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Authors: Noelle Adams

Bittersweet (15 page)

BOOK: Bittersweet
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Since
he seemed to be relaxing more, she squeezed out more muscle rub and renewed her
massage. His shoulders were broad and powerful. His back tapered gracefully.
His sweat pants were riding low on his lean hips. And, despite his prostrate
position, he still exuded masculinity. He could feel it in the muscles of his
back, the shape of his shoulder blades and the ridges of his spine as she
rubbed him with firm strokes.

He
hadn’t moved, not an inch, but she could see that his eyes were closed now.

“Is
it helping at all?” she asked, her voice more unsteady than she expected. For
some reason, she felt jittery and tense.

This
was such an unfamiliar situation, and it felt intimate in a way she’d never
been with Adam.

“Yes.
Thank you.”

The
thick texture of his voice increased the jittery feeling. Part of her wanted to
stop, but part of her didn’t. At all.

Her
hands tingled from the muscle rub, and her blood started to pound inexplicably
as Adam’s breathing grew uneven and hoarse. She tried to massage the length of
his back, focusing some on his shoulders even though they weren’t the part in
pain. He’d been tense everywhere, but he seemed to be releasing some of that
tension now.

After
a few minutes, she squeezed out one more palm of ointment and rubbed it on his
lower back, since that was the part that was giving him the most pain. Her
fingers brushed his bare waist, and she could see the line of his ass beneath
the cotton of his pants. She massaged him as best she could, and she heard Adam
let out a long, low sound of response. Almost a moan.

Zoe’s
intimate muscles clenched at the thick sound, and she suddenly realized the
nature of her reaction.

She
was aroused—by the intimacy of the act, by the beautiful physicality of Adam’s
body, and by his visceral response to her touch.

Barely
managing not to jerk away, she slowly removed her hands from his body. She was
shaking a little bit, the pressure of her arousal deep and pulsing between her
legs.

What
the hell was wrong with her? Talk about inappropriate responses. Poor Adam was
suffering, and she was lusting after his helpless body.

“Did
that help?” she asked, her voice a little stretched but otherwise mostly
natural.

Adam
didn’t answer immediately. His eyes were closed and his body was motionless.
Then he rasped, “Yes. Thank you.”

“I’ll
let you rest a little,” she said, capping the muscle rub and gently laying it
on the nightstand. “I’m going to check on Logan.”

She
didn’t immediately go to check on Logan. She found a hallway bathroom and
locked the door, staring at herself in the mirror above the sink. She was
panting, her cheeks were flushed, and something wild was evident in her eyes.

She
was so aroused her body ached with it.

Maybe
it was natural. She hadn’t had sex in a really long time, and Adam was an
attractive man. The situation just now was more intimate than any situation
they’d been in together before. Not sexual, but intimate. Zoe’s body had just
crossed some wires.

Maybe
it was natural, but it couldn’t be indulged.

She’d
have to be careful about touching Adam again. She couldn't feel this way about
him anymore.

Nine

 

Zoe stared
around at the large, airy living room with something like awe.

The
hardwood floors were a dark walnut, the old-fashioned windows were huge and
sunny, and gorgeous, original molding lined the walls and the large fireplace.
The room was nicely staged with simple, elegant furniture, art, and rugs.

As
she gazed around, Zoe felt an ache in her chest. She wanted it. She
wanted
it. The depth of her longing disoriented her. Almost frightened her.

Hiding
her reaction, she said, “It’s beautiful.”

She
smiled over her shoulder at Adam, who stood behind her, holding Logan, who had
demanded “Up!” as soon as they’d gotten out of the car.

“The
owners lived here for more than fifty years until the husband died a couple of
months ago,” Adam said, coming to stand beside her and looking oddly
incongruous in his dark business suit with Logan on his hip. “They did a great
job preserving the historic features but not so much that it feels like a
museum. They made excellent choices in upgrades.”

Just
from the sight of the entry hall and main living area, Zoe was well-prepared to
believe that assessment. She walked over to one of the windows and looked out.
It faced a park rather than a row of buildings, which was an incredible feature
in an urban townhouse.

She
then walked over to admire the intricate carving of the fireplace mantle.
Running her figures over the wood, she murmured, “It’s just lovely.”

“The
mantle is original, as are the baseboards and crown molding. They managed to
preserve it even when they opened up this room. It used to be divided into
three separate rooms.” Adam’s tone was business-like, but he watched her face
carefully, probably trying to gauge her reaction.

For
the last two months, she’d been looking around at houses, trying to find a new
place to live. She loved the loft, but it was very impractical—having only one
bedroom. Pretty soon, Logan would need his own room. He was only fifteen months
now, but it was already starting to feel a little awkward for him to be
sleeping in the same room with her.

Adam,
of course, had offered to help with the house hunt. Through one of his
contacts, he’d discovered this townhouse. It wasn’t even officially on the
market yet, since one of the bathrooms was still being renovated. It was north
of downtown, but still in the city. The location wasn’t as convenient as her
loft, but the neighborhood was safe and pleasant, and it wasn't that far for
her to get downtown for work.

“The
dining room is through here,” Adam said, breaking into her reflections. He
walked toward the double doors across from the fireplace, still carrying Logan,
who was now tugging on his tie.

“Don’t
strangle Uncle Adam, Logan,” Zoe said, following them.

Logan
grinned and gave the tie a firm yank. “Lala tie!”

Adam
gently removed the little hand. “Yes, it’s my tie, but I can’t breathe if you
pull on it like that.”

Logan
reached for the tie again, evidently pleased with this new game. “Tie!”

Adam
lowered the boy to the floor.

“Up!”
Logan demanded, frowning in indignation at such an abrupt end to his fun and
stretching his arms up toward Adam.

With
a shake of his head, Adam said, “If I carry you too long, I’ll be crippled
under your weight.”

Zoe
chuckled at the dry tone and said to Logan, “You’re a big boy now and don’t
need to be carried everywhere. Why don’t you walk next to Uncle Adam?”

Logan
grabbed a fistful of Adam’s pants. “Cla Lala.” He was capable of saying “Adam”
now and could repeat it when prompted, but he didn’t seem to associate the word
with his uncle.

As
far as Logan was concerned, Adam's proper name was "Lala."

They’d
entered the formal dining room, painted a deep gold with gorgeous wainscoting.
It could easily fit a long dining table—far larger than Zoe would ever need.

Her
family was small. Just Logan and her mother.

And
Adam.

She
would never need this huge space for family dinners or holiday celebrations.

She
loved it though, and she gasped as she looked up to the ceiling. Above the
chandelier, the ceiling was painted with images that looked like bright heaven
breaking out through the night sky.

“The
mural was done in 1883,” Adam said, following her gaze to the ceiling. “It's
nicely done, although nothing significant in the way of art. But they did a
great job preserving it.”

Zoe
stared up, feeling that ache of longing in her chest again. It seemed
absolutely unreal that all of this could belong to her.

They
moved from the dining room into the kitchen, which was nicely updated while
still keeping the period character of the home.  Then they went upstairs to see
two decent-sized bedrooms. And finally Adam led them into the master suite.

“Oh,
wow,” Zoe breathed, looking around the sunny room which was about the same size
as her current bedroom. In addition to the walk-in closet, there was also the
master bathroom with a steam shower, a claw-foot tub, and two vanities.

“They
turned two bedrooms into this master suite,” Adam explained, standing beside
her in the bathroom.

She
felt him watching her, and for some reason it made her self-conscious, so she
smiled at him vaguely and went back into the bedroom.

“So
what do you think?” Adam asked, following her out.

“It’s
amazing,” she admitted, glancing over to see Logan playing with a drawer pull
on the dresser.

“You
should move quickly if you’re interested. Once this goes on the market, I
wouldn’t be surprised if there are offers above the asking price.”

“It’s
more than I wanted to spend,” Zoe said slowly, “I couldn’t buy this for what I
get from selling the loft.”

“I
know that’s what you were hoping to do. But you could certainly afford this, if
you want it.”

She
did want it. She wanted it so badly she could taste it. But her heart pounded
strangely, and the ache in her chest had dropped to her belly.

If
she bought this, she would have to sell the loft. She would have to leave all
of those memories of her life with Josh and start over without him.

She
glanced down at the wedding rings she still wore.

“I
don’t know,” she said, her voice oddly hoarse. With a sigh, she stared across
the room at the accent wall behind the headboard, covered with what must be
incredibly expensive ivory damask wallpaper. “What do you think?” she asked,
turning to Adam.

“It
doesn’t matter what I think.”

“I
want to know. What do you think?”

“It’s
a beautiful house in a great location. It would be a fantastic investment.”

Zoe
frowned, studying his face, which revealed nothing at the moment. “Do you think
I should buy it?”

There
was a long pause, and he glanced away from her as he reflected. Finally, he
murmured, “Yes. I think it would be a great place for you and Logan. I think
you both would really like it.”

“Do
you
like it?”

His
dark eyes met hers again, and there was an oddly intense expression in them—one
she couldn’t quite understand. “Yes. I do. I love it.”

After
a long moment, during which they stared at each other, Zoe jerked her eyes
away, feeling rattled and a little breathless.

She
looked around the bedroom again and tried to imagine moving in here with Josh.
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t even picture her husband in this room. It
didn’t seem like him at all.

“Do
you think Josh would have liked it?”

When
Adam didn’t answer immediately, she turned back toward him. Something had
changed in his stance. “I don’t know.”

“I
don’t know if he would have liked this place.”

“He
probably wouldn’t, but this place is for you and Logan. And
you
like
it.” His voice was mild again, but his expression was still tight, reined in—as
if he were holding something back.

“Yeah.
I know. It’s just…”

There
was silence for a minute after she trailed off. Then Adam asked thickly, “It’s
just what?”

Zoe’s
eyes darted back to his face. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it, but she
knew him really well. And, to her, the tension in his body and the absolute
composure of his expression seemed to mask something that was hurt inside him.

She
walked over without thinking and lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “Adam,” she
whispered, “are you all right?”

He
closed his eyes. For just a moment, he seemed to lean his face into her palm.
But then he drew back. “I’m fine. I know it’s hard for you to make a step like
this without Josh. I can understand. But I hope you’ll do what’s best for you
and Logan. And I really don’t see how you two can stay in the loft apartment
for much longer.”

“We
can’t.” Zoe dropped her hand and felt irrationally disappointed that Adam had
withdrawn—emotionally and physically—the way he had, even as she was relieved
that the weird moment was over.  “But it’s such a big decision that I’d like to
think about it a little more.”

“Of
course. But, if you want this place, we should put an offer on it tomorrow.”

Zoe
nodded, her chest aching and her mind a confused blur of longing, grief, and
excitement.

“Logan,”
Adam said, his tone changing as he strode over to where the boy had pulled out
a drawer of the dresser whose knobs he’d been playing with. “That’s not ours to
play with.”

Logan
made a whining noise at being admonished by his usually generous uncle, and he
gave the drawer another tug.

BOOK: Bittersweet
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