In Your Arms: A Small Town Love Story (Safe Haven Book 1) (5 page)

He squeezed. Not enough to hurt, but a demonstration of strength and Marlo opened her hand, letting the brush fall to the sink. Her thrilled heart battered her chest. The initial burst of fright had been like a single startling firework. Bright and beautiful, gone before you could capture it.

Finger by finger he released his grip but his gaze kept her still. It swept briefly over the soapsuds speckled across his shirt front, then back to her. “I thought we were going to shower at the house.” His voice had a rough edge.

She looked to her wrist. Like a prisoner uncuffed, her fingers traced where he had held her. The skin still warm, tingly.

Looking up at him, her lips parted slightly. She couldn’t stop staring. His eyes were filled with warmth, a playful smile shaped his mouth, and nothing there frightened her. Wow. Staying right with it she reached into the lukewarm water and released the sink plug. The water gurgled down the drain. Her heart had steadied with her breath. “Give me a moment to wipe up and we’ll head to the house for that shower.”

5

A
few minutes
later they approached the house and were greeted by excited barking. “This is Fala, another rescue.”

Adam crouched to greet the dog. Fala sniffed him before sitting and leaning against him, her head resting on his thighs.

“Hey, Fala.” He gently rubbed her ears and the side of her muzzle. “Are there any more pretty females locked away in the house?” Fala’s tail thumped against the ground. Adam rubbed more vigorously; the tail accelerated its rhythmic beat on the dry earth. He stopped rubbing and the dog pushed her head back into his hand. “Ah, you like that, don’t you, old girl?” His voice was gentle and his hand moved back to the sensitive place, stroking her cheeks before they slid back and found the sweet spot behind her ears. “Yeah, that’s the spot. Up behind the ears and around the back of the neck. All the girls like that.”

Marlo shivered as if Adam was speaking to her, stroking her neck and soothing her. She looked at Fala again. The old dog was normally circumspect around strangers, but with Adam she had forged a quick connection. What was this guy doing to the females around the place? “Okay, let’s go.” Her voice caught in her throat. Any more of this and she would be panting as much as the dog. She set off for the house, expecting Adam and Fala to follow.

Entering through the mudroom, she kicked off her sports shoes and socks, pressing her feet onto the cool tiled floor. Inside was hotter than the summer day outside, and she moved about the house, flinging open windows and the sliding patio doors that turned the living room into a large open-plan area. Her shirt clung to her body and she was keen to shower.

Adam had followed her into the house and was close behind her, taking up way too much space. She cleared her throat. “You take first shower. Do you need washing stuff?”

He watched her for that long moment before answering. “Let me check the car. At the very least I should have a clean shirt in there.”

While Adam went to his car, Marlo hurried to the bathroom. She laid out a towel and washcloth and checked the shower for plenty of soap and shampoo. She heard him come back into the house and called to him but he was already coming up the hallway, and they practically collided at the bathroom door.

“Sorry,” she said as they bumped into each other, then both moved in the same direction again.

Laughing, he took her by both elbows and held her still. “Are we conserving water?”

She liked the supporting cup of his hands at her elbows and she fought the desire to lean slightly into him. Was she crazy? And did that conserving water in the shower thing mean the same in New Zealand as it did for her? She took a step away from him. “It’s okay,” she told him, “there’s plenty of water.”

“What a shame.” He teased, steering her out into the hallway and releasing her.

S
he was slicing
tomatoes when she heard him enter the kitchen. “Better?” she asked, keeping her focus on the knife.

“So much better. Thanks for that.”

She stole a quick glance. His wet hair looked volcanic, glossy like obsidian. And oh, hell, if that weren’t enough check out the cologne…and the more than six feet of man blocking any sunlight from reaching beyond him and up the hallway. He wore fresh clothes and looked, well, hard. All over. Except
there…
don’t look
there.

His feet were bare. Naked. It looked sexy and, yup, if a man with bare feet liquefied her insides, she needed to get out more.

Marlo put the knife on the board and wiped her hands on the legs of her jeans. “I’ll take my shower.” Her voice had pitched too high.

“Give me a job to do while you shower. I’m handy with a knife, vegetable peeling, chopping big things into little things—anything, really.”

She pointed to the knife. “You can keep working with this salad if you want. There’s beer in the fridge, so help yourself.” Without looking at him again she escaped up the hallway.

A
dam took a long
, thirst-quenching draw from the beer bottle. He was skilled with the knife, taught at an early age by a mother who had been of the opinion that men should not be redundant in the kitchen. His mind hurtled rather than wandered toward the image of Marlo taking her shower, the floral-scented suds skipping down that little body as she washed away the day’s grime. He acknowledged, then dismissed the image when he felt a stirring in his groin.

Something tickled his neck and when he reached up he found that the thin gold chain he wore was loose. He grasped it just as it slipped free. The wedding ring the chain had been threaded through dropped to the floor. He caught it with his foot as it bounced and rolled across the kitchen, stuffed the broken chain in his pocket and slipped the ring onto his finger.
So, Em, was that a message from afar to say you didn’t appreciate the carnal thoughts?

Since Emma had died, his sex life had been on a “need-to-go” basis, no emotional attachment, no morning-after, no promises. But that woman in the shower had given his feelings a good rattle.

Marlo had a careless grace and vulnerability that could be enticing if he allowed her in. Although she was adept at reading the body language and signals of the dogs, she appeared completely unaware that she constantly gave out clues about herself. His professional hunch was that she was suffering some sort of post-traumatic stress…but hey, wasn’t everyone these days?

Emma, on the other hand, had been confident. With none of Marlo’s grace, she was sturdy and dependable, and like him, born from generations of farming stock. Quick to laugh, with an open face and eyes that always filled with light, she never appeared vulnerable, and this was very likely a contributing factor to the reason Adam had been unable to protect her. Hard to defend someone who doesn’t have an enemy—but, he hadn’t considered he had enemies, either.

“Are you ready for some more chopping?”

He swung around. Oh, brother, she looked amazing. When he went to speak he hoped his voice would cooperate. “Wow, look at you! You look gorgeous.”

She glanced at the door as color tinged her cheeks. “Thanks…ah…I’ll pick us some salad herbs.”

Good, while you’re doing that, I’ll grab some self-control.

Through the large kitchen windows, Adam watched Marlo choose herbs from the garden. She’d wound her damp hair into a haphazard knot that begged to be loosened. He was certain she was unaware of how transparent her dress became when backlit by the late afternoon sun. How it broadcast that she’d taken care choosing her underwear. Her sports bra was replaced with something more…uplifting, which, dammit, was lifting more than her breasts. His cock stirred insistently this time. The algebra distraction he’d employed when Marlo showered had no lasting effect and he decided to progress to calculus. If that didn’t talk it down, he’d have to agree that math was sexy and move on to something more numbing. Except, he’d been numb for so long, he really wanted to stick with the thaw for a while.

A
bout twenty staff and volunteers
, along with an assortment of dogs, had gathered in the large courtyard. Outside were tables and seating, with another dining area indoors.

Marlo explained, “Basically, this is part of the communal living area. It’s modeled like a hostel or backpacker’s accommodation. Anyone wanting more privacy can rent cabins which are self-contained. Most tend to congregate here in the evenings.”

Lulah joined them, trailed closely by a small blue-and-white pit bull. “Calliope, say hello to Adam.” The dog sat and held a paw up.

Adam crouched and took the paw. “Pleased to meet you, Calliope.”

“Is Vince here?” Marlo asked, looking around.

“No, he’s had to go away for a couple of days so Calliope is staying with me.” Lulah bent and gave the dog a scratch. “Miss your daddy, don’t you, little girl?”

“Is he okay?” Marlo asked

Lulah shrugged. “I guess not. Something triggered him to head for the hills. He turned up yesterday evening looking all jumpy and handed me Calliope’s leash without a word. He gets this kind of pleading look, like he’s begging me not to question him. He gives Calliope a kiss on the head and walks off. He was carrying a pack; I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Marlo sighed. “Until the next episode. Do you think they’re happening more often? He needs to get help.”

“Oh, good luck with getting him down that road. Marine, remember?”

“Are you scared of this guy?” Adam asked.

Lulah laughed, shaking her head. “No, not at all. But Marlo used to be.” She gave her a nudge.

Adam turned to Marlo. “Why? Did he do something?”

“Yeah, he had the nerve to turn up here looking
all
hot.
” Lulah was fanning her face with her fingers. “Didn’t he, Marlo?”

“Those tattoos are…intimidating.”

“Stereotyping, much?” Lulah teased.

“They look menacing.”

“Hot,” Lulah repeated.

“Lulah!” Marlo could feel her cheeks flaming. Although it seemed silly now, Vince had scared her a bit, at first. He was all broody silence and dark stares. Boy, was she relieved when Lulah made a breakthrough with him.

Adam cut in. “Have you had him checked out?”

“Lulah’s checked Vince out, haven’t you, Lulah?”

She grinned. “I’m not apologizing. Like I said, the dude looks hot, I like to look.”

Marlo’s eyes widened.

“What?” said Lulah. “Scoping a hot body’s not only for the guys, you know.”

Adam raised a hand and grinned. “Okay, let me put that another way. Have you done a background check on Vince? Marlo found him intimidating. He’s a Marine prone to anxiety attacks. Is he flipping out? Was he deployed? Does he have PTSD? He’s big, strong—and has a hot body—that’s for you, Lulah.”

There was a rapid tick in her chest. Adam’s probably right; she should have checked to see if they knew anything about Vince. They weren’t always stringent about checks on volunteers. Some people slipped through. “I’ll see if we’ve got something in the files. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Get him checked out. At least know what you’re dealing with—anger, depression, fear, trauma. He might not be dangerous, but the guy clearly needs help.” Adam turned to Lulah. “So, Calliope is Vince’s dog, right?”

Lulah nodded, “Yes.”

“How is she when he’s gone?”

“Huh,” Lulah’s mouth quirked. “No one’s ever asked that before. We’ve always been so worried about Vince. How is Calliope? Calliope is concerned when Vince goes off. She’s edgy, she settles but she doesn’t relax. She keeps one eye on the door, even when she’s sleeping. Calliope is very good at not making trouble, not appearing to be neurotic, but she’s certainly unnerved when Vince leaves her.”

“When he needs to go into the wilderness, Vince should take Calliope with him. There’s plenty of research out there that suggests they can help each other. I don’t know…there’s probably a bit of training on the dog’s part that needs to happen, but if you want to help this guy, that’s a direction you might want to take. ”

Marlo was amazed by Adam’s reading of the situation. “Nice insight, thank you.” He was new on the scene yet took the care to look a bit deeper at what they were doing. Did he have experience with the dynamics of a human/dog relationship? Did he have an understanding of the way a dog can help heal a person?

Lulah took the salad from Adam. “I’ll put this with the other food.”

When she was out of earshot Adam asked, “Is Vince Lulah’s boyfriend?”

Marlo shook her head. “Vince helps out around here when he can. It’s pretty informal because he can’t quite hold things together, yet. When his demons come for him he has this need to disappear. You know, Lulah’s so vibrant and fun, yet she has this calming effect on the more edgy people who pass through. It’s all cool.” She smiled. “Come on, grab a drink and I’ll introduce you to Jeff, our veterinarian.”

She left Adam and Jeff outside, each cradling a beer, and made her way to the kitchen. Her friend Sally was in there, pulling together a meal in that way she had of making the chore seem effortless. It was her efficiency that helped her keep her job as Jeff’s technician, but today Sally seemed to be deliberately avoiding him. Her study for a diploma in Animal Homeopathy could sometimes be a contentious issue between the vet and his right-hand assistant.

“Jeff’s glass looks empty. Do you want to take him another beer?” Marlo asked Sally.

Sally shook her head. “No. If
I
take him a beer he’ll want a soda.”

“Ah, you’ve done it again, haven’t you?” Sally struggled to stop herself from offering Jeff’s clients additional advice, or, as Jeff put it; pushing her witch’s potions on the unwary.

Sally shrugged. “Maybe.”

“What this time?”

“Thunder. A guy brought his dog in who was scared of thunder. Homeopathic remedies are brilliant for that sort of thing.”

“Heck, Sal, you’ll lose your job. You’ve already had a warning.”

“I know, I’m trying, okay?”

“Why not take him a beer. Get back in his good books.”

Sally rolled her eyes. “His legs aren’t painted on. He can do his own bar work. I’m busy with this bread.” She carried on filling a basket with hot rolls from the oven and when she was done, she straightened to put the basket on the bench. “He watches you all the time, you know.”

Marlo paused. “Who? Adam?”

“No, Santa Claus. Who do you think?”

Marlo concentrated on measuring oil into the bowl where she was making vinaigrette.

Sally took the oil bottle from her before lowering her head a little to get right in her face. “I bet that right now, if you cast a sultry glance Adam’s way, you’ll catch his eye.”

Marlo shifted slightly and began whisking the dressing.

“Go on,” Sally insisted, “prove me wrong.”

She had nothing to prove, because there wasn’t anything going on between her and Adam, was there? On the other hand, perhaps Sally was right. If Adam watched her all the time, maybe he was interested. She shook off the bad feeling that the prospect of turning into a perpetual dreamer gave her.
I am not my mother.
But she was curious, now.

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