Finally Found (7 page)

“Do you want a bubble bath to get cleaned up or to help you relax? Can I pour you a glass of wine? We have a nice wine collection…” He was trying to be a good host, but naturally, with his reputation, she would never see it that way.

“Seriously, forget about the seduction scene. It isn’t going to happen. Apparently you’d stand a better chance if I was a lesbian.” She chuckled. “I just want to go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

He smiled, but before he could speak, she interrupted again.

“Alone. I will be sleeping alone.”

Adam smiled wider. “Good. And you want coffee in the morning. Just like you…mean and abrasive.”

It was her turn to laugh. “No, light and sweet. I don’t know
why
that’s so hard for you to remember.”

He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to be that way around me. Help me remember. Tomorrow morning…we’ll start with a do-over.”

“A do-over, huh?” She was trying to sound serious, but he could tell that his breath against her ear had affected her at least a little bit. And that was a start.

He turned the handle on the door they were standing next to. It was the one guest room on this wing of the house, right next to the master, where he planned to spend the night. For some reason, he wanted to be close by. What if she woke up in the middle of the night with nightmares and he wasn’t there for her? He shook his head. She wasn’t Haley. And he was definitely not Sam. “Goodnight,” he said quietly. “I’ll be in the bedroom next door. All the bedrooms are suites with private baths, so you have nothing to worry about. You’ll be completely alone. I’ll see you in the morning for coffee. What time?”

“You know that I’m off the clock, right? You know that I’m not making it, right? I mean, I just feel like we should establish that before bed so everyone knows where they stand.” Her hands were on her hips.

He passed her the backpack she had left on the stoop that he had been carrying throughout the house. She reached out to get it, and while she was looking down, he couldn’t resist planting a light kiss on the tip of her nose. “Sleep well. I’ll make you one nasty coffee in the morning.”

Then he turned on his heels and headed further down the hall. It wouldn’t be easy staying in that room all night, but he had little choice. If he stayed in his old room, she would be in another wing of the house. He hadn’t been in the master bedroom since his mother died in there. She was the center of their family. While his father was the breadwinner, she was the one who made everything right.

Mom always knew how to handle Father. He was as formal as she was informal. The only time Adam ever knew the old man to relax and smile…it was around her. Once she was officially diagnosed with breast cancer, his father struggled to make things as good and perfect as she had, to take over the role she had played in order to allow her time to recuperate to fight for her life. He tried to create a bond, a closeness that they hadn’t experienced previously. It began with him eating breakfast with his sons every morning. It continued by sharing a car to the agency during the week. As for their mother, Father tried to make all of her dreams come true.

One last time they came to the Hamptons. Adam remembered that trip so well. He was still living at home because he didn’t feel the need to move out. He never wanted girls to spend the night and since so many of his friends had apartments he rarely slept a night at home. The first night of that last trip, he had stood outside his parents’ bedroom door. He had his fist poised to knock, but instead he stood there listening to them.

Shocked, he realized Father was crying. Mom was comforting him. She told him how he was going to carry on without her. She thanked him for this amazing life they had together. She praised him for building such a solid advertising agency that would help the family carry on. She told him she appreciated that he had made it possible for her to raise their sons, to pursue her hobbies, to travel and enjoy her life. She had no regrets. She was filled with happy thoughts and oh so much love.

That was when Adam finally pulled himself away. Everything changed for him in that moment. His father had cried. He never knew the old man to have more than two emotions. He was serious or happy. He had never even seen his father get mad. After dating in college and high school, and college girls while he was in high school…Adam couldn’t even fathom ever loving a woman like his parents clearly loved each other. He loved. It wasn’t an emotion he was incapable of. He loved his brother, like a brother. He loved his parents, like a son should. But this idea of romantic love, of being so completely devoted to another person, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. How could he ever find this love his parents had? His father had never cheated, never even looked at another woman. This wasn’t a case of a son idealizing his father. Adam had observed and then asked. The words his father spoke stayed with him.

“Your mother is the most incredible person in the world. I can’t imagine my life without her. I have no interest in anyone else, in ever doing anything that would cheapen what we have. She deserves everything, so I started by giving her and no one else my heart, body, and mind.”

That is probably why his father died soon after his mother. No one had ever doubted the depth of his devotion to her. It was simply highly unusual, given their station. Most couples with their economic status had flirted, if not outright had an affair with the tennis pro, the golf pro, the personal trainer or masseur, but not them. No wonder he was thirty years old and had never been in love. Hell, he had never even been in deep like.

With that sad thought echoing in his mind, he drifted off to sleep, alone in his bed on his birthday. This was new. Not the alone in his bed part. That was very familiar. That was comfortable. That was what was necessary, safer, and better for everyone involved. Ah, but he was used to getting birthday sex first. It was a long-standing tradition.

There was that moment when she
woke up and stretched and she had to pause and think about where she was. Normally, when she stretched, she could touch the ceiling above her in the loft. It was…cozy. She liked snuggling up against the railing. She liked slinking down under the covers and feeling the wall with her feet. It was security. Now, as she opened her eyes slowly struggling to wake up while being assaulted by the sun pouring in through the gauzy curtains, she fought to remember for a moment just where she was.

Ah, yes. She reached for her phone on the nightstand. She didn’t have one of these at home. According to her cell, it was only 8am. On a Sunday. And she had been in bed roughly four hours. Why in the world was she already awake? She lay still and listened. As unfamiliar as every aspect of the room had been, there was one very familiar, very welcome sound in the distance. And the smell was both welcome and easily recognizable. Good morning, coffee!

“Come to me, lover,” she all but purred as she imagined drinking a nice steaming cup. There was no better way to jump start a day. Only when she opened her eyes again after one especially delightful stretch, Adam was hovering over her with a bed tray.

“Good morning, Cammie. Coffee, made just like you claim to be…light and sweet.” He leaned in and whispered, “Clearly you are a real blond, so you know which part I’m still doubting, right?” He chuckled.

That had her gripping the covers around her. He
knew
she was a real blond? He must have seen the panic on her face.

“Your eye brows and eye lashes,” he explained. “They never lie. Here,” he said as he set the tray around her. “You really need this. And I wasn’t sure what you normally ate, so I brought a selection.”

She stared at the tray while he propped up pillows behind her back. What the hell? Who was this guy? He was nothing like she had seen, imagined, or heard. He was…nice. “Are you still trying to charm me into bed?” She glanced at him with tilted head, trying to figure him out. “I may already be in bed, but there’s little chance of you joining me.”

“Why are you so determined to ruin this morning? Can’t you just say ‘thank you, Adam?’ I woke up from what was essentially a nap, went to the market and picked all this stuff up…” He was about to continue when she interrupted.

“You don’t have a car. And last time I checked you didn’t even have a bankcard or wallet. Your brother wiped you out. Or was all of that a lie?” She narrowed her eyes.

He cleared his throat and seemed nervous. “No, that was the truth. This morning was…an exaggeration. I always keep some emergency cash here.” He glanced down at her. “I
was
a boy scout.” She rewarded him with a half smile. “And saying I called the market for a delivery doesn’t quite hold the same punch as me somehow going there myself.” He threw his hands in the air. “I give up. Let me know if the aforementioned after effects of the coffee kick in.”

She looked at him utterly confused. “What?”

“Come talk to me when you are ready to be nice,” he said from the hall. And with that, he shut the door behind him.

Cammie studied the tray. Everything was plated beautifully. The market couldn’t have done that. There was a selection of bagels and pastries, a bowl of freshly prepared fruit salad with honeydew, cantaloupe, pineapple, strawberries and grapes in it. There was every breakfast condiment known to man…butter, jelly, cream cheese, sugar in a dish and cream in a mini white ceramic pitcher. There was even a copy of the Sunday paper in the side pocket of the tray. Damn. She was going to have to eat her words. She was going to have to be nice and apologetic. Damn. Damn damn damn. Well, this was no way to end a weekend or start a day. She leaned back after preparing a steaming mug of coffee…just the way she liked it. Her hands were wrapped around it. She liked the fit, and the way the warmth was spreading inside and out. He had even fluffed her pillows.

She sighed.

By the time she was on her second cup, she was beginning to feel more normal. By the time she had eaten a Cheese Danish, and most of the fruit salad, she was beginning to feel happy. And by the time she had taken a long hot shower, dressed in fresh clothes from her backpack and applied her moisturizer with SPF and her favorite lip-gloss, she felt ready to face the world. Of course, since Adam was the only one around, he would have to suffice.

After making the bed and packing up her belongings, she headed out of the room. She paused for a moment to survey it from the hall, partially to ensure she hadn’t left anything behind, but mostly to try to remember every aspect of the room later. Cin would want to hear all about it for sure. Yes, this was most definitely her baby sister’s cup of tea. Of course, after the way she left the party so abruptly the night before, she was probably going to be suffering from the silent treatment for a good long time so that discussion would have to wait. With Thanksgiving only days away, that could make for one long and miserable holiday. Why did she not think of these things in advance? As much as she was prepared for practically any situation, she never seemed to have the foresight to think through the result of her impulsive actions.

To her surprise, Adam was sitting in the great room reading his own Sunday paper as she entered. Since she had one in her hand that had come with her tray, she couldn’t help but blurt out the first thought that came to mind upon seeing him. “You bought two!?”

He sighed before even closing the paper or looking at her. Cammie realized she probably deserved that. “Well, since I couldn’t guarantee that we would be eating in the same room, I thought it wise to have two copies. You like your coffee in the morning and I like my newspaper. It’s part of my morning routine.” He raised an eyebrow at her, challenging her to find fault with his explanation.

She knew that look well. Her father always used it with her mother. Every single time her mother caved and would melt into his arms. She had asked about that once. She remembered her mother’s explanation vividly ever since. She always said that she knew her father was The One out of all the many men she dated because it was simply impossible to stay mad at him. Cammie, though she looked remarkably like her mother, rarely dated. She had yet to find a guy that she couldn’t stay mad at.

“You know,” he said seriously, “you are making this do-over really challenging.” After making that remark, he simply stared at her and waited for a response.

It was her turn to sigh. She walked over and sat in the chair across from him. She dropped the bag to the ground, set the tray and newspaper on the coffee table. At the moment, she was at a loss. She really didn’t know what to say. Her plan was simple. She was going home, back to her teeny tiny cozy apartment in a lousy part of the city where she felt amazingly comfortable and safe. There she was going to work on studying. She had projects due at the end of the semester. Though she was technically on break, this was the perfect time for her to get ahead. After all, come the first of the year, she was opening her own catering company. She had no clients yet, but the good news was that the project she had to complete as part of her MBA was a business plan. She would have everything all figured out. She would be ready to launch. This was her dream and she was ready to make it happen. Her days of wearing a bustier or a clown nose or cowboy boots or anything else that was costume related…well, they were officially over.