Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
D esperate times called for desperate measures. Adam hoped to hell his new plan would work. If he knew when Tracy walked out of his cabin at seven he’d never make love to her again, he’d carry this obsession to his grave.
Would she do the same? Hard to say. But he doubted she’d be hunky-dory if they ended their experiment in the morning. They needed more time.
Given that time, they’d discover that the sex was good but not the life-changing event it seemed to be right now. Then they’d be able to let it go.
While he brewed some coffee and wrangled cream, sugar and mugs, she dished the stew and sliced the loaf of zucchini bread Greta had made him a couple days ago. They moved efficiently through the tasks.
They’d had a knack for working together ever since their third-grade teacher had paired them up to create a diorama about Montana wildlife. Tracy was best friends with Mila, but they tended to get in each other’s way when sharing a project, even with simple stuff.
He poured the coffee and brought it to the table. “Remember our diorama?”
“Funny you should mention that.” She took the seat she always took, the one where she could see out the kitchen door to the living room. She called it the power seat. “I thought of it when I went home today. I hadn’t checked on it in a while.”
He sat down across from her. “And?” They’d drawn straws to see who got to take the diorama home.
“It’s fine. Needs dusting.” She spooned sugar into her coffee, added cream and stirred. “I’ve had it for twenty-two years. I think you should have it for the next twenty-two.” She tapped her spoon on the rim of the mug before setting it on the plate under her stew bowl.
He'd watched her coffee routine hundreds of times, yet tonight the familiarity of it tightened his chest. “Are you tired of keeping it?”
“No. It still makes me smile, especially the clay moose you made.”
“He hasn’t fallen apart?” He started eating his stew.
“Why would he? We put Mod Podge on all the animals.”
“Twenty-two years ago. Your closet must be a perfect environment. Better leave it over there.”
“I’ll be glad to, but if you change your mind, it’s yours.”
“Speaking of changing minds….”
She put down her coffee and steepled her hands over her plate, another Tracy move. “I’m gonna nix whatever you come up with. You should know that in advance. One night is my limit.”
“Okay, I accept that.”
“You do?” Was that a flicker of disappointment in her eyes? She picked up her spoon and dug into her stew. “Then I guess there’s nothing more to discuss.”
“Yes, there is.”
“What?”
“Days.”
She paused, her spoon in midair, and stared at him. “Are you nuts? Carrying on under your family’s nose at night is difficult enough, but in broad daylight it would be impossible.”
“Not if we change the venue.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Between the work on the house and keeping up with my duties as mayor, I’m driving into town almost every weekday. Nobody will think anything about it if they spot my truck in the courthouse parking lot.”
“So what? I’ll be working.”
“Are you booked solid next week?”
“Not every hour of the day, but I—hang on, are you suggesting you’ll come by for?—”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Check your calendar and tell me when you don’t have a client and I’ll slot those times into my schedule. If nothing else, we can skip lunch and grab a sandwich later.”
“That’s insane! You can’t be popping into my office every day. That will look suspicious as hell.”
“You only think so because you know why I’m doing it. Everyone else will see a harried mayor who’s dealing with a complicated legal issue.”
Her breath hitched. “It won’t work.”
“Why not?”
“You’re asking me to pause in the middle of the day, run upstairs and have a quickie with you, then pull myself together and go meet my next client.”
“When you put it that way, it sounds even more fun than I first imagined.”
She rolled her eyes. “What if someone just stops in, hoping to catch me even though they don’t have an appointment? That happens. Auntie Kat is famous for it.”
“You have one of those signs that says you’ll be back at such-and-such. I’ve seen it, the one with the clock face.”
“Well, yeah, but?—”
“There’s your solution. We’ll lock the door and put up the sign.”
“We’ll be caught. You know this town. Everyone’s out and about, gossiping about this or that.”
“But me coming over to your office and staying for less than an hour will look totally natural. I’m the mayor and you’re my legal eagle. Hell, if we hadn’t been avoiding each other like the plague these past weeks, I would’ve been stopping by your office all the time. We weren’t speaking so I chose to text and email.”
She steepled her hands again. “I still say we’ll get tripped up.”
“I’ll bring props with me. I’ll carry that briefcase I never use. If I meet anyone coming or going, I’ll reference some legal issue.”
“Like what?”
“The road project. Environmental concerns if they need to do any blasting.”
She focused on a point over his left shoulder for a few seconds. Then she met his gaze. “Look, I’m not saying yes to this outlandish idea, but if I temporarily lose my mind and agree to it, how many days are we talking about?”
His breath caught. She was considering it. “This week and next. Weekdays only.”
“That’s too long.”
Should he push? No. “A week, then. Not even a whole week. Five days, through this Friday.”
“Valentine’s Day.”
“I know. Not the ideal day to call a halt. That’s another reason to go for two weeks.”
“I can ignore Valentine’s Day.”
“Me, too.” He could ignore a herd of elk stampeding through town if she’d agree to this new plan.
“What do you hope to accomplish?”
“It’ll give us time for the novelty to wear off. You know that old expression the honeymoon’s over? Most honeymoons don’t last beyond two weeks, which is why I suggested?—”
“Not happening.”
“Then I hope five days will do the trick.”
“Six counting tonight.”
“Six. I guarantee we’ll need them all. We’re looking for humdrum, which we might achieve doing it every day for five days, but ten would be a lot better.”
“Forget that. I will not have you popping in and out of my office two weeks in a row.”
“But you’d go for one week?” He held his breath.
“I need to think about it.”
“That’s better than a no.” He started eating again. ‘Thanks for bringing the stew. It’s good.”
“My dad’s recipe.” She tucked into hers. “I figured you’d like it.”
“It’s great.” But he didn’t want to linger. The bed by the fire was calling to him. The sooner they finished, the sooner they could return to it.
“What if six days isn’t enough? What if we still want to?—”
“By then you’ll see how well it works and I’ll try to talk you into five more days.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re determined to get that second week.”
He smiled. “Persistence is my superpower.”
“Which is why we’ll get that road through the mountains.” She picked up a piece of zucchini bread. “It’s an admirable quality. But….”
“Not when I’m using it on you?”
“Yeah! I mean what’s with this fixation on two weeks? You seem positive that we’ll get bored with having sex in that time. Do you know that from personal experience?”
“Not really. It just stands to reason that if you follow a routine it will become routine.”
“Humdrum.”
“Right.” But when he looked into those blue eyes, when he could guess what she was thinking by the flush on her cheeks…. getting from there to humdrum might take a hell of a lot longer than two weeks.