Five Minute Man: A Contemporary Love Story (6 page)

“Six is good.”

Holly hung up the phone and did a little happy dance right there in the kitchen. “He’s still coming, Max! And he’s bringing dinner! Chinese food!”

Max’s ears perked up in interest. He knew the words “Chinese food”; the dog loved it almost as much as she did.

W
ell, the cottage looked about as good as it was going to. The floors had been swept and Swiffered, the area rugs beaten and aired out. The wood was polished, shelves dusted. She didn’t have an abundance of furniture, but what she did have was vacuumed and treated to a clean-smelling fabric refresher. Max’s toys had been picked up and deposited in the baskets she had in each room, though he was quietly emptying them every time she wasn’t looking. A vase of fresh flowers – picked from the garden out back – sat on the table, and a subtly scented vanilla candle burned in the kitchen, mixing with the aroma of the lemon cream cake she’d baked that afternoon. It wouldn’t win any featured pages in
House Beautiful
, but it looked neat and cozy, and smelled clean and inviting.

Holly changed her outfit no less than six times before deciding on a pair of comfortable but stylish leggings and an oversized tunic T that was both slimming and managed to give the illusion of being a little taller than her actual diminutive height. It was casual, but a bit nicer than the pajama pants or ancient but oh-so-comfy faded jeans she normally hung around the house in.

With a final spritz of light white musk – her favorite fragrance, she checked her hair one last time. She opted to leave it down, but slightly tamed it with a thin, flexible hair band that she hoped said “I like you, but I’m not trying to impress you”.

Which was total bullshit, of course.

The sound of a truck making its way up her gravel driveway sent a flutter of butterflies through her stomach. Max’s ears perked up and he moved to the big picture window, pushing aside the lacey curtains with his nose to get a better look. He glanced back at Holly questioningly.

“It’s okay,” she confirmed, peeking out from the side. “That’s Adam.”

Accepting this, Max went back to looking out the window. The doorbell rang a few seconds later. Holly closed her eyes and counted to three (she didn’t want to seem too anxious), then wiped her sweaty palms on her leggings and opened the door.

“Hi,” she said, not having to force or fake her smile. Adam looked even better than she remembered. Dressed in jeans and a form-fitting black thermal shirt, it was hard not to stare. His dark hair still looked damp, as if he’d recently taken a shower. The scent of male soap and something decidedly warm and musky hit her, and she inhaled deeply, anxious to fill her lungs with it.

“Hi,” he grinned back. He held two large bags in his hand.

Max pushed between Holly and the doorframe, sniffing at the food.

“Max, don’t be rude,” she chastised lightly. She looked back up at Adam. “Don’t mind him. He loves Chinese.”

***

A
dam grinned and followed her inside. He had every intention of looking around, checking out the house, but he could not seem to tear his gaze from the stunning view of Holly’s backside in front of him. The long shirt covered it, but clung just enough to whet his appetite and be transfixed by the hypnotic sway of her hips.

“Great place,” he said, wishing he’d actually looked.

“I think so. How about we put those in the oven to keep warm and I give you the grand tour before it gets too dark?”

“Sounds good.”
Christ. What smelled so fucking good?
Was that her, or something else? Whatever it was, it was making his mouth water. Since his cock was twitching with interest, too, he concluded that it was probably not just the delicious looking cake on the raised glass display plate.

She took the bags from his hand and placed the containers in the oven, bending over and giving him a perfect view of her ass.
Shit
.
Heart-shaped. Firm. Perfect.
He just barely managed to contain his groan before she was standing up and facing him again.

“This is Max, by the way. Max, this is Adam, the guy I was telling you about.”

Max held up one paw, as if to shake. Amused, Adam went down on one knee and took his paw. “You told him about me?”

“Of course. You wouldn’t have gotten in the door otherwise. He’s a bit protective.”

As if he understood, the dog smiled – actually
smiled
at him, revealing some very big, very sharp fangs. Combined with his eyes - one blue, one brown, both outlined in coal black, giving him a Satanic appearance – he looked capable of doing some serious damage. Thank God he seemed friendly enough.

“Interesting markings.”

“Yeah. It freaks some people out. I was going to call him “Devil Dog”, but he seems to like Max better.”

“Understandable,” Adam said, though he wasn’t sure he understood at all. Then Holly smiled at him and he forgot everything else.

“Well, this is the kitchen. Duh, right?” she said, blushing. “This is about the only thing I’ve been able to fix up a little, but doing it right takes money and time.”

Adam forced his eyes from Holly and took a look around. What had at one time probably been a dining room was now a cozy little breakfast nook with a nice view of the gardens out back. Real, solid wood cabinetry, genuine grain gleaming beneath a polished, satiny finish. “You redo the cabinets?”

“Yeah,” she said proudly. “They had about a hundred coats of varnish on them. Took me a couple of weeks and a dozen cans of Formby’s, but I got them all stripped, sanded and re-stained.”

He turned incredulous eyes her way. “You did this yourself?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah.”

“You did a great job.” Another few checks went into the “pro” column. She obviously had good taste, didn’t shy away from difficult tasks, and wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.

“Thanks ,” she said, clearly pleased by his praise. “The counters and sink I had done professionally, though.”

He nodded. She was intelligent and practical, too. “Smart choice. Laying granite is tricky, and you’re better off having a master plumber working on the pipes. Solid copper, I’m guessing?”

Holly nodded. “The plumber said he hadn’t seen anything like that in ages.”

Holly led him through the small cottage, showing him the living area, the small guest room workout area, and the two upstairs bedrooms and bath. Then they went outside and walked the grounds.

“How big is the lot?” Adam asked, looking around him. It was a beautiful piece of land. About an acre of cleared lawn surrounded the stone cottage, secluded but within a reasonable driving distance from town. There was a nice stone patio right off the back of the kitchen. Flowering trees and shrubs dotted the backyard, along with a few patches of flower gardens. It had a very soothing, pleasant feel; someone knew what they were doing when they planned it out. Like the rest of the place, all it needed was a little TLC to be paradise. His hands were itching already.

“About five acres, give or take. The property includes quite a bit of wooded land. I like it, though. I see all kinds of wildlife – deer, a few fox, lots of bunnies and squirrels. They like to parade in front of the window and tease Max.” She reached down and gave Max a scratch between the ears. “He pretends to be annoyed, but he loves it.”

“He doesn’t chase after them?”

“He does if they’re in the yard, but he never goes beyond the tree line. I found him in the woods when he was just a puppy, and he was in pretty bad shape. I think he’s afraid. You know, leftover trauma or something.”

Christ. She rescued puppies, too?
He was half tempted to check under her shirt for wings. Of course, if the shirt came off, he’d probably forget about the wings and concentrate on her breasts. Not overlarge, but big enough to fill his large palms. Right. Not helping. What were they talking about? Oh yeah. The dog. “You talk about him like he’s a person.”

Holly stopped and looked at him. “He is, kind of, but better than most of the people I’ve met. Present company excluded, of course,” she added with a wry grin. “We understand each other, he and I.”

Adam acknowledged the compliment with a slight inclination of his head, but wondered what kind of people she’d had to deal with. She’d already alluded to strained relationships with her family, but who else? He wanted to ask. He wanted to know everything about her. But behind that quick wit and self-confidence, he saw uncertainty, and was afraid to push too hard.

“So what do you think?” she was saying.

What did he think? He
thought
he wanted to go back in the house and see if she tasted as good as she smelled and felt as soft as she looked. He
thought
he wanted to forget the house and dinner and spend the rest of the night burrowing into her sexy little body before something came along and burst his perfect bubble.

Because she couldn’t possibly be as perfect for him as she seemed. If she was, then she might possibly be the woman he’d been looking for his whole life.

Instead of saying any of those things and running the risk of scaring her away (he was a bit scared himself), he said, “I think this place is wonderful. With a little bit of effort, it could be perfect. You made a good choice, Holly.”

Her smile set off a series of fireworks in his chest. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and kiss the daylights out of her right then and there. It was a feeling he was becoming all too accustomed to. That particular urge seemed to hit every time he was in her presence.

“Is that your professional opinion?” she asked, fluttering those thick lashes over those pretty green eyes. It was so natural, she probably wasn’t even aware that she was doing so.

“Yeah.” His personal one, too.

“I’m sure you have some really good ideas on how to fix it up, though.”

Shit, yeah, he did. And all of them involved him, working closely with her, doing things together. He could just picture her in a pair of old jeans, wearing one of his big flannel shirts, hair pulled back in a ponytail, covered in dust and smiling at him as they restored this place together. They’d take lots of breaks, properly christen each room...

He shrugged. “A couple. I’m sure you have a few of your own. You’ve done great so far.”

Another smile, this one setting off more fireworks in his chest
and
his groin.
Christ
. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this hard and hot for a woman.

“How about we talk about them over dinner? Are you hungry?”

Starving
. “Yeah, I could eat.”

“I
really enjoyed your company tonight, Holly,” Adam said several hours later. They’d eaten the Chinese he’d brought, talked over ideas and possibilities for a quality redo. Then she’d made coffee and they’d shared some kind of lemony dessert that had literally melted in this mouth. They’d talked, they’d laughed.

Like the other night at the coffee shop, time flew by. It seemed like only minutes ago he’d pulled into her driveway, filled with both anticipation and doubt. Now there was no doubt, just an unwillingness to get his ass back in the truck. Now they stood on her front porch like two awkward teens; he knew he had to leave, but he was stalling, because leaving was the very last thing he wanted to do.

“Me, too,” she said. “I mean, I enjoyed your company.” She gave him a self-conscious smile that damn near curled his toes.

“Can I see you again, Holly?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.” She shifted her weight slightly. Adam may have been sitting on the sidelines for a while, but he’d been part of the game long enough to know that she was wondering if he was going to try to kiss her goodnight. He was pretty sure she wanted him to, too. Almost as sure as the fact that he wanted nothing more than to do just that – and a whole lot more.

If she’d been anybody else, he would have, without question. He’d pull her into his arms, kiss her until she couldn’t see straight from it, then coax her back into the house and take care of both of them. But as much as his cock ached for him to do just that, he held back, primarily because he had never wanted a woman so badly before and it left him a bit shaken.

“I’ll call you.”

“Sounds good.”

He reached down and petted Max. “Good night, Max,” he said. “Take care of Holly. Keep her safe.”

Max looked up at him with those freaky devil eyes and woofed softly. Goddamn if the dog really didn’t understand what he’d said.

“Goodnight, Holly.”

“Goodnight, Adam.”

Turning around and walking away from her was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. When he got in his truck and drove away, he saw her watching him in the rearview mirror. She was still standing on the porch, one hand petting Max beside her. Light spilled over from inside, surrounding her in a glowing nimbus, and all he could think about was how much she looked like an angel.

***

H
olly watched Adam’s tail lights fade from view. He didn’t even try to kiss her!

She closed the door and locked it behind her. What did that mean? He’d looked like he
wanted
to kiss her. In fact, for a few minutes there, he looked like he wanted to toss her over the back of the sofa and have his wicked way with her, though that may have been purely wishful thinking on her part. He hadn’t kissed her
or
tossed her over the sofa. He hadn’t done
anything
.

Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Had she sent out a bad vibe? Or was he just being a gentleman?

That was the trouble with being a writer; her imagination put in a lot of overtime. There were so many possibilities, and she spent so much time on her stories that sometimes she wasn’t sure what her mind had conjured and what was real, at least when it came to trying to decipher a real, flesh-and-blood man’s signals.

If this night had been a scene from one of her books, Adam’s behavior could have meant several things. Scenario A (the most likely): Adam was mildly interested, but after learning more about all of her baggage decided a brief affair wasn’t worth the trouble, though she’d sparked his professional interest.