Adam's Thorn (39 page)

She could live in Peeron, she
thought.  In the weeks she’d been here, she’d come to know the locals, enjoyed
the waves and pleasantries they exchanged, the good humour, the different
personalities.  The small town life where everyone knew everyone.  The friendly
intimacy.  She’d made friends even though she hadn’t set out to do so in the
beginning.  Good friends.

And then there’s Adam
. 

Sliding her arm down, she rested
her hand on top of his.  The warmth of his skin penetrated her cool palm and
she lightly traced over the back of his hand, feeling the strength, the
broadness, the long, capable fingers. 

So much like Adam.  As a man, he
wasn’t complex.  Honest, forthright, he kept his thoughts to himself, valued
loyalty, stood up for what was right, and was a good friend.  He liked her
cats, didn’t boot them off the bed, even let them sleep behind his knees
without complaining.  As a lover he was off the planet.  Caring, strong,
protective, with the lovemaking skills of a well-trained gigolo.

Giggling to herself, Barbie
wrinkled her nose.  Okay, that last was a little disrespectful, but it was
undeniable that Adam had a touch that made her burn.  She’d had a couple of
lovers in her time, but none equalled Adam  No man had had her writhing in
mindless ecstasy before Adam, no man but Adam had made her hunger for him.  With
him, she never felt self conscious, especially when she saw the appreciative
glow in his eyes when he looked at her, both naked and clothed.  She craved his
touch like a thirsty man craved water in a drought.  She could never get enough
of him.  Even just sitting quietly with him watching TV, or reading, or sharing
the cooking, she was so content.

So very content and happy.

One look from his eyes had her
heart picking up pace, one touch had heat sweeping through her, and when he
wrapped her in his arms, she felt delicate and protected all at once.  When he
made love to her, she felt like the most beautiful, erotic woman on earth.

Several things she had discovered
about Adam that she shared was his dry sense of humour and his love for being
home.  Though she’d never told him, she liked her privacy, liked her home to be
her sanctuary, which was one reason why she’d planned to open a business in the
city away from her duplex.  She could have saved money by doing massages at her
home, but she didn’t want to bring her work into her home space.

But going back to the city… Barbie
stared into the darkness.  Going back meant leaving Peeron, leaving her new
friends, leaving a life she was enjoying.  A slow, easy life.  It had its
responsibilities, its ups and downs just like any life did, but the quietness
of the little country town eased her soul, gave her a sense of peace, of
belonging.

But mostly it was Adam.  Nestled
back against him, the sensation of him still inside her, his strength
surrounding her, his scent in her nose and his taste in her mouth, she knew one
thing for certain.  She couldn’t leave Adam.  She didn’t want to leave the
town, could choose to stay here or not, but leaving Adam was something that
tore her a little inside and had her bleeding internal tears.

When had she fallen in love with
Adam Moor?

The knowledge had been seeping in
slowly but surely the last few days, but it had really hit her when she’d seen
how far along the painters had come on the outside of the house, the boards
stripped and freshly painted, the repairs done by the carpenters.

Now it was just a matter of the furniture,
household goods, paintings, books, toys, clothes, and other things deemed
valuable by the antique dealer, being paid for and taken, and the painters
would have a clear run of the house.  Once they had a clear run, it wouldn’t
take long for it to be finished.

And then sold.  And then…

And then she’d realised it would
be finished, the house would sell, and she couldn’t bring herself to leave Adam
because she’d fallen in love with him.

So now what?  She nibbled on her
bottom lip.  Technically she was living with him, but he’d never mentioned her
staying indefinitely.  It had been only until the big, old house was finished,
or so she’d surmised under the circumstances.

What would he say if she suggested
staying?  What did he feel?  What did he want?

Maybe she should just ask him. 
Hey,
Adam, how about I just stay here permanently because I, you know, love you?
 
She groaned silently.  What if he had a heart attack?  What if he looked
horrified?  What if he had a stroke just thinking about it?

But no, that wasn’t Adam Moor. 
He’d just look at her and - what?  What?  Say ‘yes’?  ‘Hell yes?’  ‘Hell no?’ 
‘Sorry, but…’ ‘This has been nice but…’

“But but but,” she muttered.

“Barbie?”  He stirred behind her,
his breath shifting on her head.  “Baby?”

God, he could say ‘baby’ in his
husky tone and all her lady-parts went on high alert.

Patting his hand, she whispered,
“It’s okay.  Go to sleep.”

“You all right?”  He nuzzled her
hair, drew her closer against his body.

“Mmmm.  Fine.”

“Something bothering you?”

Yep, but he sounded so drowsy, so
sleepy.  So concerned for her even when tiredness flowed through his deep
voice.   “Nothing, baby.  Go back to sleep.” 

He cuddled down behind her, buried
his face in the nape of her neck and went right back to sleep.

With a mental sigh, Barbie
continued gazing into the darkness until sleep took her as well.

~*~

Spencer came and went several
times at the old house the next day, checking things, photographing,
disappearing upstairs and coming back down frowning.

Henry whistled while he worked on
the outside of the house, the last slap of paint put on the house.  The carpenters
were working on the shed, taking it down and putting up a new one.

Bruce and Shane were busy shifting
furniture into the middle of the rooms upstairs so they could continue stripping
faded wallpaper in readiness for painting.  Bruce had been his usual cheerful
self, laughing and chatting. 

She’d found Shane lurking around
one of the upstairs rooms, his gaze darting into one of the rooms, his hand
tight around a scraper.

“Something wrong?” She came up behind
him.

He jumped, swinging around to
frown down at her.  “No.”

“Are you working in there?”

He shook his head, cast the room
one last glance and strode back to the room Bruce was in, the sound of his scraper
and voice soon coming out into the hallway.

Walking into the room he’d been
hovering around, Barbie saw that Spencer was on the phone, his notepad in front
of him, his computer set up.  On the screen were the photos of the furniture
he’d taken.

He turned as she walked in, and smiling,
he said into the phone, “Here’s the lady of the house.  Gotta go.”  Clicking
off, he beamed at her.  “Patrick is emailing me the full amount for all the
furniture tomorrow.  We should have this all finished in the next few days if
the price is agreeable to you.”

“Good to know.”  Barbie glanced
around the room.  “In one weird way, I’ll miss this place because it’s been in
the family for a long time, but on the other hand, it’s kind of creepy.”

“Because of the history?”  Spencer
nodded his understanding.  “I’ve been in a lot of old houses, and a lot of them
have sad histories.  A lot of people died in the old days, medical conditions
not being what they are today.” He ran his hand over the old desk his computer
was sitting on.  “Guess that’s why I love old things so much.  If only they
could talk.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing they can’t,”
she responded.  “Imagine what unsavoury stories they could tell.”

“True.”

“I’ll let you get back to whatever
you were doing.”  She left the room.

Passing the door where Bruce and
Shane were working, she smiled at Bruce, who waved.  Shane looked at her,
frowning, lips pursed as though about to say something, only to look away again
and start ripping at the wallpaper with more energy than it probably warranted.

One weird bloke, that Shane.  If
she remembered correctly from her chat with Old Man Parker, Bruce and Henry
were born and raised in Peeron, but Shane had only arrived six months
previously and mostly kept to himself.

Harriet Keller arrived for a back
and shoulder massage.  Barbie quite liked the woman, and admired her for openly
proclaiming her love for Tommy, the local café owner, especially as she was
fifteen years older than him.  That had made her the talk of the town for
awhile, right about the time Adam and Barbie had met again and provided more
gossip, but as with all gossip, it was dying down.

It didn’t mean that Harriet had it
easy, especially with the frigid conditions between her and Tommy’s mother, who
called her a cradle snatcher under her breath every time Harriet walked into
the café.

“Oh mercy, no wonder I’m so bloody
tense, but what can I do?” Harriet moaned as Barbie worked on a knot in her
shoulder.

“It can be difficult,” Barbie
replied diplomatically.

“Tommy wants me to work in the
café with him, but his mother is impossible.”

Barbie tsk-tsked and worked the
knot.

“Do you know how impossible she
is?”

“I’m kind of new here, too.”

“Right.  I forgot.  Anyway, I’ve
decided not to work there.”

Personally, Barbie thought that
was a wise decision but she refrained from verbalising it.  One thing she’d
learned in her job was to listen but not advise.  That was a slippery slope she
had no intention of starting down.

“The motel is looking for a
cleaner, so I’m applying for the job.  The lady doing it presently is retiring. 
This way I can earn money, see Tommy, and steer clear of his mother,” Harriet
announced.

“Have you done cleaning before?” Barbie
asked, moving down Harriet’s spine with supple fingers, feeling for knots on
each side.

“Actually, yes.”  Harriet paused. 
“Does that surprise you?”

“People do a lot of different
things.”

Harriet continued to talk, and
Barbie listened and worked on her, massaging and smoothing, feeling the woman
gradually relax.  It was a longer appointment than booked, but seeing as
Harriet was the last customer of the day and genuinely needed to de-stress, Barbie
spent more time on her.  By the time she was finished, Harriet was smiling, in a
much better mood, and had already made another appointment.

Cleaning the table down, Barbie
glanced out the window in time to see the carpenter’s truck go down the drive
and out onto the highway.  Was it that late already?  Her heart gave a painful
thud when she saw Bruce get in the passenger side of the van and it drove off.

Oh shit, everyone was going and
she was alone in the house.  She’d lost track of the time!

Heart in her throat, she shoved
the towels in the basket. Her mobile rang, and picking it up expecting to hear
Adam’s voice, she began, “Sorry, I’m coming right now and-”

“Barbie?  It’s me, Patrick.”

“Patrick?”  Barbie quickly sprayed
disinfectant on the table. “Something wrong with the stuff?”

“Stuff?”

“You know.  The furniture and a
hundred other things.  I tell you, Spencer had a fit when he saw those broken
dolls.”  Chuckling despite herself, Barbie picked up the cleaning cloth.

“Spencer?” Patrick repeated, puzzled. 
“Who is Spencer?”

She started wiping the table. 
“You know.  Spencer.  Your assistant.’

“I don’t have an assistant named
Spencer.”

Barbie froze.  “You don’t?”

“No.  Listen, I don’t know who
you’ve been talking to, but he doesn’t work for me. That’s why I’m ringing you,
to apologise for not coming out sooner and to tell you that I’m personally
coming out to view the house and contents.”

A chill went down Barbie’s spine.

“I’ll be there in two days.  I
can’t wait.  And Barbie?”

“Yes?”  She swallowed.

“Don’t let whoever is trying to
sneak past you get his hands on anything from the house.  I’m suspecting it’s
all very valuable.”

“Patrick-”

“Have to go, sugar, I’m off to a
very elite auction tonight and I’m already running late.  I’ll see you on
Friday.”  He rang off.

Slowly, Barbie flipped the phone
shut.  Spencer.  Who the hell was Spencer?  What did he want?

“What a shame,” a voice said from
behind her.

Before she could turn around, a
blow hit her hard on the back of the head and everything went black.

~*~

Hanging up the phone, Adam
frowned.  Barbie wasn’t answering her mobile or the house phone.  She possibly
still had a customer, but he’d seen the carpenters’ utes and the painters’ van
go through town on their way from the old Declan house.  She knew she had to be
out of there at the same time as the workers.  He’d have to go over there and
pick her up on his way home.

Grabbing the car keys, he headed
out the back of the police station to where his car was parked.

“Hey!  Adam!”

Adam turned to where Brandon was standing
in the doorway.  “I’m dropping by the Declan house to check on Barbie.”

“Before you do, Shane’s here. 
Wants a word with you.”

“Can’t it wait?”

Shane walked out from behind
Brandon.  “No, it can’t.”

“Look, whatever it is, you can
tell Brandon.  I’ve knocked off and-”

“It’s to do with your girlfriend
and that antiques bloke.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed.  “What about
them?”

“I don’t know who he is, but that
Spencer isn’t who he’s making out to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve heard him talking about that
furniture in the Declan house, the other stuff, and I’m telling you he doesn’t
know jack-shit about them.”

“And how would you know that?”
Brandon queried.

“My cousin owns an antique shop,
and he trained me enough to keep an eye out for possible bargains while working
in old houses.  I know more about antiques than that Spencer bloke.”