My hand freezes in mid-air. “Why would you say that?”
“Umm.” All of a sudden, she doesn’t want to meet my eyes. “Here, let me show you how to sand the wood.” She puts on a mask and reaches for her pink sander, turning it on. “It has these stains here, see?”
“I’m all for learning new skills,” I raise my voice over the noise. “But you’re hiding something.”
Eliza looks like her red hair bled into her temples. Her shoulders drop, and she kills the sander. “It’s something Carter mentioned.”
My oblivious brother, who knows nothing about what happened? A knock on the barn door robs me of the chance to find out what Eliza meant.
God, I can’t escape him. Adam steps inside, and something about him is different. Stronger, calmer, looking so much betterthan he did at that late-night meeting at Robertson’s house. Mom’s revelations haunt me. Did he really care that much that I left? Wasn’t he too busy spending time in bars with other women?
But I didn’t confront him about it. I just left.
“You ladies have magic in your veins,” he says. “It already looks so much better.”
Eliza beams, turning the chest around. “We’ll finish it in time for your mom’s birthday.”
“You had me butchering Lori’s present?!” I shriek in a panic.
“I’m a simple boy from rural Minnesota. Easily impressed.” He smiles like he means it, and my heart skips a beat. Doubts I buried in London claw their way to the surface.
“I’ve been rudely commanded to tell you lovely ladies that dinner is ready,” he says. “On a side note, Carter is one undercooked beef away from turning into that foul-mouthed British chef, so take it easy on him. He’s tried something new.”
“Oh, no, poor man,” Eliza coos. “I’d better check on him before we end up with toast for dinner.”
“Go ahead, I’ll clean up.” I make myself more comfortable in the large, mismatched chair, and for some mysterious reason, I quickly add, “Adam will help me.”
His brows rise, but he smiles at Eliza. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t get overwhelmed and start reorganizing your paint cans.”
I laugh, and his expression slackens, like I’ve grown another head.
“You’re in a surprisingly good mood,” he says in a hushed tone once Eliza is out of earshot.
Leaning back, I decide to be honest, for once. “I haven’t had many reasons to be lately.”
Adam hesitates, cleaning bottles in hand. “Things have been difficult between us,” he says slowly, but his green eyes catch mygaze. “But if you need to talk about all of this…I’m still a good listener.”
The sharp twist in my heart leaves me breathless. Years of missing him and our talks hit me with such force, tears prickle, and I let out a whispered, “Thanks.”
Adam doesn’t try to fill the thick silence that’s enveloped the barn to the point where I’m fidgeting.
As he puts everything back, my head lolls to the side, and I watch him moving through the space, not seeming in a rush, his T-shirt stretching over his wide back every time he places something on the higher shelves. That muscled back that coiled with tension, that I used to cling to when we—
Adam turns suddenly, his gaze fine-tuned on me, like he can see the images burning in the back of my brain. My pulse picks up as he rounds the workbench, never breaking eye contact, stopping so close his scent drowns me.
He bends and grips the armrests so casually, but his face is taut with focus, turning my palms clammy. “What am I going to do with you?”
“What do you mean?” I breathe, fighting the urge to trace the line of his jaw.
A hum rumbles in the back of his throat and pours over me like warm water. “You still have the same tells.” His knuckles are white on the dark wood. After a long pause, he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s almost like you forgot you hate me.”
The retort balances reflexively on the tip of my tongue, but I hear the fragile hope beneath his words.
I take a deep breath and match his stare. “I don’t.”
Admitting it out loud is like ripping out a part of me and gifting it to him on a silver platter.
Everything about him is still, only his eyes are like the swell of the deep sea. He leans in, lips close enough I could…
