Chapter 12 #3
When we entered the living room, I stopped in my tracks, surprised yet again.
Adam Markland didn’t just have an anaconda in his pants, but also great taste, because his place was.
.. wow. First, floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned the entire wall boasted a breathtaking view of the Smitsville skyline.
Second, the apartment looked like something out of a magazine.
It was designed in a minimalist style, which meant sturdy, dark pieces of furniture and no furnishings.
The kitchen had sleek black cabinetry, giving the room a clean, contemporary edge.
The open space area looked polished, cool, and so damn clean I felt dirty despite showering an hour ago.
“You found the place alright?” Adam asked me.
“Yeah. By the way, how can you afford this place on our salary? The rent must be astronomical.”
“Oh, I’m not renting it. I own it.”
I blinked. “Are you taking bribes or stealing drugs from the evidence locker? Or both?”
Adam smiled.
“Neither. After I turned twenty-one, I inherited our family home. It was the only thing we managed to keep after my father went bankrupt and ended up in prison. He put it in my name, but it was like a trust fund that I couldn’t access before a certain age.
Living in that haunted house was out of the question, so after it became mine legally, I sold it and bought this place.
The rest of the money I gave away to the Safe Haven Orphanage on Fifth Avenue. ”
God, if Luz could hear this.
“That’s very nice of you.”
“I didn’t do it because I’m nice,” Adam retorted. “I did it because I didn’t want my father’s blood money.”
He said it with a blank face, but his hatred for the man was almost palpable.
“How did you find this place?” I asked him, looking around.
“There was a domestic violence incident in the neighborhood a year ago. I took a wrong turn and ended up here. I liked the architecture of these old houses, so when this apartment showed up for sale, I bought it.”
When he lifted the lid on the pot, I peeked inside because the smell made my mouth water.
“What are you making?”
It looked like pieces of meat and vegetables swimming in water, but it smelled like magic. And parsley.
“A beef stew.”
“How do you make this?”
“Well, basically, you cut the beef into small cubes and cook them for at least two hours. The longer the better. Then you add whatever vegetables you have. Potatoes, carrots, peas… You can’t go wrong. Pass me that celery over there, please.”
“You’re sexy when you’re talking food,” I said, because I didn’t want to be the only one flustered.
Adam glanced at me. “I know what you’re doing, but it’s not working. Go pour us wine or something.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Yes. I need to cut this, and I don’t want to chop off my fingers because I’m paying attention to the wrong thing.”
“And what would that be?”
“Your ass, Jordan. Now go. Pour us wine. Behave. Stop fucking with my mind for one goddamn minute.”
I considered contradicting him for the sake of contradicting him, but I did what he said.
I filled the glasses with wine, admiring the beautifully set table and the rustic-looking plates.
Did he have an interior designer? A servant?
A slave? If you told me he was proficient in archery, I would say “sure”, but in setting a table or making a stew? Not in a million years.
After I brought him his glass, I walked up to the wall that contained the only personal items in the room.
A Police Academy Diploma. A Certificate of Achievement.
A Medal of Commendation. A Black Belt Certificate.
His life was his work and vice versa. Those were all great accomplishments, but there was no sign of him as a person.
Things like a framed family photo or an antique vase from a flea market.
A fridge magnet or a cringy, old Christmas mug.
.. nothing like that existed in his impeccable place.
His accomplishments were impressive, which made it even sadder that he ended up in the LD.
“You shouldn’t have broken your boss’s jaw,” I mused, staring at the framed diplomas. “With all these, you could have been a chief of police somewhere, not a detective in the LD.”
“I don’t want to be the chief of police.”
“What do you want to be?”
“A baker.”
I turned and looked at him in disbelief. “A what?”
“Yeah, I would like to bake bread for the rest of my life.”
“Why?”
Adam brought the steaming bowl of delicious-smelling food to the table before replying.
“‘Cause it tastes good and smells even better. Just like your cum.”
“Jesus,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead. “You don’t mince words, do you?”
“You know the answer to that.”
When he pulled out a chair for me, I couldn’t help but smile, but I kept my mouth shut and sat down. After he filled our plates, I took a spoonful, only to choke.
“It’s hot,” Adam warned me. “Be careful.”
“No, it’s not that. It tastes amazing. You weren’t lying when you said you could cook.”
A piercing blue gaze found mine. “I don’t lie. Unless it’s job-related and I have to. Take the bread.”
I reached for a slice. “You didn’t bake this, I presume.”
“I did, actually.”
“Wow. I’m impressed. Still, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
“It was no trouble.”
“Also, you should get married so someone can enjoy your cooking skills.”
Adam chuckled. “I don’t think marriage is in the cards for me.”
“Why not?”
He cocked his eyebrow. “Do you really think someone would agree to a forever with me?”
I pointed a spoon at him. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Adam. You’re an onion, that’s all.”
“A what?”
“Yeah, you have layers,” I explained. “One has to peel you to get to the good stuff!”
“That’s definitely the weirdest shit someone said to me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Adam refilled our glasses as his lips curled into a smirk that told me I was in trouble.
“Are you nervous?” he said, leaning back in his chair in a way that made me stare at his chest.
He knew that if I weren’t, his question would make me nervous, and it pissed me off.
“Why should I be nervous?” I countered. “Unless you poisoned the stew.”
“Mmm,” he hummed noncommittally, never taking his eyes off me.
I leaned back in my chair, mimicking his posture. “What is this? A staring contest? Am I allowed to blink?”
Adam smiled, giving me a blunt, hungry-ish once-over.
“Yeah, you dressed up for me. I can tell.”
“Fuck off,” I exclaimed, warm in the face. “I did not.”
“Yeah, you have that…” He snapped his fingers a few times, as if he was trying to remember the word. “You have that needy look about you. Like a freshly groomed puppy that wants to be petted.”
Well, fuck him. Two could play that game.
“And you underdressed because you didn’t want this to seem like a date,” I countered. “But you showered longer than necessary, cooked this stew for three hours to impress me, and considered texting me to make sure I was coming. Am I right?”
Adam shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Does it seem less like a date?”
“I don’t know,” he mused. “I have never been on one.”
The faint light coming from the kitchen disguised the look in his blue eyes, making it trickier to read him.
“Well, let me enlighten you,” I informed him. “It looks like one. How does that make you feel?”
He cocked his eyebrow. “Yeah, me?”
“That means I’m the first person you cooked for, the first man you ever kissed, and your first date.” I provoked him deliberately. “I feel flattered.”
“You should.”
“Should I be jealous of Verna?”
Adam laughed. “Jesus. Of course not.”
“Maria?”
“No.”
“Anyone else?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Who do you care about?”
“No one.”
“What about Rusty?”
His expression didn’t change, but the way his eyelashes fluttered told me I’d struck a nerve.
“Rusty is dead.”
“Do you have a photo of him?”
“Will you drop the subject if I show it to you?”
“Yes.”
When he showed me the photo on his phone, I blinked in disbelief.
“Shit, that’s the ugliest mutt I have ever seen.”
The animal in the photo looked more like a raccoon than a dog. His fur was patchy, his tail crooked, and his teeth made him look like a vampire. A stubborn spark in his eyes reminded me of his owner.
Adam nodded. “Yeah, he’s not winning any dog contests.”
“Sorry,” I said, internally slapping myself. “I’m an idiot. It’s because you keep surprising me.”
“No, it’s the truth. Rusty was so ugly I had to pay strangers on the street to pet him to make him feel better.”
“That’s the saddest, but also the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. You really did that?”
He grinned. “No. I just made it up.”
“You’re unbelievable,” I said with a sigh. “God, why am I so attracted to you when you can be such an asshole?”
“Maybe I’m your type,” he offered, scratching his chest.
“Yeah, maybe you fucking are,” I said, drinking up. “I guess I’m into tall, dark, and assholish. On a brighter note, at least you can cook, and you have a big…”
I stopped myself in the nick of time, cursing my loose tongue.
He blinked. “A big what?”
“That’s my cue to do the dishes,” I muttered, standing up. “Stop gloating and fuck off.”
He touched my hand, stopping me. “You won’t do the dishes. The dishwasher will do the dishes. You can check out the rest of the apartment. See if you can find my bedroom.”
No dishes. Look at the rest. Find the bedroom.
I was repeating it in my head when his words registered. “A what?”
Adam gave me a blank look.
“A bedroom. See if you can find my bedroom. It’s the room with a bed in it.”
“Oh,” I muttered, taking a clumsy step backward and almost knocking down a chair. “Right. Got it.”