The Reasons to Stay (Harlequin Superromance) (18 page)

She pushed away, sitting up on the edge of the couch. “Are you kidding? Nothing about what we just did was weak.” She pasted on a sexy smile.

His eyes still held a shadow of dark power. “I wasn’t talking about the sex.”

* * *

A
DAM
WATCHED
P
RISS
’
S
jerky movements as she finger-combed her hair, knowing she was off balance and ready to run. He didn’t want to take a chance—didn’t want to push her.

But the month of June was barreling from the future and before he was ready it would roll into the present. Then she’d be gone. He cupped a hand around her thigh, rubbing the satin skin at the inside of her knee in a calming, circular motion. “Tell me about your dad.”

Frowning, she cocked her head and looked at him as if he’d asked the distance to the moon. “I never met the man. He was long gone by the time I was born.”

“How about Nacho’s dad?”

“He’s in prison.” She scooted farther away. “Why are you always digging around, trying to find out stuff?”

He shot a look at the ceiling. “Maybe you couldn’t tell from the past half hour, but I’m interested in you. Very interested in you.”

“Sex doesn’t require—”

“Jesus, Priss!” The frustration that had fizzed for weeks exploded, propelling the words. “Do you really think that all I want from you is sex?”

She stood, and straightened her sex-rumpled clothes. “I told you that I don’t stay. I keep things light.”

“Yeah, you did. But why can’t we get to know each other in the meantime?”

She glanced around. “Where’s the bathroom?”

You’ve lost her.
He pointed to the hall next to the arched doorway to the kitchen. An inky cloud of failure spread through his brain.

The rock walls of Priss’s heart had no handholds.

And he wore no safety harness.

Think, dammit.

Priss was all about keeping score. Tit for tat.
Maybe...

He stood and walked to the mantel.

“Well, I’ve got to get back.” Her voice came from behind.

He fingered one of the many trophies his mother kept proudly displayed. “Did I ever tell you that I had the chance to pitch for the Angels?”

Her step was soft. “Really?” She read the base of a trophy three down from where he stood.

“That one’s from college. I got a full-ride scholarship.” He leaned his elbow on the mantel, trying for a nonchalance that was far from the truth that scurried in panic, wanting to stay buried.

“Did you get hurt?”

Well, kinda.
“No, not really.”

“Then why don’t I know your stats?”

He lifted a photo, pretending to study it. Him, on the mound, throwing a fastball. When the frame creaked, he forced his fingers to loosen a bit. “See, there are home games and away games.” He looked up at her. “And for the away games...teams fly to them.”

“Oh.” Her brows came together and her mouth pursed as if she’d felt a stab of pain.

“I thought I could do it. I never would have taken the job if I hadn’t been sure I could do it.” He took a breath. “Turns out, I was wrong.

“The past shapes who we are today.” He set the picture back on the mantel and turned to Priss. “What made you so independent? So fierce?”

If she’d explain, maybe he could understand—maybe he could learn. Not only about her, but about courage. When she crossed the room, he thought she was leaving. She sat on the couch instead. He let out the breath he held and sat at the other end.

“I was about Nacho’s age when Social Services found out that Mom left me home alone nights while she worked. In their infinite wisdom, they decided they could do better.” She snorted. “Suffice it to say, they were full of shit. When Mom finally got a day job, she came and bailed me out of the system.”

She sat ramrod straight, both feet on the floor, hands in her lap like a manners-school student. She looked like one of those china figurines his mom had all over her house—beautiful, fragile.

“I decided then that I was never going to depend on anyone else again—not even my mom. I took charge. I kept the apartment spotless just in case the social worker showed up to check on us. I took over the checkbook. Made sure the debts were paid.” Her index finger picked at the cuticle of her thumb. “But without the tips Mom earned at the bar, there wasn’t enough money to pay all the bills. So eventually she had to go back to working nights.”

“Did the county find out?”

“I found a lady living in her car. She had some issues but she was nice, just down and out. I made her a deal. She could move in but she had to be there at night.” She raised her hands, palm up. “Problem solved.”

He shook his head, trying to imagine her at Nacho’s age, manipulating the world to find a safe corner for herself. “No wonder you couldn’t leave Nacho behind.” He whispered, more to himself than to her.

She reached into the collar of her shirt and pulled out her phone and checked the time. “It’s getting late. You’ve got a house to clean and I’ve got to get to the grocery store before picking up Nacho.” She hopped up.

He stood and took her hand. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me, too.” She ducked her head but not before he caught her blush.

He lifted her chin and gave her a chaste kiss. “Do you and Nacho like barbecue? Because I have a couple of friends coming for dinner tonight. I’d love for you to meet them.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

H
E
STEPPED
INTO
the living room, the old-house smell in his nose, listening to a clock somewhere tick into the silence.

“Adam?” Chip bags crackling, Priss stepped in behind him.

Though he knew it was too late to get out of the dinner at Adam’s place, he had to try. “I don’t see why I couldn’t stay home.”

Priss’s hand on his back propelled him forward. “You were at Bear’s all day. If you want to go after school tomorrow, you’re going to be civil tonight. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. But I still don’t see—”

“Look, I know this isn’t your thing. But could you just make the best of it? For me?”

He frowned, glancing around the living room.

“You behave, I’ll read you a chapter of Harry Potter tonight. Deal?”

“Yeah, okay.”

She ruffled his hair. “Thanks, dude, I appreciate it.”

A screen door slapped, he heard steps, then Adam walked through a doorway into the living room.

“Hey, Nacho.” But his eyes were on Priss. “Hello, Priss.” His voice went all funny. Might as well have hearts coming out of his head, like on little-kid cartoons.

Nacho was already tired of watching them watch each other. “Do you have a TV?”

They looked surprised, like they’d forgotten he was there.

Adam said, “Yeah, sure. You can watch it if it’s okay with Priss.”

“I’m going to help Adam get ready. You can watch TV until his guests arrive. Then you have to come out and be social. Deal?”

“I guess.”

“Carley and Daryl have two kids. You might like them, Nacho. Tanner is just a year older than you, and Penny, the girl, is a bit younger. They’ll be here in about an hour. In the meantime, follow me.”

They’re probably little yuppie clones.

Adam led the way down a narrow hall covered in old photos and turned in at a room with a big desk, bookshelves and a leather couch.

And on the wall next to the door hung a huge flat-screen TV.

“Way cool.” He’d seen these in the stores but had never had the chance to watch one.

“You can sit on the couch and watch whatever you want.” Adam handed him a remote. “But don’t mess with anything in here. And keep your feet off the couch. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” He hit the power button.
Like I’m going to steal the furniture?

When Adam walked out, Nacho jumped, kicking out his feet from under him to land lying on the couch. He crossed one foot over the other on the padded arm of the sofa and started surfing channels. He really missed TV. This night might not be a total waste of time after all.

Ten minutes later, bored with the NASCAR race, he clicked off the TV. He’d forgotten how sucky Sunday-afternoon TV was. Besides, the stuff on the race cars was just decals, not real art.

The hours at Bear’s had gone way too fast. He didn’t get to actually do anything, but that was okay because he got to watch Bear lay down the base coat for a new design: a cobra on the hood of an old Mustang. Bear explained what he was doing and why, and he even showed him how the sprayers worked.

Nacho glanced at the bookshelves, wondering if maybe Adam had
The Chamber of Secrets.
Even grown-ups read Harry Potter. He stood up and walked closer to read the spines. He should have known—nothing but medical books. What else would a boring pharmacist have? He walked around the desk and sat in the leather rolling chair. Everything on the desk was laid out just perfect. Even the loose papers were stacked in a neat pile in a leather inbox.

Man, this guy’s underwear is too tight.

Adam and Priss were obviously crushing on each other. What did that mean for the kid in the middle? In spite of the bike offer, the jury was still out on this guy. He seemed to be trying but maybe he was just doing it to suck up to Priss.

Nacho lifted a stack of brochures from the desktop, drawn by the bright bird on the top one. He remembered his teacher called it a toucan. He’d forgotten where they were from, but it wasn’t the U.S. He undid the rubber band and looked through the pamphlets, one by one. South America, Rome, China. Tahiti looked the best. How fun would it be to play on that beach?

“What are you doing?” Priss stood in the doorway.

He jumped and the brochures fell out of his hand onto the desk. “I was just looking.”

She stepped in, hand on hip, looking pissed. “Did Adam say it was okay to go through his stuff?”

“No. But I saw the toucan, and—”

“Where’d you go?” Adam stepped into the doorway. “What the hell?” He hurried over and snatched the brochures from the floor.

All except the toucan one. Priss bent, picked it up and handed it to Adam. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“I trusted you in here.” Adam looked all embarrassed, like he’d just farted out loud or something.

Nacho looked between Priss and Adam, wondering why they were so mad. Sure, he shouldn’t have been snooping but it wasn’t like he found a stash of skin mags or something. “I didn’t look at anything else—we’re studying toucans in school. That’s all.”

Priss said, “Adam, it’s just brochures. No big deal.”

His face said otherwise. “The Beauchamps are here.” Adam turned and walked out.

Priss grabbed Nacho’s wrist. “You promised to behave. You and I are going to talk about this later.”

Shit. There goes my time with Bear tomorrow.

He’d never get grown-ups.

* * *

P
RISS
SAT
AT
a picnic table in Adam’s neatly trimmed backyard, a full plate in front of her. The bacon cheeseburger was good but her stomach was too tight to take on much.

God, she could have died when she caught Nacho going through Adam’s travel brochures. Would the next eight years be like this, Nacho bumbling from one disaster to another? If so, she didn’t think she could take it
.

I’m
so not cut out for this.

Nacho picked at his food at the kids’ table. He sat with the other boy and the little girl but was as separate as a cold moon from shiny stars. Though he and Tanner were only a year apart, they couldn’t be more different—Nacho’s gangsta-rap style to Tanner’s early Justin Bieber. Even four-year-old Penny seemed wary, watching Nacho out of the corner of her eye between bites.

A needle of sympathy pricked the annoyed part of Priss’s brain. The kid looked so miserable. And after all, he had no way of knowing that the brochures would be something Adam would want to keep private.

“So what do you do, Priss?” Carley asked, beer in hand.

Here we go.
“I’m usually an admin assistant. But it’s tough to find office jobs here so I’m bartending at the moment.”

Carley swallowed a sip of beer. “I don’t know if Adam told you, but I work in the office of the elementary school. I’ll keep an eye out for any openings.”

Adam’s friend seemed nice, in spite of the cashmere sweater tied around her shoulders and the expensive blond tint woven into her shoulder-length hair. “Thanks, but we won’t be here much longer.”

“Oh. Where are you going?” She shot a look at Adam.

“Nacho and I haven’t decided yet but we’ll leave after school’s out.”

Daryl looked up from his baked beans. “Don’t you like Widow’s Grove?”

Adam’s focus was on his plate, but something in the tilt of his head told her he was listening. Hard.

“It’s a great town. It’s just that I tend to... I mean we, Nacho and I, are going to see more of the United States. Maybe Seattle next.”

“You know they have terrible weather,” Carley said. “Rains incessantly.”

Priss looked down the table to where Adam pushed the potato salad around his plate.
Oh, way to go, Hart. Just blurt out what’s in your head. Will I ever learn?

Carley addressed the kids’ table. “Penny, mind your plate. Tanner, help her cut that, will you?”

Apparently that line of conversation was over. Good.

After dinner, Adam and Daryl tossed a football around with the boys. Well, with Tanner, anyway. After ten minutes, Nacho wandered off to hunker down next to Penny, playing in the flower-bed dirt with a toy shovel.

Carley and Priss watched them through the window over the kitchen sink where they washed dishes.

“You’d never met your half brother before you came here?” Carley handed Priss a stainless-steel bowl to dry.

“No. My mother and I were...estranged.”

“I can’t imagine not having family. My parents had ten siblings between them, and I’ve got four sisters and a brother. Honestly, I’ve lost count how many shirttail relatives I’ve got scattered across the country. We’re like rabbits.”

Priss placed the bowl on the counter then reached for the glass baking dish Carley held out. “I can’t imagine having that much family. Gives me the willies just thinking about it.” Remembering her vow to work on being more politically correct, she smiled to soften her words.

“Yeah, Adam told me that you were kind of a loner. Independent to a fault.”

Apparently I’m not the only direct person in this town.
Priss focused on the dish, but not because it was fragile. “It’s the ‘fault’ part that he stressed, I’m sure.”

“On the contrary. He admires the hell out of you. Says you’re the—” she looked at the ceiling, searching for the words “—bravest, scrappiest, most steadfast person he’s ever met.” Her hands stilled in the dishwater. “And though you’re as far from his type as humanly possible, I think you’re good for him. I’ve seen changes in Adam lately. It’s like he’s finally coming to life. And I think you’re the cause.”

Priss flushed under Carley’s studied regard.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

Priss opened her mouth to explain—to tell Carley she’d been up front from the beginning. Then she closed it. Well-intentioned or not, she didn’t owe this woman an explanation.

But for the first time in years, Priss wanted to.

Part of the reason she’d always rested lightly on whatever branch she settled on was to avoid explanations. She didn’t need others’ judgments and opinions. Especially someone she’d just met. Priss locked her jaw to keep the words in and took the next mixing bowl from Carley’s wet hands.

It was good that she and Nacho were leaving. What was it about this town that made her wish to be different from the way she was? The lessons she’d learned at a young age had kept her safe for all these years.

And they would keep her and Nacho safe for years to come, wherever they landed.

A half hour later, they all stood in the living room saying their goodbyes. Adam’s arm felt right around her waist, as did his hand resting on her hip. It was almost as if she and Nacho lived here and were saying goodbye to their dinner guests. Then she and Adam would finish cleaning up, see that Nacho had a bath, and they’d walk arm in arm to the master bedroom....

“I’ll see you at practice on Wednesday night, Adam. We’ll be ready for those Pismo Punks on Saturday.” Daryl lifted his car keys from the little antique table next to the door. “Now that’s odd.”

Carley, who was herding her kids out the door, turned. “What?”

“My Peace Dollar. It’s gone.”

“Your what?” Priss asked.

He stood staring at his key chain. “My dad was a coin collector. He gave me a 1921 Peace Dollar when I was a kid. I drilled a hole in it, and have carried it on my key chain for years. It’s not worth anything except the price of the silver, but it means a lot to me.” He looked up. “I know it was there when I came in, because Penny noticed it, driving over here.”

Priss scrutinized Nacho’s expression.

He glared back. “I didn’t do it.”

His face was closed and sullen but she glimpsed truth behind the mask. He hadn’t done it. This time.

Adam said, “Nacho, if you were looking at it, and—”

“He didn’t do it, Adam.” She couldn’t say what had changed. Maybe she was developing that mother’s instinct—but she knew she was right. She put her hand on Nacho’s shoulder.

No one moved.

Adam’s expression was as careful as his words. “Priss, remember outside the store that day? You said then that Nacho hadn’t—”

“I know.” A timeworn weariness seeped into the hollow of her bones, weighing her down. “And you were right. Then. But I know Nacho better now, and I’m telling you, he didn’t do it.”

“You wanna frisk me?” Nacho spit out the words and turned out the pockets of his jeans. He had to grab for the waistband when the pants slipped off his hips.

Carley whispered to Tanner and they started looking, scanning the carpet, checking under the couch.

“Of course not.” Adam flushed. “But I didn’t take it and Priss didn’t. It belonged to the Beauchamps, so...”

Priss didn’t have the answer as to what had happened to the coin but she knew that Nacho wasn’t it. She sighed. “So, of course you blame the delinquent, right?” She held up a hand to stop Adam’s sputtering protest. “I’m not accusing you. Just stating a fact.”

Carley shrugged and said, “It’s not in the living room. Maybe we can try the kitchen?”

Priss slipped her hand around her brother’s shoulders. “Let’s go, Nacho. Nice meeting you all. Sorry the evening had to end this way.”

The crowd parted for them when they headed for the door.

Nacho didn’t shrug out from under her arm until they reached Mona, parked in the driveway with Adam’s bike in the backseat. When they got in, he turned to look her in the eye. “I didn’t take that guy’s dollar.”

“I know you didn’t.” She sent a prayer skyward then turned the key. Thankfully Mona rumbled to life. She put a hand behind the seat to look over her shoulder and negotiate backing down the two concrete strips that constituted the driveway. “But are you surprised Adam thought you had?” At the bottom, she checked for traffic, pulled out and headed for home.

Head down, Nacho mumbled, “No.”

“Remember when we talked about being careful with your reputation? This is what I was trying to tell you. This is where you pay.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

They rode in silence, each to their own thoughts.

Adam wouldn’t have looked at us if it weren’t for the problems at the very beginning.