Broken (19 page)

I had come here with a broken heart that was filled with so much pain, and he had replaced that pain with laughter and passion and so many wonderful memories that I would treasure forever. The only thing that didn't make sense was how quickly his emotions had turned. We had been blissfully happy, or so it had seemed, only a few days ago. Why all of a sudden had he stopped caring when he had become ill? I wished I could ask him, but how did you phrase the question ‘
Why don't you care 'bout me anymore?
' without sounding totally pathetic?

The sky was beginning to darken and I realized I'd been sitting on that rock for at least an hour. With one final deep inhalation of salty sea air, I slowly started back toward the house for the last time.

Rounding the curve of the shore, I noticed a figure sitting on my back deck, and my heart leapt into my throat. It was Adam, jiggling his legs as he hugged his body to keep warm. Resisting the urge to run along the sand, arms outstretched like in some old corny movie, I consciously maintained my pace and casually approached.

I needed something clever to say, something witty with a hint of sarcasm, but my mind was blank. Why did the English language always fail me when I needed it? All I wanted to do was turn back time to before Adam was sick, and I was blissfully unaware of how important Annabel still was in his life. To rush to him, leap into his arms, and smother his face with kisses.

“No words needed for that,” I mumbled under my breath.

Setting my shoulders back and proud, I made the ascent up the slope of sand to the house, and to Adam.

“Whatcha doin' here?”
Oh, very witty, Evie.

He looked frail and drawn as he stood, and it hit home that he must have been sicker than I'd realized.

“You've packed up.” His eyes swept around the deck that had been cleared of furniture for the remainder of the winter. “I thought you might have already gone. I thought…I'd lost you. I'm so sorry, Evie. Please don't go,” he croaked, his cheeks wet from tears.

My shoulders slumped as my vision blurred. “I thought I'd already lost you.” I sniffled, trying but failing to hold it together. “Did you get my note? I didn't know how else to say goodbye.”

He shook his head. “No. What note?”

My hand went to my mouth. “Where's Max?”

Adam nodded in the direction of the water's edge where Max was merrily chasing seagulls.

“So you're not here ‘cause of my note?”

His hands cupped my tear-streaked face. “I'm here because no matter how badly this may end, I can't stay away.” His thumbs traced the tracks of my tears. “Being with you, it warms me. It gives me those excited butterflies. I don't want to go to sleep at night because to close my eyes would mean I would have to stop gazing down at this beautiful face.”

He wrapped his arms around me, and I leaned into the embrace and let the tears fall silently. “I don't want Charles,” I blubbered.

“I don't want you to be with Charles.” He squeezed me tighter and I gladly hugged him back. “I know it's selfish of me because I can't give you what you want, not yet. I don't know what's going to happen, but I can't stay away from you. Fuck, I've tried, but I want you, Evie. You're all I want, all I can think about.”

“What about Annabel?”

“She knows my history, but she's my past. You have no idea how much I want you to be my future. I have to go back to England after I leave here and I don't know how long I'll be there, and I know I have no right to ask, but will you wait for me?”

My heart raced as the reality of what Adam was asking sunk in. “Do you promise to come back to me?”

His hands cupped my face once again as he looked earnestly into my eyes. “I will do everything in my power to come back. But for now, this is all I have to offer you—these few weeks in the Hamptons.” His sorrowful eyes searched my face. “I know it's not enough. You deserve so much more, Evie. You deserve a happily-ever-after that would rival one in your stories.”

“Is that why you pushed me away? ‘Cause you thought I deserved more?”

He nodded. “I thought it would be easier now than in a couple of weeks.” He gave me a sad smile. “I know the more time I spend with you, the more I want to spend with you. But it's too late for me—you're in here.” He patted his chest.

My heart felt as though it would burst. The elation that was coursing through me was overwhelming and a little scary. Yes, we had reconciled for now, but what would happen after we left here? Adam was right; it would be just as difficult, if not more so, in two weeks' time.

But I was determined to be positive. “We still have a little while together. Let's not waste it.”

“I want this time to be memorable, something I can get lost in when I'm…” A deep frown knitted his brow. “When I'm back in England.”

He was afraid, but afraid of what I had no idea. I knew one thing for certain—I wanted to make the most of every second we had left here. There were so many more memories we could make together, and I didn't want to look back on my time in the little beach house with regret.

“So, just to get this straight, you're not gonna do this to me again, are you?”

His lips pressed softly to mine. “No, Buttercup, consider me well and truly hooked.”

I led Adam back inside. He looked around at the immaculately tidy room, then at the suitcases by the door.

“I only just caught you, didn't I?” Sitting heavily on the sofa, he ran his hands down his drawn, pale face. “I can't believe I almost let you go.”

Adam was still not completely well, but this time when I hesitantly fussed over him, he let me. Smiling sweetly at me as I led him into the bedroom, he held up his arms like a child as I pulled his sweater over his head, then stood stock-still as his jeans dropped to the floor.

“Okay, into bed,” I ordered in my best “I mean business” tone.

“You're the boss.” He slid between the sheets, then grabbed my hand and gave it a tug, pulling me on top of him.

Giggling, I hugged him tight. I knew there were unanswered questions, too many to count, in fact. Like why he had called Annabel when he had the flu, and why she'd felt the need to race him off to the hospital. I would really have liked to ask why he kept pulling away from me every time I felt we were taking a step forward. But the biggest question for me was why he had to go back to England, and why it seemed to be something he dreaded doing.

Pushing all those questions from my mind for the time being, I slid off his body and cuddled beside him, snuggling his neck. “No sex till you've got your strength back. I don't wanna give you a heart attack with my magnificent sexual prowess.”

I expected him to laugh, but instead he pulled me tighter, rubbing his whiskers on my head so my hair caught in them.

“That is one way I wouldn't mind dying,” he whispered softly. “If the last thing I ever did in this lifetime was make love to you, I would die a happy man.”

Oh God.
I quickly raised my head to look into Adam's teary eyes.

“Are you dying?” It came out more abruptly than I had meant, but it left my mouth before I had the chance to reword it in my head.

He smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. “Not today, Buttercup. Today, I am going to be a pain-in-the-arse patient and lie here while you run around looking after me.”

Nodding, I tried to tell my eyes to stop welling with tears.

“Hey, stop frowning, baby. I'm fine. I had man-flu remember? All men think they're dying when they get a runny nose.” He pulled my head down to his and planted a lingering kiss on my lips. “I'm on the mend, so stop worrying, okay?”

“Okay.” I gave him a peck on the lips before sitting up. “I'll give you one day to be a pain in the ass; then I expect you back up and paintin'.” I cast my eyes over to the vacant space where the easel had been set up. We would need to get it back over here as quickly as possible so Adam would have time to finish my portrait. “You have a beautiful picture to complete.”

I fussed over Adam as much as I could, so grateful that I had decided to go for that walk and lost track of time while sitting on the rock. If I'd left when I had planned to, which was right after tying the note to Max's collar, Adam would have come over and I would have already been gone.

That thought kept swirling around in my head all afternoon, as I quietly unpacked my bags and went about making dinner. An hour earlier and I would have lost him forever. Was it fate that I hadn't left? Being so engrossed in my thoughts had given him time to come to the realization that he wanted to be with me, no matter the heartache we may both endure farther down the track. So many things had to align for us to be here now, together. It gave me chills.

Resting my elbows on the kitchen counter, I sighed deeply. He hadn't read the note, so he didn't race over to stop me. He came here because he couldn't stay away. He wanted me. Grinning, my chest heaved with relief. “Maybe we are meant to be,” I pondered aloud.

“What are we meant to be?” Adam had quietly come up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

Turning in his arms to face him, I laced my hands around his waist. “Well, I don't know what I'm meant to be, but you're meant to be in bed.”

“I'm feeling much better. Must be your wonderful bedside manner.” He peered over my shoulder at the various pots boiling away on the cooktop. “Can I help with anything?”

“Yes, you can. You can start readin' my manuscript. Or should I say, my
completed
manuscript.”

He beamed with delight. “You finished? Oh, baby…” Lifting my feet from the floor, he swung me around. “I'm so proud of you.”

He was proud of me—I could see it written all over his face. It was the most heartwarming, soul-lifting feeling to have someone absolutely thrilled for you because of your personal achievement. There was nothing in it for him, and yet he was so excited.

I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. “Don't get too carried away until you've read it. It could be utter crap.”

He went to sit at the end of the dining table, which had become my makeshift desk, but I ushered him back to bed, taking the laptop with us. After rearranging and fluffing the pillows, I found the file and opened it, then placed the computer on his lap.

“Do you want me to make notes in the file if I find anything? Or just read through and comment at the end?”

“I want you to put your English teacher's hat on and go crazy with the red pen, Mr. Walker.”

His smile faded as he pulled a serious, teacherish face. “Very well. You will be graded on the curve, Ms. Rivers.”

I didn't see Adam for the remainder of the late afternoon, until dinner was ready. When I went in to let him know he could take a break, he held his finger up, telling me to give him a minute. Leaning in from the side to see where he was up to, I was surprised that he was nearly halfway through the story. When he reached a scene break, he stopped, saved the file, and placed the laptop on the bed beside him.

“This story is amazing, Evie.” He beamed. “I love it, even if I'm not the target market.”

“Could that be ‘cause Mac reminds you of you?” I laughed.

“Maybe. He is a hot British guy with a huge cock, so I guess there are some similarities.”

We ate dinner propped up in bed with trays across our laps. The entire conversation revolved around my story, with Adam providing insight into avenues I could take to enhance the story line. In my mind, he was a genius, and I kicked myself for not thinking of these things on my own.

“Don't be down on yourself,” he said, noticing my frown after he'd commented on things that should have been obvious to me. “Sometimes it just takes a fresh set of eyes.”

I nodded unconvincingly.

“Seriously. You know the story in your head and you've explained it really well. I can picture everything like a movie playing out. I'm just making suggestions. It's up to you if you want to change anything or leave it the way it is…which is as good as any novel I've ever read.”

So I still had some work to do, which was fine. I knew Adam's feedback wouldn't be the last I would receive on the story. Angie would put her agent's hat on and change things, and my editor—when I got one—would also want areas changed. Just because I was happy with it didn't mean that it was a finished product.

It was getting late and I was dead tired, having hardly slept the past few nights worrying about Adam. Climbing into bed, I snuggled into him, enjoying the warmth of his skin against my cheek.

“I'm so glad you're back, babe,” I murmured, holding him tight.

He kissed my head. “Me too. I'm sorry I was such an arse.”

Smiling, I let that comment go, resisting the urge to tell him he hadn't been an ass when he clearly had been.

“The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. You mean the world to me.”

I paused. “Why'd you call her?” I asked softly. I had to know; it was eating me up that he had phoned Annabel.

“I just wanted a prescription. I had no idea she would overreact and drag me off to the hospital.” He stroked my hair. “I think she just wanted to get me away from you.”

I snuggled in tighter. “Well she managed that by not lettin' me visit you in the hospital.”

He raised his head to gaze down at me. “Did you come to visit?”

“Of course I did. I even brought you flowers.”

He sighed, shaking his head against the pillow. “Let me guess. They were…”

“Yellow roses,” we said in unison.

His hand brushed my hair from my brow as he kissed my head. “I should have known. She would never bring me flowers.”

“Do you think she's still in love with you?”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating and bouncing my head. “I don't know if she's capable of loving anyone other than herself. I think she just doesn't like the fact that you make me happy. She took great delight in breaking my heart, but you've mended it, Evie. I feel whole again.”