Read More Than Rum (The Maple Leaf Series Book 3) Online
Authors: Christine DePetrillo
Adam followed her to the front
doors of the tavern, but she paused with her hand on the doorknob. Her
shoulders were tense, her legs stiff. He heard her take in a deep breath, hold
it, then sift it out like he had a habit of doing when he was anxious.
“No one is going to bother you
out there,” he said. “That asshole is in jail.” And Adam pledged to take down
anyone else who thought about attacking her.
“I know, but I keep picturing
that guy anyway. Or some other guy trying to do the same thing.” Her body
shuddered.
Adam reached for her hand,
smoothing his thumb over her knuckles. “Did you see my truck when you came in
tonight?”
She nodded.
“Okay, we’re going to go out
these doors and head in that direction.” He held up their joined hands. “I’ve
got you.”
He positioned himself in front
of her and opened the door. Her grip tightened on his hand as he led her to his
truck. Using his keychain, he unlocked the doors and opened the passenger side
for her. Without a word, she let go of his hand and climbed in. He shut the
door and jogged over to the driver’s side. As soon as he sat, he poked the key
into the ignition.
“Doing okay?” he asked as the
engine revved to life.
“Yeah. I’m good.” She smiled, and
he believed she was all right.
And I helped her be all
right.
That thought made something
crumble away from around his heart. Something he’d erected there to keep others
from discovering how fucked up he’d become. Something no one besides his sister
had been able to scale. Could he let Hope in? What would be the consequences of
doing so? Would he hurt her? Hadn’t he already hurt her?
Did he deserve a second chance?
They chatted about safe topics
as Adam navigated over snow-packed roads to get to his place. The usual frigid
January weather. The good work Rick had done rebuilding Orion’s barn roof. The
success of Lily’s bed-and-breakfast inn she operated out of her grandmother’s
elegant log cabin. The website Hope was going to make for Black Wolf Tavern.
Wendie’s job taking care of Orion’s father. Myah’s upcoming dance recital
they’d all been invited to. Olive and how Joy was simply in love with the new
puppy.
“She actually pushed me out of
the house tonight,” Hope said. “She claimed to need time to bond with her
‘furry grandchild.’ She’s out of her mind.”
“At least you’ll always have a
dog sitter.”
You know, if you wanted to take a trip to a tropical location
with me.
Where had that come from?
He wasn’t sure if tonight was
going well or not. They weren’t yelling at each other. Neither one of them was
crying. They hadn’t run out of conversation yet. That all had to be tallies on
the This is Going Well side, right?
“Olive has a great personality.
Something tells me I will have many options for dog sitters.” Hope unzipped her
jacket and fanned her face with her hand.
“Are you too warm?” Adam asked,
because damn, he was. “I don’t even have the heat on. You can open your window
if you want.”
Hope rolled down the window a
crack. “Thanks. I don’t know why I keep getting so hot.” She paused. “Actually,
that’s not true.”
“You’re not hot?”
“No. I am hot, but I do know
why.” She put her hand on top of his on the arm rest. “It’s because of you.”
At that moment, he drove over a
rut in the road, and he and Hope got jostled in their seats. He actually hit his
head on the roof of the cab, and Hope banged her elbow against the armrest.
“Sorry about that,” Adam said
as he eased up on the accelerator.
“That may have been my fault,”
Hope said. “Maybe I should be quiet for the rest of the drive.”
He looked her way, but it was too
dark to see her face, which was good. He needed to keep his eyes on the road
and his mind off the fact that he apparently made her hot.
That makes me hot.
He was in trouble. Big trouble.
It was like being in a foreign land with no map and no ability to speak the
language of the locals.
Fortunately, after a few quiet
minutes, they arrived at his home. Unfortunately, he couldn’t remember if he’d
put all his underwear away after doing laundry this afternoon. And the anxiety
medication he took? Was that out on the counter or had he stashed that in the
kitchen cabinet?
Shit.
This was why he didn’t take
women to his place, even Hope. The few dates they’d had never ended at his
house. They’d always met somewhere or had been in a larger crowd with Orion and
Sage or Rick and Lily.
Now they were in his driveway.
Just him and Hope. Hope and him. No other people to buffer. No other location
to protect the secrets. Vulnerable was not a feeling Adam enjoyed. His palms
were soaked, but Hope had actually taken her jacket all the way off, so maybe
she was in the same rickety boat with him.
Was she as unsure as he was?
But she was the one who said she was coming over. Wasn’t she in charge here?
Shouldn’t someone be in charge?
Breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Hope couldn’t believe she was
actually following Adam from his truck to a lovely barn-like building. She’d
never made it to his home on their other dates. Suggesting coming to his place
had seemed like a fantastic idea back at the tavern, but now she was almost in
full-blown-panic mode.
“My apartment is up there.”
Adam pointed to the top part of the barn. “Do you want to see my workshop down
here first?”
“Sure.”
Thank you, Universe.
That would give her more time to collect herself. More time to figure out
if she was capable of seducing Adam. Why hadn’t she done a Google search on
ways to seduce a man? Was there an
Idiot’s Guide to Seduction
or
Seduction
for Dummies
book? Either of those would have been helpful. Preferably with
illustrations.
Adam unlocked a standard door
next to two huge barn doors. He slid his arm inside and turned on a light.
“After you.” He motioned her inside, displaying a gentlemanly demeanor that was
quite the turn-on.
As if she needed to be turned
on even more by him. Just standing near him got her body humming.
The first thing Hope noticed
was the smell of wood and the amount of it inside. The walls were paneled with
knotty pine, and stacks of lumber of various species lined the wall across from
where she stood. The cement floor beneath her feet had been recently swept. She
could tell by the faint, parallel lines of sawdust left behind by the broom.
Something about picturing Adam sweeping up after a day of work made Hope buzz
pleasantly inside.
“It’s not much different from
Orion’s shop.” Adam leaned against his table saw.
“Or Rick’s,” Hope said, “but
every guy puts his own personal touch in his workshop.” She pointed to a metal
sign hung by the door that said,
There are at least twenty very sharp blades
in this room. Don’t fuck with me.
“Wendie bought me that for my
birthday.”
“I like it. It has attitude.”
Hope surveyed the rest of the
tools then walked over to a worktable in the center of the space. Sanded boards
in different sizes were spread out like pieces of a puzzle. “What’s this going
to be?”
“Diana wanted a coffee table
with drawers underneath for her living room.” Adam approached the table and
rummaged through a few papers nearby. “Here’s the picture she gave me.”
The table was gorgeous with a
chunky top, stocky legs, and small drawers with black, wrought iron pulls.
“This is going to be beautiful.”
“It’s a fun one to make,” Adam
said. “I like making drawers.” He picked up two pieces and fit the dovetail
grooves together. They locked tightly, like clasped fingers, and formed a
perfect 90-degree angle, giving Hope a sense of Adam’s skills. Woodworking
know-how was yet another turn-on.
“Have you ever made a
doghouse?”
Adam’s eyebrows rose at the
question. “Does my friend Olive need one?”
“I believe she does. A big one
she can grow into.”
“I’d love to make her one. Want
to go upstairs and draw out what you want?”
Good. A reason for going
upstairs. Way to ease into it, Adam.
“That’d be great.”
Nodding, he led her to a set of
stairs. “Right this way.” He climbed the stairs first to unlock a door Hope
assumed led to his apartment. Before letting her in, he turned and said, “Let
me apologize in advance for any laundry I may have left out, namely my boxer
shorts. I didn’t realize I would be having company.”
“I’ll be sure to look the other
way.”
Yeah, right
. The possibility of seeing his boxer shorts made her
want to charge inside. The possibility of seeing what he kept
inside
his
boxer shorts was even more appealing.
Again, he reached inside and
turned on a light then allowed her to go in ahead of him. Adam might have been
quiet, but he had manners. Hope filed that away in the mental file folder she
was creating on him tonight. Every little detail she learned made the picture
of Adam Rouse a little clearer.
And she was liking that picture
more and more.
His apartment consisted of a
big, open area containing the kitchen, dining room, and living room. It had a
high ceiling with exposed rafters of rough-cut Douglas fir. A single hallway
stemmed off this area, leading to what Hope suspected was at least a bathroom
and a bedroom.
Adam’s bedroom
.
Would she be going down there
tonight? God, she hoped so.
“This is nice, Adam.” She waved
her hand over the masculine choices of a dark brown, corduroy couch with
oversized cushions, a walnut coffee table and matching end tables with iron
lamps on them, a huge television in a walnut armoire across the room, and two
brown leather chairs flanking the couch.
“Is it what you expected?”
She wandered to the wall of
windows where a cherry farmer’s table, a bench, and some black ladder-back
chairs filled the dining room. It was too dark to see outside, but the absence
of lights told her it was either woods or a mountain view out there. Maybe
she’d be here during the day some time to see which it was.
“Yes, it suits you.”
“How’s that?”
“It’s dark and mysterious.” She
turned to face him. “Like you.”
“Dark and mysterious?” He shed
his coat and draped it on a stool in his kitchen. Taking a few steps closer
into the living room, he said, “Is that a nice way of saying I’m creepy and
secretive.”
“You’re not creepy.” Hope sat
on the couch, praying Adam would do the same. How long could they keep up the
conversation? How long before it became awkward? How long before one of them
had to make a move?
“But I am secretive?” He
appeared to have a conversation with himself before taking four more steps and
sitting a cushion away from her on the couch.
Progress.
“Yes. You are secretive, but
that’s better than being creepy, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.” He reached
forward and grabbed the television remote. “Do you mind? I like background
noise.”
“I don’t mind.” And she filed
that tidbit away too.
He turned on the television and
clicked to the guide. Hope read through the choices as they scrolled by and at
the same time, they both said, “Yes,
Ghostbusters
.”
“You like
Ghostbusters
?”
he asked, selecting that channel.
Bill Murray and the rest of the
Ghostbusters listened to Sigourney Weaver as she told her tale of eggs cooking
on her countertop and hearing voices from her refrigerator.
“I used to watch this movie
every day after school. Well, either this or
The Karate Kid.
” Hope
scratched her forehead. “I… well, I had a bit of a crush on Ralph Macchio.”
“And everybody loves Mr. Miyagi.”
Adam set the remote back on the coffee table. “It was
Ghostbusters
or
any one of the
Back to the Future
movies for me.”
“Classics. They don’t make
movies like those anymore.”
“Don’t we sound like a couple
of geezers?” He untied his boots and slid them off.
“Only one way to combat
sounding like geezers,” Hope said.
“Design a doghouse?”
Adam looked at her, and
encouraged by the size of his pupils and the way his gaze traveled over her,
Hope moved to the cushion between them. She traced the black wolf and crescent
moon on his T-shirt then slid her hand up to his neck.
“No, not designing a doghouse,”
she said.
Moving slowly so as not to
spook him, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his jaw. The scratchiness of
his short beard instantly made her want to run her teeth over the rest of his
chin, but she restrained herself.
No sudden moves. Don’t be
too aggressive.
Why did she feel like a hunter
stalking an innocent deer?
Foolish.
Adam Rouse was no innocent deer.
When he didn’t try to stop her,
Hope ran her index finger over the bruising near his mouth. “Sorry about this,”
she whispered.
“You didn’t punch me,” he said
in a low voice, looking directly at her.
“I would never punch you.”
“Never say never. I can be a
real jerk, deserving of a punch in the face. Just ask Wendie.”
Hope shook her head. “I would
never punch you,” she repeated softly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Adam.”
“What do you want?” His hand
was on her shoulder now, his fingers gently massaging so she somehow felt his
touch everywhere.
“To pay you back for coming to
my rescue yesterday and for changing my tire today. To say thank you.”
She held his gaze for a moment
then pressed her lips to his, gently so she didn’t reopen the split, but her
need was there. Her need, her hunger, her desire.
Adam’s arms came around her
waist and tugged her onto his lap, which meant he could reach more of her. His
hands slid up under her blouse, his touch hot and possessive. He kept his lips
on hers, nipping in slow, gentle teases that built up Hope’s need even more. His
thighs were rock solid beneath her bottom, and his arousal grew the more they
kissed.
Her center was on fire, molten
hot with craving. It had been far too long since a man had touched her like
this and too long since she’d touched a man. But this wasn’t just any man. It
was Adam, and that energy Jake had mentioned was at full power right now,
waiting to be released.
“Adam,” she said as she ran her
hands over his buzz cut, loving the softness of the short hairs on her palm.
“Hmm…” He’d moved his hands to
tangle his fingers in her long hair, tethering her to him.
“I want you.”
As soon as the words left her
lips, Adam was kissing her again and standing with her in his strong arms. He
stepped over the coffee table and headed for that hallway.
The hallway that better lead to
his bedroom.
****
Don’t take her to the
bedroom. Do not take her to the bedroom.
Adam kicked open the door to
his bedroom, completely ignoring the annoying voice in his head. Leaving only
the light on in the hallway, he stood over his bed and let Hope slide down the
length of him until she was kneeling in front of him. Jesus Christ, the woman
could slide. Her body rubbed all the right places, and he felt himself coming
apart at the seams. He leaned down and captured her amazing lips again with his
own, tasting her sweet flavor, getting drunk on it.
She grabbed a fistful of his
T-shirt and tugged until they were both lying on the bed. He covered her like a
blanket and loved how she fit below him, snug and warm and soft.
What am I doing?
He had no fucking clue, but
that wasn’t stopping him. No way. This felt too good, too right, and it’d been
too long.
He sat up and made quick work
of unbuttoning Hope’s shirt. The delicate material swished in his hands and
whispered as he pushed it off her shoulders. Leaning forward, he trailed light
kisses along her exposed arm up to her shoulder and into the curve of her neck.
When her body quivered beneath him, he almost blew his load. Knowing his simple
touch could affect her like that made him feel… powerful. In control. He’d
forgotten what that felt like.
Hope grabbed the end of his
T-shirt and peeled that, along with his undershirt, off in one swift pull. Her
finger tips glided over his abs and the muscles involuntarily tightened at the
tickle.
“There’s not much light to see,
but my fingers approve,” she said half to herself. “Workout much?”
Enough light spilled into the
room from the hallway that he could see her deep brown gaze travel over his
chest, igniting a fuse inside him. The smile that grew on her lips delighted
him more than it should.
“I’ve got a gym next door.” He
pointed to the wall beside the bed.
“That explains it.” She licked
her lips as if she were viewing an ice cream sundae—one she wanted to eat in
one big bite.
He dove back into kissing her
until he couldn’t remember his name and wasn’t at all worried about it. Hope
was a woman who could make a man forget his troubles. A woman who could give a
guy a fresh start. A woman who could change someone’s world one kiss at a time.
He wanted that chance with her. He wanted to be the man to experience her
magic. The magic she was willing to give him. Right here. Right now.
Backing up slightly, he
unzipped Hope’s jeans and scraped his fingers along her waist and thighs,
taking the denim and a pair of lacey black underwear with him.
She let out a shuddery breath
and closed her eyes, her back arching toward him. Her waist was slender and
smooth and perfect. Surely, a creature such as the one that rested beneath him
now was not of this world—this place full of imperfection, injustice, pain. No,
Hope was the complete opposite of all that. She was pure. She was salvation.
She was too good for him.
He paused. How could someone
who had done the things he’d done, seen the things he’d seen in Afghanistan, be
worthy of what Hope was offering? To take anything from her would be a debt he
could never repay. He had blood on his hands and gaping holes in his soul. How
could he ever be what she needed?
He just wasn’t enough.
“Adam?” She’d risen to her
elbows, her hair tousled in sexy, golden waves. Touchable, so touchable, yet
out of his reach if he were honest.
“Hope, we shouldn’t—”
Her fingers came up to rest
against his lips. “No, Adam. We
should
. Doesn’t this feel right to you?”
“It feels
too
right.” He
rolled off her and rested on his back next to her, keeping his left arm close
to his ribs.
“I think we owe it to ourselves
to see what this could be.” She got to her knees and pulled off her black tank
top and bra.