Broken (17 page)

“The bow of your lips is…perfect.” I ran my fingertips over his mouth and he kissed each one lightly. “You're perfect.”

“Come here.” He pulled me into him until we were snuggled together, my head resting on his chest.

“Your heart sounds like it's tap dancin' in your chest.” I tapped out the haphazard beat with my fingers.

He stilled my hand, holding it in his. “It must be because you're so close. You make my heart skip a beat.”

My inner vixen had been released and I couldn't get enough of Adam. Sitting by the window, watching him paint my portrait had my hormones going into overdrive, as I recalled our most recent all-night session. I had convinced him that if I had to be naked with just a sheet draped strategically over my lap, then it was only fair that he painted in the nude. Of course it didn't take a great deal of convincing, and it did give me a distraction to help the time go faster. Once the light had passed and I became fidgety, Adam put down his tools and swept me up into his arms, carrying me back over to the bed.

I still hadn't finished the book, but it seemed less and less important as we spent leisurely days entwined together. We also hadn't been going for our morning swim; the weather had peaked at its coldest, and most mornings were drizzling or snowing.

Waking to the sun streaming in had become a rare occurrence, so on one particular morning when the sky was clear, Adam decided to renew his health kick and venture out. Max wasn't keen. He poked his head out the door and turned back into his warm bed, but Adam called him outside repeatedly until he reluctantly obeyed.

Sitting in my little spot by the window, I watched Adam and Max start their morning with a brisk run along the sand. I could watch Adam for hours—taking in every detail of his face and the stubble that was quickly growing back into a beard. His body was perfection in my eyes, and one of my favorite things to do was shower with him so I could slide my soapy hands all over his lean muscles.

They ran to the lighthouse rocks and back before stripping off for a quick dip in the icy water. Adam had pouted when I'd refused to join him, but there was no way I was going out there and catching pneumonia. As Adam ran back up the beach fifteen minutes later, he was shivering, his lips blue. He huddled in a ball, his towel pulled tightly around him as he tried to get warm.

Throwing on the first clothes I could find on the floor, I raced outside with the quilt from the bed and draped it over him. He was frozen, his body trembling, his skin covered in goose bumps. I ushered him inside and straight into the bathroom where I ran a warm shower, slowly increasing the temperature until it was hot and he had thawed out.

“Please don't do that again, Sugar. I don't wanna have to call your family to tell 'em you've died from hypothermia.”

He looked at me sheepishly. “Okay, no more morning swims. I promise.”

But it was too late. As Adam tried to paint and go about his normal routine while I finished off my manuscript, his eyes were clouding over, and he was lethargic.

“Why don't ya have a rest, babe?” I suggested when he slumped onto the sofa, his muscles weak and aching.

Shaking his head, he dragged himself up and back into the bedroom. “I want to do a bit more on your portrait.”

Removing my glasses, I rubbed my eyes while debating what to do. When Charles had been sick, he had been such a big baby, always wanting to be taken care of. Finally, I decided to talk Adam into having a sleep. He needed rest if he was going to get better.

“Hey, babe, why don't you…”

He wasn't painting. He was on the floor, slumped against the wall with his head in hands.

“Oh my God, Adam, are you okay?” I knew it was a silly question. Of course he wasn't okay—he was sick and getting sicker by the minute. Rushing over to sit on the floor beside him, I stroked his arm.

“I'm fine, Evie, just got a bit dizzy, that's all.” He patted my hand, then went to stand, faltered, and ended up back on the floor.

“Lemme help you.” Standing, I reached down to take his hands and help him up.

“I said I'm fine. I can get up by myself,” he grumbled.

Well that was out of character, but then some people did get grumpy when they were sick.

“I reckon you should lie down, have a little nap.”

He glared at me, and I took a step back. I hadn't seen this side of Adam before, and to be honest, I didn't like it. Charles had been almost childlike when he was ill, wanting me to mother him. I wasn't used to being pushed away when I was only trying to help.

“Sorry,” he said, unconvincingly. “I might go back to my house. I don't want you to catch whatever this is.”

Managing to stand after quite a bit of effort, he left without so much as a goodbye.

“I'll come check on you later, then,” I called after him.

He waved his hand in the air in acknowledgement, but didn't bother to turn around.

I left him to rest, but he was always in the back of my mind. Finally when I couldn't concentrate on writing because I was too worried about Adam, I threw on my coat and went to visit.

He looked terrible when he opened the door, and although the house was hot with the fire blazing and the heating turned up high, he was wrapped in a blanket and shivering.

“Oh, Sugar, you've got a bad dose of the flu.” I led him over to the sofa, which was surrounded by discarded tissues, and tucked the blanket around him. “Can I get you some soup? Why don't I go to the drugstore and get you some flu medicine?”

He shook his head. “I'm fine.”

I sat beside him, placing my hand on his clammy forehead. “You're burnin' up. I can get you somethin' for that. It won't take long.”

“I said I'm fine,” he snapped.

“You ain't fine, Adam. You're sick as a dog. Lemme help you.” I fluffed the blanket again, trying to make him more comfortable. “I'll go get you some medicine. I'll be right back.”

“I'm not an invalid, Evie. I don't need you fussing. Just leave me be. Go write something and let me rest.”

“Really, Adam, I don't mind a bit. I can see how sick you are.” I stood, pulling my coat tighter around me as I prepared to go back out into the cold. I knew some men liked to put on a brave face but they were all little boys at heart. Once I came back with supplies, he'd be thanking me for not taking no for an answer.

“I said leave me alone, Evie. I don't need your help. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

I stood frozen to the spot, uncertain what to do next. Was he really pushing me away, refusing my help? “Are you sure?” I asked, needing clarification one last time. If he showed any hint that this was some macho act, I'd be running straight down to the drugstore for him.

“Humph,” he grunted. “Please go.”

So this was it. He didn't want me around. “If you need anythin'—”

“I don't need anything,” he barked, and I balked, shocked by his aggression.

Trudging back over to the house, I mumbled under my breath the entire time. “Ungrateful idiot. Probably ain't even that sick. He's just got man-flu.”

I needed a distraction. I was so mad and confused by the way Adam had snapped at me, so I ran myself a bubble bath, lit some candles, and poured a glass of wine. Then I sat there brooding over Adam's grumpy mood until the water turned cold. Every fiber of my being was telling me to go check on him, to look after him the way I had with Charles whenever he was sick, but Adam didn't want me there. So I forced myself to write. I wrote until the first draft of the book was completely finished, then fell into bed at just after three in the morning.

Waking on my own, it took a few minutes to remember what had happened the day before. I hadn't heard from Adam and it was now—I checked the clock—a little after ten.

I was sure he would be feeling better, and would probably apologize for being such a grumpy ass. So with a spring in my step, I dressed, made a fresh pot of coffee, then poured a cup with milk and sugar, just the way Adam liked it, and took it over to him to see how he was.

As soon as I took the first step onto Adam's deck, Max came bounding up to me. He'd been sitting on the back mat waiting for someone to let him back inside, which seemed strange, as Max was usually by Adam's side.

Checking the sliding glass door, I found it unlocked, so I opened it and entered, calling out a cheery “good mornin'” to announce my arrival. But I was stopped dead in my tracks when I was confronted with a glamorous Annabel, fussing over Adam as he sat on the sofa.

“I thought you said you wanted to be left alone to rest. What's she doin' here?” I blurted out, unable to keep my temper under control.
Why is it okay for her to be here and not me?

“I'm taking him to Southampton Hospital.” She was so cool, so…doctor-like, as she put away her stethoscope and removed the blood pressure cuff.

“What? Why?” I clunked the coffee cup down on the table, spilling some over the rim.

Annabel gave Adam a look, eyebrows raised and questioning. He shook his head vigorously, his face set in a scowl.

“What the fuck's goin' on? Adam?” My hands were on my hips. I needed answers, like when did he call her to come? Because it's a long drive from Philadelphia to the Hamptons.

“It doesn't concern you,” Annabel told me in an “I'm a doctor and you're just an idiot” tone.

“Like hell it doesn't! But what I wanna know is why it concerns you. He's not your boyfriend anymore. He's my—”

“Your friend. That's all you two are. You are friends.”

I looked at Adam. I was sure he would jump to my defense, but instead he just rose from the sofa and hobbled out of the room.

My heart raced in my chest as panic took hold, but I didn't know if it was because his ex was sitting there looking gorgeous, or because she was a doctor and thought he needed to go to the hospital.

“It's man-flu, for goodness' sake,” I said, trying to appease my own growing concern. “Of course, bein' man-flu, it's worse than anythin' any woman has ever experienced. But seriously, he has a cold. Does he really need to go to the hospital?”

Annabel completely ignored me as she closed her black medical bag. I may as well have been talking to myself, which in effect, I was.

Adam returned. He'd changed into his jeans and a pullover, and had packed a small overnight bag.

I looked to him, pleading. “Adam, what's goin' on? Why do you need to go to the hospital?”

He just shook his head, dismissing my concern. “I'm fine, Evie. Don't worry yourself about it. Annabel's being overcautious. Can you look after Max, please?”

“No. No, I can't. I ain't your fuckin' dog-sitter every time you want a little rendezvous with your ex.”

“Please…”

“No.” I crossed my arms over my chest defiantly. “I ain't doin' it, Adam. I won't, not again.” If I could have gotten away with stamping my foot like an insolent child, I would have. But I was trying to be mature, especially as Annabel was there. I looked at her again. That pitying look smacked me in the face.

I was defeated. She had won.

Max sidled against my leg. Reaching down, I patted his head. “I ain't feedin' ya.” I sniffed as my eyes misted over.

Adam came over to me, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me goodbye, but Annabel ushered him out the door, leaving Max and me standing there like yesterday's news.

They were gone.

Adam had left without a second glance over his shoulder. There'd been no explanation, no reassurance that he would be back soon. He had obviously called the woman who had broken his heart and she'd come rushing to his side to take care of him.

Max whined by my side. He looked as sad and pathetic as I felt.

“Come on, then, let's go home.”

Max and I sat outside on the deck, huddled together for most of the day. I couldn't understand why Adam had called Annabel, but even more so, I couldn't get my head around why she thought he needed to go to the hospital. Was there something more wrong with him than just the flu? What weren't they telling me?

Max and I sat there until the sun disappeared behind the cliff and the sky turned a magnificent shade of red. It was cold, but I had hoped that at any minute Adam would come home, and I wanted to be there to let him know I was worried about him and to make sure he was okay. Even if he had chosen Annabel over me, I couldn't help how I felt about him.

He didn't come home.

I put Max to bed, then crawled under the covers and cuddled Adam's pillow, feeling totally dejected. The coolness of the sheet on Adam's side of the bed was a constant reminder that he wasn't there, and I huddled on my side with his pillow in my arms, trying to fool myself into thinking that I was cuddling him. As tears tumbled over my lashes and onto my pillow, I chastised myself. I had stupidly let myself fall for a man who was so far out of my reach it was laughable. I had gotten involved with someone when I knew there was no real future for us after our time here was over. I had allowed myself to believe that he felt something for me, when clearly the woman he wanted to take care of him, the woman he turned to, was not me. With her blonde bouncy hair, fake boobs, and cool demeanor, she was in fact the opposite of me. She was the anti-Evie. I chuckled into the darkness. I was seriously losing it.

“No, you've just lost him,” I blubbered to myself.

The clicking of Max's claws on the wooden boards alerted me to his presence.

“Back to bed, Maxie,” I whispered into the dark.

He snuffled beside the bed, hot dog breath assaulting my nostrils.

“You ain't gettin' up.”

He climbed up onto the end of the bed.

“Get down.”

The weight of his head rested on my feet and he sighed contentedly.