9
ADAM
I had a damn problem.
And it wasn't just my neighbor's rat who seemed to think I was his babysitter while his human was away during the day.
The little shit had showed up on my doorstep three days ago and no matter how many times I'd carted him back, he kept following me home.
Which in turn meant I had to take him back in the afternoons when my neighbor got off work, or wherever the hell she spent her days.
Then of course that led me to spending a few minutes telling my gorgeous but annoying neighbor to keep her dog on her side of the fence while she stared at me with those whiskey eyes, thinking who knew what.
Her open study of me should've made me feel uncomfortable. I didn't like being under anyone's spotlight. But every time she trained her gaze on me, something shifted. I didn't understand it, nor did I attempt to make sense of it. I just knew it was there, simmering below the surface.
Unfortunately, that was only half of the problem .
The rest of it bowled down to the simple fact that instead of coming out in the morning and stumbling across my light-footed neighbor, I now waited for her. Waited like a thief in the shadows to steal a tiny bit of joy radiating off her when she swayed and twirled like no one was watching.
My beach ballerina.
Even though the dancing she was doing was more contemporary than ballet. Yeah, I'd spent an embarrassing amount of time on the internet trying to find out what exactly it was she was doing. And I'd wanted to find out whether it was any kind of dancing that calmed me or if it was only her.
No points for guessing which one it was.
From my current perch behind my sliding door, I caught movement coming from the general direction of my neighbor's yard and I immediately shifted a little more to my left to remain out of sight.
I remained there for about a minute before gingerly opening the door and slipping outside. Long, easy strides carried me to the edge of my property, an unfamiliar zing zipping through my veins.
Until my gaze locked onto her.
In an instant, a sense of calm I had no right to wrapped itself around me like a thick blanket. My chest rose and fell with the deep drag of air I sucked to my lungs over and over again. I wanted to tip my head toward the sun and just be in that small moment of contentment.
The only thing stopping me from doing just that was the woman on the beach kicking up a cloud of sand .
How would it feel to be in the middle of that? To watch her spin and leap around me. To be close enough to learn what her hair smelled like. Or to feel her skin against mine. I wanted to know what that sweet voice of hers sounded like when she was all breathy from dancing for hours and hours.
Yeah, I had a problem all right, and it was painfully obvious who was at the center of it.
And it was because of this problem that I could tell there was something off with her routine. Her movements were sharp and choppy. Almost angry. I felt the shift inside of me, the anxious feeling of needing to know why she was upset.
I brought my hand to my chest and brushed my fingers over the scars beneath my shirt, completely transfixed on the woman slamming her fists in the sand. Her leg kicked back and, in a blink, she was on her feet again, hands reaching for an imaginary anchor in front of her.
I felt her anger, her pain, with every rough jerk of her body. She leaped through the air but instead of landing on both her feet like she usually did, she stumbled to her side before collapsing onto the sand.
Her hands shot out to her ankle, her face contorting with what I could only presume was pain. My feet were moving before my brain had time to issue the command. Sprinting down the little path that led to the beach, I reached her in mere seconds.
There was no conscious thought to my actions when I bent over and shoved my arm under her knees and hoisted her up.
Not until the feeling of her body—even though it was just the side of her—was pressed up against me.
Standing in a puddle with live wires touching the water from every angle wouldn't have had the same impact as her skin touching mine had.
Electricity zipped and zapped through my body without any sense of direction. I didn't know if I wanted to hold my breath or suck in a deep drag of air.
"What the hell are you doing?" the woman in my arms demanded. And because I couldn't speak, I hefted her higher and started walking toward the path. "Oh my goodness, would you freaking stop manhandling me!"
That did it. The fog clouding my brain dissipated like mist before the sun. In a move that probably wasn't very nice, I roughly deposited her back on her ass… in the sand. "Owww." She had the audacity to glare at me as if I was to blame for her pain.
Planting my hands on my hips, I narrowed my eyes. "Don't look at me like that. I was only trying to help you."
"Help me?" she cried. "You came barging down here like a freaking caveman and all but threw me over your shoulder."
Exasperated, I threw my arms in the air. "I was helping you, woman!" I jerked my chin in the direction of her leg. "How are you going to get back to your place on that?"
She pulled her shoulders back and inadvertently pushed her breasts forward. I tried not to look. I really did. But beneath the scars and pissy exterior, I was still a red- blooded man. And they were so perky yet full and would probably fit perfectly in—
"I can manage on my own." At her fierce admission, my gaze snapped back to her face. Brows pulled together; she was studying her ankle, which was a good thing considering where my attention had been a moment ago.
Those whiskey eyes flicked to mine and she held out her hand. "All right. If you could just help me up, I should be good."
Both my arms came up as I took a step back. "I thought you said you could manage on your own ." I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep the grin from spreading when I threw her words back at her.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. And if she wasn't sitting on her ass with what I had a feeling was a sprained ankle, I might've felt the tiniest bit intimidated. "You're such a dick," she muttered.
And I really was. Because I stood there without so much as lifting a finger while she struggled to her feet. Straightening her spine, she pinned me with a stare so fierce my balls almost shriveled up.
And just to drive home the big FU she was throwing my way; she took a step forward and immediately winced. My feet shifted, but it was the tight shake of her head that kept me rooted to the spot.
She attempted to take another step; her entire face scrunched up in pain. Her chest was heaving, and her hands balled up into tight, white-knuckled fists at her sides.
"This is bullshit." That was the only warning I gave her before I surged forward and scooped her up once more.
If I thought holding her against me was intense before, it had nothing on the feeling that zipped through me when she willingly draped her arms around my neck. Everywhere she touched felt like it had a million nerve endings attached to it. All of them lighting up at once.
I forced my feet to move. The faster I got her home, the quicker I could retreat. Three steps into my plan and I had to stop. Eyeing her out of the corner of my eye—because I couldn't stand to look straight at her when she was so close—I asked, "Where's Fugly?"
A heavy sigh pushed past her lips. The faintest hint of strawberry tickling my nose when she shook her head. "His name is Sheldon and he's home."
Without acknowledging her words, I started moving again.
A soft breeze picked up and lifted her hair, the light tresses brushing over my cheek.
There was no stopping the string of curses that fell from my lips when all I wanted to do was shut my eyes and take that strawberry scent straight to my lungs.
She must've thought I was pissed off at her because she quickly gathered her hair together and mumbled an apology. I couldn't even speak past whatever the hell I was feeling so I only managed a grunt.
The woman in my arms let out another sigh, her warm breath fluttering over the side of my neck. "How did you know I was hurt?"
"What?" The word sounded rough to my own ears so I couldn't even imagine what it sounded like to her.
"You were there moments after I fell. How did you know?"
I was pretty sure my ears were turning some shade of red or pink at the very least. I couldn't tell her the truth; I knew exactly how messed up it sounded. Shrugging the shoulder she wasn't pressed to, I kept my voice steady. "Good timing, I guess."
The side of my face burned with the intensity of her stare. Still, I didn't dare look at her. I kept my attention straight ahead until we reached her sliding door.
The damn thing was cracked open a few inches again.
I aimed my glare at the door instead of her. "You really should lock your doors. It's not safe leaving it open like this."
She patted my chest, the heat of her palm searing me through the fabric of my shirt. I ground my back molars to the point of pain. "It's a small town." She huffed. "Nothing bad happens here."
"You can't really be that—"
"That what?"
I wasn't fooled by her cool tone. I knew enough to know when a woman spoke with such measured calmness, you shut your mouth and retreated to a safe distance.
Without another word, I slid the door all the way open and stepped inside her house. I couldn't explain why but it felt oddly intimate. I hated the feeling. Striding over to the couch, I set her down before stalking to her kitchen without asking for permission.
It felt a bit intrusive to be rummaging through her freezer, but I kept reminding myself that she would have told me to get the hell out if she minded. Once I found what I was looking for, I made my way back to where she was curled up with Fugly, I mean Sheldon, nestled against her.
Covertly, I took a few fortifying breaths before I straightened her leg and slid one of her decorative pillows under her foot.
Once it was elevated, I pressed the bag of frozen peas against her swollen ankle.
She instantly hissed out a breath and jerked upright, which pulled a whine from her dog before he gave her cheek a meaningful lick.
"I think you sprained it," I told her.
She eyed her foot. "Yeah."
I had zero clues what to do next. Dragging a hand along the back of my neck, I took a step backward and then another and another. Just as I wanted to spin around and get the hell out of there, her soft, "Wait" stopped me in my tracks.
Not daring to move a step closer, I simply stared at her. She nibbled on her lip, it was the first sign of nervousness I'd seen on her since we met. "Thanks for the help." Her sugary sweet voice slid over my skin leaving a trail of goosebumps.
"Sure." My throat felt scratchy, I barely fought the urge to clear it.
"I'm Maddie, by the way. "
I closed my eyes. I didn't want to put a name to that gorgeous face and sweet voice. She was already screwing with my equilibrium as a nameless stranger. How much worse would it be now that I knew what she felt like, smelled like? Now that I had a name to whisper in the dark.
Slowly; very, very slowly, I opened my eyes, my gaze immediately colliding with her warm one. "Adam."
"Adam," she echoed, and I had to flee.