20. Chapter 20
Adam
Six Months Later
The wine cork opens with a satisfying pop .
“All right, you two. This is the last bottle. After this, I’m cutting you off.” I pour a generous amount into Jessica’s long-stemmed glass and then Monica’s. I walk away, shaking my head as they giggle like schoolgirls. Three bottles in, and they’re deep in some whispered conversation, Jessica’s blonde head tipped close to Monica’s dark brunette. I don’t know what they’re talking about, but, given the bright red on Jessica’s cheeks and how she keeps dramatically fanning herself, I’m probably better off not knowing.
Monica is the raunchiest woman I’ve ever met. When she and Jessica start discussing the more scandalous scenes from their favorite romance novels, they make me blush. Me —a man with a dedicated sex room in his house—these two put me to shame. Not that I’m complaining. I’ve had the pleasure of reenacting some of those scenes with Jessica—with spectacular results.
As I make my way back to them, I overhear Monica saying, “I’m telling you, Jessica. It’s creepy.”
“What’s creepy?” I ask, settling on the arm of the couch, right next to Jessica.
“That homeless guy.” Monica takes a swallow of wine, then places her glass on the end table with a clink.
My body goes rigid. “What guy?”
“It’s nothing. Monica’s overreacting.” Jessica waves her hands like she can erase the entire conversation.
“Not so fast. What guy?” I ask Monica, knowing I won’t get the truth out of Jessica. She’s as danger-prone as ever and just as oblivious to a threat. The best proof of that is the fact that she lives with me .
Monica leans forward, propping her elbow on her knee. “There’s this homeless guy who follows Jessica around. He was outside the restaurant when we had lunch together last week, outside my condo when she came to dinner the week before, and just now, when I walked in, I saw him here, lurking around the corner.”
“Old guy? Young guy?” I ask between clenched teeth, already suspecting her answer.
Monica tilts her head, thinking. “It’s kind of hard to tell with the beard and dirty, long hair, but young, I think. All I know is he has crazy eyes.”
“I’m sure he’s just down on his luck,” Jessica interjects.
“You’ve seen him too?” I work to keep my tone even, to not interrogate her. Instead, I ground myself by touching Jessica’s earrings, the diamond studs I gave her for Christmas. She still wears them, knowing I can track her with them. It’s her way of humoring me, and God , I love her for that.
Jessica shrugs. “Sometimes. Once he rode the bus at the same time as me, but he didn’t get off at my stop.”
I swear under my breath.
Fucking Brad.
Knowing how protective I get, Jessica is quick to reassure me. “I’m sure he’s harmless. I feel bad for him, poor guy. You don’t have to worry, Adam.”
My grip on my wine glass tightens. “I’m not worried, Jess.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “You know I’ll always keep you safe.”
She casts a wary glance my way, probably hearing the threat in that statement.
“Did you tell Monica about Paris?” Quickly, I change the topic, not wanting her to dwell on Brad and his craziness.
“Oh!” Jessica bounces excitedly. “You know how I’ve aways wanted to travel! We got reservations at this incredible restaurant. It has the most beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower. Just a couple more weeks, and we’ll be walking along the Seine, looking at the river.” She beams at me, reaching over to squeeze my hand, her enthusiasm infectious. I grin back, knowing I’ve never smiled as much in my life as I have since she walked into my office for that first examination. The moment that set everything in motion.
Monica nibbles on a piece of cheese. “What made you guys pick Paris, anyway?”
“I owe Jessica some new underwear,” I smirk and send Jessica a wink. “I keep tearing them off her.”
“Adam!” Jessica exclaims, blushing the most delicious shade of pink.
The breath gets knocked out of me when, laughing, she jabs her elbow into my ribs. “Don’t tell all our secrets, Marshmallow,” Jessica whispers teasingly with a grin.
Most people would be shocked to hear about torn panties, but not Monica. She brightens and pokes Jessica in the shoulder with a red-tipped fingernail. “You didn’t tell me that part! Jessica Joy Jones, you’ve been holding out!”
Jessica just laughs, making Monica giggle too. I bask in it, the sound of happiness, the sense of home. It’s hard to remember how cold and lonely my condo used to be before Jessica filled it with light.
Later, when Jessica excuses herself to use the bathroom, I take a seat next to Monica.
“We’re still on, right?” I whisper, eyeing the hallway to make sure Jessica doesn’t catch us.
“Yeah, next Tuesday? Noon?” Monica confirms in the same hushed tone.
“Thanks for helping. I’m in over my head when it comes to looking for a ring.” My palms have begun to sweat. It happens every time I think about my plan to propose in front of the Eiffel Tower. I’m going to put the ring on top of a cupcake, an inside joke just for the two of us.
Monica waves a hand. “ Please . Jessica’s been telling me about her dream ring for years. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
“Thanks, Moni—” I startle at a loud knocking on my door.
When I open it, Parker comes bursting in, talking a mile a minute, which isn’t unusual for him. What is unusual is the distressed twist of his mouth and how his perfectly styled hair is mussed, like he’s been running his hand through it.
“Adam!” he says in a loud, booming voice, and I flinch. I still don’t like anyone but Jessica calling me by that name. “You have to help. I’m in trouble with a capital M.”
“What’re you talking about?” I step aside so he can enter.
“I just got served with a malpractice lawsuit.” He throws his hands up. “ Me! Can you believe it? Who would sue me ?”
I roll my eyes. Parker has lots of reasons to be confident. He’s smart, a brilliant surgeon, a YouTube sensation, and—much to my annoyance—Jessica has confirmed he’s good-looking.
Although, when she saw my wounded pride, she quickly amended that statement by saying, “He’s not as handsome as you, Adam. Not by a long shot.”
Yeah, right.
I know a pity compliment when I hear it.
Even with all those things going for him, Parker’s level of self-love is through the roof—sometimes a little too much.
He groans. “Now I have to get a lawyer. You know how much I hate those self-important, soul-sucking leeches. God! I can’t believe this.”
We’ve wandered into the living room. Monica rises from the couch and turns to face us.
Parker slams to a halt, his wide blue eyes fixed on her. I wait for him to make one of his witty comments, but for once in his life, the man is speechless.
There’s a strange tension in the air, an electric crackling.
It’s…odd.
“Um.” My gaze bounces between the two of them. Parker is staring with his mouth open, and Monica has crossed her arms over her chest and is glaring daggers at him.
This is awkward.
“Monica, this is my colleague—”
“Best friend,” Parker interrupts.
“Whatever,” I continue. “This is Parker, who’s a surgeon at my hospital. Parker, this is Jessica’s friend, Monica. She’s a lawyer.”
Her mouth in a tight flat line, Monica angrily growls, “Yeah, you know…a lawyer. One of those self-important, soul-sucking leeches you were just talking about.”
Parker’s eyes widen even further. He stumbles toward her, which she matches by moving backward.
“Will you do it?” he asks eagerly.
Her brows knit together in confusion. “Do what?”
“Take my case? Will you represent me?”
And just like that I know—
This is going to be a disaster.
(To be continued in the next Deeply Desired novel.)
Epilogue
Chicago Tribune , page 9
Homeless Man Found Dead
Authorities discovered a homeless man dead in Lincoln Park last Tuesday. They’ve identified him as Bradley Wagner of the Chicago area. The exact cause of death is unknown, but locals report the man has a long history of drug and alcohol abuse. The family has declined an autopsy.
The End
***
Thank You for Reading!