ADAM CLIMBED THE outside steps to Flo’s apartment, feeling both silly and worried.
Should he be here at eight o’clock at night? Probably not. He’d left Justine at his house with Jennifer, and God, he still hadn’t fully grasped that his ex-wife was here. But when he’d spoken to Flo a few hours earlier, her voice had sounded a little off. Not particularly upset, but maybe subdued? Or... Hell, he didn’t know, but it had planted a seed of concern and he hadn’t been able to root it out since. So here he was, his ex-wife in his home with their daughter while he stood outside Flo’s front door. Feeling a little foolish, but still...worried.
Resigning himself to possibly looking like an overprotective idiot, he raised his fist and knocked on the door. Within seconds it opened, and Flo was there, a surprised but welcoming smile curving her pretty mouth.
And yep, he felt even more foolish because she was obviously okay. And the relief coursing through him didn’t come anywhere near to capsizing the pleasure at looking down at her lovely face. He visually devoured her as if it’d been days since he’d seen her instead of hours. This pleasure, it was more than physical. He just...
Yeah, he couldn’t go there. Not now.
“Hey, Adam.” She smiled wider and stepped back, inviting him inside her apartment. “This is a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I know, and I’m sorry for just dropping by without calling.”
“No problem. I said it was a nice surprise,” she teased, closing the door behind him. “Is everything okay? Is Justine all right?”
A burst of warmth filled him that her very next question was about his daughter.
“Yes, she’s fine. When I left her, she and Jennifer were arguing over which movie to watch. If I’m not mistaken, Jussy was winning.”
Flo laughed, and he struggled not to touch her. Not to brush his fingertips over that smile. Struggled...and lost. But instead of her mouth, he traced her cheekbone, the arch of her eyebrow. She—touching her, being near her—had become a compulsion he couldn’t deny himself.
Jesus, he was in so deep.
“I have a confession,” he said, knowing it wasn’t exactly wise to admit the truth to her, but hell. It wasn’t wise to feel this, this encompassing need for her, either. “I was worried about you, and I couldn’t shake it. Something didn’t seem right earlier, and I had to...come see if you were okay.”
Her grin softened, as did her face, and her pretty eyes brightened. She moved closer to him, not stopping until her breasts brushed his abdomen and her thighs pressed to his. Without his permission and completely out of his control, his cock hardened. A natural occurrence around her, it seemed. Her hands slid over his waist to his back, her fingers denting the taut muscles.
Tilting her head, she said, “Not that I’m not happy you’re here, but you know you could’ve called and asked me if I was all right.”
Yes, he’d considered that very thing as he walked out of the house. As he started his car. And as he drove through the quiet, pretty streets of Rose Bend. Definitely as he approached the building that housed her studio and apartment.
And even now.
All he said in response to her observation, though, was, “Yes.”
Her mouth stretched with the return of her grin, and her fingers dug harder into his spine, sending curls of heat from there straight to his cock. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing closer to her, from cupping the nape of her neck.
“You’re not wrong,” she said, but her smile didn’t dim. And the knot that had tightened his stomach at her words eased as he studied her face. “Something happened today. But not bad. Not bad at all. Come on.”
She stepped back, releasing him, and he immediately missed her hands on him. But she led him toward the living room, scooping up a stack of mail off a small table by the door with the other.
“You have good timing, actually,” she said, sinking down to the couch and tossing the envelopes onto the coffee table. Curling a leg under her, she turned to face him as he followed her down onto the cushion. “I just got home about five minutes before you arrived. It’s been...” She sighed, but it wasn’t weary. Quite the opposite. It sounded light. “A day.”
Leaning a shoulder against the back of the sofa, she started telling him about her conversation with her brother, and then going to her family’s inn to see Noah. Astonishment winged through him as she talked. Astonishment and pride. In her courage and vulnerable, forgiving heart. Regret coalesced in his belly. God, he would’ve loved to have been there for her, even if only for support. Or maybe just to witness that act of bravery. She’d faced her fear, confronted her past and forged a new path for the future. That took guts and a beauty that momentarily stole his breath.
“We ended up having a family dinner, a complete family dinner, for the first time in years. And it was great. Dad with his brother, and seeing them laugh and cut up together? It was...” Her voice thickened. “It was really amazing. For the first time I could see how much Dad had missed him. I think he might’ve hidden that in the past because of me.”
“No,” Adam gently corrected. “Because of his love for you. There’s a difference.”
“Yes.” She nodded, her eyebrows wrinkling in a tiny frown before clearing. “Yes, there is a difference. But it was good to see that he didn’t have to hide it anymore.”
“I’m glad for you. For all of you,” he said, then huffed out a small laugh. “Look at you. Today you’re two for two. First, you did...whatever you did with Jennifer. I’m still not exactly sure what happened there.” She chuckled, and he shook his head. “My mind’s still reeling from the great father compliment. And then this with Noah. I wasn’t kidding when I called you a miracle worker.”
Flo buffed her nails and blew on them, smiling. He laughed and shifted forward, cradling her cheek, and she leaned into his palm, rubbing against it. And because he couldn’t resist, he leaned in and took her mouth. She melted into the kiss, parting her lips for him and he took full advantage, indulging in the feel and taste of her.
“I know you can’t stay,” she murmured against his mouth. “You need to get home to Jussy. But have you eaten? I brought home tons of leftovers. Moe made sure I didn’t leave without enough for at least a week.”
Adam squinted, and his stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Jennifer had just brought Jussy home when he’d asked her to stay while he left to check on Flo. He’d been too worried to concern himself with dinner.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Flo snickered and started to rise from the couch. “I’ll go get a plate together for you.”
“No,” he said, setting a hand on her slim thigh. “I have it. You just got home. Relax.”
“I’m not going to argue,” she joked, sinking back down. “Take whatever you want. I haven’t put the food in the refrigerator yet, so everything should still be warm.”
“Got it.”
He headed for the kitchen. Like she said, the food was still warm. He made a plate and threw it into the microwave to give it more heat. By the time he returned to the living room, Flo had opened her mail. Head bent over an unfolded sheet of paper, she didn’t look up as he lowered to the couch, completely engrossed in what she was reading.
Frowning, he set his plate on the table. Her grip tightened on the letter to the point where it crinkled in the silence.
“Hey,” Adam murmured, cupping her bended knee. “You good? Is everything okay?”
Finally, she lifted her head with a look of such awe that it took him aback. His grip on her tightened. “Flo?”
She blinked. Then her face broke out in a delighted grin; it lit her up like one of the flashes on her cameras.
“I can’t believe this,” she whispered. “Oh my God, I can’t believe this.”
“Baby, what?” He shifted closer, his hand moving to her thigh. “What’s going on?”
“A job. I’ve been offered a job.” She laughed, her head falling back, and she murmured something he didn’t catch. When her gaze met his again, excitement gleamed there. “I can’t believe this,” she repeated for the third time, shaking her head and holding up the paper. “I didn’t think I would...”
“Flo,” he said her name again, firmer. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m sorry. God.” She laughed once more. “I’m not making sense. You remember when we met, and I told you about the terrible trip to Thailand? About my former professor and mentor?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I knew Paul would start some kind of whisper campaign against me. He was so petulant, so angry, that I recorded the video and threatened him. I had zero doubts he would try and sabotage me. But he didn’t. Or rather, he couldn’t. This—” she held the paper up higher “—is from the new dean of the College of Fine Arts, a position formerly held by Paul Coolidge. Apparently, a student came forward and complained about inappropriate behavior, and this revealed that it hadn’t been the first time. Which led to one of my colleagues on the Thailand trip—a colleague who had remained silent—coming forward several weeks ago and relating everything that happened with me.”
“Flo. God.” He exhaled, and it ended on a stunned laugh. “That’s amazing. I wish that person would’ve had your back sooner, but it still took courage to speak out. I’m happy for you.”
She nodded, still appearing a little dazed with the turn of events.
“It did take courage. And I’m thankful. But that’s not all the new dean wanted. She reviewed my portfolio and admired it. She has contacted a friend of hers who is looking for a photographer to accompany her on a trip to Kenya. The woman is an author and she’s writing a book about her family, tracing it back to the Nilote ethnic group, specifically the Turkana tribe. It’ll take about three weeks, but the author is paying well, and the dean thinks I would be perfect for the assignment.” Flo fell back against the arm of the couch. “I can’t... Who would’ve thought the day would end like this?”
Her delight permeated the room, and ice threaded through his veins, covering his chest in a frozen sheet. Not shock.
Fear.
And resignation.
Flo, oblivious, threw her hands up, the letter with the job offer still clutched in her fist.
“I’d kind of given up on having another opportunity at a dream job like Thailand. At least not anytime soon. But this... I get a redo. And Kenya,” she breathed. “This is more than I dreamed.”
“Congratulations,” Adam said. It sounded flat, dull, even to his own ears. And he hated it. Hated the numbness that coated him from the inside out instead of feeling the excitement and happiness that radiated off her. “I’m happy for you. This is a wonderful opportunity.”
Flo slowly lowered the paper, her gaze sharpening on him even as a small frown creased her brow. “You don’t sound happy.” She tilted her head. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s nothing wrong,” he lied. “This is an amazing career opportunity, and I’m thrilled you have this chance.”
He’d known this would happen. Had predicted it. But at some point during the past few weeks, he’d gotten caught up in this...thing with Flo. Had let himself forget that history could, and probably would, repeat itself. Even with Jennifer sitting in his house as a reminder, he’d allowed himself to get comfortable, to...believe.
Flo continued to study him, and he caught the moment awareness dawned in her eyes. The moment those eyes shuttered.
“Oh,” she said, her tone now as flat as his had been. “We’re back here. I was hoping we’d gotten past this, that you’d learned who I am and let this go. But apparently not, because here we are.”
Adam dragged a hand over his face and beard, turning from her and propping his elbows on his knees. He stared down at his clasped hands, and the silence that fell between them weighed down his shoulders, his back.
“What do you say to me? Look at me,” she ordered, a hard note entering her voice. “Look at me and tell me again there’s nothing wrong. That when you walk out of here tonight you don’t plan on distancing yourself from me? Haven’t already started relegating me to coworker and nothing more in your mind.”
She could never be just a coworker to him. They’d come much too far for that. But the rest of it? Yeah, he couldn’t admit it. But she was right.
“Flo,” he murmured.
“Don’t Flo me,” she said, and a moment later she moved from the couch to the coffee table, shoving his untouched plate aside and sitting down directly in front of him. “If you’re going to do this, to us, you’re going to look at me and tell me the truth.”
To us.
Panic clawed at him, and he recoiled. Both from the panic and the longing attacking him. Something in him stretched toward her, toward that us, and it scared the shit out of him.
“Flo, I’ve never lied to you,” he murmured, meeting her gaze. “I’ve always been honest about where I’m at, about my priorities and yours. There hasn’t been an—”
Yeah, he couldn’t even utter that lie. Couldn’t push it past his throat. But she jumped on his unspoken word, her spine snapping straight, her eyes narrowing.
“There’s no us,” she said. “That’s what you were about to say, right? There’s never been an us?” She loosed a sharp, humorless laugh. “Liar,” she accused, then shook her head, her locs flying over her shoulder. “No, coward. You’re a coward if you sit here and say that to me knowing it’s a lie.”
He surged to his feet, stalked around her and over to the window. Staring sightlessly down at the dark and quiet Main Street, he tried to get his thoughts together. But that proved an impossible feat. Not with the betrayal and pain saturating Flo’s voice, and her anger beating at him like small fists.
He needed to go.
He wanted to stay.
Lifting a fist to the window, he pressed hard against the cool glass. This was his fault. He’d known. He’d known. And he hadn’t cared. Now, not only was Flo hurt, but Justine would be, too. He had no one to blame for their pain but himself.
“Flo, I’m sorry,” he said, turning around to face her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I am. I—”
“Cop-out,” she snapped, rising from the table. She took several steps toward him before she drew up short. “That’s nothing but a cop-out.” She sliced a hand through the air as if cutting off his apology. “I’m not asking you to stay. I’m not even asking you to commit to me. I’ve never demanded either from you. But I won’t allow you to stand there and pretend like what we’ve shared is one-sided or in my imagination. Give me that, at least.”
“I do care for you. I won’t ever deny that.”
Her mouth curved into a humorless, jaded smile, and the sight so contradicted the joyous one she’d worn just minutes ago that it struck him in the chest like a wildly swung fist.
“Gee, thanks,” she drawled, sarcasm dripping from the words. “From almost the first, you’ve accused me of being too young, too driven, too inexperienced, too ambitious. You’ve marked me with this scarlet J for Jennifer. When I’m. Not. Her. But it’s safer for you to paint me with her brush because it’s easier than taking a risk. It’s easier than you trusting that I won’t hurt you, walk away from you. It’s easier than you believing that you can love me like I deserve and sustain a relationship. You live your life afraid and closed off because it’s just easier.”
Adam reeled from her accusation, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t move. He wanted to deny her words, tell her he wasn’t just looking out for his daughter, but for her, too. Protecting her, but not stifling her creativity or career aspirations. But the explanation lodged in his throat. Not that Flo seemed like she wanted to hear his reasons.
No.
His excuses.
That was what she would call them. No matter how valid they were.
“I’ve lived in fear for so long,” she said, quieter now, that edge of anger softening. But the intensity in her eyes remained. She moved toward him again, but again, she stopped. As if she wanted to be near him, but wouldn’t allow herself. Or maybe he was just projecting. “For more than half of my life, I’ve had this wall built around myself where I don’t let people too close, only permit them to get so far before I shut the door, closing them out, shutting myself in. And I preferred it that way. Because if I didn’t let myself depend on them...love them...then when they left, when they fucked up, I couldn’t be hurt. I’m tired of that, Adam. So damn tired.”
She held up her hands and stared at them as if all her fears weighed them down. And when she dropped her hands to her sides, she released those fears, letting them litter the floor around her feet.
A stab of envy shook him.
“I refuse to live in fear one more day. Fear you’ll leave. Fear you’ll decide I’m not worthy of you and Justine. Fear of...loving and eventually losing. Fear that rejection of that love will destroy me. All of it has consumed me, and I won’t do it any longer. It robs me of happiness, peace and possibilities. You and Jussy, you’re a part of those possibilities. I didn’t know it when I walked into that bar weeks ago, that you would end up being a part of my hopes and dreams for the future. I didn’t know that I would love so strongly, so completely, that I question how I didn’t feel like something was missing inside me before then. I don’t question whether I can have my passion and you and Justine. I don’t have to choose.” Her eyes narrowed while her voice remained soft yet filled with the passion she just mentioned. “And if you make me choose between them, then you aren’t the man I need.”
I didn’t know it when I walked into that bar weeks ago, that you would end up being a part of my hopes and dreams for the future.
I didn’t know that I would love so strongly, so completely that I question how I didn’t feel like something was missing inside me before then.
Jesus. Had she just admitted she loved him, was in love with him? He couldn’t move, shock seizing him. Something primal demanded he trek across the space separating them and yank her into his arms. Take her. Claim her. That same something nearly demanded she repeat her words, mark him as hers, too.
But the panic crackled through him more powerful than ever, fisting his lungs, his heart, polluting his blood. Refusing to let him accept what a part of him so desperately yearned for.
“Flo, I...” A frustrated growl because he couldn’t find the words. Couldn’t find the courage that she deserved. “I never meant to hurt you.”
It was all he could say. All that he had.
And he could tell by the flattening of her mouth and the pain glistening in her eyes that it wasn’t enough. It gutted him.
“You’ve said that, and you know what, Adam? I believe you. But it’s not enough for me,” she whispered, echoing the thoughts in his mind. She inhaled a deep breath, her shoulders straightening, her expression blanking. “Thank you for coming over to check on me. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave now.”
“Flo,” he called her name, even held his hand out toward her, but she took a step back from him.
“Good night, Adam.”
She turned and walked away from him, leaving him alone.
No, not alone.
He had his resolve and his fear to keep him company.
Like always.