Bittersweet (7 page)

Feeling
how warm the sun was on her arms, Zoe was a little worried that he hadn’t worn
a hat.

“What
is it?” Adam asked without looking over. He wore sunglasses too, but his
attention hadn’t seemed to stray from his book. He must have sensed her
watching him.

“You
should have worn a hat.”

Adam
lowered his sunglasses and gave her a silent, quizzical look over the top of
them.

“It
looks like your face might be burning.”

“Do
you have any idea how often I’ve come out here to sail? You think I can’t take
care of myself?”

Zoe
chuckled at his lofty expression. “Well, you’re obviously not taking care of
yourself very well,” she replied with a teasing note in her voice. When he
didn’t reply with anything except a wry smile, she added, “And I can’t believe
you’ve come sailing all these years and never told anyone about it. Talk about
being a closed-mouthed bastard.”

“I
don’t come out in the winter. There would have been no reason to bring the
subject up with you.”

“Still,”
she insisted with an impressive scowl, if not with any credible objections.

It
had been almost four months now since Josh had died, and she never would have imagined
that she and Adam could have become friends. But they had. She figured she knew
him now better than most people, and it seemed so strange that she hadn’t known
that he loved to go out on his ridiculously expensive sailboat on Sundays until
just a few days ago, when he’d invited her to sail out with him.

“What
are you reading?” Zoe asked, seeing he’d gone back to his book. When she first
settled down with her own book, Adam had been messing around with the lines and
sails and such. She assumed he’d been reading for a while now, but she’d been
barely conscious of him before.

She
was comfortable with Adam. She wasn’t always aware of his presence, didn’t have
to notice everything he did. Being with him was sometimes like being by
herself. Only not so lonely.

And
she figured he felt the same way about her.

She
wasn’t sure how she would have gotten through the last few months without him.

When
he didn’t reply, she asked again, “Adam, what are you reading?”

“History.”

It
wasn’t like she had a burning desire to know what dull book had him enthralled,
but his response was so noncommittal that it piqued her interest. “What kind of
history?”

Adam
looked vaguely annoyed, even behind his sunglasses. “Greek history. Why does it
matter?”

“It
doesn’t. I was just wondering. And I don’t know why you’re so unwilling to tell
me. What part of Greek history does the book cover?”

She
saw rather than heard his impatient release of breath. “The Persian Wars.”

Her
questioning had just been idle before, but now her curiosity was fully sparked
by his obvious reluctance to share. “Who wrote it?”

Adam
was definitely annoyed now. She could see it in the lines of his brow and the
set of his chin. He kept staring down at his book, but she was sure he wasn’t reading
anymore.

“Adam?”
she prompted.

“Herodotus.
If I’d known you were going to pester me the whole time, I wouldn’t have
invited you out.”

Zoe
ignored his snide comment and swung her legs around to sit up on the bench. She
examined Adam carefully. He wasn’t usually bad-tempered. When he was stressed
or bothered by something, he would get quiet and withdrawn. She always
respected his privacy and his need to be alone, but that wasn’t what was going
on here.

He
just didn’t want her to know what he was reading.

Which
meant, of course, that she absolutely had to know what it was.

“Can
I see it?” she asked, giving him a bright smile.

He
turned his head and gave her a decidedly suspicious look. “Excuse me?”

“I
wanted to see your book.”

“You
wouldn’t like it. Too dry and boring for you.”

“I’m
not saying I want to read it. I just want to
see
it.”

He
shook his head with what she was sure was an eye-roll behind his sunglasses, and
he kept reading his book.

Zoe
got up, took a couple of steps over to his bench, and reached out for the book.

Adam
jerked it away.

“Hey!”
she objected, “Why are you being so grumpy? I just want to see your book.”

Adam
held it away from her, out of her reach. “Zoe, don’t be silly.”

His
cold tone didn’t intimidate or quell her. She leaned over him, stretching her
arm out toward the book he was holding away from her.

They
ended up having a brief scuffle. Zoe was giggling as she nearly sat on top of him
in order to get to the book, and Adam was doing his best to resist without
actually dumping her onto the deck.

When
she accidentally elbowed him in the chest, he huffed in reaction and bent his
elbow enough for her to grab the book.

She
sat on the three inches of bench Adam wasn’t taking up and gloated over her
prize.

Adam
had lost his sunglasses in the scuffle, and his eyes were amused, despite the
frown he gave her. “I would have thought you were too old for such games.”

“Don’t
be snotty,” she told him, blithely unconcerned by his frown and his patronizing
comment. She knew he didn’t mean it. “You’re ages older than me, and
you’re
obviously not too old to stubbornly refuse to let me see your silly book.”

“I’m
not
that
much older than you,” Adam muttered.

“What
do you mean? You must be close to forty!” She pitched her voice intentionally
to sound shocked by such an advanced age, even though she knew he was just over
thirty.

She
had a good giggle over his expression, but then she was distracted by opening
the book.

She
stared down at the pages, astonished and confused. She flipped a few more, but
they all looked the same.

They
were all completely unreadable.

Zoe
made a choking sound as she finally realized why Adam hadn’t wanted her to read
his book. “This is in Greek!” she exclaimed. “The whole damned book is written
in ancient Greek!”

Adam
tightened his lips and gave her a cool stare. “Your point being?”

As
it sunk in, Zoe started to laugh helplessly, nearly bent over with hilarity. “I
can’t believe you’re such a nerd! You go out on the lake to enjoy a lazy
Sunday, and you bring a book written in ancient Greek to read!”

With
a narrowed-eyed glare, he said, “The ability to read a few languages and
appreciate the classics does not automatically imply that one is—”

“A
nerd
!” Still cackling, Zoe gave him back Herodotus and returned to her
bench. “Don’t be grumpy. I’m very impressed with your particular brand of nerdiness.”

“It
is difficult to assess how sincerely you’re impressed through all the mockery,”
Adam said coolly.

“I’m
not mocking. Just teasing. And you brought it on yourself for not admitting
what you were reading to begin with.”

Adam
curled up his mouth in a faint scowl and put his sunglasses on again. When he
didn’t respond and started reading again, Zoe peered at him, trying to check
his expression to make sure he wasn’t really offended by her teasing.

She
was having trouble reading his face until he turned toward her again, twitching
his eyebrows above his sunglasses.

She
smiled in relief at this sign of his good-humor. “I like nerds,” she told him.

His
mouth tightened, as if he were hiding a smile, but he just said in a chilly
voice, “I do not acquiesce to that label. And I would think, given the nature
of your reading material, mocking mine wouldn’t be high on your priority list.”

“What’s
wrong with my reading material?” Zoe asked, picking up the paperback she’d been
zipping through.

“Nothing’s
wrong with it, except the only question of human existence it bothers to ask is
which vampire the heroine will decide to jump into bed with next.”

“Hey,
that’s not fair.”

“Isn’t
it?”

“Sometimes
she jumps into bed with a werewolf!”

Adam
tilted his head back and laughed.

*
* *

They started
back late in the afternoon, taking advantage of the stronger winds.

It
had been a lovely day. Zoe had read, napped, stared out at the water, and
generally had a wonderful time. She was sorry the day was over—even though she
was becoming more eager to get back to Logan and make sure he was all right.

After
four months, she no longer hurt every moment with the reality that Josh was
gone. She still missed him more than she could have dreamed possible, but she
thought she was starting to heal.

Right
now, Adam was at the helm. He was adjusting the sails with the same dedicated focus
he applied to everything, but she was pretty sure he was having a really good
time steering his sailboat through the lake.

Josh
had never sailed in his life. Even if he’d tried it, Zoe was convinced he
wouldn’t have liked it. It was too subtle, not visceral enough. Josh would
probably have thought it was too elite a recreational activity, too
Peterson-like for him. He’d been in great shape, and he’d enjoyed playing
basketball and football. But he wouldn’t have wanted to sail.

And
he would have stared at her like she was insane if she’d suggested he might
read ancient Greek.

“Do
you think,” Zoe began, asking what was on her mind without thinking it through
or leading up to it, “if you were raised the same way that Josh was, you’d have
been more like him?”

Adam’s
eyes shot over to her face. After a long pause, he replied, “I don’t know.
Maybe.”

“I
was just thinking about how different you two are, and I was just wondering.”
She felt silly now for speaking the thought aloud.

“Some
of the differences between us were probably upbringing,” Adam said slowly, his
eyes fixed on the horizon now. “But some of them were because of our natures. We
were always different people.”

“I
know that. I was just…”

“Missing
him?” Adam prompted, still not looking at her. He seemed a little stiff, she
noticed for the first time.

“I
guess.” That wasn’t exactly what she’d been feeling, but she couldn’t think of
any way to explain the difference.

Neither
of them spoke for a long time. Zoe watched Adam at the helm and was worried by
what she saw in the lines of his face and the tension of his body.

Something
was bothering him.

After
rehearsing their most recent conversation, Zoe figured out what it might be.
“Hey,” she said, straightening up, “I didn’t mean you should be more like Josh.
I wasn’t saying I wanted you to be different than you are.”

Adam
looked at her from behind his sunglasses in silence for a long moment. Then his
mouth softened into an oddly poignant smile. “Josh is the one you loved. It
isn’t surprising that you’d measure other men against his standards.”

“Yeah.
Of course, I loved him.  But I like you for
you
. Not because you’re like
or not like Josh. You know that, right?”

Something
released in his demeanor—it wasn’t anything she could put her finger on, but
she was sure she’d said the right thing. All he did was arch one eyebrow.
“That’s infinitely comforting.”

Zoe
laughed softly at the irony in his tone, knowing he used it for the same reason
she did—to relieve emotional tension. Then she reached over and picked up the
fleece jacket she’d taken off earlier. It was cooler now that they were sailing
again.

She
caught Adam looking at her as she zipped the jacket up, and she smiled at him.
“Thanks for taking me with you today.”

Adam
smiled back at her—still quiet, still layered, still unknowable in so many
ways. “You’re welcome.”

They
didn’t say much on their way back to shore, but Zoe still felt relaxed and
content. It was nice to just sit. To not have to think too much, or decide what
she needed to do with her life, or figure out what was best for her and Logan
and their future.

The
breeze blew against her face and through her hair, and the sun was getting
lower in the sky.  She gazed around her, admiring the scenery, and her eyes
landed again on Adam.

He
was concentrating on steering again, and he looked oddly at home at the helm.
She was used to seeing him in business suits and ties. Even when he came over
for dinner, as he did fairly often, he would still be in work clothes, since he
always came right from the office. So it was strange seeing him in such an
entirely new context.

The
wind blew his white shirt against his chest and arms. He was about the same
height as Josh had been with the same general build. Adam obviously didn’t lift
weights as much as Josh had, but he had excellent shoulders and lean, graceful
muscle tone in his arms, chest, and legs. His face was striking, and the lines
of his body were strong and efficient. There was something in his stance she
recognized as leashed power.