Chapter 21
Eve
“Is it thick enough?”
Jannie looked over Adam’s shoulder, critically eyeing the steaming saucepan as he turned off the burner and removed the boiling oats from the stove.
He swung around to empty its contents into a bowl. His rolled-up sleeves allowed Eve a delicious view of his muscular forearms. He wore a white apron with a Norwegian flag across the front, courtesy of Jannie. Underneath the red flag with a navy-blue Nordic cross bordered in white was embroidered, Not only perfect, but Norwegian too!
Eve truly agreed with that. Jannie had gifted all her siblings the same apron, but Eve thought Adam wore it best.
She placed another plate and glanced around the cozy kitchen, where four Larssen siblings and one very sharp-eyed grandmother were bustling about, preparing breakfast.
The moment he’d renewed their contract, Adam had asked her to join him on the annual family trip to Norway. They’d flown to Oslo on Friday, on the G550, the entire Larssen clan plus Rolf. Saturday morning breakfast was a huge production, Eve had learned, all of them participating, and she was loving every moment, enamored with the family, fascinated by their group dynamic.
All her life, she’d dreamed of being part of something like this. Especially wonderful was meeting Adam’s grandmother, sharp as a tack and still ruling the roost at seventy-two.
Eve watched in amusement as the old woman narrowed steely blue eyes at Jannie.
“Adam knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t need you hovering over the havregqr?t.”
“Remind me, Bestemor, who was the only one of us who burned it?”
Jannie shot back. “Oh, yes, that’s right, it was this guy!”
Lowering her voice, she muttered, “The man can fly a jet but can’t manage simple oatmeal.”
Ian chuckled, hand on a white cloth over a crisp bread loaf, and pointed with a serrated knife. “You’ll never live that down, Ug.”
“It was one time,”
Adam told Eve, amusement glinting in his eyes. “I was twelve.”
Jannie poked his shoulder. “Old enough to know better.”
Ian raised an eyebrow at her, motioning with his chin to a bowl of eggs. “You have all those to crack. Get to it.”
She placed protective hands on her belly, now gently rounded. “That’s Erik’s job now. The smell of raw eggs makes me sick.”
Ian sawed at the loaf. “Raw eggs have a smell? Who knew?”
“They didn’t until recently. You’ll never understand.”
Jannie swung around and glared at Erik, who was absorbed in something on his phone. “Hey, slacker! Put that thing away.”
Grandma rounded on him. “Erik. What part of ‘no phones in this kitchen’ was unclear?”
Ian chuckled. “Runt’s in trouble again.”
Adam busied himself smoothing the surface of the oatmeal and sprinkling cinnamon, then adding walnuts and berries as a topping.
Grandma watched him with adoring eyes, nodding approvingly. “That’s perfect.”
She patted his arm and turned to Mrs. Larssen. “Is the coffee ready, Frida?”
“Almost.”
“Where’s Olaf?”
“Out walking Rolf.”
“Someone text him and tell him breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes,”
Frida said.
Erik smirked. “I would, but I had to put away my phone.”
Grandma smacked him with a dish towel. “Text your father.”
Erik cowered exaggeratedly, lips twitching. “Yes, Bestemor.”
The click of toenails on hardwood announced the German shepherd’s arrival even before he trotted into the kitchen.
Grandma smiled at the dog. “Never mind.”
She pinched a piece of smoked salmon from the platter in the center of the table. “Sitte.”
Immediately, the dog’s rump hit the floor. “Good boy!”
She beamed. “He knows Norwegian.”
Eve pressed her lips together to quash a smile.
Grandma tossed him the salmon. Rolf chomped down on the sliver of fish, gobbling it as if it were nothing, thick tail swishing on the floor.
“You’re spoiling him rotten,”
Jannie admonished, but her grin belied her tone.
Grandma caressed Rolf’s soft, pointy ears. “He’s a sweet boy. Deserves some good salmon.”
Mr. Larssen strode in, bringing with him the scent of fresh spring air. “It got cold out there,”
he announced. “We might even get snow tonight.”
Eve looked at Adam questioningly. “In May?”
“The weather in Drammen is unpredictable. All of Norway is like that. You can’t trust your own eyes. It can be warm outside, but by the time you’ve put on your jacket and tied your shoes, the weather may have changed for the worse. Or the sky may have cleared. You always need to have some warm clothes with you. As they say here, wool is cool.”
Erik muttered something under his breath about freezing and nuts, earning a warning look from Mrs. Larssen.
Eve placed the last cup on the table. “All set.”
For the next hour, Eve felt enveloped in their warmth. They teased, laughed, and caught up on their lives over scrambled eggs, salmon, and oatmeal.
“How are the courses going, Eve?”
Jannie asked her.
“They’re going great. I plan to take more credits next semester.”
“That’s wonderful. What’s your goal after you earn your doctorate?”
“I’m hoping to join a practice and eventually start my own.”
“She’s going to have the best physical therapy practice in Las Vegas,”
Adam said with conviction.
Eve basked in his pride for her. She squeezed his thigh under the table, beaming.
Mr. Larssen took a sip of coffee. “What are your plans for the day?”
Adam set his cup down with a clink. “We’re going sightseeing in Oslo.”
“Don’t forget Kj?sterudjuvet.”
Adam grinned. “That’s tomorrow. We both brought hiking shoes.”
?
Eve stared at the microwave in puzzlement. There were symbols, but she had no idea which one she needed. She tried pressing one, but all she managed to do was make beeping noises.
Crap. She hoped she hadn’t woken anyone.
The hope was dashed the next moment when she heard slow, dragging footsteps, and in walked Bestemor, wool slippers on her feet, a thick shawl wrapped around her shoulders.
“I’m so sorry,”
Eve began, “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s all right, child.”
Her voice was soothing. “I wasn’t sleeping. At this age, five hours is enough.”
She eyed the microwave. “What did you need?”
“Trying to heat some milk. It helps me sleep. I’m having trouble with the jet lag.”
“Ah.”
Grandma pressed a symbol, and the appliance hummed to life, light coming on inside as the mug began to rotate.
“Thank you.”
“Glad to help.”
Eve felt the woman’s piercing stare, even though the kitchen was so dark. She didn’t leave, and Eve had the impression she wanted to say something, but for a long time, the only sound was the whir of the microwave fan.
At last, Adam’s grandmother spoke. “My son told me Adam finally found someone, but I had a hard time believing it. I wanted to see the two of you together. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be, but what he feels for you is clear to me.”
Eve watched the mug slowly revolve, not knowing what to say.
Grandma placed a gentle hand on her arm. “I asked him to bring you. Thank you for coming. You’ve made an old woman very happy.”
“I’m glad to be here and to meet you. This is a very special place for Adam. I’m honored to have been invited.”
Grandma nodded and let another few moments pass before she spoke again. “That boy was literally born in my hands. He was almost six weeks early. Ruined his father’s twentieth birthday celebration. Frida had sixty guests invited and spent a fortune on the preparations. She thought she’d set the date early enough, but her water broke the morning of the party, and Adam arrived before we even had a chance to call an ambulance.”
“You lived in Alaska back then?”
“Yes. I always wanted to return to Drammen but stayed until Erik was grown and off to college.”
“Ah, that’s why your English is so good.”
“You are too kind.”
Eve hoped to learn more. “So, Adam was born early.”
Eve smiled because she, too, had been a preemie. “He hasn’t really changed.”
Grandma chuckled. “No, he hasn’t. He always wanted to be ahead of everyone and everything. For the most part, he has succeeded.”
Eve held her breath. Perhaps, finally, she would find out how Adam’s wife had died.
The microwave beeped four times. Grandma extracted the steaming mug and offered it to her.
“The Larssens thought it was important to marry very early and have babies right away. Their way of making sure the children were healthy and the parents were young and strong enough to raise them.
“I married my Svein when I was sixteen. Olaf was nineteen when he married Frida.”
Eve sipped her milk. Why was his grandmother telling her all this? What did it have to do with Adam? She thought it rude to ask, so she kept quiet.
“Adam had good luck in business but bad luck in his personal life. I’ve been afraid I wouldn’t live to see that change. You give me hope, Eve.”
Eve nodded. “He’s a good man,”
was all she could think to answer.
Grandma placed a gentle, bony hand on Eve’s. “I was married to my Svein for fifty years. The most important thing I learned is that you have to find the strength to ride the storms. If you can hold on to one another through those storms, nothing can pull you apart.”
Such urgency in her voice. In the darkness, Eve could feel her intent stare. “Ride the storms with him, Eve. He’s so deserving.”
Why would she say such a thing? An ominous feeling washed over Eve. She opened her mouth to ask but heard footfalls approaching. The unmistakable steps were Adam’s.
“There you are.”
His voice was sleepy. “Having a midnight chat?”
Eve held up her mug. “And a cup of milk. Your grandmother helped me work the microwave.”
Adam slipped an arm around Eve’s shoulders, pulling her into his side. “I’m here to take her back, Bestemor. It’s cold in there. I’m used to desert heat. I’ve turned into a lizard.”
His grandmother placed a loving hand on his cheek. “Good night, Barnebarn. You will find extra blankets in the dresser.”
Adam
Adam pulled open the dresser drawer, grabbing two gray Heimdall merino blankets. He spread them on the bed, glancing at the bathroom door. What was Eve doing in there for so long?
He shivered. Perhaps Erik was right about the frigid temperatures in Norway. Adam frowned. Funny, they had never bothered him before.
Perhaps he was getting old. Perhaps it was the chill that had crept over the back of his neck when he’d caught the last of what Bestemor had said to Eve.
He was so tired of keeping secrets, of watching what he said, careful not to let something slip. Most of all, he knew that the longer he hid the truth from her due to his fear of rejection, the longer the guilt weighed on him, eating at his conscience like acid.
He slid between the covers and rubbed his palms to warm them. If it weren’t so dark, he would probably be able to see his own breath. He had repeatedly offered to modernize the heating system in this old house, only to be refused. His grandmother liked it this way.
Exactly what had she told Eve?
She finally emerged from the bathroom, shivering slightly. “OK, no more milk mouth.”
He held up the covers, and she dived in, scooting close and wrapping herself around him. Her head felt good on his shoulder. He inhaled the faint scent of her Delina and kissed her hair.
She was still shivering. He rubbed her upper arms and back, trying his best to warm her up quickly.
After a while, she stilled.
“You good now?” he asked.
She kissed his jaw. “Always good when I’m with you.”
“My grandmother really likes you.”
He felt her smile against his chest. “I like her too. You were right about her. She’s tough.”
He chuckled. “Oh, yeah.”
She traced the muscles on his chest. “Oslo was not what I expected.”
“Oh?”
He reached under her nightgown, inching it up.
“Yeah. Vigeland Sculpture Park, for one.”
“What about it?”
“I thought Norwegians would be prudish. Instead, you guys have eighty acres with hundreds of sculptures of naked people.
“You guys? I’m American!”
“You know what I mean.”
He chuckled. “Scandinavians aren’t uptight about the human body.”
He let his fingers roam over the backs of her bare thighs. “You should have worn the pajamas, but I’m not complaining.”
She muffled her laugh against his chest. “You would do things to me in your grandmother’s house?”
“I would do things to you anywhere.”
Caressing her hip, he slid his hand up to cup her backside, stroking over her lacy panties, squeezing. She arched her back and gave his Adam’s apple a swipe of her warm tongue, her front grinding against his thigh, and he felt his body instantly respond.
He didn’t remember a time when she didn’t arouse him, and now he knew for sure that it would forever be this way.
Forever was something he considered often these days when he thought of her.
Her fingertips stopped tracing, halting above his boxers. He wished she’d take him in her hand, but she didn’t. He frowned. She seemed a little stiff.
Maybe she was still cold.
“Let me warm you,”
he murmured, low, in her ear. She always responded to that lower tone when he used it with her. Except that, now, she didn’t.
“Adam.”
He brought his hand around, a finger stroking over the edge of her panties. “Hm?”
He slipped under the lace, found her warmth, and started pushing in.
Only to have her hand grab his, gripping hard, halting his progress.
“Adam,”
she repeated.
For some reason, his heart began to hammer, and not at all because of lust. It pounded in his chest so hard, he could feel it in his throat and hear the whooshing echo in his ears.
He swallowed. “What?”
“Your grandmother said something to me this evening.”
When he did not respond, she drew away from him and reached to switch on the nightstand lamp.
A sense of déjà vu made his stomach roll. This scenario seemed too similar to the sickening night in Orlando when she told him that three rapists had stolen her virginity.
This time, albeit not as bright, the light was no less harsh.
He pulled his hand away and gazed into her pretty face. Her brown eyes were wide, focusing on him with an intensity he almost couldn’t handle.
“What did she say?”
“She told me that the Larssen tradition was to marry and have children very early.”
Jesus Christ.
His jaw flexed. “That is true.”
“She also said the most important thing in a relationship—no, in a marriage—was having the strength to ride the storms. Any idea why she’d say those things to me?”
The pieces of his life began to scramble in his brain. He raked his fingers through his hair, pressing his forehead with the heel of his hand, seeking clarity.
She stared at him. “Adam?”
He steeled himself, looking for the right words to tell her what he knew might shatter them both.
She waited, her hand now pressed to where his heart was pounding.
“I have something I’ve been meaning to tell you,”
he quietly began.
He hated the shadow of fear he saw drift in her eyes.
“It never seemed like the right time.”
“OK.”
Her voice was calm but guarded.
“First, promise me you’ll hear me out.”
She sat up, dragging the blanket with her. “All right,”
she said cautiously.
He, too, sat up. He thought to take her hands but changed his mind and clenched his fists instead.
“When I was four, the house next door came up for sale. My parents thought it would be great if their best friends lived there. Their friends agreed, so they bought the place and moved in. It was convenient. They took turns grocery shopping, cooking, ran errands for one another, even shared a house cleaner. They had a daughter, not much younger than I was. Grandma helped with her care too, so it was a great arrangement for everyone. We took vacations together. The adults sometimes could get away by themselves and not worry about the house or kids. Childcare was taken care of, and, later, so were playdates.”
Fuck, what a word vomit.
He forced himself to pause a moment. He noticed that Eve had put distance between them but not much.
“Jannie told you how I got my nickname.”
Eve nodded.
“What she didn’t tell you is why those girls got so crazy. I didn’t pay them any attention, even in my teens. I’ve wanted to fly planes since I was old enough to know what one was, so I was more interested in spending time at the airport with my dad. When I wasn’t in school, or at the airport, or flying with him on some mission, I’d be reading aviation magazines and manuals. Any girl who chased me, I sent straight to Ian.”
His brother had loved it. His parents, however, began to try to set him up on dates.
“I just wasn’t interested. So much so that by the time I was sixteen, my parents began to get worried.”
Eve shifted. He looked up and saw the tiniest of smiles play on her pretty lips. “They thought you were gay?”
He shrugged. “They considered the possibility. Go figure.”
“What does this have to do with what your grandmother was saying?”
He held his hand up. “I’m getting to that.”
He took a breath, encouraged by her posture. At least, so far, she seemed relaxed.
“I grew up with the conviction that people should get married young. My parents did it, my grandparents, practically everyone I knew. That was our normal. That was what I was supposed to do. So, when they came to me with the idea that I should date the girl next door, I said OK because I wanted to please them. And because they put enough pressure on me to where I thought I had to.”
He swallowed. Eve had hunched over a bit and crossed her arms over her belly.
“I was young. I thought everything would be OK. I’d known her all my life. I didn’t see anything unusual when we dated. She… We didn’t have sex. Until…”
Their wedding night. What a disaster. He remembered wondering what the hell he could actually do right. Nothing he tried could please her, and she kept telling him he didn’t know what he was doing, which, of course, he didn’t, but she wouldn’t tell him what she wanted either.
“Long story short, when I was seventeen, I married her.”
“How did she die?”
Eve asked softly.
There it was—his time to face it.
He hated himself.
“She didn’t.”
For a few seconds, Eve was perfectly still.
Then, her raspy intake of breath drove like a knife through his gut.
She stared at him, incredulity in her expression. “You mean…”
“Yeah.”
He grimaced.
“You’re married.”
It was a barely audible whisper.
He nodded, feeling his heart spasm.
Beside him, he felt her start to tremble.
Please don’t cry now; you’ll kill me.
But she didn’t. She sat there, rocking a little, her eyes wide, her small fist pressed to her open mouth.
He wished she would scream.
Hit him.
Something.
But this…this shocked, doe-eyed stare was worse than any physical violence she could have unleashed on him.
“Why did you list yourself as widowed on your Eleet client profile?”
“Privacy. She walked out seven years ago. She became dead to me that day.”
Eve didn’t ask why. She sat there like a statue.
“I didn’t feel anything for her, just went through the motions, and it got worse as time passed. I was so busy first with school, then with perfecting our app, then starting and growing a business…
“There were…problems.”
He looked down at his hands and shook his head. He hated to go there. “I didn’t realize she was already quite experienced when we got married, in things that were…unknown to me.
“When she started making more and more demands, I found escape in work. And she… Well, she found other men to do what I would not. Sometimes more than one at a time. First, online. Then, she began meeting them for real. I looked the other way because I thought this was my fault, and maybe she’d married me too young and needed to get…whatever it was…out of her system.”
He paused, reached for a water bottle on the nightstand, and took a few long swallows. Eve sat, knees up, gripping the blankets she’d pulled to her chin.
Adam put the water back on his nightstand. “But when she started to set it up so I would come home and find her in the middle of…things…and she repeatedly demanded I join in, I realized there was no way I could give her what she wanted.”
He left out how Ingrid’s disparaging remarks about what she called his sexual inhibitions made his younger self feel so inadequate. He also left out how, once, he’d given in and tried to participate in a threesome and how that night had messed up his mind.
How all of this had made him not even want to attempt a relationship ever again.
Until Eve.
The woman whose brown eyes now regarded him with such pain, he couldn’t even bring himself to make eye contact for more than a couple of seconds.
“You kept it from me for all this time.”
“I know.”
He looked away.
She reached to grasp his cheek and turn his face to hers. Her fingertips felt hot.
“Why, Adam?”
she whispered hoarsely. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looked into her eyes, willing her to read what was inside him, what he felt for her—the only woman who had ever made him feel this way.
“I thought I could find her and get the divorce before I had to tell you. Ian has been helping me, but we haven’t been able to locate—”
“Oh, Adam.”
Her fingertips left his cheek, and suddenly, he felt cold.
She started to get up.
He gripped her arm.
She shook her head. “Please.”
How many times had she uttered that word in the throes of passion?
Now, that defeated, toneless way in which she said it chilled him far more than the temperature of the room.
He forced himself to disengage his fingers from where he held her in a death grip and clenched his jaw so hard he heard his teeth grind. “Eve.”
There was so much more to say. That he had hoped to rid himself of his problem before it became one for the both of them. That he hadn’t wanted to let Ingrid’s shadow darken any other part of his life. That things had been so good between him and Eve, and they could be even better. He knew that in his soul.
But now Eve had turned away, and she was…
Fuck.
She was going for her suitcase.
“Eve.”
She calmly placed the case on the bed, her fingers shaking slightly as she fumbled with the zipper.
Adam raked a hand through his hair. “You said you’d hear me out.”
She opened the dresser drawer and picked up a stack of clothes. “What else is there?”
“I’ve started to conduct a divorce by publication. I plan to serve the summons and complaint in the Nevada Legal News. The court will consider the divorce uncontested if she doesn’t respond.”
She caught his gaze and held it. “And if she does?”
His stomach rolled.
“She won’t.”
He swallowed. He bowed his head. “I’m pretty sure she won’t. If she does, I’ll make her sign the papers. Why are you packing? Come back to bed.”
She shook her head slowly.
He held his hand out. “Please.”
“I need… This is a lot. I need some time to process all of this. And I can’t do that here. I’m going to… I have to go home.”
Shit.
Adam closed his eyes, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose. This was going exactly as he’d feared.
She threw her hiking boots into the suitcase. “Call me a taxi, please.”
“You want to go now? In the middle of the night? We’re flying home on Monday.”
She shook her head. “Please, Adam. Just…”
She ended on a sob. “I can’t stay until then. I’m going to the airport and flying home from there.”
He knew there would be no flights until morning, but he could tell arguing would get him nowhere.
“OK.”
He held his palms up. “I’ll drive you.”
“I’d rather not have you do that.”
She cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind, I’d like some privacy so I can change.”
Privacy. She wanted privacy now. Christ.
The look in her eyes was killing him.
His gaze dropped to the floor. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“All right.”
He pushed the covers off, instantly assaulted by the frigid air. Slowly, he rose and headed to the door, hoping against hope to hear her call him back.
He pressed down on the door handle. “At least let Ian drive you.”
She didn’t answer.
He dared one last look at her. She stood there, barefoot, in her long nightgown, chin up, hands white-knuckled on the hanger of her wool sweater. Her eyes were dark pools.
Wounded.
His stomach plummeted. Chest heavy, he opened the door and stepped out of the bedroom, praying he wasn’t also stepping out of her life.
He rapped on Ian’s door, which was the next one over. Ian yanked it open, his mouth grim. Adam met his gaze and knew at once his brother was aware of everything.
“You heard?”
A curt nod. “The walls are paper thin.”
He stepped aside and closed the door behind Adam. “I’ll go get dressed.”
He had the grace not to comment.
“Thanks, man. Take her to the Radisson Blu.”
“The airport hotel?”
“Yes.”
Adam lowered his voice so Eve couldn’t overhear. “I’m pretty sure there’s a KLM flight to Vegas leaving around nine tomorrow. One stop. See about getting her a ticket.”
“She’ll want to pay for it herself.”
Adam sank into a worn armchair. “Whatever she wants.”
Ian dressed quickly. Grabbing his coat and gloves, he put a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Try not to overthink this. I’m sure it’ll all work out.”
Adam merely nodded. The door shut quietly behind his brother, leaving emptiness and the loud ticking of a vintage clock.
Adam sat there, staring at a framed picture on the wall. It was a portrait of the four of them as little kids. He looked at his younger self, a lanky kid, grinning hugely, missing his front tooth. He had been happy back then, before the darkness caused by his bad choices and Ingrid’s actions. And he hadn’t known happiness for many years, until…
The clock ticked, marking each passing second.
It hit him like an anvil to the head.
Eve was his happiness, and she was leaving.
Adam surged to his feet, barreling out of Ian’s room, taking the stairs as quickly as his bare feet would allow. He reached the landing, only to hear the thunk of car doors slamming. An engine cranked and roared to life.
He yanked the front door open. Icy air blasted in his face, so cold that his breath stopped for a second. He stepped out, the frozen slate burning his feet.
Don’t go. I love you.
Too late.
The Volvo was already speeding away.
Suddenly, his eyelids burned, and he felt numb all over. He could see his own breath as he stood there, panting. He blew on his freezing hands.
Snow had begun to fall, huge white flakes drifting to settle on his hair and eyelashes.
Adam stood unmoving, watching the red taillights glow until they became tiny dots that disappeared into the frigid night.