Take This Man (11 page)

Matt
quirked an eyebrow. “So you and Kim are on again?”

“Would
you kindly get the hell out of here?” Adam demanded, keeping his voice low.
Grabbing his brother’s elbow, he steered Matt into the living room.

“Take
it easy,” Matthew complained. He pulled a folded envelope out of his back
pocket. “Listen. There’s something I want to show you.”

Adam
recognized the envelope immediately. “No, put it away. I’ve already seen it.”

Matt
hesitated. “You—”

“He
sent me one, too.”

“Did
you—”

“I
threw it in the trash as soon as I found out it was from our asshole
stepfather.”

Matthew’s
brow wrinkled and his mouth flattened. “So, you didn’t read it.”

“Hell,
no. I wouldn’t have even opened it, if I’d known who it was from. Sneaky fucker,
not putting his name in the return address.” Adam gave a snort. “I didn’t read
it, but I bet I can tell you what it says. He’s sorry, blah blah blah, he wants
to make amends yada yada yada…how’m I doin’?”

Matthew
sighed as he fingered the envelope. “He sounds like he’s genuinely sorry.”

“BFD.
A little late, isn’t it?” Adam didn’t like the look on his brother’s face. “Shit.
Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for him. ‘Cause if that’s the case, Wash, I’m
gonna have to pound some sense into you, I swear.” Though what he really wanted
to do was pound the shit out of that asshole, Don.

“No,
not sorry exactly.” Matt slipped the envelope back into his jeans pocket. He
shifted his feet, then glanced at his brother. “He says he’s sick.”

Adam
gnashed his teeth. Not that he gave a rat’s ass about his former step-father.
But he hated the way Don was trying to fuck with his brother’s head. Wash had
always been a soft-hearted little sucker.

“So
what? We’re supposed to feel sorry for him? Jesus,” he told Matt, “don’t you
get it? He’s playing the sympathy card. Scared shitless he’s gonna die and
wants us to tell him all is forgiven. Well, fuck that.”

A
wave of protectiveness hit Adam, followed by a wave of guilt. Though he often
pulled his brother’s chain, he never wanted to see him hurt. He tried to watch
out for Matt when they were kids, just like he tried to protect his mother. Don
made that impossible. To keep from killing his stepfather, Adam bailed. Not
just on his mother, but on Wash, too.

Matthew
wouldn’t let the subject drop. “He says he’s been sober a few years now…”

“Who
gives a shit?” Adam said. “Look, don’t tell me what it says, I don’t want to
know. Forget him. He put our mother through hell, and we don’t owe him shit.”

“I
know,” Matthew answered. But Adam could tell his brother didn’t think it was
that simple.

“Okay,
well, if we’re done with our little heart to heart here, it’s time for you to
go, Wash.”

“Yeah,
yeah. I’m cramping your style.”

“That’s
right. I don’t need you here breaking my balls,” Adam told him. “Go away and
bug your girlfriend
Andie
. Though I don’t know why she puts up with your
ass.”

Matthew
gave him a cocky grin and crossed his arms over his chest. “‘Cause she’s crazy
about me.”

Adam
rolled his eyes. “Aw, ain’t love grand.”

Matt
was unperturbed. “You’re jealous, is all.”

“Yeah,
whatever.” Adam did not acknowledge the twinge he felt. Shit. He
was
jealous. He wanted with Elyse what his kid brother had with Andie.

“Do
you plan on showing up at all today, or what?” Matt asked.

“I
said I’ll be there. You’ll see me when you see me.”

“Hmm.
Sounds like quite the reunion you and Kim have planned. Say, how ‘bout a cup of
coffee for the road?”

“How
‘bout a kick in the ass instead?” Adam propelled his brother across the living
room.

“Jesus,
you sure are grouchy for somebody who’s getting laid,” Matthew complained as
Adam shoved him out the door.

“Hey,
Wash,” he called when Matt reached the driveway.

“What?”

“Do
yourself a favor and toss the letter. Shred it. Burn it. Whatever. Just forget
about the asshole, all right?”

Matt
gave a heavy sigh. “We’ll see…”

Fuck.
Adam slammed the door,
worried about his brother and mad as hell at Don. If he was so sick, why couldn’t
the asshole just go ahead and die already and leave them the hell alone?

He
returned to the kitchen to make sure the omelet stayed warm and to fix the
orange juice and toast. Elyse ambled in as he was setting everything on the
table. Had she heard any of the conversation between him and his brother? He
hoped to hell she hadn’t caught Wash Boy’s references to Kim.

“Hi.”
She smiled at him, rosy and warm from the shower, again wearing his shirt. Her
hair was damp, and she smelled like soap and the slightly musky scent of his
shirt. She snuggled against him as he nuzzled his nose against her ear.

“Smells
great,” she murmured into his shoulder. She broke away and moved back. “Where
should I sit?”

“Here’s
good,” Adam told her. He’d set the table so they would sit next to, rather than
across from, each other. He wanted to be as close to her as possible.

They
ate in silence for a few moments, except for the appreciative noises Elyse
made. “So good. I’d forgotten what a good cook you are.”

“Oh,
come on.” Adam felt his neck and face heat up. “It’s just a few eggs and
cheese.”

“Better
than I can do,” she told him. “And there’s something in here, some kind of
spice, what—”

“Thyme.
I found it in the cupboard.” He had a drawer full of spice bottles he hadn’t
used in ages. He’d sprinkled the thyme in on a whim, taking the chance it wasn’t
too old to lose its zest.

“Delicious,”
she assured him.

He
was pleased she enjoyed the food, and a little embarrassed by her praise. To
disguise his embarrassment, he rose and took a bottle of hot sauce from the
refrigerator.

Elyse
groaned in horror. “Oh, no. No, no. Tell me you’re not going to spoil this
beautiful dish by pouring that awful glop on it.”

“It
makes it taste better,” he insisted. “It
enhances
the flavor.”

She
wrinkled her nose. “Is that so, Mr. Food Network?”

“You
bet. Here, try some yourself.” He pretended he was about to sprinkle her plate
with the red sauce.

Elyse
swept the plate up and out of his reach. “Not on your life!” She shook her head
in disgust as he sat down laughing. She finished the rest of her meal quickly,
with appetite, then wiped her mouth with one of the paper towels put out in
place of napkins.

“Uh,
you got a little bit—” He pointed to a spot on his shirt where a blob of egg
had fallen.

“Oh,
no.” She scrubbed at the spot with her paper towel. “Oh, your shirt. I’m sorry.”

“Forget
it. It has to be washed anyway.” He couldn’t hold back a smile. She hadn’t
changed, either. He couldn’t forgo the hot sauce, and she couldn’t eat without
dropping something on herself.

“Thank
you for breakfast.” Elyse placed her utensils on her empty plate then picked
them up and carried them to the sink. “Wish I had someone cook like that for me
all the time.”

“You’ll
get three squares a day, if you’ll stay here with me.” The offer was out of his
mouth before he had a chance to consider it, but Adam did not regret making it.
Nor did he plan to rescind it.

Elyse
went still for a moment. Then she turned on the hot water and squirted some
dish soap into the sink. “Since you’re the cook, let me be the clean up crew
today.”

She
came to the table to get Adam’s things, her smile strained. He gently grasped
her wrist. “Elyse. Stay.”

She
shook her head, her blond hair hiding her face. “This is not something we
should be talking about.”

“We
agreed the past is out of bounds, and so is the future. All we have is right
now. Well, I need you now,” Adam told her. “I need as much of you as I can get,
for as long as now lasts.”

“What
about Jason?” Elyse asked.

Adam
felt himself tense. But he managed to keep his voice calm. “What about him?”

She
looked at him defiantly. “He’s why I came back to town. He asked for my help,
and I can’t just abandon him.”

For
fuck’s sake, what was that about? She talked about Devereaux as if he was a
kid, tied to her apron strings. As if he couldn’t manage on his own.

“You
won’t. Spend as much time with him as you need.” Though Adam’s guts burned
hotter than hot sauce, he kept his cool. “As long as you’re in my bed every
morning and every night.”

A
shadow flitted across her face for a moment. His heart sank. Shit. She was
going to say no.

Her
blue eyes sparked. “How’s Kim going to feel about that?”

He
winced. Fuck. She’d heard what Wash Boy said, all right.

“It’s
like I told you the other day. Kim and I are not seeing each other anymore,” he
said. Was Elyse jealous? He was flattered to think she might be, and a mean little
part of him was even glad. Now she knew how he felt about Jason, in spite of
her assurances there was no romance between them. “She’s a friend.” Though Kim
might not agree. “Like Jason is for you.” He couldn’t resist getting in that
last little dig.

“Forget
I said that,” Elyse broke in. “It’s not my business—”

“It
is if I want to make it your business. You’re the only woman I want, Elyse.”

“For
now,” she added quickly, as though to remind them both how temporary this was.

“For
now,” he agreed, but thinking,
like hell
. He’d been stumbling around the
past couple of days, not knowing what he was doing with Elyse, letting his
dick—and his heart—lead the way. But from now on his head—the big one—was in
charge. He’d fucked things up with her two years ago. Now he had a chance to
make things right. Starting now, he was going to do everything in his power to
win her back for good.

Chapter
Eight

“Well,
I can’t say I’m surprised,” Jason remarked when Elyse returned to the hotel
later that day and informed him she was staying with Adam for the rest of their
visit.

“You
don’t have to be so damn smug about it,” she grumbled, as she flopped onto his
bed.

“Leelee,
it’s obvious you still have feelings for the man.” He sank into the armchair
near the bed.

“Sexual
feelings, that’s all.”

“Oh,
really?” Jason looked at her in the obnoxiously supercilious way he sometimes
had.

She
gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

“And
I suppose you think by doing this, you’ll somehow work him out—or should I say
fuck him out—of your system?”

“Don’t
be crude.” Elyse turned up her nose. She could be supercilious, too.

He
laughed. “Oh, but I’m right on the money, aren’t I?”

That
was the trouble with best friends—they knew you too well. It was annoying.

Still,
Jason wasn’t wrong.

She
would never be able to trust Adam—
really
trust him—again. Though she’d
agreed to stay with him, a hard kernel of anger still lay buried in her heart.
Nonetheless, the pull between the two of them was strong, as strong as it had
ever been. Elyse was caught between her anger and her lust. Maybe spending the
next few days with Adam would free her. Maybe she really
could
fuck him
out of her system.

“Well,
good luck,” Jason told her, again reading her mind.

She
stuck out her tongue at him. “Just be glad you don’t have to pay for a second
hotel room anymore.”

“You
think I care about that?” Jason shook his head with a sigh. “Leelee, when are
you going to face facts? You are ass over teakettle in love with the man. That’s
the problem. Sex, darling, you can get anywhere, from anyone. It’s that old
black magic’s got you in its spell…”

“Uh-oh,
he’s gonna start singing now.”

“No,
I’ll spare you. But be careful. You think you’re taking the easy road. You
might be fooling yourself.”

That
got her back up. “I could say the same to you.”

Jason’s
shoulders stiffened.

A
little devil made Elyse ask, “How are things with you and Coop, anyway?”

His
gaze darted away. “Things are…progressing…”

Her
radar went off. “What’s that mean?”

“Debra’s
stalling.” Jason’s handsome features turned morose. “She wants them to have
another go at counseling.”

“Well,
for God’s sake, why doesn’t he come clean with the poor woman and tell her he’s
gay? It’s so fucking unfair, the way he’s playing the both of you—”