Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
M el walked into the living room as the front door closed behind Adam. Her sadness only worsened as the sound of his bike engine faded away into the night. Waldo purred, following her. She picked him up, then settled on the sofa, feeling…empty.
She’d never really considered him saying no. Now she needed moral support to bolster her flagging spirits. She grabbed her phone from the coffee table where she’d dropped it earlier and dialed Lily’s number.
Her best friend answered on the first ring, and Mel poured out her story of the past hour, nuzzling Waldo’s furry head in-between tears.
“Oh, hon. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Lilly asked when she was done. “Want me to go to Victory Vets tomorrow and kick his butt for you?”
“No.” Mel swiped her hand across her damp cheeks. “I guess I just expected… more .”
“Well, that was your first mistake.” Lilly sighed. “Never count on a guy for ‘more.’ I’ve learned that the hard way.”
Mel winced at the edge in her best friend’s voice. The sharpness rivaled any scalpel. Waldo jumped down, and Mel sat up, doing her best to shake off the melancholy that had set in after unloading all her angst over Adam’s rejection. “I’m not sure what to do now. He was basically my whole idea.”
“Mistake two, hon. Never bet on only one stallion.” Lilly sighed. “What you need now is a plan B. You’ve already done the hardest part—deciding to make a change. Don’t let this bump in the road stop you.”
Only problem was, Mel’s feelings for Adam seemed more like a Mount Everest-size issue than a tiny molehill.
Besides, she was so tired of the dating treadmill. And the thought of more failed first dates, more online searches, more mixing and mingling…
Ugh. It all sounded tedious, daunting, and depressing.
“Mel? You still there?” Lilly asked. “C’mon, girl. Don’t give up.”
“I don’t know.” Mel flopped back against the cushions and looked up at the ceiling as she thought about the M&Ms in the kitchen. How they’d both arranged them on the counter. Adam had never once made fun of her little obsession for orderliness. He’d just gone along with it, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Like she was normal.
Fresh tears prickled behind her eyes and Mel angrily blinked them away. This was ridiculous. She was tired of crying. She’d been rejected plenty of times in the last few months and she’d always gotten oner it. Lilly was right. She wasn’t a quitter. She needed to get back out there and get the job done.
Resolved, Mel pushed to her feet and back into the kitchen to shove the candy jar back into its spot in the corner, the phone tucked between her jaw and shoulder. “Fine. I’ll go ahead with the makeover on my own. Then I’ll worry about dating.”
“I’ll help, too. When’s your next day off?”
“This Friday. Why?”
“Let me see if I can get you an appointment with my stylist at the salon I use in Indy. I’ll try to take the day off, too, to go with you. Marguerite’s great. We’ll get your hair and makeup done, the works. Then we can do lunch and shopping before we come home.” Lilly’s smile was evident through her voice. “I bet once the men of Point Beacon get a load of the new Melody Bryant, your perpetual virginity problem will take care of itself.”
Mel snorted as she slid Adam’s dirty glass into the dishwasher. A glance at the clock above the stove showed it was close to ten now. She had to be up early for work in the morning. Tuesday was senior day, and they bused patrons in from all the surrounding towns for lectures and crafts and all sorts of literary fun. “Let’s hope so. Okay, I need to go. Thanks for listening, and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”
After she ended the call, Mel stared at her reflection in the dark window over the sink. Her conservative outfit seemed too snug and out of place now. Not that she wanted to run around in lingerie, but things needed to change. She needed to change. No more dressing for comfort in outdated clothes.
No more hiding.
She knew the upscale salon Lilly went to was located in a trendy suburban mall on Indy’s northwest side called Copperfield Downs. Mel had been there once and had marveled at all the designer boutiques. No more shopping the clearance rack at the local secondhand store because the thought of going into a fashionable store in the big city was too intimidating.
For the first time since Adam had kindly kicked her to the curb, Mel’s anticipation grew.
After locking up her house and turning off the lights for the night, she practically skipped to bed with Waldo in tow.
Change was definitely in the air.
Adam took a slow ride around town once he left Mel’s house, hoping to calm his racing mind. Point Beacon wasn’t big, just under six thousand residents, so the grand tour didn’t take long. In the end, he wound up back at Victory Vets because it was his go-to place in town for peace. When the world outside got too nuts, when memories of his time in the military haunted his dreams, when the gnawing loneliness of being alone in the world threatened to take him under, this was where he came. There was something about tinkering with greasy old engine parts that soothed his savage beast.
Now, though, even as he was hard at work tearing apart a Hemi V8 to locate the source of leaking fluid, he couldn’t seem to get Mel and the things she’d told him earlier out of his head. She’d been so open, so vulnerable.
So available.
Nope. No, no, no.
He’d made the right choice, walking away. She’d needed help, but she was far better off without him. He’d only cause her trouble, because that’s what he did. Lord knew his dad had beat that into him enough as a kid. He wasn’t good enough, wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t successful enough for a woman like Mel.
Chicken.
And yeah, she scared him too. Not because he couldn’t see himself with her but because he could. He’d told her the truth, though, he couldn’t risk all the good things he had now. They were all he had left.
A key grated in the door lock, and Adam peered around the side of the hood of the pickup to see who was there at this ungodly hour.
Miguel, his second-in-command, strolled into the garage. “What’s up, dude? I saw the lights on and thought somebody was breaking in. It’s after midnight. What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” Adam wiped his greasy hands on a towel. They’d served together in Syria and survived some of the worst firefights side by side. Experiences like that forged bonds stronger than steel. His old friend looked tired tonight, though, evidenced by the dark circles under Miguel’s eyes. Probably because he and his fiancée were expecting a baby on top of planning a wedding. He doubted poor Miguel was getting much sleep these days.
“Everything okay at home?” Adam asked him.
“Yep.” Miguel flashed a tired smile. “Camille’s craving ice cream and bacon, so I was sent to the store to get some. What about you? Lady troubles again?”
Adam shrugged, then went back to working on the truck engine. He didn’t really want to get into what happened with him and Mel tonight, especially with Miguel. The guy was far too perceptive for his own good. That’s what had made them both such great soldiers and what made them such pains in the ass as friends sometimes. With Miguel you got all honesty, all the time.
“Uh-huh.” Miguel leaned in beneath the other side of the truck’s open hood. “I see.”
“What?” Adam growled, not looking up.
“Go ahead and tell me about her.”
“There is no ‘her.’” Adam straightened so quickly he nearly conked his head on the hood. “I’m not interested in dating anybody. You know that.”
Miguel fiddled with the fuel lines. “Don’t have to date someone to have problems. Look at Jag and Hollywood.”
Michael “Jag” Collins had recently joined their staff at Victory Vets. He was an excellent mechanic, despite losing an arm courtesy of a bombing in Yemen. He’d been with the navy’s legal corps, thus the nickname. And Hollywood was actually Sara Deacons. She’d been in the coast guard out in California and had been the best marine mechanic on the West Coast. Her nickname came from her talent with explosives, grand enough to rival any John Wick movie.
Adam had always thought maybe there was an attraction between Hollywood and fast-talking, hard-living Jag, but it was only a hunch. Anyway, Sara had gotten herself caught up in some nonsense on base one night and asked for an early discharge. She didn’t talk about it, and the guys at Victory Vets didn’t ask. It was an unwritten rule. Still, she and Jag were always betting each other to do dumb stuff, always trying to show each other up. It was a bit too competitive for Adam’s tastes, but whatever floated their boats, he supposed.
Miguel was still staring at Adam, one brow raised, waiting for a response. The guy could wait all night for all Adam cared.
He got back to work under the hood, as much to avoid answering his friend as to straighten out his own thoughts.
Mel wasn’t so much a problem as she was a temptation. One he’d be wise to steer clear of. His head knew that. Now if someone would just tell the rest of him, he’d be all set.
She was untouchable. She was off-limits.
She was so darned cute.
The screwdriver slipped, cutting Adam’s thumb. “Son of a?—”
He yanked his hand out of the truck and walked over the nearby sink to wash his hands. Mel was turning into a distraction he didn’t need.
One night, one conversation, one reunion was all it took to get her stuck in his craw again, not that she’d ever really gone far. She’d been a part of his life since he’d met James in high school.
She felt like family, but she wasn’t. Not really.
The whole time Adam bandaged his cut, he felt the weight of Miguel’s gaze on him, watching him, silently mocking him, most likely. God, was he that obvious?
“You might as well tell me who she is,” Miguel said, walking over to where Adam stood near the first aid kit. “I’ll find out anyway, eventually.”
“Huh?” Adam said, trying to play dumb.
It didn’t work. Miguel persisted. “Hey, I understand. The first time I met Camille, she knocked me for such a loop, I didn’t know whether I was coming or going for weeks. Got all those warm fuzzies and crap. It was awful.”
Adam shook his head, chuckling. He was acting like an idiot and he knew it, but man. Little Melody Bryant, all grown up and asking him to practice date her and teach her all about men and sex? How the hell was he supposed to cope with that?
“Sorry.” Adam winced as he closed the first aid kit and returned to the truck. “You’re right. I got a thing going on.”
“Say that again.”
“A thing?”
“No. The me being right part. I never hear that anymore, so I want to savor it.” Miguel snorted. “And what kind of ‘thing’ exactly?” He waggled his brows. “You hook up with another garage groupie? The blonde? Jag said he was gonna try to tap that, too.”
“Jag’s an idiot.” Adam sighed. “And no. This is someone I knew before I got deployed. I’m not tapping anything.”
“Ah, an old flame.”
“No. More like an old friend.” Mel had been his friend, a good one. At least, before she’d offered herself up to him that night on her parents’ porch and things between them had gotten weird. He’d figured that was all in the past though, until she’d basically done the same thing again tonight. He liked directness, in life and in Mel.
More than he should.
Adam exhaled and got back to tinkering with the engine. He shouldn’t go there. He hadn’t gone there with Mel, even though she’d all but begged him to. Twice. They should give him a medal for his frigging fortitude.
But each time he thought of Mel—her big green eyes so full of hope and hurt, her silky dark hair rippling down her back in soft waves. Hell, even her prim library clothes that hugged her curves in all the right places—it combined to make Adam question the wisdom of his choices.
The trouble was though that he knew better than to think Mel would give up on this crazy scheme of hers just because he’d turned her down. Once she got an idea in her head, she followed through. So, if he was crossed off her list, she’d move on to the next option. A man who might not be as chivalrous as Adam. And the thought of some dude pawing and pushing Mel to do things she wasn’t ready for made his blood burn.
Gah! He hadn’t thought about that before, but he should have. If anyone was going to teach Mel how to attract a guy, it should be him.
Except, it shouldn’t.
Right?
Adam pried off a stubborn oil cap with more force than necessary. He was in a horrible Catch 22 here, right back where he’d started again. Work wasn’t even helping at all tonight.
Frustrated, he straightened and tossed his tools aside. He was tired and stressed and in no mood or frame of mind to even consider this mess right now. Time to go home and go to bed.
Miguel waited for him by the exit while Adam shut off the lights. They walked out into the warm early July night together.
“So, what are you gonna do about this woman?” Miguel asked.
“No idea, man,” Adam said as he swung his leg over his bike and started the engine. “Now get that bacon and get home to your fiancée, dude. And don’t forget the ice cream.”