No one mentioned that the anniversary of Jimmy’s death was also looming. Maggie knew Jenny didn’t want to be home for that particular day and was glad the boys’ spring break happened to fall that same week. Hopefully, the beach house would serve as a distraction for them.
When Maggie mentioned the need to call a cab, Adam offered to drive her home, and she gratefully accepted. He even agreed to stop by the store so she could let the dogs out for a minute. They said their thank yous and goodbyes and left.
***
Mitch helped Jenny put the boys to bed and then went to the kitchen to start the clean-up.
“We don’t need to do this now,” she said. “I’ll get it in the morning. Let’s just sit?”
“Sounds good.” He grabbed his half-empty beer, and she refilled her wineglass before heading outside to the porch. The night air was chilly, so she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders before sitting down next to him.
After learning what he’d been going through at work, she figured he didn’t need any more psychoanalyzing and decided to forgo her plan to have an in-depth conversation into his “issues” and kept things light. “So, what do you think of Maggie?”
“She’s a klutz. And a goody two shoes. Do you know what she said when she fell in the backyard? ‘Son of a biscuit!’ What the hell does that even mean?”
Jenny gave him a mock look of surprise and laughed. “She’s the sweetest thing. She doesn’t care that others swear but rarely does it herself. It’s just the way she was raised.”
“The boys seem to really like her.”
Realizing what he was doing, she let him off the hook. They chitchatted a while longer, and then he got up to leave. She kissed him on the cheek and told him to be safe. He smiled in return and told her to lock the door behind him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Adam now knew how the soldier guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier felt. He was honest-to-God pacing, wearing a groove in the carpet, trying to get it all straight in his head and figure out what the hell had happened last night.
The pacing was also helping him work up the nerve to make a phone call that would forever change his life. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous about calling a woman—perhaps never. He’d always been Mr. Smooth. But last night, in an instant, everything changed.
He picked up the phone and began to dial the number he’d recently memorized. At the last digit, he chickened out and hung up. God, was he really contemplating writing a script?
In Boston, Adam’s reputation as a womanizer was common knowledge. Colleagues, especially those who loved juicy gossip more than the truth, pegged the number of women he’d slept with to be well into the triple digits. His love ’em and leave ’em attitude was notorious among those in his department and beyond. Men revered him, and women flocked to be with him. His prowess and conquests were legendary.
The only problem? It was all a sham. He never understood why everyone was so quick to believe the lies andexaggerations, but after several futile attempts to debunk the myth, he had accepted it and moved on. He was friendly to everyone, male and female. Was he a shameless flirt? Yes. Did he date a lot of women? Yes. Did he sleep with all those women? No.
The truth of it was that out of all the women he dated, he’d only slept with a handful. The others were simply part of his search. He’d been ready to find “the one” and settle down for years. He wanted a wife. He wanted kids. And he wasn’t getting any younger. His Casanova reputation severely hampered his prospects and played a big part in his decision to leave Boston. It was difficult to find Mrs. Right when everyone you asked out assumed they were just going to be Ms. Right Now.
Picking up the phone again, he gave himself a little pep talk.Stop being a pussy, and just do it.He dialed and let it ring.
“Hello?” Her voice instantly caused his heart to race, and his hands dampened.
“Hi, Jenny. It’s Adam. Mitch’s partner?” He thought it came out pretty smooth. So far, so good.
“I remember. How’s it going?” He heard the boys running around in the background and figured he should be brief. His nerves couldn’t take much more anyway.
“Good, thanks. Hey, I was just getting ready to head out and realized I left my jacket and sunglasses at your place last night. I don’t want to inconvenience you, but is there a time I could stop by and get them today or tomorrow?”
Shit, did that sound too desperate?He didn’t want to be pushy but couldn’t risk her offering to give them to Mitch to give to him. The last thing he needed was Mitch involved in this.
“Sure, no problem, um…let me check our schedule…” He heard papers rustling. “We’ll be home most of tomorrow. Baseball practice starts at five. Anytime before that would be fine. Does that work for you?”
“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks. I’ll see you then.” He hung up with a sigh of relief.Whew! I guess that wasn’t so hard. Am I about to throw up? God, get a grip, man!
Purposely leaving his sunglasses and jacket at Jenny’s was an immature, middle school move, but it was a classic for a reason—it worked. He would see her again tomorrow.
Deep down, he knew exactly what had happened last night. He just had a hard time believing it. After all this time searching, all it took was one look into those beautiful blue eyes, and he’d found her. In that instant, he had to stop talking to catch his breath. The earth shifted beneath his feet, and he discovered that “love at first sight” wasn’t just a trite cliché. It was real, and it had happened to him.
He had fallen in love with Jenny Johnson, of that he was certain. But, now what? She came with baggage. Lots of baggage. She was a widow with two kids. And one of her best friends would just as soon kill him as look at him. Mitch. Shit. He wouldnotbe happy about this.
Note to self: Keep Mitch in the dark as long as possible. When you do tell him, be sure he’s unarmed.
