Read Just His Type (Part One) Online

Authors: Victoria June

Tags: #romance

Just His Type (Part One) (8 page)

BOOK: Just His Type (Part One)
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Everything was moving along splendidly until I heard the rumble of the truck outside. Every head shot up and we all paused.

 

"That'll be your father and Joe," Mom said brightly. "Vi, Lilly honey, can you set the table for me? Adam, please pass me the pepper mill. Matt, Chuck, go take off your shoes like you should have done when you came in the house in the first place and please wash your hands."

 

My heart raced wildly in my chest as we all leapt to do my mother's bidding. I brushed past Adam on my way to retrieve plates and cups and he touched my arm gently, stopping me. His smile was electric and for a moment I forgot there was anyone else in the room.

 

"You alright?" he asked quietly enough for only me to hear.

 

I nodded, swallowing past the lump in my throat. I'd known Mom and Vi would like Adam, suspected Matt and Chuck would, but hadn't held out any hope for Dad and Joe. Dad was always the real test. "Are you?" I inquired, just as softly.

 

He nodded swiftly, but not before I saw the small flicker of hesitation in his remarkable green eyes. I tried to smile encouragingly. "Too late to back out now," I teased, pleased to be rewarded with a small grin. Adam leaned down and kissed me quickly. It was no more than a brief brush against my lips, but that didn't stop my father from clearing his throat loudly behind us and causing both Adam and I to jump like guilty teenagers.

 

"Who's this?" Dad growled. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, seeming to take up the entire space with his presence. When I was a little girl I'd been sure my Dad was the biggest man in the world: 6'5", 280 pounds of solid, hard-working farmer. He was darkly tanned from endless days on the back of a tractor, with rough-skinned hands and blue, blue eyes which never missed a thing. He was man of few words, but when he spoke we all listened.

 

"Adam Brooks, sir," Adam said smiling brightly with a confidence I was sure he couldn't be feeling. He held out his hand and my father eyed it warily, shaking it more out of habit than any genuine desire to, I was sure. "I'm a friend of Lilly's."

 

Dad didn't even try to disguise his frank appraisal of Adam. He noticed every inch of exposed tattoo and didn't miss the eyebrow ring or the practically shaved head either and I wondered which of those things made him raise a questioning eyebrow. "Nice apron," Dad said in a gravely tone.

 

Adam looked down at the flowered print, now spotted with cooking mess and then grinned widely at my Dad who remained nonplussed and immoveable. "Thanks, Mr. Tanner."

 

It wasn't the answer my Dad was expecting, that much was evident. For a quick second I thought I saw him smile just a little before he turned to me just as expressionless as always. "Lilly," he said lowly.

 

"Hi Dad," I said softly, moving in for a hug. He smelled like earth and sweat, a combination which was quintessentially my father. Dad hugged me back, but didn't say anything.

 

"Go get cleaned up," Mom said with a smile, bustling past me to give my father a kiss on the cheek. She had to stand on tiptoe to do so and he bent down dutifully so she could reach. Adam and I watched the ritual with twin smiles. It was more than evident who ran the Tanner household.

 

Dad obeyed Mom stoically with Joe following right behind. Matt and Chuck reappeared and helped Vi and I set the table, jostling good-naturedly for our usual seating positions. Adam helped Mom bring the food to the table, and by the time Dad and Joe sat down, the large piece of furniture fairly groaned under the weight of all the dishes. If it was a more elaborate meal than he was used to seeing for Sunday night supper, Dad said nothing.

 

There was a moment of awkward silence as we all sat waiting. At the head of the table, Dad cleared his throat.

 

"I'll say grace, Dear," Mom offered, although it was a job usually assigned to one of us kids.

 

"I think our guest should do it," Joe offered gruffly. It was the first thing he'd said since he walked in the door.

 

All around the table auburn eyebrows shot to the ceiling, even Dad looked slightly shocked. Only Adam remained unruffled as he sat beside me. I opened my mouth to argue, but Adam silenced me with a soft touch on my leg. He squeezed my thigh with reassurance and then bowed his head.

 

"Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord, Amen," Adam said with conviction and then crossed himself in a casual fashion while we all sat open-mouthed.

 

"Holy hell, he's Catholic," Joe muttered, digging into the mashed potatoes. Mom gasped, Vi giggled, and I blushed.

 

"Joe," Dad growled, shooting his eldest son a dirty look. "That's enough."

 

"Not a very good one, I'm afraid," Adam joked lightly, giving my leg another squeeze before dishing out roast beef onto my plate and then his. "No matter how many times the nuns gave me the strap most of it never sank in."

 

"You were taught by nuns, Dude?" Chuck laughed, Matt echoed it.

 

"They used corporal punishment?" Vi gasped at the same time.

 

"Yes to both questions," Adam laughed in his deep voice. "Don't worry Vi," he reassured my little sister, who was looking concerned. "That was a long time ago. They don't do that anymore."

 

"How old
are
you?" Vi asked with carefree curiosity. I almost interrupted to scold her for her rudeness, but stopped when I realized I wanted to hear the answer for myself, because I still had no idea what the answer was.

 

"Thirty-two," Adam said with a grin, passing my Mom the peas.

 

"Let the poor man eat," Mom admonished before Vi could fire off another question. I had a few of my own which I wanted to ask, but not with my family in the room. Adam sure as hell didn't look thirty-two.

 

The table fell to silence as we all dug into the huge and excellent meal. Mom had really outdone herself and everyone's enjoyment was evident as the piles of food grew continually smaller.

 

"S'good, Pat," my Dad said finally as he finished off the last of his meal. He gifted my mother with one of his rare smiles. "Thank you."

 

Mom beamed across the long table at Dad. "I had excellent help. Adam is a chef in town."

 

A glimmer of interest crossed Dad's stony face. "Really? Where?"

 

"At
La Langoustine Fâchée
," Adam said nonchalantly. We all stared wordlessly at him. Even my Dad had heard of it, probably because
La Langoustine
was not only the best restaurant on the island and specialized in catering to a very distinctly wealthy group of customers, but it was also ranked one of the best restaurants in Canada.

 

I sat quietly beside Adam and felt like an idiot. Oh, how Rhiannon and Adele would laugh; they'd wanted me to date someone less career-oriented than my usual type, someone less focussed on their job. What would they say when they found out I'd slept with a chef from the province's most celebrated restaurant? The Queen ate there the last time she'd visited, for cryin' out loud. They'd die laughing.

 

"Oh, isn't that nice?" Mom gushed. "You must really enjoy that, Adam dear." She rose and started clearing plates.

 

Adam nodded, standing to his feet and collecting empty dishes. Automatically I did the same. "It's been worth the move to the Island."

 

"You're not from here?" Vi asked quickly, before anyone else could have the privilege.

 

"Sorry, but no. Wish I was. I love it here," Adam said with a grin. He took my Dad's empty plate and balanced it easily on his arm before doing the same with Joe's, Chuck's, and Matt's. We all watched the balancing act with trepidation, but none more than Mom, who I suspect feared a great deal for her best china. "I grew up just outside of Toronto."

 

Joe snorted rudely into his beer, only to be treated to another of Dad's ice-cold glares.

 

"Chuck just graduated from school in Toronto, didn't you Chuck?" Mom prompted happily, beaming as she took dirty plates from Adam.

 

"U of T?" Adam asked with interest.

 

"Yeah," Chuck said sheepishly, ducking his auburn head and grinning. "Engineering."

 

"Good for you, Mate," Adam slapped Chuck's shoulder as he passed. Vi and I stared open-mouthed at the friendly gesture. Dad actually smiled.

 

"We'll have dessert later," Mom suggested, eyeing the dirty pots and pans with a small smile. "After the girls and I clean up."

 

"I can help," Adam offered, sounding sincere.

 

"Don't be silly, dear. You helped cook, and besides you must see a lot of dirty dishes at work." Mom pulled the apron out of Adam's hands and passed it to me. "Why don't you and the other boys go outside? I know they must be dying to take a look at the nice motorcycle of yours."

 

If Adam noticed or was bothered by being called a 'boy' he didn't reveal it. Vi and I smothered giggles and watched as Adam, Chuck, and Matt filed obediently from the kitchen with Dad trailing uncertainly behind. Joe left from the back door, heading in the opposite direction.

 

Once we had the dirty dish situation under control, Mom dismissed me and I wandered slowly out to the front yard, soaking in the quiet of the old farmhouse along the way. The large kitchen had been built as an add-on when I was a kid, but the rest of the building had stood on top of the breezy bluff for more than 150 years. A Tanner had been farming the same hectares of land since the island was settled in the late eighteenth century. There was a lot of history in my family and more than a great deal of pride. I desperately wanted Adam to see that.

 

Dad was sitting alone on the porch swing, watching as Adam, Chuck and Matt crowded around the motorcycle. Matt had his tools out and was under the bike fiddling with something while Adam crouched beside him talking and Matt watched with interest. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but the camaraderie between the three was obvious, even from where I stood.

 

A bank of threatening-looking clouds was rolling in off the sea and the darkness contained within them had me a little worried, it was a forty-five minute ride back to the city and I didn't think it would be as much fun in the rain. The wind picked up as well, whipping escaped tendrils of my ponytail across my face.

 

Dad patted the cushioned seat beside him and I sat; the groaning creak of the porch swing as familiar a sound as I'd ever heard. Dad slung his arm across the back of the seat and looked down at me. And then he smiled.

 

"He's a different sort of follow now isn't he?"

 

"That's an understatement, if I've ever heard one," I laughed loudly. Across the yard Adam's head swiveled at the sound and he winked at me before turning back to the boys.

 

Dad and I watched the three for a time, listening to the sound of their laughter over the ever-present rhythm of the waves slamming against the base of the bluff. The brisk breeze off the ocean was oddly warm for spring and I realized with a jolt that I'd missed home a lot more than I thought. I sighed happily.

 

"Think this one will stick around?" Dad asked gruffly, interrupting my thoughts.

 

I glanced up at the large man whose blue eyes were so like my own. "I hope so," I answered genuinely, a little surprised at the admission. I hadn't really thought about it, hadn't really had time, but that didn't make it less true.

 

"I hope so too," Dad said with a small grin. And that was the end of that.

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

We'd just sat down to dessert when the first clap of thunder shook the house. Everyone jumped except Dad and Adam who just looked at each other resignedly.

 

"Best get that machine of yours into the barn," Dad said gruffly. Adam nodded and he, Chuck, and Matt rose from the table to follow Dad silently out into the yard. Joe hadn't returned for dessert.

 

"He'll be down the road at Charlene's for the night, I'm sure," Mom sighed when I inquired about Joe.

 

"Charlene McMillan?" I asked incredulously; the McMillans had lived down the road from us as long as I could remember. "Since when are she and Joe dating?" I'd gone to high school with Charlene and never liked her; she was a nosy gossip in those days I was pretty sure little had changed.

 

"I wouldn't call it dating," Mom said grimly.

 

Vi giggled. "Yeah, I think she's more of a 'buddy', a fuc..."

 

"Violet!" Mom scowled darkly. "That's enough." She took a sip of her tea and picked half-heartedly at her slice of pie.

 

The men were gone for what seemed like a long time and I supposed they were not only stashing Adam's bike, but checking the barns and equipment before the storm fully hit. We could hear the storm approaching and when the fierce downpour finally hit the house with an audible surge it made all three of us jump. Mom, Vi, and I exchanged nervous glances.

 

"I don't think you'll be going anywhere tonight, Lilly dear," Mom said with a tired smile. "You'll have to stay. Adam can have the couch in the front room and you can bunk with Violet. It'll blow over by morning."

 

I opened my mouth to argue but Mom 'shushed' me in much the same way she'd been doing since I was a kid. I'd learned early in life never to argue with my mother, but at times I still felt it didn't hurt to try.

 

The back door blew open with a bang and four very wet and muddy men stumbled in. Only Dad appeared unconcerned about the weather.

 

Vi retrieved clean towels and passed them out while I stood watching Adam with a dry mouth as he toweled off as best he could. His t-shirt was plastered to his chest in the most distracting way and I don't think Mom or Vi missed that little fact either.

BOOK: Just His Type (Part One)
10.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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