More Than Rum (The Maple Leaf Series Book 3) (4 page)

No such luck.

Something exploded behind him,
sending him to his hands and knees. Sharp rocks cut into his palms and a
heaviness descended onto his legs. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a body
draped across his calves.

Well, parts of a body anyway.

Immediately, his stomach heaved,
and he vomited bile and dirt and blood as his ribs screamed in protest. His
arms buckled and he pitched forward, his head cracking down on the ground near
his own puke.

Get up. Get up.

His brain ordered him to keep
going, but his body no longer had the ability to comply. All that training, all
those drills, everything he’d prepared for and still he’d ended up a pile of
organs and bones loosely contained in his flesh.

Scratch that. Some of those
organs were definitely leaking out of holes in that flesh.

Again he tried to take a deep
breath, to regroup, to get to his goddamn feet, but he could do none of those
things. If only he could get up, put the enemy in the crosshairs of his rifle,
and shoot. It was what he’d been trained for. Sharpshooting was his specialty.
He was known for picking off hostiles with ridiculous precision. But spots
danced before his eyes now and even blinking seemed a monumental task.

So he didn’t.

He hoped his parents and sister
would forgive him for dying. He’d promised them he wouldn’t, but apparently
that wasn’t his decision. The Universe had other plans.

He coughed. It felt as if
knives were jabbing between each of his ribs. He clutched a handful of dirt, sure
it was the last time he’d feel the earth beneath him. He used his last well of
energy to finally close his eyes. Rifle fire was the last thing he heard.

Adam shot awake in his bed,
gasping for air and covered in sweat. The sheet and blankets were pooled at his
waist, and he struggled to free himself of them and get out of bed. His heart
was at jackhammer level, threatening to smash right through his sternum. He
slumped against the cool surface of the wall behind him and fought to regulate
his breathing, fought for control, fought to stay in the here and now and not
slip into the there and then.

Jesus Christ
. Would
these fucking nightmares ever stop? He was so tired. He couldn’t remember the
last time he’d slept through an entire night. Most of the time he ended up on
the couch, watching something brainless until his eyelids could no longer put
up the fight. It always came to this though. This snapping awake and feeling as
if he were dying all over again.

What was the point of the
nightmares? He’d survived. He’d been miraculously found and given medical care.
He was okay, but his brain hadn’t gotten the goddamned memo.

He stumbled in the dark to the
bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. It didn’t help. It never did.
Tasting blood again, he turned on the light and studied his lip. The split had
opened again. He took care of that, and after changing into a fresh T-shirt, he
padded on bare feet to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, which
unfortunately, was still empty. He’d have to do something about that soon.

Or get Wendie to do
something about that soon.

She was good like that. She
wouldn’t let him starve. Hell, if she knew he was up every night, multiple
times, and going through multiple T-shirts, she’d insist on coming over to sing
him a lullaby. Eight years older than Adam, Wendie had sung him lullabies quite
successfully when they were kids. Sometimes he wished he could go back to that
time when his biggest problem was choosing what she’d sing.

Throwing himself on the couch
now, he turned on the tube and prepared to get zombified. As luck would have it,
a zombie movie marathon was playing on one of the channels. Perfect. He
slouched down so his head rested against the back of the couch and propped his
feet up on the coffee table. Pulling a blanket over himself, he settled in to
watch as humans battled brain-hungry zombies oozing blood and flesh. It should
have disturbed him. It should have made him uneasy. He should have chosen
something with daisies and love songs and a happily ever after to help him
sleep, but it wouldn’t have made a difference.

He was numb. Hopeless.

Hope.

She didn’t like celery. That
hadn’t come up on the handful of dates they’d been on before he’d left for the
PTSD treatment. He’d never met anyone else who didn’t like celery. He’d never
met anyone else like her. Staring into her big brown eyes when she’d looked up
at him in Wendie’s kitchen had been like staring into a deep well of… of
possibility. He had been able to see his own reflection in her eyes, and he
wondered what she saw when she looked at him.

Was she having trouble sleeping
tonight after her experience at Black Wolf Tavern? He hated to think she was
wide awake like he was, afraid to close her eyes, continuously picturing that
douchebag who’d attacked her. At least he’d gotten the bastard.

But I could have done more.

He could have folded her into
his arms when he’d gotten back to the bar. He could have whispered words of
consolation to her. He could have driven her home or to his place or to
anywhere she’d wanted to go. He could have…

This wasn’t productive. He
hadn’t done any of those things because, bottom line, Hope Stannard deserved
much better than he could give her.

Adam went back to watching
zombies terrorize a group of children on a broken-down school bus, and he must
have closed his eyes, because the next thing he heard was his cell phone
ringing. Morning light streamed into the living room now, and though he’d
gotten some sleep, he still felt like absolute shit.

He dragged his legs off the
coffee table and picked up his phone. “What?”

“Man, you need to work on your
phone etiquette,” Orion said.

“I’ll keep that in mind. What
do you want?” Adam stood and stretched, but he’d gotten up too fast and the
room spun around him like a fucking top. He sunk back to the couch and rubbed
his left ear, which still buzzed sometimes and threw him off balance.

“I’d like your lumberjacking
services. I’ve tagged two trees on the southeast corner of my property. They
are slated to become two giraffe sculptures.”

“Giraffes? Who the hell wants
giraffe sculptures?”

“Some lady in Boston. Her twins
love giraffes and she wants carvings for their tenth birthday this spring,”
Orion said.

“I think my parents gave me a
skateboard for my tenth birthday. It wasn’t even a new one.”

“Well, this chick wants the
giraffes as true to scale as I can make them and is willing to pay top dollar.
She selected the price she’d pay, which was more than I would have charged, so
how can I say no? Besides, if she likes them, she’ll tell her rich friends, and
I’ll have opened up another market for myself.”

Adam yawned and tried standing
again, slowly this time. “Aww, aren’t you cute, going all businessman on me?”

“Shut up, dude,” Orion said
around a chuckle. “Can you cut the trees today by any chance? They’ll need time
to dry out and whatnot.”

“What the hell else am I
doing?” He hadn’t meant to sound so grumpy, but since he’d gotten back from the
failed treatment, he was doing grumpy
really
well.

“Oh, boo-hoo. I know winter can
be slow for all of us outdoorsmen, but you’ll be at the bar now. That ought to
supply some entertainment, though you do realize bartending involves being
friendly to other humans, right?”

“Ha-ha. I can be friendly.”

“I know. At least I remember
anyway.” Orion was quiet for a moment. “It’s going to get better, man.”

“Maybe.” Adam wanted to skip
the counseling session, so he said, “I’ll pop over in a few, okay?”

“Great. I’m going to do a quick
plow up to the tree site so you can get your bucket truck in. See you.”

Adam tossed his phone onto the
coffee table and, after getting dressed in jeans and his favorite red and black
flannel shirt, he went down to his workshop and loaded his truck with a
chainsaw, an axe, his helmet and chaps, gloves, and a toolbox. He drove over to
Orion’s, stopping only to get coffee and a muffin from Micky’s, the little
corner deli where all Danton’s men congregated at some point during the day.

“Here.” He held out the coffee
he’d bought for Orion. “See, I can be friendly, you idiot.”

Orion took the cup and smiled
at Adam. He did that a lot now. Smiled. It was sappy and ridiculous and… and…
enviable.

“Where’s my buddy, Ian?” Adam
asked before Orion could regale him with some blissful tale of how wonderful it
was to be in love with a gorgeous woman.

“He’s with Wendie at the
supermarket. I believe they are buying things for
your
refrigerator.”

“Awesome. I’m at emergency
level.” He looked back at Orion’s house—and at Hope’s Jeep parked in the
driveway. “And the ladies?”

“Sage and Myah are with Hope
‘researching’ at the pet store in St. Jamesbury before meeting Wendie at her
friend’s for puppy viewing.” Orion rolled his eyes. “I swear if Sage comes home
with a puppy, I’m going to kill her.”

“If by kill you mean get all
smoochy with her, then I believe you.”

Orion gave him a light shove.
“I don’t get all smoochy.”

“Dude, you are the definition
of smoochy. Clearly you don’t know what the term means.” Adam walked back to
his truck.

“Whatever. I’m coming with
you.” Orion slid into the passenger seat.

Adam got in, gave Hope’s Jeep
another glance, and navigated onto the path Orion had plowed into his woods.
Some low branches scraped at the bucket on his truck. “I can cut this low stuff
for you.”

“Okay.” Orion looked ahead out
the windshield. “I’ve gotten a little behind on my maintenance.”

The sheepish grin on his
buddy’s face spoke volumes about lazy mornings in bed with his fiancée and
hours laughing with his daughter now that she was out of the clutches of his
ex-wife and lived with him again. Adam liked knowing that some guys could have
it all. The Universe did have balance.

He was just on the wrong side
of the damn scale.

“OMG. They’re all so cute. How’s
a person supposed to pick just one?” Hope flopped onto the floor, Dalmatian
puppies crawling all over her. Each one was a tiny treasure. She’d found
something adorable about each and every one and was no closer to selecting the
puppy she’d take home with her. “Myah, help me.”

Orion’s daughter pushed her
mane of black curls out of her face and giggled as a precocious pup climbed
into her lap and licked her chin. “I don’t know, Auntie Hope. I love them all!”
Two more puppies battled for room on the girl’s lap, and she stroked their
spotted fur, picking one up to nuzzle nose-to-nose.

“If I didn’t already have
Frisco, I’d take one of these sweet babies,” Wendie said from the couch where a
puppy was curled in a ball on her lap. “Good thing I dropped Ian off at your
mother’s, Sage, because he wouldn’t know what to do with all these pups.”

“I just want them all to go to
good homes,” Wendie’s friend, Liza, said. “I wish I could keep them, but this
house isn’t big enough, and I don’t want to be The Crazy Dalmatian Lady of this
neighborhood.”

Hope put her hand to her brow.
“I’m having a hard time here. I didn’t think it’d be this much of a challenge.”
She just wanted a buddy. Why did it feel like so much more than that?

Because I’m a lonely woman
who is letting too much ride on a single puppy.

“Maybe we need to have a
contest or something,” Sage suggested as she scratched the black and white
belly of the puppies’ mama sprawled out in front of her.

“A contest?” Myah asked.

“Yeah, what if we line them all
up on the other side of the room and whoever gets to Hope on this side of the
room first gets to go home with her?” Sage shrugged. “It’s the best idea I can
come up with.”

“I guess that would be fair,”
Myah agreed.

“Let’s do it.” Hope picked up one
of the puppies and made her way to the other side of the room.

Myah, Sage, Wendie, and Liza
each grabbed a pup and followed Hope. They set the furbabies down, and Sage
took charge of the one Hope had.

“Go over there now.” Sage
motioned to the opposite end of Liza’s small living room. “We’ll release the
hounds at the same time and see who our winner is.”

Hope got into position and sat
on the floor facing the pups. “Okay. Let ’em loose.”

The puppies were set free and
Hope made encouraging noises to get them to come to her. Watching black and
white spotted bodies roll into one another, nip at each other, trip each other,
and cause general mayhem was hysterical.

“I’ve got to video this,” Liza
said, grabbing her phone.

“Go, puppies, go!” Myah cheered
and clapped her hands. She was as cute as the puppies in her pink leggings and
pink and white striped sweater—an outfit Hope had bought for the kid’s seventh
birthday two months ago.

Four of the puppies tangled
with one another as they made forward progress toward Hope, but one lagged
behind. Smaller than the others, this pup had one all black ear and one mostly
white with a few black dots. Its feet appeared to be a little too big for its
scrawny body right now. It kept tripping itself, but Hope knew its body would
catch up as it grew. It let out a few squeaks when it tumbled, but always got
back up, determined to finish the race.

Hope was so focused on that pup
she didn’t realize one was already in her lap until Myah tapped her shoulder.

“Auntie Hope, this guy won.”

Hope looked down, but her heart
belonged to another pup now. “I want that one.” She pointed to the struggling pup
still making its way toward her. Gently, she gave each pup that made it into
her lap a pat then set it aside.

“Come on, girl.” She held out
her hand and wiggled her fingers. “You can do it.”

The puppy stopped and angled
its head to the side when Hope spoke, her black eyes big and bottomless, but
full of curiosity. A spray of black spots gave the puppy’s face character and a
wet, black nose sniffed at the carpet every now and again.

Finally, the puppy reached Hope
and when she picked it up, it pressed its body against her chest, a warm tongue
lapping at her neck.

“Yeah, you’re the one.” Hope
hugged the puppy tightly and it didn’t seem to mind a bit.

“What will you name her?” Myah
asked.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll need to
think about that.” Giving your new best friend a name seemed like an important
task to Hope—one she didn’t want to take lightly.

“If I were taking one of these
puppies home,” Myah paused to look at Sage who shook her head no, “I’d name it
Spot like on Spot’s Firehouse, ʼcept I don’t watch that show anymore.”

“Because it’s for little kids,
right?” Sage elbowed Wendie sitting next to her on the couch.

“Yeah.” Myah nodded once.
“Little kids.”

“And you’re not a little kid
anymore,” Wendie said, fighting not to laugh.

“No, Auntie Wendie. I’m big.
Seven is big.” Myah gave Hope’s puppy a pat then folded her hands in her lap.

“Seven is big indeed,” Liza
said. “I’ll bet you’re big enough to help Hope with her puppy.”

At this, Myah’s blue eyes lit
up. “Can I, Auntie Hope? Can I help you?”

Hope waved Myah over as she
shifted her puppy to her left leg. Pulling Myah down so the girl sat on her
right leg, she said, “You’d better help me. I’ve never owned a dog, and you
have all that experience with Ranger.”

Myah planted a sloppy kiss on
Hope’s cheek and took the puppy into her own lap. She held the puppy up so it
was eye level with her face. “You’re going to love our family, pup. It’s the
best!”

Hope gave Myah a squeeze then
took her puppy when Myah went to sit with Sage. It would be good to have
something to take care of. Something that needed her attention. Something to
snuggle with at night. If she couldn’t have what Rick and Sage had found in
Lily and Orion, then she’d have a dog, dammit. And she’d be perfectly happy
with that dog.

Yes, she would.

Indeed.

She didn’t need a man,
especially one of the broody, handsome, military types. Nope. Not her. She and
her puppy would be fine. They wouldn’t be afraid of the dark or driving alone
or tavern parking lots. They’d be fearless. Brave. Invincible.

It all sounded good in theory
anyway, but when the dark came, would it be like last night where she blinked
up at the ceiling of her room? All night. Her eyes were like sandpaper today as
a result.  

Sighing, Hope kissed the top of
her puppy’s head. “What do you say, pup? Want to go home?”

The pup pushed its nose against
Hope’s cheek then let out a little whine.

“Can we show my daddy your new
puppy first?” Myah asked.

“He’s not going to let us have
one, sweet pea,” Sage said as she ran a hand over Myah’s runaway curls.

“I know, but he gets mushy
around puppies. It’s funny.” Myah beamed a smile.

“Does he now?” Sage asked.
“Well, this I’ve got to see. What do you say, Hope? A quick stop into my house
before you head home? You have to get your Jeep anyway.”

“Sure.” She only had Black Wolf
Tavern’s website on her work schedule for the rest of the day anyway.

Everyone thanked Liza and piled
into Sage’s orange Subaru, affectionately named The Pumpkinmobile by the
family. Hope and Myah cracked up in the back seat on the ride to Sage’s house
as the puppy crawled between their laps and tried to get a look out the window.
When Hope hoisted the puppy so it could see outside, its black eyes tracked
everything as it went by. It barked at passing cars and wagged its tail. Hope fell
in love with the pup a little more as each moment passed.

“I think you picked the right
one, Auntie Hope,” Myah said.

“Me too.” She rubbed between
the puppy’s ears, loving that it looked back at her with adoring eyes.

When they pulled into Sage’s driveway,
all the fun and ease of the morning drained out of Hope at the sight of Adam’s
bucket truck. Her hands got tingly. Her throat got dry. Her lower regions
awakened, and that was all without actually seeing the man.

You are such a loser, Hope
Stannard.
Did a more pathetic woman exist? Still wishing for a man who
didn’t want her was beyond stupid.

Well, she’d gather up her pup
and the supplies they’d bought at the pet store, hop into her Jeep, and be on
the road before she even glanced Adam’s way. Simple.

“Thanks for coming with me,
ladies,” Hope said as she waited by Sage’s trunk.
Hurry up. Hurry up.
Adam could come out of the house or the workshop or the woods. Wherever it was
hunky lumberjacks hid.

“Wait,” Myah said. “I gotta get
Daddy.” She bounded for the back porch stairs of Sage and Orion’s farmhouse.

Hope grabbed Sage’s coat
sleeve. “I gotta get out of here.”

Wendie came around to Hope’s
other side. “I know you probably think Adam’s a jerk,” she said quietly.

Hope shook her head, prepared
to deny thinking that, but something in Wendie’s eyes stopped her.

“He’s trying the best he can
right now,” Wendie continued. “If you can be patient, I think you and he could
have something special. He really is great.” She left Sage and Hope at the
trunk and followed after Myah into the house.

“I haven’t decided if Adam’s
great or not yet,” Sage said, “but that right there is
my
home, and
there is no way I’m going to let you be afraid of coming inside.” She reached
into the trunk and grabbed a few bags. “Let’s put these in your Jeep then we’re
showing my fiancé that puppy. I’m not about to miss an opportunity to see him
get all mushy.”

Hope nodded, fully aware that a
part of her—a larger part than she would have liked—wanted to go inside. If she
could blame it on Sage making her go inside, maybe it’d be all right.

The porch door ripped open as
Hope and Sage made their way up the steps with the puppy squirming in Hope’s
arms.

“I made Daddy sit down in the
living room so you can show him the puppy,” Myah said.

“Good thinking.” Sage took
coats and hung them on pegs by the door while Myah danced around Hope.

“Can I bring the puppy to
Daddy? Please, Auntie Hope?”

“As long as you don’t let him
fall in love with her. She’s mine.” Hope transferred the pup to Myah’s waiting
arms.

“I already love her.” Myah
squeezed the pup to her chest. “She’s my first official cousin!” She ran toward
the living room, yelling, “I’ve got her, Daddy!”

“Wait for us.” Sage grabbed
Hope’s hand and tugged her after Myah. “We’ve got to see this.”

Whether she was ready or not,
Hope stumbled after Sage who had a vise grip on her wrist. Her gaze settled on
Orion first. He was seated in a chair facing her, the puppy standing on her
hind legs in his lap, her front paws working their way up his chest. He was
focused on the puppy, a soft, dopey smile on his lips and his big hands
supporting the pup’s body as if it were an infant.

“Myah wasn’t kidding,” Sage
said, releasing her hold on Hope.

Thou shalt not lust after
one’s almost brother-in-law.

That was a commandment or a
rule or something, wasn’t it? But wow. Was there anything hotter than a rough
mountain man holding a puppy?

When Sage dropped a kiss on
Orion’s cheek, he motioned for Adam to come to him. He passed the puppy to Adam
who’d had his back to Hope in his seat on the couch. When he turned around to
sit again, Hope nearly dripped to the wood floor beneath her feet.

Her puppy looked so tiny
against Adam’s chest. He could basically carry the critter in one oversized
hand, but that wasn’t the part that got her. What turned Hope’s insides to hot
liquid was the way the puppy settled in the crook of Adam’s bent arm, her rump
resting against a lovely, toned bicep still visible beneath his flannel shirt.
He looked down to the pup, that split in his lip making him look pretty badass,
and stroked her small spotted head with two fingers.

“Who’s a pretty girl?” His
voice was soft. Gentle.

Every piece of Hope—every
single solitary cell—wanted Adam to be asking her that question.

And if he happened to be naked
when he asked it? Even better.       

****

Focus on the mutt. Do not
look at Hope. Do. Not.

He looked. How could he not?
She was right there, wearing tight jeans tucked into black leather boots and a
fluffy blue-green sweater that ordered his fingers to touch it. It was taking
all his willpower not to hand that puppy off to someone and pet Hope instead. Her
long, blonde hair was held back in a loose ponytail, a few wisps framing her
perfect face. Dangly earrings caught his attention as his gaze roamed down the
line of her neck to the V of her sweater—a V that pointed to a place he
definitely wanted to explore. Thoroughly.

Forcing his gaze back up to her
face, he noted that her big brown eyes were a little bloodshot. “Did you sleep
last night?”

“No.” Hope offered him a sad
smile—one that broke his heart—and shrugged. “I let my head win.”

He wiggled the puppy a bit.
“Tonight will be different.”

Hope took a step closer, and it
was as if she’d brought static electricity with her because the very air around
him was charged with something. “It’d better be.”

She reached out her hand, and
he watched her every move as she made contact with the puppy’s head and gently
stroked between its ears. How hard would it be to get her to rub him like that?
And why the fuck did he want that so bad?

“How about you?” she asked.

“How about me what?”

“Did you sleep last night?”

“No, but I never do.” He sunk
into a seat across from Orion.

Hope sat in front of him on the
coffee table. “Maybe you should get a puppy too.”

He definitely should
get
something, but a puppy probably wasn’t the answer. “I wouldn’t be a good dog
owner.”