Seduce Me Sweetly (Heron's Landing Book 1) (6 page)

“Adam!” a voice called, and he turned to see Joy McGuire walking up to him. She wore a loose t-shirt above very short shorts, her legs lithe and milky white in the light of the store. She had little makeup on, and Adam found himself even more intrigued by her as a result. He liked her tendency toward color, but seeing her more subdued in this way made him feel like he was seeing a Joy not too many people got to see. A relaxed Joy, he thought.

“Miss McGuire,” he said in reply.

She wrinkled her nose, her hands on her hips. “Are you seriously still going to call me that? You can call me Joy, you know. You won’t explode if you do.”

He knew that. But saying her name out loud was an intimacy he didn’t want to cross. “Miss McGuire” was a woman who’d just moved into town who he’d met only a few times. “Joy” was a woman he’d looked at with desire in his eyes and who he wanted to toss over his shoulder and take home with him.

So, “Miss McGuire” it was.

He noticed powdered donuts in her hand, plus a large bottle of Coke. “Is that your dinner?”

She glanced at the food, and then laughed. “Yeah, kind of. I’m too lazy to make anything right now. And for some reason I just needed some sugar. Don’t tell anyone, though, okay? I’m supposed to be a sophisticated city girl who only eats organic kale and freshly squeezed carrot juice.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said seriously. And at her look of surprise, he shifted in embarrassment, especially as silence stretched between them.

Why couldn’t he talk to this woman? He wasn’t some ladies’ man like Jaime, but he could generally make conversation without spontaneously combusting. He’d talked to Carolyn enough that she’d married him, right? His heart contracted, remembering his dead wife, who wouldn’t be waiting for him when he came home. Wouldn’t smile at him as he got into bed and then turn to him with a laugh as he gathered her into his arms. Instead, he was talking to this woman, who was the antithesis of Carolyn, trying to say something…what? Flirtatious?

Disgusted with himself, he said something like a goodbye before paying for his things and leaving. And then he was disgusted with himself for an entirely new reason at the memory of the look on Joy’s face, which had been one of hurt and surprise. Could he do nothing but offend this woman? He wasn’t trying to be a jackass, but that seemed to be his modus operandi with her as of late.

About to get into his car, the evening sky now turned to purple twilight, Adam heard steps coming up to his car.

“So I gotta ask: did I do something to offend you? Or are you always this nice to new people in this town?” Joy had her hands on her hips, her head cocked to the side, and she looked so much like an inquisitive bird that he half expected feathers to sprout from her arms.

He struggled for an answer. Should he just say yes and drive off? But looking at her, he couldn’t leave it at that. “No, I’m not,” he said finally.

“No, you are always this nice? Or you aren’t always this nice?”

Her words twisted around his brain. What was it about this woman that tied him up in knots? “No, I’m generally…nice.”

“Oh, well,” she replied as she crossed her arms. “I’m glad I’m special then.”

Her defensive posture—no longer the curious bird—caused his chest to squeeze. Without thinking, he touched her arm, leaving his hand there for a moment. She gazed up at him, her mouth slightly agape.

“I don’t know why we keep getting off on the wrong foot,” he said slowly. “But as Grace likes to remind me, it’s mostly my fault.”

He hadn’t removed his hand, and he had the sudden thought that he didn’t want to. That was when she uncrossed her arms, and they moved down to her sides, as if they had a will of their own. His fingers brushed at the skin where her t-shirt ended.

“Did you use the aloe vera?” he asked gruffly.

She stared at him. Stared at his fingers on her arm. “Yes,” she said softly. “Thank you. It really helped. The burn’s almost gone already.”

He couldn’t see the color of her skin in the darkening twilight, but he could feel its heat underneath his fingertips. And he could smell her—roses, he thought—and with the fireflies blinking around them, it seemed as if they had been transported to an entirely new world. But he knew this wasn’t a new world, and he took his hand away with a reluctance that shocked him.

“I’m glad. You should be more careful about getting sunburned,” he said finally.

Her face transformed then into a bright smile, and she laughed. “You’d think I would’ve figured that out by now, but I guess not. But I stocked up—just for you.”

At those words—“just for you”—Adam’s heart stopped, and he felt as if this moment could go on for a lifetime. Just them two, alone, standing in front of each other. Gazing at each other and memorizing the other’s faces, like doing otherwise were impossible. And that was when he bent down, wanting to press his lips to her to see if she tasted of roses, too, and then the jingle of the front door bell sounded, and they jumped away from each other.

“I’m closing up, Joy!” Mike called. “You have your key?”

“I’m good. Thanks, Mike!” she replied, her voice only slightly breathy.

The moment now shattered, Adam’s only thought was that he needed to leave. He needed to escape this woman’s spell on him. “I’ll see you later,” he said, opening his car door.

She blinked at him. “Okay,” she said, “see you.”

And then he drove off, forcing himself not to look behind him at Joy’s shrinking figure.

Chapter Five

Two weeks after arriving in Heron’s Landing, Joy fulfilled her promise to Grace and invited her over for a full-on girls’ night. It included manicures, cocktails, and a variety of chick flicks—
10 Things I Hate About You
for Joy, and
Sleepless in Seattle
for Grace. Joy also tossed in a few random contenders to spice things up—
Terminator 2
and
Rocky
—mostly so she could tell people that girls’ nights didn’t mean they could only talk about boys and boy-related issues. Always important to pass the Bechdel Test in real life.

Pulling out the red polish to begin work on her nails, Joy squinted as she started on her left hand. Sadly, Dana the stylist was on maternity leave for the foreseeable future and didn’t want to inhale nail polish fumes right now, so Joy was stuck doing her own manicures for now. Which was fine, but she wasn’t talented enough to paint tiny flowers on her own nails, so they inevitably seemed rather plain in comparison to what she was used to.

Oh, the sacrifices she made coming to this town!

“Adam told me you went to River’s Bend recently,” Grace said as she went to go pop another bag of popcorn.

Joy didn’t look up from painting her nails, mostly because she didn’t want to let Grace know she had
feelings
about that whole…thing. Nope, no feelings tonight. Just frivolity and Bloody Mary’s and girl stuff. At this point, she’d rather talk about periods than about Adam Danvers, but alas, Grace didn’t seem to agree.

“He said you wanted to do a story about the vineyard. I hope he didn’t run you off with a pitchfork for suggesting it. He’s weird about journalists, you know.” Grace came back over to the couch, setting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. Joy grabbed a few kernels with her unpainted hand, but one missed her mouth and bounced into the depths of the couch.

She then looked at Grace—oh yeah, Adam. The vineyard. Stories. Aloe vera.

Continuing to paint, she said in as airy a voice as she could manage: “He didn’t run me off, but he wasn’t exactly welcoming of the idea, either. He does realize there’s a thing called the First Amendment, where I can write what I want despite what Adam Danvers thinks?” She swiped the side of her ring finger with the nail polish brush, and she sighed. “I mean, it’s not like I’d write something that would cause him to sue me for libel. Generally, people don’t sue writers for
positive
stories about their business.”

Grace laughed. “Adam wouldn’t sue you. He’s just…cranky. Plus, the vineyard’s been struggling for a while, so I know that’s stressed him out a lot.”

Her ears perking up suddenly, Joy found herself leaning forward to hear more. It wasn’t any of her business, but the damned nosy writer/bloodhound inside of her loved this kind of information. She also—despite her internal protestations otherwise—wanted to know more about Adam. What made him tick? Why did he look perpetually constipated? How did he get his dark hair so perfectly wavy?

“Why is it struggling? Bad harvest?” Joy switched over to her right hand, painting her thumbnail the crimson red with slow strokes.

“That, and the weather has sucked for the past three years. My dad always thought global warming was a hoax until it began wrecking the business. Last year there was a drought, and before that, tons of rain. Same thing this year: rain, rain, and more rain.” Grace sighed as she leaned back into the couch. “We’ve talked to him about doing events again, but he’s stubborn. He doesn’t want to change things.”

Joy nodded. She could see Adam being stubborn as hell while also being resistant to change. Whereas she liked to shake things up as often as possible—she moved to this teeny town, for Christ’s sake—he seemed like he’d hate moving to a big city. Or even a medium city. She couldn’t really fault him for planting such deep roots here, and a small part of her envied him that.

“I thought you guys already did events,” Joy said, thinking about the wine-tasting class she’d seen going on when she’d gone to the vineyard. “Do you mean like parties?”

“No, more like weddings. We tried to do weddings a few years ago when Dad was still the manager, but it didn’t work out so well.” Grace wrinkled her nose. “I know that after that, Adam basically swore off ever trying it again. But Jaime says that it’s probably one of the best bets to bring in revenue…” Her voice trailed off, and Joy glanced up to see the younger woman biting her lip.

After spending only a small amount of time with Grace Danvers, Joy had discovered two things: the girl was a brilliant artist but lacked confidence in her own talents, and she was also madly in love with the chef of River’s Bend, Jaime Martínez. Joy had only seen Jaime a few times from a distance, but she couldn’t fault the girl for her taste. He was handsome, tall, and could cook, and he probably saved orphans and nursed puppies in his spare time. If Joy weren’t already preoccupied with her own mess of a life, she’d go after Jaime herself. Well, and if Grace weren’t making goo-goo eyes at him every chance she got.

Enjoying this change in subject, Joy screwed the cap back on the nail polish and sat back into the couch. “How is Jaime, by the way?” she asked with a smile.

Grace immediately grabbed a fistful of popcorn, which she ate kernel by kernel in some attempt to avoid Joy’s question. Finally, probably knowing she was being rude, she said, “He’s fine, I guess. I don’t see him much since he’s always working. Why do you ask?”

Joy waved her hand to air dry her nails. “No reason. Just that I’ve noticed you seem to watch him anytime he’s around. Yesterday you stopped speaking to me for at least five minutes when he entered Trudy’s.”

“I did not.”

“Mmmm, pretty sure you did. And then when I thought you’d at least tell the man good morning, you scurried off into the back like he had the plague.” Seeing that Grace was getting agitated, Joy knew she shouldn’t tease her too much longer. “Have you ever thought about asking him out?”

Grace’s eyes widened so much that, clearly, the idea had never come to mind. “What? No. Why would I? He’s my brother’s employee. No, I couldn’t.” She grabbed more popcorn, eating it so quickly Joy was half-afraid she’d choke on it.

“Well, you like him, obviously. Seems natural you’d see if it could go anywhere.”

Silence fell, with only the sound of Grace chewing in the room. They hadn’t yet put on a movie—and Joy almost got up to do so to give Grace a respite—but then the girl blurted, “It wouldn’t matter anyway. He’s only ever seen me as Adam’s little sister.”

Ah, that explained it,
Joy thought. Getting up, she popped
Sleepless in Seattle
from its DVD case and placed it into the player. Sitting back down, she said, “You’ll never know if you don’t try,” she said simply.

Grace didn’t reply, but Joy knew she was mulling over her words the rest of the evening.