Page 12 of Five Minute Man
Chapter 7
“So, Brandon’s yournephew, huh?” Holly asked, sipping her hazelnut cream coffee.
She refused to get her hopes up. So far, Adam was the perfect gentleman. Besides stopping earlier to change her tire, which had earned him quite a few points, he had asked her out for coffee and was fine with meeting there. He had even been waiting in the parking lot when she had arrived five minutes early, and had held the door open for her in an old-fashioned, and appreciated, gesture. Once inside, he had asked her what she wanted, then took care of ordering and paying.
She was glad she had taken extra time with her appearance, choosing form-fitting faded Levi’s that made her butt look good, and a soft, forest green sweater that accented her eyes. She was especially glad since he looked so ruggedly handsome in his jeans and white button-down with the collar open at the top and his sleeves folded back to reveal corded forearms.
Sitting across from him now, she was also glad she had chosen the corner booth. The muted lighting accentuated the sun-bleached, caramel highlights in his silky, chestnut hair and made her fingers itch to run through it. Two hands on the cup kept her from doing just that.
“I bet he’s a handful.”
“He’s a good kid,” Adam said, sounding honest. “Smart, too. He’s going to make one hell of an engineer.” The way his eyes softened and his lips curved slightly suggested that Adam was both close to and fond of his nephew.
“You’re very proud of him.”
“Yeah. It’s not his fault he inherited his father’s curse.”
Holly’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “A curse, huh? Is that what you call it?”
He chuckled. It was a deep, low, rumbling sound that sent tingling shivers into some of her more womanly parts. “Yeah. Women throw themselves at him all the time. Who would want that?”
“Who indeed?” she hummed, wondering how Adam handled that same cursed affliction.
If she looked closely, she could definitely see some family resemblance, but where Brandon’s features were of the picture-perfect, movie star variety, Adam’s were more rugged. His hair was a bit unruly, as if it had been hastily finger-combed as an afterthought. His skin had the sun-kissed look of someone who spent a good deal of time outside. A brief glance downward revealed strong, capable hands and a few calluses.
Of the two, Holly knew which one she preferred.
“What about you? Any nieces or nephews?” he asked, breaking into her mental inspection.
“A few, but they’re all still pretty young yet. The oldest is in seventh grade, the youngest, about six months.” Thinking of the last time she had seen them—at a family gathering turned intervention—the corners of her mouth curved down slightly.
“You don’t like kids?”
“Hmm?” she hummed, her gaze snapping back to his. Clearly, he had been watching close enough to catch the slight frown she hadn’t stopped in time. She could add “perceptive” to the mental checklist she was creating in her mind. So far, the plus column had a lot more entries than the minus one, which was still shockingly empty. “Oh, no. I love kids. It’s just kind of a sore subject with me.”
* * *
“WHY IS THAT?” ADAMasked. Normally, he was not so intrusive right out of the starting gates, but he was determined to find something wrong with her. The sooner, the better, too, because the more time he spent with her, the more he was inclined to possibly overlook some of his prerequisites for ascending to the next level, should it become necessary. Once he started settling, he was in trouble.
Holly scratched a non-existent spec from her coffee mug with the tip of her manicured but practically short nail. It was a few minutes before she glanced up at him with a rueful smile. “I have four siblings—two older and two younger—and each of which is married, actively procreating, and professionally employed.”
Adam shrugged, waiting for the innate alarm built into all single males to sound at the reference to marriage and kids, yet it didn’t.Weird. “So?”
She dropped her eyes again but not before he caught a flash of something raw and vulnerable. “So ... I’m thirty, not married, have a dog instead of kids, and work from my home. In my family’s eyes, that equates to the bottom of the ninth, down by a boatload, with a full count, and our worst hitter just off an injury is up to bat. In other words, all but hopeless.”
The baseball analogy amused him, a not-so-subtle attempt to infuse humor in a subject that was obviously painful for her. Instead of shying away from it, she took it, dressed it up a little, and put it right back out there.
“You paint quite a picture.”
She shrugged, but there was no mistaking the stubborn tilt of her chin or the challenge in her eyes. “There’s no use in sugar-coating it. It is what it is.” Then she flashed him a grin. “You seem like a nice enough guy, Adam. You should know what you’re up against.”
Jesus, he liked this woman. “Forewarned is forearmed?”
“Exactly.” She beamed, seemingly pleased that he had caught on so quickly. “As innocent as this is, if my family finds out about you, they’ll hold a family meeting ... after the shock wears off, of course. There’s nowhere you’ll be able to hide that they won’t find you. They’ll probably try to bribe you. It won’t be pretty.”
“I take it you don’t go out much.” Adam’s smile grew.
Holly snorted softly. “Not much, no.”
