it mattered if he watched her shadowed image get ready for bed. She just didn’t want him to see her wipe away her tears. So, taking car
e not to wake Cassie, she fumbled in the semidarkness to slip off her shoes, remove her jeans and put on the flannel pajama bottoms she’d had in her backpack.
By the time she climbed inside her sleeping bag, tears trickled down her cheeks, and the ache in her chest was as strong as ever. She wanted to blame Adam for her disappointment, but it was her own fault for ignoring her instincts and pinning her heart on the mythical idea that something special had happened between them.
She let out a soft sigh, the only sound she dared to make, and lay in the dark for the longest time. She tried her darnedest to think about anything other than Adam and that last kiss, but in spite of conjuring up a happy childhood memory, she kept going back to the blasted kiss.
As far as she was concerned, each one she’d shared with him had been amazing, earth-shattering and even more arousing than the last. And while she’d known this wasn’t the time or place for making love, she’d hoped it would happen eventually—and sooner rather than later.
She’d actually thought that their marriage would eventually become real. In her naïveté, she’d thought that things between them had been moving along nicely, like two singers harmonizing a cappella. But she’d been wrong. The minute he’d reminded her that their relationship was only temporary, he’d convinced her of that.
At least, as long as it lasts.
He hadn’t said more than that, but he hadn’t needed to. He’d looked at her as if she’d jabbed him with a straightened coat hanger, a flaming marshmallow at the tip.
He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea and think he was interested in something more than a sexual fling. He was afraid she’d expect their relationship to be meaningful and lasting, something that usually called for a church chapel, white lace and wedding vows.
Sheesh. That was the last thing she wanted, especially now that he’d shown his hand.
She was so done with sexy bachelors. And the sad thing was, she’d seen right through him the first time she met him. She’d known he was a flirt and a player. But then he’d shown her another side of himself, and against her better judgment, she’d lowered her guard.
And now look at her, crying silent tears in a dumb old tent. She’d rather be anywhere than here.
In fact, if Eddie and Cassie weren’t here, she’d...
What? Hike to the county road in the middle of the night and walk home in a huff?
She might be inexperienced when it came to dealing with guys like Adam, but she wasn’t stupid enough to wander off in the dark. She’d have to stick it out tonight. And she’d make it through the morning, too, putting on a happy face for the kids—and for Adam—until he dropped them off at her house. Because she’d be darned if she’d let him think that he or that kiss meant a blasted thing to her.
* * *
Adam had no idea how long he’d sat at the campfire last night, but he’d remained in his seat well after the flames burned out. When he’d finally turned in, sleep evaded him for what seemed like forever.
Even in the morning, while they all ate cereal and fruit for breakfast, he did his best to pretend nothing had happened between him and Julie. But that wasn’t hard to do. She seemed to be doing the same thing.
Maybe he’d been wrong. She might have actually been tired and hadn’t been offended by his knee-jerk response. He sure hoped so, because he didn’t want to deal with any apologies or explanations or questions about where they’d go from here.
Because he damn sure wouldn’t know what to tell her about the status or the future of their paper marriage. He’d always believed in temporary, rather than lasting. And now she had him questioning his past philosophy.
Once he pulled up in front of her house, she was out of the Bronco before he could shut off the ignition and opening the passenger door. “Come on, kids. Let’s take a shower and get ready to go to the ranch.”
While the kids piled out of the car, Adam went to the back, opened the rear hatch and withdrew the two backpacks and Julie’s tote.
When she took it from him, she cast him a smile. “Camping was fun. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ll go home and unload the car and come back for you after lunch.”
“We’ll be ready.” Then she headed toward the house.
He ought to be glad she’d made it so easy to slip away without dealing with any questions or suggestions that would have pressured him, but she’d just given him the brush-off. And that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
After Adam drove Biscuit home and let them both into the house, he went straight to the refrigerator and removed a cold bottle of water. As he took a long, refreshing drink, he noticed the blinking red light on Stan’s answering machine, indicating a new message.
Lisa had probably heard the message he’d left her and was calling him back. But he wasn’t in a hurry to hear what she had to say. So he took another chug of water, then fed Biscuit before crossing the room and pushing the play button.
He had no idea what to tell her. Maybe that something had come up. Or rather, someone had come up, and he was no longer free to date her. After listening to her message, he’d think of something to say when he returned her call.
But Lisa hadn’t called. At least, she hadn’t left a message.
The caller had been a telemarketer offering Stan an all-expenses-paid weekend in Las Vegas if he listened to a short time-share sales pitch.
No thanks. Delete.
He’d just turned away from the answering machine, when his cell phone rang. He quickly grabbed it and answered the call. “Hey, Adam! What’s up?”
Whenever he didn’t recognize a woman’s voice, his typical response was to play along at chitchat until a clue to her identity popped up, but he wasn’t in the mood for any long, drawn-out games today.
“Who is this?” he asked.
“It’s me, Tanya! What are you doing? Are you up for a night on the town? Or maybe just a quiet evening at my house?”
Even though he kept plenty of stock excuses on hand for invitations like this, he opted to cut to the chase with honesty, just as he would do with Lisa. “Thanks for the offer, Tanya, but I’m going to pass. I’m dating someone now.”
“Just one somebody? That sounds serious.”
He wasn’t sure what was going on with him and Julie, but she was the only woman he was interested in dating. “We’ll see how things pan out.”
“All right,” Tanya said. “But if things don’t work out, give me a call.”
“Yeah, sure.” Yet for some reason, he didn’t feel like playing the field anymore. And he hoped that things with Julie actually would pan out.
After disconnecting the line, he turned to see Biscuit sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, watching him with those big brown eyes. “What’s the matter, girl? Were you waiting to see if I’d say or do something stupid?”
Her tail swept across the floor.
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll admit it. Julie is the only woman I’m interested in seeing right now. How about that? Who would have guessed that I’d change my dating MO?”
Biscuit’s tail swished faster across the floor. You’d think that they had a genuine inter-species conversation going on, one they both understood.
“I guess you could say that Julie worked a little game-changer magic on me. And apparently, so did the kids.”
As Adam reached for his bottle of water and took another swig, Biscuit let out a little woof, which was more of a half bark.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
Biscuit cocked her head to the side.
“Did I forget someone?” Adam shook his head and grinned. “Okay. You’ve been working on me, too.”
Damn. What was happening to him? He was not only talking to a dog, he almost expected her to answer. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be referring
to Biscuit as a fur baby before he knew it.
Okay, so that was what Biscuit had already become. The kids had really grown on him, too. And in spite of his gut reaction to Julie’s comment about their fake marriage last night, he wasn’t so sure he liked using words like “paper” or “temporary.”
After they took the kids to the Double G to go riding this afternoon and then dropped them off at Kidville, he would take Julie home, where he would apologize for dragging his feet when it came to admitting how he really felt about her.
The pretty music therapist had been strumming away on his heart from the first time he laid eyes on her, and it was time he told her.
Instead of pretending that they were married and living together, he’d ask how she felt about him packing up more of his things and actually moving in with her. If she was willing, he was ready to make their marriage real.
Chapter Eleven
Adam gripped the steering wheel as he drove back to Julie’s house. He could have taken Biscuit with him. In fact, the dog whined when he left, but he couldn’t very well look after the kids while they rode horses and worry about the dog, too.
He’d packed a suitcase and a couple of boxes and placed them in the back of the Bronco—just in case Julie was willing to let him move in. Surprisingly, the more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea. He glanced at the dash, turned on the radio and adjusted the dial to something upbeat. Then he continued to Julie’s house.
When he was only two miles from home, his cell phone rang. His Bronco didn’t have Bluetooth capabilities, so he turned on the speaker and answered.
“Adam, it’s Martin Chiang.”
His friend who worked at the DNA lab. “What’s up, Martin?”
“Like you suspected, those kids are definitely siblings—same parents. But we also got a hit on the DNA you supplied. A Jane Doe who was found at the bottom of a canyon about twenty miles from Wexler.”
“Murdered?”
“Inconclusive. But now that we have a name—Wanda Cramer—we can investigate further.”
