CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

 

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ADAM PACED ACROSS the marble floor. Calder never made him wait. The one night he needed everything to run like clockwork, the night his two favorite people in the entire world would meet for the first time, she had a business emergency.

They arrived outside the mansion at the same time. Once inside, Calder told him to wait, gave him a quick kiss, and rushed up the stairs. Ten minutes, she promised.

His mother would understand if they were late. His stomach might not.

Butterflies had invaded his gut—a huge mass of them, fluttering like crazy.

As he checked his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes, Adam debated his options. Wait. Or go to Calder's room and coax her to hurry.

"Tell me why I should trust you with my sister?"

Fixated on the empty stairs, Adam jumped. He turned to find Bryce directly behind him. He eyed her suspiciously, certain she hadn't been there a second ago.

"Where did you come from?"

"You don't know?" Bryce rolled her eyes. "An egg. Some sperm. Fertilization. Basic biology, Adam."

Adam smiled to himself. Even snarky, a Benedict sister could charm honey from a bee.

"In yours and Calder's case, two eggs."

"Touché." Bryce smiled. "I kind of like you. But, are you good enough for my sister? The jury's still out."

"Isn't the decision up to Calder?"

Bryce crossed her arms. Suddenly, Adam saw the resemblance. The set of her chin. The unwavering gaze that seemed to say, you must be kidding. She and Calder weren't identical, but they were twins. Used to getting what they wanted, and heaven help the man who tried to stand in the way.

"Scary, isn't she?"

Adam swallowed an unmanly yelp. Like Bryce, Andi Benedict came up on him unnoticed. Fast and silent. A handy skill if she were a ninja. In a Manhattan mansion? Kind of annoying.

"Her books scare the hell out of me."

"Okay. I definitely like you." Bryce nodded. "However, flattery will take you only so far. Calder deserves the best. Are you?"

The question threw him. The best? How the hell should he know? Adam looked from sister to sister. Something told him for all Bryce's bravado, Andi was the killer—figuratively speaking. Tall, slender, drop-dead gorgeous. And according to Calder, utterly ruthless where her business was concerned. Quite a combination.

Adam didn't need another Benedict sister to fall from the sky to tell him where he stood. He had to win their approval. Calder's opinion held some sway. But Andi and Bryce would make up their own minds.

"I won't hurt her." Simple and sincere seemed like a good place to start. "I respect her. Admire her. She's…"

"Calder." Andi's blue eyes softened. "She's Calder."

"Yes." He couldn't have expressed his feelings better.

With a nod, Andi patted Adam's arm.

"Sometimes one word says everything."

"Are we finished with him?" Bryce sounded disappointed as Andi tugged her across the foyer. "And what the heck? She's Calder. He's Adam. I don't understand."

"I hope you will. Someday soon."

Bemused, Adam waited until Bryce and Andi were out of the room before he checked his watch. One minute. Calder had sixty seconds before he—

"Thirty seconds to spare."

"Son of a bitch!" Adam rounded on Calder.

"Did I startle you?" Calder didn't seem the least bit contrite.

"Quiet as freaking cats, every last one of you." Adam helped her on with her coat.

"Bryce and Andi?" Adam gave a sharp nod. "Did they keep you entertained while you waited?"

With a chuckle, Adam opened the front door.

"Good a description as any."

 

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ADRIANA STONE WAS a surprise. Despite Adam's description of a strong, loving, supportive, resilient woman. A single mother who held her family together through thick and thin.

A cross between Betty Crocker and Wonder Woman.

Naturally, Adam saw Adriana through the distorted lens of an adoring son. After everything she'd gone through, he had every right to put his mother on an unrealistic pedestal.

Calder didn't expect to find quite the superwoman he describe.

In her mind, she thought she would find a delicate woman, with a quiet, slightly reserved demeanor. Certain she would like Adriana—after all, she was Adam's mother. She hadn't expected to adore her.

The woman was vibrant. The definition of alive. She kept busy with her job and friends. Volunteered at her church. Worked out three times a week. Hardly a saint, she had a wicked sense of humor. Her stories had Calder laughing all through dinner.

Calder quickly understood why Adam was such an amazing man. With Adriana as a role model, how could he miss?

After a wonderful meal, they moved to the living room. Sitting near the cups of after-dinner coffee and plates of strawberry shortcake, was a gold-embossed photo album. Adriana held a second open on her lap.

"From the moment Adam could crawl, he was into everything. Where he found the paint, I'll never know."

Calder smiled at the picture of a little boy with Adam's bright-blue eyes. A defiant expression on his face, he stood in a bathtub, red from head to toe.

Meeting her inquiring gaze, Adam shrugged.

"Beats me. I was three years old. My personal memories run from none to none. For all I know, Mom dumped a bucket of paint over my head for the sake of an adorable picture. And the chance to embarrass me almost three decades later."

Adriana's laugh rang out. Her son's teasing censure didn't deter her. She transferred the beautifully bound photo album from her lap to Calder's.

"Keep looking," she said. "I have two more in my bedroom."

"Mom. Calder didn't come here to pour over endless pictures."

"Don't listen to him. Bring on as much as you have."

Calder turned the page. From his perch on the sofa's arm, Adam winced. Tall and gangly, hair past his shoulders, and proudly decked out in a powder-blue tuxedo, teenage Adam posed for the camera, his arm slung around his date and a cocky expression on his face. The little brunette wore a low-cut, thigh-high, neon-pink dress. The white corsage pinned to her chest was huge. Around the size of the average prize-winning watermelon.

"Prom night?"

"The blissful ignorance of youth. Luckily, my sense of fashion has evolved for the better."

"No more blue polyester?" she teased.

"No more polyester, period."

"Your date was a cutie."

For a closer look, Adam slid onto Adriana's vacated seat.

"Valene Brewster. Constantly chewed cinnamon Trident. She'd remove the gum just long enough for a kiss. The second my lips left hers, she popped the wad back in."

"Waste not, want not."

"You're having way too much fun at my expense."

Calder couldn't argue. Grinning, she turned.

"Just wait for some payback, baby. I'm sure your mother has a treasure trove of your humiliating childhood pictures."

"Good luck." Calder dismissed the idea with a careless wave of her hand. "Billie would gladly show you all the pictures you like. With her front and center."

"What about you and your sisters?"

"When we were little, once a year she had our nanny dress us up like dolls. We'd sit on the floor, gaze up at Billie as if dazzled by her beauty. The pictures are somewhere. Maybe Billie's sitting room. The ritual ended as soon as Andi hit puberty. Photographic evidence of another Benedict with breasts? Intolerable."

Calder could laugh now. At the time, they were in a panic. What if Billie sent them away to school to hide the evidence of their—and her—increasing age from the world?

"Unbelievable."

"I know. How much competition could a twelve-year-old girl be?"

If Billie had even once thought ahead, she would have stopped at one girl. Instead, she had four. A fact her mother lamented every time she looked in the mirror. A fact for which Calder gave thanks every day of her life.

"You don't have any front teeth. How old were you here?"

Calder pointed to the picture. When she turned her head, she came face to face with Adam. Eyes filled with sadness, he pulled her close.

"Hey." Confused, she gave his back a consoling pat. "What's wrong?"

Bewilderment—plus a good dose of anger—clouded his eyes.

"You really need me to say?"

"Yes. Please."

"I don't think the way your mother treated you and your sisters is acceptable. Do you?"

Acceptable? No. Calder's normal? Yes. She should have kept the puberty story to herself. Adam was so easy to talk to, the words slipped out before she realized how they must sound to a man whose experience landed on the opposite end of the maternal spectrum from hers.

How could Calder explain Billie the Butterfly to a man who was raised by a twenty-first century June Cleaver?

"Billie is flighty. Selfish. Beyond frustrating. Occasionally infuriating. Yet, for all her faults, I will always love her. You want to know why?"

"You have to?"

Calder smiled, shaking her head.

"She gave me three amazing gifts. Andi. Bryce. And Destry. They are my family. They make me strong. They made me who I am."

Adam kissed her forehead.

"Something tells me each would say the same about you."

Such a good man. Could a heart sigh with happiness? Convinced the answer was yes, Calder gazed into Adam's eyes.

"We Benedict sisters know when we're on to a good thing."