When Wishes Collide (13 page)

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Authors: Barbara Freethy

BOOK: When Wishes Collide
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"Your parents certainly love you, but they're prejudiced." She paused for a moment, knowing that his serious eyes demanded a more serious answer. "I think I knew you were a good guy when our coins hit each other, and you tried to help me find my quarter."

"Really? So we could have skipped this dinner?"

She laughed. "I don't think
you
could have skipped it. They're really happy you came. They're probably less excited that we're hiding up here."

"You know that I'm not hiding you, right?"

"Oh, I know that. You're the one who's hiding. It's hard for you to be the center of attention. You're used to being the protector, the one looking out for everyone else. You don’t know how to handle being the one who's in trouble."

"You're very perceptive, Adrianna."

"I'm used to studying people. I was a spectator of life for a very long time."

"I hope that doesn't continue. You don’t want to miss out on the actual living part."

"I'm trying to get back there. I don't think you need to worry about your family. They'll be there to support you no matter what. And they understand that you can only give them what you can give right now. You're doing the best you can. No one can ask for more. So, do you still swim?"

He cleared his throat at the abrupt switch in subjects. "I usually hit the six a.m. workout at the local pool. What about you?"

"Never was a swimmer. My mom was too sick to teach me, and there weren't really any pools around. I can flap my arms around so I don't drown, but I don't get too far."

"I could teach you."

"Like you have time to do that."

"Well, not right now."

"I am impressed that you get a workout in so early in the morning. I'm not an early riser, but then I usually work late at the restaurant – or I used to," she amended.

"You will again. And my dedication to swimming is borne out of the desire not to succumb to the enormous stress I'm under. Swimming laps brings a sense of calm into my life. I need it to stay sane."

"Two years is a long time," she murmured, wondering again how he could hold it together for so long. "How do you not give up?"

He pulled Stephanie's picture out of his wallet and held it up. "I look at this face every day."

Her heart tore a little at the pain in his eyes. "I can't wait to meet her."

"I can't wait for you to meet her."

They exchanged a long, poignant look.

"One thing I don't understand," she said. "From everything you told me about Jennifer, it doesn't seem like she wanted to be a mother. Why did she take Stephanie? Why didn't she just take her freedom and go? It seems like that's what she wanted all along."

"I've asked myself that a million times. It had to be payback. Revenge. Most parental abductions have nothing to do with the child and everything to do with the spouse."

"She hated you that much?"

"She thought I was the one who got her arrested. I actually didn't know that she was driving under the influence at the time. But I was the one who forced her into rehab. I became her enemy."

"But all this time she's had to be a mother to your daughter. Did she decide after losing Stephanie that she wanted her after all?"

He considered her words for a moment. "That could be part of it. She always wanted things she couldn't have. What gets me through the night is the hope that she did discover a maternal instinct, that she loves Stephanie, and that she's taking care of her. I can't think about it any other way."

"Well, she took Stephanie and left everyone else in her life behind, that has to be love."

"Twisted love," he said bitterly. He put his empty plate aside. "Are you finished? Let's get out of this room. It's depressing."

"I think it's cute," she said. "I always wanted my own room. I didn't get one until I was twenty-three years old."

"Not even when you were living with your mom?"

"Nope. We shared a room. We were broke all the time, Wyatt. And once she died, I had to carry everything I had with me. If I put it down, it would be gone. So I hung on tight to the few tings I could keep."

"You have a nice apartment now."

"It's small, but it's home, and I love it."

He smiled. "You pulled yourself up by the bootstraps."

"Never wore boots. I don't find them at all comfortable."

"You know what I mean. You're impressive. But I have something else that's impressive to show you."

"Lead the way."

Chapter Eight
 
 

Wyatt took Adrianna down the hall and up a set of narrow, twisting stairs. He pushed open the door at the top and helped her out onto a flat portion of the roof. She'd told him that as a child she'd felt very small surrounded by skyscrapers and steep hills. He wanted to give her a different perspective on the city.

As she stepped out, she drew in a quick breath of startled surprise. "Oh, wow," she said, moving across the deck to stand at the rail. "What an incredible view."

It was an amazing view. From their spot high up in the Berkeley hills, they could not only see the city of Berkeley but the lights of San Francisco and two spectacular bridges, the Bay Bridge and the Golden Gate. It was a clear night, plenty of stars in the sky, and an almost full moon.

"The city is so pretty from here," Adriana murmured.

He moved next to her, his shoulder brushing hers. "I thought you might like to see it from up high."

"It's a much better view than the one I get from apartment."

"This is my favorite spot in the house. Whenever I was frustrated or pissed off or just wanting to grow up already, I used to come out here. The city called to me. I knew one day it would be my home."

"I like San Francisco," she said. "But it was more my home by default than anything else. I focused on working my way up in the city, never considering that I might go somewhere else."

"Why should you? The city has everything."

"It does," she said with a little sigh.

He gave her a shoulder a nudge. "What are you thinking?"

She turned to face him. "That I wish I'd had somebody to show me this view when I was a little girl. I imagined it, but I was so overwhelmed by my small place in the world, that I couldn't quite see the big picture. I just had to focus on what was right in front of me."

"That's not a bad way to go," he said. "Sometimes you can get distracted by all the choices."

She nodded. "Thanks for bringing me up here."

As he gazed into her eyes, he was struck by how pretty she looked in the moonlight, her hair clouding around her face, the sparkle in her expressive brown eyes, her soft, sweet lips. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he heard her quick intake of breath. When he raised his eyes to hers, he saw the gleam and uncertainty of desire.

This time, he was the one who had to search for breath. His chest felt tight. His heart started pounding against his chest, and he felt an irresistible pull that sent his arms around her waist and his mouth down on hers.

She tasted like chili and hot peppers, or maybe that was just the heat running through his body. His demanding kiss parted her lips, and he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, so he could taste more of her. The sweet moist cavern of her mouth made him think of all the other places on her body that he wanted to taste, to touch. He'd been holding desire back, but now it was flooding past his defenses, and he couldn't stop the need that ran through him.

A need she must have felt, too, because she was kissing him back, running her hands around his back, her fingers seeking the skin beneath his shirt. He wanted to strip off his shirt and hers, too. He wanted to drag his mouth down the side of her jaw, to the curve of her neck, the valley of her breasts. He wanted to lay her down on the hard cold stone of the deck and warm her from the inside out.

"Stop, wait," Adrianna said, pulling back. "I – I don't think this is a good idea."

He couldn't think at all.

She slipped out of his arms, smoothing down her clothes, putting a hand to her hair, fingers to her lips. And all he could do was stare at her.

Reason came back slowly.

She turned away from him and looked out at the view.

He drew in a breath, and then another. Finally, he said. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want an apology," she said, casting him a quick look.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing. I just … we can't do this. It's not the right time."

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I know. I wasn’t thinking."

"Neither was I."

A moment or two passed in cooling silence.

"We should go back inside," Adrianna said.

He caught her arm as she moved past him. "Adrianna –"

"Don't say anything. It was just a moment. I got caught up in the view, and I think the punch had something to do with it."

She could blame the view and the punch, but he knew that his reasons for kissing her had nothing to do with those factors. He was attracted to her, and he liked her – probably too much. And for a short time, he'd let himself forget that the only reason they were together was to find Stephanie.

"Are you still going to help me tonight?" he asked sharply.

Her gaze met his. "Yes. I'll go to Vincenzo's. I'll wait in the alley with you. And we'll see what happens."

 

* * *

 

Adrianna's pulse was still racing when she left the roof and went downstairs, acutely aware of Wyatt following close behind her. She must have been out of her mind to kiss him, and not just a brief, innocent kiss, but a carnal lover type kiss. She drew in a shaky breath.

What the hell had she been thinking
?

He wasn't the right man. This wasn't the right place or the right time.

Part of her wanted to run home and hide in her apartment the way she'd been doing the past two months, but she'd made him a promise, and she always kept her promises. Plus, she wouldn't want him to think that a kiss could send her back into hiding. A really, really good kiss.

What the hell had he been thinking
?

But figuring out Wyatt's motivation was a little too much for her, so instead she concentrated on saying good-bye to his friends and family. It took them almost thirty minutes to get out of the house. By the time they got into the car, she'd been invited to Summer's wedding the next month. All efforts to say anything but yes were rebuffed, so she'd eventually given up, figuring she could always bow out later.

Wyatt didn't say anything until they had been in the car for fifteen minutes and were about to get on the Bay Bridge. Once they passed the toll booth, he seemed to relax.

"That wasn't so bad," he muttered.
 

"Are you talking to me or to yourself?" she asked.

"Maybe both of us."

She didn't know how to respond to that cryptic comment and was relieved when they passed across Treasure Island, and he pointed to the lights of the stadium up ahead.

"Looks like there's a Giants game tonight," he said.

"Are you a fan?"

"Oh, yeah. My dad tried to get me into the Oakland A's, but I was always a Giants fan. What about you?"

"I've been to a few games," she said, happy to be talking about baseball. She'd been afraid he would bring up their kiss again, and she really didn't want to go there. "My friend, Lindsay, had a crush on one of the players once, so we spent some time at the park and in the parking lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of the guy walking to his car," she added. "It was really stupid. I felt like a groupie."

"You don't seem like someone who would be impressed by a ballplayer."

"They can be kind of hot," she said.

"Did your friend ever meet her crush?"

"Not at the park, but he came into Vincenzo's one night with a couple of his friends. He was a jerk. Lindsay got over her love fast, and we had a celebration when he got traded to San Diego." She paused as he took the first exit off the bridge. "It's only nine-thirty. I think we should wait until at least eleven before we go to Vincenzo's. The kids wouldn't show up until the evening rush was over."

"All right. Do you mind if we stop by my place? I want to grab a coat. It's not too far from here."

"Sure, I guess. Maybe I should change, too."

"We'll hit my place first, then yours."

 

* * *

 

Wyatt's place was a two-bedroom townhouse not far from the ballpark. As she lingered in the living room, Wyatt disappeared down the hall. She took the opportunity to look around a little.

His apartment was more spacious and less cluttered than hers. The furniture was all brown leather and dark wood. She saw no feminine touch in the decorations. She wondered if he'd thrown out all of Jennifer's things. Moving into the kitchen, she noted the empty counters and the very clean appliances. She doubted Wyatt put his stove and oven through much of a workout. She opened the pantry door and found six boxes of cereal and not much else.

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