Five Minute Man: A Contemporary Love Story Page 10

  Adam’s hands rested just above her hips, holding her in place. He flexed his hands, squeezing lightly until her eyes met his. “Yes. But I’m not.”

  He lifted her as if she weighed nothing. She sighed in both relief and pleasure as he guided her back down onto him, filling more than just that part of her. Words were one thing, but this is what she really needed. There was no mistaking the reassurance this connection brought with it. With Adam, it wasn’t just sex. If it ever began to feel like it was, that’s when she would really start to worry.

  For now, she was more than content to push the sense of disquiet far to the back of her mind and trust her heart. And Adam.

  Chapter 21

  Holly heard the knock at the door. Glancing away from her screen, she looked up at the burnished brass clock on the wall and frowned. It was early afternoon. The only two people for whom she would be willing to interrupt her writing groove – Liz and Adam – would be at work for another couple of hours. The postman had already dropped off the mail for the day, and she wasn’t expecting any packages.

  “Ignore it,” she said to Max, who swiveled his gaze between her and the front of the house. Unlike other dogs, he didn’t bark at the door if Holly was around. He always looked to her first.

  After a few seconds of silence, she turned her attention back to her computer and re-read the last couple of sentences to continue where she’d left off, right in the middle of a really intense scene when her lead female character saw her love interest shift into a beast for the first time. She’d been on such a roll, she hadn’t even taken a break to pee for the last three hours.

  Her fingers had barely touched the keys when the irritating knock came again.

  “Go away,” Holly mumbled under her breath. What was it with people? If they knocked and no one answered, it meant that either a) no one was home, or b) no one wanted to open the damn door.

  Five minutes passed, and still, the incessant knock continued every minute or so. Whoever it was, they were persistent. And had just taken the express route right to the very top of Holly’s shit list.

  Her concentration shattered, Holly got up and went to the door, ready to give whoever it was a much needed lesson in socially acceptable behavior.

  Except when Holly opened the door, the words evaporated on her lips. Standing on her front porch was Swedish Barbie, dressed in an expensive looking, ass-hugging skirt and matching jacket. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a perfectly smooth bun with nary a hair out of place; her makeup was so well done her Nordic features appeared airbrushed.

  “Holly McTierney?” Barbie asked doubtfully, her gaze raking down and back up in a blatant perusal. Devoid of makeup, wearing one of Adam’s T-shirts and her super comfy pajama pants, Holly knew she didn’t look presentable enough to receive visitors. Especially not ones who looked like they just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Which was one of the many reasons why she hadn’t wanted to open the door in the first place.

  “Yes.”

  Holly kept her hand on the door, allowing it to open only wide enough for her and Max to check out the one who had so rudely interrupted their afternoon. That didn’t stop Swedish Barbie from looking nosily over Holly’s shoulder into the house – an easy thing to do since she was a good nine or ten inches taller than Holly. “May I come in?”

  Holly leaned against the door. “I’m a little busy right now. What do you want?”

  Barbie managed what was no doubt intended to be a friendly smile, but her eyes were anything but. Holly wondered if she knew about her and Adam. She’d meant to ask Adam about her – given the exchange she’d inadvertently witnessed at the Y – but it hadn’t come up. They had been too busy doing other, much more pleasurable things, and the few times she had thought about it, she hadn’t wanted to ruin the mood.

  “My name is Eve Sanderson. I’m with the Covendale Valley Historical Society.”

  Holly blinked but said nothing. She was vaguely familiar with the Society. Shortly after she’d purchased the property, they’d started sending her letters asking for permission to inspect the property and include it as part of their colonial history tours. The thought of strangers poking around her house and busloads of school children traipsing over her lawn had her dismissing the idea pretty quickly.

  “Despite repeated attempts to contact you, you have not responded,” Eve continued. “You did receive several letters from us, did you not?”

  “I did. And I did respond. Not interested.” She’d only responded to the first letter. Each subsequent one went right into the paper shredder the moment she had ensured all staples had been safely removed.

  Eve forced another small smile. “Then you are aware of the rich history of this particular parcel, and the Society’s desire to have it registered as an historical landmark.”

  “I am. And the answer is still no.” Holly took a step back and began to close the door. Eve put her hand out to stop it.

  “Perhaps you do not understand the significance of -,” Eve began, her voice dripping with barely concealed condescension. “No, I think it is you who does not understand,” Holly said firmly. Her searing gaze went to Eve’s hand. “I will say this one more time for you, very slowly so you can keep up. I. Am Not. Interested.”

  Expression thunderous, Eve’s eyes narrowed. For a few moments, Holly thought Eve-Barbie might actually attack. Holly kind of hoped she would. While not normally a violent person, there was something immensely appealing about taking Miss High-And-Mighty down a peg or two. It wouldn’t even have to be anything big, really, just enough to let Eve-Barbie know she wasn’t about to be pushed around by some Swedish supermodel wannabe.

  But her unwelcome visitor managed to smooth her features back into a semi-professional mask and smiled coldly. “You’re new here, so let me give you a piece of helpful advice. The Covendale Valley Historical Society has the backing of some very powerful members of this community who want to ensure that our local history is preserved for future generations. If I were you, I would think twice about engaging in a battle you can’t win.” Eve’s eyes practically glowed. “We care for and protect what is ours.”

  A chill ran up and down the length of Holly’s spine as every one of her female senses flared to life. With a scary certainty, she knew they were no longer simply talking about the cottage. Visions of Eve’s hand running along Adam’s bicep with serious familiarity clouded her vision for a moment, but she pushed them back. Anything he had with Eve must be over, right? Because Adam had been spending his evenings and weekends with her, not Eve.

  Eve was probably just reluctant to let him go. Holly could understand that. She wouldn’t let Adam go easily, either.

  “Let me make this perfectly clear, so there is no doubt. I am the legal owner of this house and the land surrounding it. I have no intention of applying for any historical recognition whatsoever, nor will I. This is private property. And I care for and protect what is mine.”

  ***

  “Are you getting a drink tonight?” Holly asked as the server appeared to take their drink orders. “Because I am definitely getting a drink tonight.”

  “Unsweetened red wine for me,” Liz told the young man without opening the beverage menu. “Whatever you have is fine.”

  The server turned to Holly. “And you, ma’am?”

  Holly pointed to the brightly colored photo image splashed across the cover of the laminated stand-up card. “Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey.”

  The waiter didn’t bother looking up from his little pad. He was young, like Brandon, but not nearly as friendly. He looked extremely bored. “Want that with the blackberry lemonade and ginger ale?”

  “Whatever. Just make sure it’s a double shot.”

  He nodded and left, leaving Liz staring worriedly across the table. “A double? What’s up?”

  Holly grimaced. “Remember I told you about that woman I saw with Adam at the Y that night? Well, she showed up on my doorstep today.”

  “Eve came to yo
ur house?”

  Holly stared at her friend in disbelief. She had never told Liz the woman’s name, because she hadn’t known it herself until a few hours ago. “Eve? You mean you know her?”

  Liz grimaced. “Yeah, I know her alright. She is bad news, Holly.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything before? Like when I told you what happened? That could have been useful information, Liz.”

  “Because I didn’t know then that the woman you saw was Eve, Holly. I didn’t find out until after Adam told me.”

  Holly shook her head. This vague fog of confusion was supposed to come after the drink, not before. “Wait. You talked to Adam? When?”

  Guilt suffused Liz’s features. “Last Wednesday. He kind of cornered me at the Y to find out why you weren’t talking to him.”

  “And you told him?” Holly hissed.

  “Well, duh. You were miserable, Holly. I told him why you were upset, the light bulb blinked on, and he explained what really happened. She was going after him, Holly, not the other way around.”

  “And you just believed him?” As skeptical as Holly was, Liz was even more so when it came to the kind of bullshit men spewed to save their own asses. More than one dinner conversation had centered around Liz’s personal dating experiences. Some of those tales even found their way into Holly’s storylines occasionally, because truth was so often stranger than fiction.

  “I’ll admit, I was a little doubtful at first. But as soon as I realized that Eve was the other woman, I knew he was telling the truth. You should have seen him, Holly. He was every bit as miserable as you were. I had to do something.”

  The discussion was suspended as the server reappeared with their drinks and a basket of warm, crusty bread. Holly wasted no time in bringing the straw to her lips, relishing the rush of sweet, smooth alcohol across her tongue. Liz placed her meal order first, then Holly doubled it. In a shocking move, Liz tore off a piece of bread and slathered it with the whipped butter.

  “Liz,” Holly said slowly, watching in morbid fascination as Liz savored the forbidden carbs. That, more than anything, told her that Liz was holding back crucial information. “What exactly did you do?”

  “Nothing, really,” Liz said, avoiding Holly’s eyes. The very distinct red tint infusing her cheeks suggested otherwise.

  “Liz...” Holly warned.

  “Oh, alright. I made him buy me a coffee and I told him that if he really wanted to rock your world he needed to be your Five Minute Man. He, of course, had no idea what that meant, so I had to explain it to him. There. Are you happy now?”

  Holly gaped at Liz across the table. At her best and only friend. She didn’t say anything. She just pulled her drink closer and continued to draw from the straw, glad she’d asked for a double. Liz kept shooting furtive glances at her, alternately mangling the remaining bread by pulling off bite-sized pieces and sipping her wine.

  By the time their meal arrived, they still hadn’t spoken. It was Liz who finally broke the silence. “Are you angry with me?”

  Holly exhaled heavily, pushing the now-empty glass off to the side. Her head was buzzing pleasantly and she was feeling a bit more relaxed. “No, I’m not angry with you. Because of you, I had a three night, three day marathon of incredibly hot and wild monkey sex.”

  Liz’s eyes widened. Then Holly grinned and they both burst into gales of laughter, drawing stares from some of the surrounding tables. “So I did a good thing?”

  “You did a very good thing,” Holly agreed. “Adam is... well, he is the personification of my perfect man.” She shook her head. “In fact, he is too good to be true. I knew there had to be a catch. And she showed up on my front porch today.”

  “Eve is something else. But you can’t hold that against Adam. It’s not his fault she’s a psycho hose beast and can’t take no for an answer.”

  “Psycho hose beast?” Holly repeated incredulously.

  Liz waved her hand dismissively. “I saw it in this really bad 80’s film. Never thought I’d actually use it, but in this case, it fits.”

  “Tell me.”

  Liz scowled. “Let’s just say that I have a very good reason to hate Eve Sanderson and leave it at that.”

  Holly wanted to ask more, but the look of resolve on Liz’s face told her she wouldn’t get much more out of her on the subject. Thankfully, their meals arrived and gave them something else to focus on.

  Chapter 22

  Adam cursed as the stubborn oil valve gave way and his forearm was covered in the dark, thick liquid. Changing the oil on his truck was child’s play, something he’d done dozens of times, but it was hard to concentrate when he was so damn distracted. It was Tuesday night, and Holly was out with her friend. Would Liz tell Holly about running into him at the Y? About their shocking and revelatory discussion at the coffee shop?

  Yeah, she probably would. Liz made no secret of the fact that Holly was more like a sister to her than a friend, and sisters definitely shared that kind of shit. At least his sisters did. Growing up, he’d overheard a lot more girl talk than he’d wanted to. Frank and explicit discussions from makeup to boys and everything in between.

  How would Holly react? Would she be upset with Liz for revealing all of that extremely personal (and useful!) information, or would she understand that Liz had only her best interests at heart? Knowing Holly, it was probably the latter. She might be somewhat of a loner, but she was fiercely loyal to those few she’d chosen to allow into her inner circle. A circle that now (hopefully) included him.

  Either way, he kind of hoped they did talk about it, get it out in the open. He would have done so himself, but like most guys, he wasn’t good at that kind of sharing shit. He preferred to speak more through actions than words. Undoubtedly, Liz would have a better idea of how to say things to make Holly understand the truth of it. Besides, with his luck, someone might have seen him and Liz together that night and that might somehow make it back to Holly. He didn’t want any more misunderstandings to come between them.

  Which brought up the other primary source of his distraction: Eve. He couldn’t get that last phone call out of his head. It had been on his mind all day, wondering exactly what she was up to. He’d thought he’d done a fairly good job of shifting Eve’s focus away from Holly, but one never knew with Eve. She might give the outward impression of not being very smart, but the woman could be quite cunning when she put her mind to it.

  The fact that Eve was using the Historical Society was proof of that. Even if she didn’t believe Holly was a rival for his attention, Eve knew that Adam had been more than a little interested in obtaining the gamekeeper’s cottage at one point. In yet another stunningly stupid move – he really seemed to be racking those up lately – he’d mentioned it during their one and only dinner together. Of course, he’d had no idea of what she was capable of then. She’d been asking him about his job, and he’d mentioned that he had a special affinity for doing historical reno’s.

  She’d seemed so interested, said how she’d always been fascinated by local history, that her wealthy, powerful father was on the board of the Covendale Valley Historical Society. So he’d told her about the cottage, about its history, how he’d been so disappointed that he’d been outbid.

  How the hell was he supposed to know that bit of seemingly innocuous information would come back to bite him on the ass?

  Eve obviously thought that the cottage was a way to worm her way back into his life. What she didn’t seem to understand is that nothing she said or did would make that happen. One night had been more than enough, and he was still paying for it.

  The question was, what should he do about it? Should he attempt to talk to Eve? That particular route had never been successful in the past; Eve only heard what she wanted to hear. But he felt like he should be doing something. Left unchecked, this situation had potential disaster written all over it.

  His thoughts went back to Holly, which seemed to happen every few minutes or so. Damn, but he had it bad. She was ev
erything he’d ever dreamed of in a woman. Smart, sassy, funny, talented, and she brought him close to seeing God every time they had sex. She was capable and fiercely independent, except when it came to him. She willingly let him dominate her, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Christ. The way she melted against him, looked up at him with those big green eyes filled with so much hope and trust and - dare he think it? – love.

  It seemed far too soon to even contemplate such a possibility, but there it was. Whether it really was or not remained to be seen, but the potential was there, stronger than it had been in any other relationship he’d ever been in.

  It was exactly for that reason that he wanted to keep Eve as far away from her as possible. Holly should not have to suffer because he’d made some bad choices long before they’d ever even met. And if he was being really honest with himself, he wanted to be the man she thought he was when she looked at him like that. The one who would do anything to protect her and keep her safe from likes of psychologically unbalanced women like Eve Sanderson.

  ***

  By Thursday, Adam was more than ready to spend the rest of the night with Holly. His arms (and various other parts of his anatomy) literally ached, and not because he had spent the last two days redoing the stonework around a floor-to-ceiling fireplace dating back nearly two hundred years. No, this pain was born solely of the agonizing want and need to drown in the magical touch of one smart-mouthed little brunette. He gripped the phone in his hand, the words more disappointing than he could have imagined.

  “I’m sorry, Adam,” Holly said, sounding as weary as he’d ever heard her. “I’m going to have to cancel our dinner tonight.” She explained how she’d come out of the grocery store to find not one, but two flat tires. “I got a tow, but they don’t have the right sized tires in stock. They are checking some of their other locations right now, but I’m going to be stuck here for a while yet.”