Five Minute Man: A Contemporary Love Story (12 page)

“It really doesn’t bother you?” she asked softly, running her hand over his hair in a comforting gesture.

He kissed his way back up to her face. “Having a beautiful, smart, sexy, creative, successful woman as my own? No, Holly, it doesn’t bother me. It makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world.” In case she needed more convincing, he lowered his mouth to hers, expressing himself with a searing, lingering kiss.

“What about you?” he asked. “Can you be happy with a humble contractor?”

“Oh yes,” she whispered, her words filled with genuine awe and wonderment as she guided him into her again. “You’re my Five Minute Man...”

***

A
dam groaned, offering a silent prayer of thanks to Liz. “You want to convince Holly she’s the one?” she’d said to him. “Be her Five Minute Man. Prove it to her.”

He’d had his doubts. After all, Holly wrote romances. Shouldn’t he be buying roses and taking her out to candlelight dinners, he’d asked? Liz had snorted at that, telling him with unwavering confidence that all that stuff would mean nothing unless Holly believed it was
real
, and there was only one way to do that.

It looked like Liz had hit the nail on the head with that one.

“Yes I am,” he agreed, flipping them so that she was on top of him again. “And you are my Five Minute Woman.”

She purred at that, curling her nails lightly into his chest as she made slow circles with her hips. “Always. But now I think I want a lot more than five minutes...”

“H
ello, Adam.” Adam cringed as he heard Eve’s sex-kitten purr clearly through his mobile. Having just left Holly’s after a long weekend of sheer bliss, he hadn’t been thinking clearly or he would have checked the caller-id before answering.

“What do you want, Eve?”

“Is that any way to talk to your lover?”

“We are not lovers, Eve,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I beg to differ,” she laughed softly, undeterred.

She could beg all she wanted. Adam was done. Had been for long time. “We had sex, Eve. It was one night. Don’t make it out to be anything more than that.”

“Keep telling yourself that, baby, but I know better. You and I, we’re meant to be. You will accept it eventually.”

“I’m hanging up now, Eve.”

“Okay,” she said in a sing-song voice, far too easily. “But if you do, you might lose your chance to get a bid in on that old gamekeeper’s cottage you were so interested in.”

Adam’s thumb paused over the “End Call” button. “What the hell are you talking about, Eve? The cottage was sold months ago.”
To Holly.

“What if I told you that the Historical Society is trying to buy back the property?”

“Won’t happen,” he said without thinking. “I know the owner, and she’s not interested in selling.”

There was a long pause, long enough for him to realize his mistake. “She, huh? So that’s who has captured your attention,” she mused. “I should have known. Is she the one you have been
doing business
with lately, Adam?”

Fuck!
He needed to get his head out of his pants and start thinking with his brain again. If Eve thought for a minute that Adam was interested in anyone besides her, she would make Holly’s life a living hell. Things were too new, too fresh with Holly to subject her to that kind of test yet. He had to make Eve believe that Holly was not a threat, at least until he could figure out a more permanent solution.

“We’ve met,” he admitted, carefully choosing his next words. “She was interested in a professional opinion.”

“That’s all?” Eve asked doubtfully. In his mind’s eye, he could picture Eve’s eyes narrowing, brows drawing together, gauging his sincerity. At that moment, he was intensely glad they were not face to face, because after three incredible days with Holly, there was no way he’d be able to school his features enough to make anyone believe Holly was anything less than what she was –
The One
.

Eve didn’t need to know that yet, though. There were very few women that worried Adam, but Eve was one of them. Her behavior over the past six months clearly proved she had a borderline obsessive (and delusional) personality.

“So did she hire you, Adam?” Eve’s voice brought him back to the moment.

“No.” This, at least, he could answer honestly. He’d be working on the cottage all right, but not as hired help. But... this might be a way to get Eve out of attack mode. If he could manage to give Eve the impression that he’d just done a consult and wouldn’t be involved any further, it might buy him enough time to work out a better, permanent solution. “I got the distinct impression that she’d rather do the renovations herself.”

“I was hoping you would say that.”

Rather than the rush of relief he’d been hoping for, a stone the size of Mount Rushmore settled in his stomach. “Why is that?”

“Because the place was part of the original William Penn estate, the Historical Society has a vested interest in ensuring that any and all renovations are performed under strict, historically accurate guidelines. If
you
were doing the renovations, we’d know they were being done properly and have no basis for forcing the sale.”

Double fuck!
Adam closed his eyes, willing himself to remain calm. How did he keep managing to fuck this up? When would he learn not to underestimate Eve? His mind worked frantically; he did not want her anywhere near Holly.

“It is only the Society’s business if the owner petitioned to have the site recognized as a historical landmark. Has such a petition been made?”

God, he hoped not. He was fairly certain Holly had not done so. In the first place, Holly would have mentioned it when she’d given him the grand tour and talked about the research she’d been doing. And in the second, he really couldn’t see her wanting that kind of attention. Historically registered landmarks – even those privately owned – had a tendency to draw interest from history buffs, researchers, and tourists. Holly, like he, liked her privacy.

“Oh, Adam,” Eve laughed softly, her voice carrying a barely concealed warning. “Not everything is done by the book, you know. Sometimes you have to go above and beyond to get what you really want.”

Somehow he knew they were no longer just talking about the cottage. Despite his good intentions, Eve wasn’t convinced. “Eve, you leave –“

She was still laughing when she disconnected the call.

***

“A
dam, is there something you want to tell me?” Holly asked, concern in her eyes as she stroked her hand over his chest. They lay side by side, still coming down from their incredible love-making. Ever since he’d come to pick her up for her “surprise date” – a sunset cruise aboard his personal fishing/cruising boat on the nearby lake – he’d seemed distracted.

“No,” he said far too quickly to be believable. “Why?”

She pressed a kiss to his skin. The lake had been perfect, as had the picnic dinner he’d brought along. The moment they had returned to her place, he’d wasted no time in relieving her of her clothes and making tender, passionate love to her. As wonderful as it had been, something felt off.

“Just a feeling, I guess.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not really very good at this.”

His arm tightened around her as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You are perfect,” he said. “And perceptive. I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Anything I can help with?” she asked, pushing him from his side onto his stomach. He allowed it. She straddled his hips, resting her sex on his perfect man ass, and leaned forward to knead the tight knots around his upper back and shoulders. Damn, but the man had the sexiest back she’d ever seen. Wide at the top, defined from years of construction work, tapering down into lean hips.

“Yeah. Keep doing that,” he groaned into the pillow. “Christ, that feels good.”

She remained quiet for several long minutes, using her hands to leisurely map and memorize this part of him she didn’t get to see nearly often enough. “If you were having second thoughts, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

He shifted beneath her, rolling to his back. “I’m not having second thoughts, Holly.”

“But if you
were
, you’d tell me, right?” God, she hated feeling this needy. As far as relationships went, she was pitiful. A man like Adam would not appreciate a clingy, needy woman, but she just couldn’t help herself. It seemed too good to be true, and she just needed a little validation.

Adam’s hands rested just above her hips, holding her in place. He flexed his hands, squeezing lightly until her eyes met his. “Yes. But I’m not.”

He lifted her as if she weighed nothing. She sighed in both relief and pleasure as he guided her back down onto him, filling more than just that part of her. Words were one thing, but this is what she really needed. There was no mistaking the reassurance this connection brought with it. With Adam, it wasn’t just sex. If it ever began to feel like it was, that’s when she would really start to worry.

For now, she was more than content to push the sense of disquiet far to the back of her mind and trust her heart. And Adam.

H
olly heard the knock at the door. Glancing away from her screen, she looked up at the burnished brass clock on the wall and frowned. It was early afternoon. The only two people for whom she would be willing to interrupt her writing groove – Liz and Adam – would be at work for another couple of hours. The postman had already dropped off the mail for the day, and she wasn’t expecting any packages.

“Ignore it,” she said to Max, who swiveled his gaze between her and the front of the house. Unlike other dogs, he didn’t bark at the door if Holly was around. He always looked to her first.

After a few seconds of silence, she turned her attention back to her computer and re-read the last couple of sentences to continue where she’d left off, right in the middle of a really intense scene when her lead female character saw her love interest shift into a beast for the first time. She’d been on such a roll, she hadn’t even taken a break to pee for the last three hours.

Her fingers had barely touched the keys when the irritating knock came again.

“Go away,” Holly mumbled under her breath. What was it with people? If they knocked and no one answered, it meant that either a) no one was home, or b) no one wanted to open the damn door.

Five minutes passed, and still, the incessant knock continued every minute or so. Whoever it was, they were persistent. And had just taken the express route right to the very top of Holly’s shit list.

Her concentration shattered, Holly got up and went to the door, ready to give whoever it was a much needed lesson in socially acceptable behavior.

Except when Holly opened the door, the words evaporated on her lips. Standing on her front porch was Swedish Barbie, dressed in an expensive looking, ass-hugging skirt and matching jacket. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a perfectly smooth bun with nary a hair out of place; her makeup was so well done her Nordic features appeared airbrushed.

“Holly McTierney?” Barbie asked doubtfully, her gaze raking down and back up in a blatant perusal. Devoid of makeup, wearing one of Adam’s T-shirts and her super comfy pajama pants, Holly knew she didn’t look presentable enough to receive visitors. Especially not ones who looked like they just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Which was one of the many reasons why she hadn’t wanted to open the door in the first place.

“Yes.”

Holly kept her hand on the door, allowing it to open only wide enough for her and Max to check out the one who had so rudely interrupted their afternoon. That didn’t stop Swedish Barbie from looking nosily over Holly’s shoulder into the house – an easy thing to do since she was a good nine or ten inches taller than Holly. “May I come in?”

Holly leaned against the door. “I’m a little busy right now. What do you want?”

Barbie managed what was no doubt intended to be a friendly smile, but her eyes were anything but. Holly wondered if she knew about her and Adam. She’d meant to ask Adam about her – given the exchange she’d inadvertently witnessed at the Y – but it hadn’t come up. They had been too busy doing other, much more pleasurable things, and the few times she had thought about it, she hadn’t wanted to ruin the mood.

“My name is Eve Sanderson. I’m with the Covendale Valley Historical Society.”

Holly blinked but said nothing. She was vaguely familiar with the Society. Shortly after she’d purchased the property, they’d started sending her letters asking for permission to inspect the property and include it as part of their colonial history tours. The thought of strangers poking around her house and busloads of school children traipsing over her lawn had her dismissing the idea pretty quickly.

“Despite repeated attempts to contact you, you have not responded,” Eve continued. “You did receive several letters from us, did you not?”

“I did. And I did respond. Not interested.” She’d only responded to the first letter. Each subsequent one went right into the paper shredder the moment she had ensured all staples had been safely removed.

Eve forced another small smile. “Then you are aware of the rich history of this particular parcel, and the Society’s desire to have it registered as an historical landmark.”

“I am. And the answer is still no.” Holly took a step back and began to close the door. Eve put her hand out to stop it.

“Perhaps you do not understand the significance of -,” Eve began, her voice dripping with barely concealed condescension. “No, I think it is you who does not understand,” Holly said firmly. Her searing gaze went to Eve’s hand. “I will say this one more time for you, very slowly so you can keep up.
I. Am Not. Interested.
”

Expression thunderous, Eve’s eyes narrowed. For a few moments, Holly thought Eve-Barbie might actually attack. Holly kind of hoped she would. While not normally a violent person, there was something immensely appealing about taking Miss High-And-Mighty down a peg or two. It wouldn’t even have to be anything big, really, just enough to let Eve-Barbie know she wasn’t about to be pushed around by some Swedish supermodel wannabe.