Helen Brenna - Redemption at Mirabelle

She would’ve sworn she could hear him talking, possibly on the phone. Holding her breath, she strained to listen. Whether real or imagined, there was no doubt he had a nice voice, deep and calming. And that faint touch of a Southern accent? Mmm. What would it feel like to kiss that lush lower lip? To nip at him softly? To feel that big, warm body around her, over her?

Oh, hell.

Needing a distraction, she picked up the romance Missy had given her the other day. If nothing else, it would put her to sleep. By page ten she realized her mistake. She was going to be up for a long, long while.

“WE’RE LATE,” MARIN WHISPERED as she followed Missy into the large room at the community center amidst an uproarious discussion.

The town meeting, apparently one of many that would be had over the coming months to discuss the progress on Mirabelle’s rebuilding, had started several minutes earlier. As quietly as possible, she slid after Missy into the first available seats in the last row.

“Didn’t you just recently have one of these meetings?”

Missy nodded. “The engineers finished with their building assessments and Adam wanted to go through the results in person.”

“So what was the point in dragging me here?”

Missy grinned. “Because I want you to come to the yoga class I’m teaching right after this.”

“Yoga?” Marin rolled her eyes. She should’ve guessed something was up when her sister had also suggested Marin wear something loose fitting and comfortable. Why did it not surprise her that her vegetarian, tree-hugging little sis was also a yogi?

“And I wanted to introduce you to some of my friends.” Missy pointed toward the front of the room. “Sarah is one of the council members. She’s sitting up at the table next to Garrett.”

An old woman in front of them shifted and glared pointedly at Marin. “Shh!”

After the hag turned back around, Missy grinned and whispered in Marin’s ear. “Mrs. Gilbert. Runs a mean bed-and-breakfast inn.”

Marin snapped her mouth closed and looked toward the front. Several townspeople were sitting behind a long table, but it was Adam who captured and held her interest. For close to an hour, she listened to him field one question after another in a detached and unemotional, but somehow compassionate, mode.

People were angry and frustrated. There were any number of times islanders said things clearly inflammatory in nature and Adam not only didn’t react, he also managed to defuse every one of those situations, turning them to his advantage. You couldn’t teach a man that kind of control over his emotions.

What would it feel like to snap his concentration? To release his power, his energy behind closed doors, to feel his passion running wild? Nothing like Colin’s lukewarm attention, that’s for sure. She’d always dated professional, white-collar men. Intellectuals. Thinkers, not doers, but Adam seemed to bridge that gap. Maybe her mother—her own mother—had been right. Maybe what Marin needed right now more than anything was no-strings-attached sex. Hot, passionate, burn the bedsheets sex. Maybe Adam Harding was man enough to wipe away every bad memory of Colin. But was Marin woman enough?

The thought had barely entered her mind when the town meeting abruptly wrapped up. Suddenly, Missy was introducing Marin to several people. Then she asked, “Coming to my yoga class?”

Marin shrugged. “No offense, but I’m not really into yoga.”

“You should try it,” Sarah said. “Missy’s a very good teacher.”

“I’m sure she is.” Marin chuckled. “But I’m more of a…kickboxing kind of woman. I think I’ll just go home.”

Missy looked disappointed, but she’d live.

Marin turned to head for the exit and almost ran into Adam’s back. She put her hands out to steady herself. “Sorry. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

He turned. “Hey, there. I’m surprised to see you here. Find it interesting? Or entertaining?”

“I thought you were nothing short of amazing,” she said honestly.

“I’m not too sure about that.” He laughed, although he looked tired and wrung out, and who could blame him after the way the locals had raked him over the coals.

“How do you do what you do?”

“What do you mean?” he said as they pushed through the exit doors and stepped out into the cool evening air.

“There was so much emotion in that room. At one point, it was so tense you would’ve needed a stainless steel blade to cut the air.”

“I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

By unspoken agreement they both turned in the direction of their tree-canopied street. “I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. “Either you have an incredible gift, or you have ice running through your veins. Which is it?”

“Those are the only two options?” He grinned. “Then I’ll go with ice.”

No way.

“I’ve been in the construction business a very long time,” he explained. “Something always manages to go wrong, no matter how well you plan. There are just too many variables out of a contractor’s control. You either learn how to deal, or you get ulcers. Maybe I like spicy food too much.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “What about you? Wall Street can’t be a cakewalk.”

“It’s a bit on the intense side, yes.”

“Coming to Mirabelle must be like going from sixty to zero in the blink of an eye. You missing it yet?”

“The first couple of days were tough, but now?” She thought for a moment. “I don’t miss it much. Surprisingly.”

“What about your fiancé. Missing him?”

“There’s another surprise. No.” She laughed. “Finding the man you’re about to marry in bed with his best friend has a way of altering things…in the blink of an eye.”

“His best friend?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“You know, I don’t really want to talk about him.” She managed a smile. “There was a lot of truth to what you said that first night. I dodged a bullet.”

He frowned, clearly still disconcerted about making light of her situation. By this time they’d reached their houses. Rather than head up his sidewalk, he stopped and held her gaze. “He lied to you. That’s not your fault.”

“No, but it doesn’t stop me from wondering if I’d somehow caused it.” If maybe it was her fault that she didn’t turn him on. Maybe she wasn’t feminine enough. Not sexy enough. There was one way to find out. “So I was thinking…maybe we could…I don’t know. Go out to dinner some night.”

“Dinner?” His entire body went still. “You mean just the two of us? That’s not a good idea.”

The intensity of his eyes belied his words. “I’m not talking about anything serious, Adam. Just dinner.” Dessert, hopefully, would come later.

“Sorry. Widower, remember? The kids. The way I move around.” He shook his head. “I don’t date.”

“So that’s it?”

His gaze traveled all over her face and settled on her lips. His eyes darkened, almost as if he might reconsider. Then he turned and started up the walk. “That’s it.”

Apparently, she wasn’t woman enough for Adam Harding, either. That is, if she bought his excuse lock, stock and barrel. Which she didn’t. Colin and his betrayal might’ve thrown Marin for a loop, but she was pretty sure Adam was attracted to her and fighting it.

This wasn’t over. Not yet, anyway.

A DATE. ADAM HADN’T BEEN on a real date since high school, since Beth. Even if he could fathom returning to that scene, he wouldn’t have had a clue what to do, how to act, what was appropriate. Not that Marin hadn’t tempted him with her offer.

As he opened the front door to his house and stepped inside, he glanced back at Marin. Head down and lost in thought, she was stalking back to her house like a woman on a mission. Very likely, she wasn’t used to taking no for an answer. Cool, calm and all-business women had never really been his type, but she sure filled out running gear nicely.