CHAPTER SIX

 

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ADAM TRIED TO remember the last time he'd spent so much time thinking about a woman.

High school? The night he'd been one hundred percent certain he would finally get lucky with Mavis Emery? Months of sweaty make-out sessions with nothing to show for his efforts except what felt like a case of terminal blue balls, he spent hours dreaming of how glorious sex would be—if the day ever arrived.

The definition of a blond bombshell, Mavis was every high school boy's wet dream. Teased-out hair. Fire engine red lips. When Adam looked into her eyes, he saw a wealth of womanly knowledge in the pale blue depths. Mavis carried herself with worldly sophistication. Or so his sex-obsessed teenage imagination thought.

Turned out they were a couple inexperienced kids with more hormones than brains. The night Mavis confessed she was still a virgin, Adam didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He knew the basics. He'd counted on her to guide him.

Eventually, they fumbled their way through. In retrospect, Adam suspected he enjoyed the experience more than Mavis. She'd smiled as he held her close. Said all the right things to stroke his fragile ego. And because they were young, he believed they were in love.

A month later, Mavis turned her sights on the captain of the football team. His heart fully intact, Adam started dating a cute little brunette. Her name was stored in his memory beside all the other women he'd been with. Sherry Klein.

Names were easy for him. Lasting relationships, not so much.

Adam straightened his tie. He'd fallen into a pattern of one forgettable relationship after another. More like one or two-night stands if he wanted to be brutally honest. Mavis was memorable because she'd been his first.

With very few exceptions, he moved from woman to woman. All he needed—or wanted—were a few laughs. And a lot of sex.

Until one night on his way home from drinks with friends when he encountered a leggy, dark-eyed beauty and her asshole of an escort. Barely a blink in time.

Yet, her face lingered in his mind well after he'd watched her cab drive away.

As he lay awake, Adam told himself she was just a woman. When her image was still with him the next morning, he tried to convince himself she was like all the rest. Female. To be respected. To be enjoyed. To be forgotten.

How was Adam supposed to forget when the next day he literally ran right into her? Or rather, she ran into him. Calder. An unusual name. Like the woman herself.

Not a big believer in fate, Adam couldn't argue that something kept pushing them together. Calder didn't hem or haw when he asked if she were interested in him. Her eyes said yes. Her body said yes. Most important, her words said yes.

As a result, he did what any rational, heterosexual man would do. He asked her out before he gave into the impulse to kiss her. Wrong place. Wrong time.

Adam easily imagined how she would feel in his arms. And he smiled. Soft and warm and willing. Maybe even eager. A match for him. He wanted somewhere private. Not the back stairwell of her family's home where they could be interrupted at any second. Somewhere they could take their time. Explore. Taste. Enjoy.

Leaning close to the bathroom mirror, Adam ran his hand over his freshly shaved jaw. Smooth. As a teenager, he'd lived in jeans and sweatshirts. Yet, no matter what he wore, he always liked to be well groomed.

To Adam's surprise, he'd become quite the clothes horse since he left the Navy. Of course, money helped. For the first time in his life, his bank account was well padded. Very well padded. He'd discovered a side of the good life he hadn't expected. Tailored shirts and suits. An assortment of silk neckties. The Italian leather shoes that lined one wall of his closet were a big step up from canvas high-tops—the cheapest his mother could find.

Expensive didn't always equal better. Just because he had the money didn't mean Adam spent with reckless abandon. He saved whenever possible. Invested wisely. However, the first time he slid a pair of hand-crafted dress shoes on his feet, he knew he could never go back to bargain rack specials again.

Adam grabbed his wallet. Checked his image. Again. Same as the last time he looked. And the time before. Pressed suit. Crisp white shirt. Polished shoes. Foolish man.

Chuckling, Adam locked his apartment door. He wasn't a skinny kid, all nerves and uncertainty. He was a man with years of experience under his belt. A man who never doubted his choices. What was the point? Often, he took the right path. On the few occasions he swerved right when he should have gone left, he corrected the error. And moved on. Forward. Always forward.

Nerves and doubts. He couldn't remember the last time he'd experienced either. Yet, Adam wasn't so far removed from the emotions that he couldn't recognize them. What he felt tonight was different.

Anticipation.

Unlike the women Adam usually dated, Calder was a wild card. Not because of her money or social status. He didn't give a flying leap about either. What made her different was… Honestly, he had no idea. But he couldn't wait to find out.

 

~~~~

 

CALDER DIDN'T KNOW what to expect when she accepted Adam's invitation.

She wasn't a party girl. Never had been. Late nights, every night, weren't her scene. Social by nature meant she did go out on a regular basis. Sometimes with her sisters. Or with friends. Often with a male escort.

Dinner. Dancing. Movies. Concerts. Calder enjoyed the usual pursuits and gravitated toward people with the same interests. People she'd known for a long time or met through mutual acquaintances.

Adam was different. Calder knew very little about him. Beyond the fact that he wasn't a bouncer. Or a painter. Or that he hadn't hesitated to step in when he thought she needed his help.

He arrived at seven sharp. Which meant he was punctual. Calder knew the time because she glanced at the clock more often than she wanted to admit, willing the minutes to pass.

Perhaps she knew more about him than she thought. While Adam could rock a perfectly tailored suit with the best of them—comfortable and natural—he looked just as at home in a pair of jeans. And sexy as hell in either option.

The car he drove was expensive. Something low-slung and sporty—Calder wasn't informed enough on the subject to know the make or model. The fact that Adam didn't feel the need to expound on things like horsepower or the astronomical price tag impressed Calder more than he would ever understand.

On top of his growing list of virtues? He smelled amazing. The interior of the car was small. Intimate rather than cramped. If he'd doused himself with cologne, she would have known. Cheap or expensive, Calder was not a fan. Adam's scent was subtle. She breathed deeply. Mild soap and yummy male.

The combination was unexpected. And heady.

"All buckled in?" When Calder nodded, Adam's gaze dropped from her eyes, down her body. "Thank you."

"For?"

"The dress." With a grin, he put the car in gear. "First thing I noticed about you the night we met was your legs."

"These old things?" Calder crossed one leg over the other—in Adam's direction. "I've had them all my life."

Adam laughed. A low growl. He didn't need words to let Calder in on his thoughts. One heated glance as he merged into traffic was all she needed.

"How do you fill your days?" he asked. "Do you have a regular job?"

"Give me an example of an irregular job."

"Off the top of my head, I can't think of any." Adam braked as the traffic light changed from yellow to red. "You have money."

Calder waited while Adam paused to choose his words. The Benedict family fortune landed on the filthy side of rich—a good description, if the stories she'd heard about her ancestors were true. She wasn't particularly proud of her monetary status. Any more than she was ashamed.

Grateful? Definitely. Calder enjoyed her life. She worked. She played. She gave back to those in need through her charity and other worthwhile organizations.

"I have a job, Adam. Not because I need to work. Because I want to."

"Did I sound judgmental?"

"Maybe. A little." Calder liked that he was self-aware enough to ask. Speaking of which. "Did I sound defensive?"

"Maybe." Adam winked. "A little."

"I think I might like you."

"You sound surprised?"

"Like isn't the same as lust." Calder understood the difference. Did Adam?

"I've had sex with women I barely knew." Adam pulled the car to a stop. "Not something I brag about. Simply a fact. I wasn't interested in how they made their living. Or their family. Or their dreams. All I wanted was a yes."

Adam's bald-faced honesty didn't put Calder off. Instead, she found herself drawn to him even more.

"Did you at least get their names?"

"Usually." His eyes carried a roguish twinkle. "I knew a young lady who could hook her leg behind her head. The details don't matter. I—"

"Are you kidding? The details are the best part," Calder declared.

"Another time."

"You think I'll forget to ask. But I won't."

"Then I'll tell you. Another time."

Before Calder could mount an argument, Adam left the car. A few long strides later and he had the passenger door open. He took her hand.

"My point is simple—even if I took a roundabout journey to get there."

"Do tell."

"I like you, Calder. And I want you. The two don't always go together. In this case, our case, they do. On my side, at least."

Before they crossed the street, Adam tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. A casual gesture. Yet, intimate. Thoughtful without an ounce of premeditation. Not to impress. Natural. Part of who he was as a man and a human being.

"Where are we?" Calder asked.

"My part of town."

Adam led her toward a nondescript brick building. The entrance was lit by a single low-wattage bulb which hung over a simple, unmarked black door.

Since they hadn't crossed a bridge or traveled through a tunnel, Calder knew they were still in Manhattan. Their exact location, she couldn't say. Nothing looked familiar. She hadn't kept track of landmarks or made a note of street signs.

Mentally, Calder kicked herself. If Destry were here, she would be livid. And her youngest sister would be right.

Always be aware of your surroundings. Never let your guard down. Women are vulnerable. Women with money? We have freaking targets on our backs.

Though Destry had better reason than Calder, Andi, or Bryce to be overly cautious, her words of warning applied to them all. The Benedict name meant a life of comfort and privilege. And—unfortunately—a certain amount of danger.

"You aren't kidnapping me. Are you?"

Now was hardly the time to ask. If Adam's motives were nefarious, Calder was already in trouble. She wasn't worried. Not really. Still…

"Seriously?" Adam smiled. However, when he looked into Calder's eyes, her slight concern must have come through. His expression turned thoughtful. "Has someone tried to kidnap you?"

Calder shrugged. She didn't share personal family business with anyone. Especially when the information concerned one of her sisters.

"You're safe with me. Always." Adam's gaze deepened into an intense blue. "I will never hurt you, Calder."

Foolish or not—Destry would fall on the side of foolish—Calder believed him.

"I don't expect you to trust me." Adam touched her cheek—ever so lightly. "Not now. Hopefully you will. When you know me better."

Calder didn't point out the obvious. Trust didn't happen overnight. She and Adam had barely entered phase one of something she refused to define. Relationships weren't her forte. Lovers she could handle—temporarily. Friends. Sure. Though she didn't have many of the male variety. None she would categorize as close.

Maybe Adam would be one of the few. Maybe not. Time would tell. Calder tightened her hand on Adam's arm. Trust—of a sort.

"For now, let's have dinner. I'm hungry." Cars lined the street. However, the building didn't inspire hope of culinary excellence. "Are you sure you have the right place?"

Without a word, Adam gave the door a firm rap. Whimsically, Calder expected a hidden window to open. Shadowed eyes. A whispered password. She had to admit she was a little disappointed when they were allowed to enter with little fanfare.

A large man sporting a goatee shook Adam's hand. His honey-colored skin was set off by a stark white shirt and an equally bright smile.

"Brother."

"Good to see you, Hisham." The handshake became a hug. "You look well."

"I am. As you would know if you came by more often."

"My days and nights aren't always my own."

"Business is good." A statement, not a question. Hisham's gaze moved to Calder. "Since you honored us with such a lovely lady to offset your ugly mug, all is forgiven."

The affection between the two men was hard to miss. Calder sensed a story. Another tale she hoped Adam would share.

"Calder Benedict. Meet Hisham Nader." Adam's introduction was simple. Then, as though he couldn't resist a dig at his friend, he added, "Don't believe a word he says. Hisham tends to exaggerate his charms."

"Why would I exaggerate when the facts support how wonderful I am?" Hisham spread his arms with a look at me pose.

Adam chuckled, shaking his head.

"Show us to our table before Calder wises up and asks me to take her somewhere the owner isn't such a fool."

Entertained by their banter, Calder took a moment to look around the restaurant. Square in design, she estimated the room contained close to thirty tables. Each filled to capacity. With so many people seated and enjoying lively conversations over amazing-looking food, she was surprised they didn't have to shout to be heard.

"The acoustics in here are unbelievable." Calder took her seat, her speaking voice at a normal pitch.

"Thanks to Adam, the walls are lined with the same stuff recording studios use." He raised Calder's hand to his lips. "Alas, I must leave you for now. But I will return. In the meantime, welcome to Journey's End. Enjoy your meal."

Calder sent Adam an enquiring look. Every clue to his profession was more confusing than the last.

"You soundproof rooms?"

"Not personally."

"I don't mind guessing games, Adam. If I have a chance to win." Calder sighed. "What is your profession?"

"For want of a better word? I'm a facilitator."

"Please tell me facilitator isn't a euphemism for pimp."

Adam let out a noise somewhere between a snort and a wheezing cough. He picked up his glass of water, downing half the contents in one cleansing gulp.

"Good God. The way your brain works."

"Seemed like a fair question." Calder didn't try to hide her smile. "I'll take your reaction as a no."

"Hell, no. And then some."

They were interrupted by their waiter. The woman had a job to do. Calder set aside her chagrin—for the moment—and ordered a glass of chardonnay.

"Beer for me, Layla. And an assortment of appetizers."

"Right." Layla batted her eyelashes—a move Calder hadn't seen outside a bad romantic comedy. "I know what you like."

"I've known her since we were kids," Adam explained.

"I didn't ask."

"You were curious."

"I suppose," Calder admitted. "One less Adam Stone mystery to contemplate from an ever-growing list."

"Mystery? Me?" Adam seemed genuinely perplexed. "I'm an open book."

"To the rest of the world? Maybe. To me? Like pulling teeth."

A spark of humor in his eyes, Adam waited while their drinks were delivered.

"I know a lot of people." He took a sip of his beer. "Interesting people. With interesting abilities."

Calder leaned perceptively closer.

"And…?" she urged.

"After I left the Navy, I—"

"Navy?" Now that she had him going, Calder hated to interrupt Adam's flow. But she had to ask. "When? How long?"

"Right out of high school. Five years. Hisham and I met during basic training. His dream was to take over his family's restaurant. After he saw the world."

"How much of the world can you see from a ship?"

"Not a lot," Adam conceded. "We had to wait for shore leave."

"Where you met the young woman and her incredibly flexible leg?"

Adam shrugged.

"I'll tell you about her—"

"Another time?"

"Exactly."

Calder had no one to blame but herself. Normally, she wanted to get from point A to point B in the shortest amount of time. Straight to the point. Not with Adam. She wanted to know everything. All at once. The journey had become jumbled. And a hell of a lot of fun.

"Where were we?" Apparently, Adam was as turned around as she was. And, if his smile was any indication, just as entertained.

"Hm." Calder paused, thinking. "Interesting people with interesting abilities."

"Unlike Hisham, I couldn't see my future. The Navy seemed like as good a place to look as any." Adam gazed at his half-full glass of beer. "In retrospect, not so much."

"Why?"

"The military wasn't a good fit. Don't get me wrong. I learned some things. Grew up quite a bit. Met great people. And some flat-out assholes."

When Calder laughed, Adam joined her.

"No matter where you go, assholes are impossible to avoid," she said.

The arrival of their appetizers came at a natural break in Adam's story. Calder filled her plate with stuffed mushrooms and reminded herself to leave room for the main course.

As she washed down a delicious bite with a cool mouthful of wine, she gently encouraged Adam to continue.

"You were what? Twenty-three when you left the Navy?"

"Around there." He nodded. "Unfortunately, for all my world travels, I came home the same way I left. At loose ends. Until I ran into my old friend Hisham."

Adam went on to explain. Hisham had taken over his family's restaurant. And ready to start some renovations. A fresh new look for a new generation. The biggest problem? For as long as he could remember customers complained about the noise. They couldn't talk to the person next to them without shouting.

"I knew a soundproofing specialist."

"One of your interesting friends with an interesting ability?"

"You did listen." Adam clinked his glass against Calder's.

"To every word."

Adam didn't comment. However, the look he gave her sent a burst of heat through Calder's veins.

"Hisham was so pleased with my recommendation, he wanted to pay me a finder's fee. I laughed off the idea. Just one friend helping another. I didn't give the incident a second thought. Until Hisham asked me to hook his cousin up with a reliable plumber. The cousin told his brother. The brother mentioned me to his wife. She told her book club."

"And a facilitator was born."

"Better than the living I make? I genuinely enjoy what I do."

Adam's contentment showed in the relaxed set of his shoulders and easy smile.

Delighted by his story and his company, Calder popped another mushroom into her mouth without thinking. Oh, well. If she couldn't finish her entrée, she'd take the leftovers home for the neighbor's cat.

"You're a very handsome man." Calder saw no reason to keep her opinion to herself. The truth was right in front of her. She liked looking. A lot. Why not let Adam know?

"Are you flirting with me again, Ms. Benedict?"

"I never stopped, Mr. Stone."

Candles flickered around them. A nice touch of romantic ambiance. Calder heartily approved. The muted light enveloped them like a cocoon. They could have been anywhere. At that moment as the conversation turned to talk about movies, music, television—the kinds of things people all over the world discussed on a first date—the other diners ceased to exist.

The bill paid, they said good night to Hisham. They had too much to say, too many questions to ask and answer. Rather than a stroll in companionable after-meal silence, they walked and talked through the restaurant. Across the street. To Adam's parked car.

"Kris Kristofferson."

"Really?"

"He's a genius.

"Your favorite songwriter is Kris Kristofferson?"

"Help Me Make It Through the Night. Me and Bobby McGee. For the Good Times." Calder ticked off the song titles with ease. "Listen to Jody and the Kid. I dare you not to tear up. I do. Every time."

"I'll download a copy. But I won't cry."

"Too manly?" Calder teased.

"Exactly."

Adam didn't stop by the passenger door. He walked until they were on the sidewalk, safe from traffic. With skill—and her cooperation—he maneuvered her until her back was flush with the car. Adam rested his hands on the roof, effectively trapping Calder between his outstretched arms. Their bodies remained inches apart. Not even their clothing brushed. Yet, the heat of him enveloped her. The whisper of his breath close to her ear sent a shiver of need across her skin.

Calder's fingers curled into a ball. Every instinct screamed to touch him. But if she started, she didn't know if she could stop.

"When I was a teenager, I wanted to own something fast, expensive, and foreign." Adam's lips brushed the sensitive curve of Calder's neck. She gasped with pleasure. "I closed my eyes. Imagined a hot car and a hotter woman draped over the hood."

Teenage fantasies were intense. And lasting. Calder had experienced a few of her own. The sidewalk was dimly lit. The foot traffic non-existent. If Adam wanted to fulfill a dream from his youth, she would gladly play her part.

"What did she have on?"

"Varied. Sometimes a tank top and pair of cutoffs. You know, with the frayed hem? Tight. Short. The kind that showed off her long, long legs."

Adam's kisses remained light as he peeled away the fabric of her jacket to expose more skin. Grateful for the two tons of solid steel at her back, Calder felt her bones melt.

"What did she wear the rest of the time?"

Against her shoulder, Calder felt Adam's lips curve upward.

"Nothing but a tan and a come and get me smile."

The sound of voices—not Adam's—broke through the building sexual haze he'd expertly weaved around her.

"Are they close?" Calder cared if someone saw them. Though not enough to lift her eyelids. She'd let Adam check the location of the unwanted intruders.

"Close enough."

Adam straightened. His sigh of regret echoed Calder's sentiments exactly.

"Fun's over."

"For now."

Cautiously, Calder shifted from one foot to the other. Four-inch heels and wobbly legs were a recipe for disaster. When she was certain she wouldn't land on her face, she let Adam help her into the car.

"We could go for a drink. Dancing. Or…" Adam let the car idle as he gazed at her through half-closed lids. "Did I mention my apartment is only a few blocks away?"

Calder felt a wave of genuine disappointment. Many times, a man had asked her back to his place at the end of a date. The last time she said yes? No idea. Over the years, she'd used every excuse in the book to say no. And then some. Tonight, when she had a legitimate reason, all she wanted was to say yes. The irony wasn't lost on her.

"If I didn't have an extra early plane to catch, I might ask you to show me your apartment."

"Business trip?"

Calder nodded. She watched as Adam linked his fingers with hers. She had quickly become a fan of his touch. Just the way his thumb caressed the back of her wrist was enough to make her long for a fogged-in airport.

"When will you be back?"

"Monday."

Adam's gaze rose from their linked hands to meet hers.

"Early enough for us to have dinner?"

"Sounds like a plan. Except I'll pick you up." Calder knew the perfect place. One of her favorites she was certain Adam would enjoy. "Dinner will be my treat."

"Okay. But I warn you. Just because you buy me a meal doesn't mean I'll put out."

With a wink, Adam glanced at the street before he eased his foot down on the gas. Laughing, Calder buckled her seatbelt. Whether he put out or not—her money was on a big, enthusiastic yes—she knew one thing. Monday couldn't get here soon enough.