“Three years.”
“Now you’re back.”
“I’m back.”
“For good?”
She considered, then shrugged. “Who can ever know for certain?”
That same restless energy had been there the last time she’d been in Good Hope. Charlotte had big city written all over her.
Perhaps that’s why he was with her now. He could give in to his attraction without worrying about hidden expectations. Despite being thirty-seven and feeling pressure from all sides to “settle down,” Adam was satisfied with his life.
That could change tomorrow or next week or next year. But right now, he wasn’t seized with an urgency to find “the one”—if that woman even existed. As an organic farmer, this was his busy season. He didn’t have time for a relationship.
Adam gave her shoulder a bump. “Where are we headed?”
Charlotte stopped on the sidewalk at the edge of the square. A smile had her rosy lips tilting upward. “We?”
Adam pointed to her, then back to himself. “You and me equal we.”
She gave a toss of her head that had blonde hair rippling down her back. “That’s lame.”
“That’s me.”
“You’re not lame.” She chuckled and looped her arm through his. “You’re wily.”
“You’re just as beautiful as you were three years ago.”
Those vivid blue eyes turned skeptical. “Hey.”
He lifted his hands. “A guy known for being lame doesn’t lie.”
She laughed. “This is exactly how I remember you being that night.”
Adam didn’t ask her to specify what night. With them, there had been only one night. He hadn’t forgotten it. Apparently, neither had Charlotte.
“Charming as well as lame?”
Cocking her head, she studied him for a long moment. As their gazes locked for those few seconds, it felt the way it had back then. So unexpectedly fun and easy. Everything else faded into the background.
“Walk with me up to my apartment,” she said finally, holding the caricature and breaking the connection. “I don’t want to carry this around all night.”
Would she be interested in spending the evening with him since her friend had left? Adam didn’t ask. Either it would happen, or it wouldn’t. He was a great believer in taking things as they came.
For now, he was enjoying her company. That was enough.
Her apartment was a one-bedroom unit over Blooms Bake Shop. They entered via a door in the back. Despite all the activity on Main Street, this area was deserted.
Adam glanced around while Charlotte fumbled with the lock.
“Do you ever feel unsafe?” He thought about how easy it would be for someone to sneak up behind her.
“Got it.” She glanced back in surprise as the door swung open. “Unsafe?”
He followed her into the narrow vestibule, making sure the door caught and locked behind them. No reason to give someone an invitation to explore the inside.
“In Good Hope?” She shot him a disbelieving look, then started up the stairs. “Get real.”
“When I was about six, my mom and I lived in a small town.” He spoke to her backside as they climbed the steps, trying to push the unwanted memories aside so he could enjoy the view. “Our house was on the main drag, just down from the business district. If you could call a bar and a post office the business district.”
“Sounds like a great place.”
“It was okay.” The memories of that night pushed against him. “There was no sidewalk, only a ditch in front of our house. The road was narrow, so she always parked around back. It was really dark.”
Charlotte reached the top of the stairs and unlocked this door without difficulty.
Adam stepped inside after her, his story forgotten. “This is nice.”
Although small, the apartment had an open floor plan. From where he stood, he could practically see the whole space.
The galley kitchen had a small, white lacquer dinette table with multicolored flowers painted across the top. The bright yellow of the kitchen wall matched the color of the flowers on the white curtains, which were held back from the window with fork tiebacks.
The floor was a shiny hardwood and the living room furniture made for comfort. Off to the right was a hallway that he assumed led to a bedroom and bath.
Charlotte carefully placed the caricature on the kitchen table, then turned in a semicircle as if seeing the place for the first time. “Good enough for now.”
The comment didn’t do justice to the apartment, but he let it go. His place, a rambling farmhouse that had once been described by a woman he’d dated as “shabby chic,” suited him just fine. Though he and Stan both liked a clean and well-kept house, their home was one where you felt okay about putting your feet up after a long day.
“Tell me the rest of the story.” Charlotte stepped to him, the light scent of her perfume wrapping around him. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
The perfume might be light and fresh, but her voice had that sultry edge that spoke of tangled sheets and sweat-soaked bodies. Or maybe that was just him resurrecting memories that might be best left buried. Of her and him and—
“Adam.”
The punch to his bicep had him blinking. “What?”
“You were telling me about when you and your mom lived in a small town.”
“Oh, it’s not that interesting. My mom worked evenings at the bar just a couple of doors down from where we lived. We didn’t have much money, and a sitter would have been hard to find, so I stayed home alone while she worked.”
“You said you were six.”
“I was.” The shocked look in her eyes had him adding, “I was a very responsible child.”
“Still—”
“Anyway, my mom came home one night.” Adam cut Charlotte off, not giving her a chance to voice her disapproval. “She’d closed up the place, so it was later than usual.”
Charlotte touched his arm. “I sense something bad coming.”
“A guy who’d been at the bar had followed her home. I heard her screaming.”
Her mouth formed a perfect O.
“Don’t worry. This story has a happy ending.” Despite his outward calm, he felt his heart pick up speed. “My baseball bat was by the back door. I hit him with it.”
“Did you hurt him?”
“I was six,” he reminded her. “A kindergartner hitting a man in the ribs with a bat doesn’t pack the wallop of someone older. The hit kept him down long enough for the police to come and haul him away.”
“All’s well that ends well,” she said lightly.
Adam nodded. “My mom thought living in a small town would be better for me. I could have a yard to play in, and she talked about getting me a bike. While rent was cheaper, jobs were limited, and she could only find part-time work. Not to mention there wasn’t much of a night life. After this incident, we moved back to the city.”
“Were you sad you had to move?”
Adam shook his head. “I didn’t care. We moved a lot. I never got too attached to anywhere I lived.”
Thankfully, when his mother had married Stan, all that had changed. Stan might technically be his stepdad but he was the only father Adam had ever known.