“It was to see how many times we could make love in a single afternoon,” he said softly. “Your idea, as I recall.”
Fire raced through her, recalling that glorious day spent in naked splendor in complete privacy in the quiet cove they’d found. Gentle waves slapping against the hull, hot sun, the scent of salt water and sunshine mixed with the musk of their passion.
She had to swallow to find her voice. “My idea,” she agreed. “Although I didn’t hear any complaints.”
“Hell, no.”
Oh, boy. Flames licked under her skin at the turn of this conversation, the barrage of sensual images of the past it inspired. She needed to steer the subject to safer waters. Immediately.
“And now look at us,” she said, proud of her coolly amused tone, “almost ten years later, back at the old Stardust Diner. Eating the same artery-clogging food.”
“All because you came into Picture This last week.” He looked at her with an indecipherable expression. “I guess what they say about timing being everything is true.”
“Yes.” And it occurred to her that their entire past had been determined by the whims of timing. First she’d had a boyfriend. Then Adam had suggested they were too young to embark on an exclusive relationship. Then the few subsequent times they’d seen each other, they’d both been involved with someone.
Their timing now wasn’t any better-not that it mattered, of course. They were way past their youthful affair. Still, she couldn’t deny it gave her a feminine thrill to know he remembered so many details of their time together. Following immediately on the heels of that feminine thrill was an undeniable sense of curiosity mixed with loss. What might have happened if their timing hadn’t always been so bad?
Their gazes locked and a tingle zoomed through her at the speculation in his eyes. Could he be thinking the same thing? Not that it mattered. Not a bit. Nope.
The waitress appeared at their table and she welcomed the interruption of her runaway thoughts. “Ready to order?”
Adam laid his menu, unopened, on top of hers. “Two bacon cheeseburgers, two orders of onion rings, two chocolate shakes.”
After the waitress left, Mallory said, “Not a meal I indulge in often anymore, but on the rare occasion I come to this diner, it’s a must-have. For old times’ sake.”
“Nothing wrong with indulging yourself. For old times’ sake.”
Again their gazes held and Mallory swore something flashed in his eyes. Something that curled more of that unwanted and unsettling heat through her veins. The last thing she wanted to think about while within fifty yards of Adam Clayton was indulging herself. Definitely time get this conversation back on course.
Leaning her elbows on the Formica table she said, “Okay, spill it. What have you been doing for the past five years?”
“I can pretty much sum it up in one word-
“Oh, no. You don’t get off that easily.”
He leaned back and shrugged. “I’m not exaggerating. I’d just completed and passed all the reviews and qualifications necessary to purchase my own seat on the stock exchange when my father died.”
He paused and Mallory easily read the sadness in his eyes. The last time she’d seen Adam before she’d walked into Picture This last week had been at his dad’s funeral. Adam had looked pale and drawn, his expression bleak, and her heart had broken for him and his family. Without thinking, she reached out and laid her hand over his.
And instantly realized her error.
She’d meant it only to be a friendly gesture of sympathy, an innocent show of understanding, but there was nothing innocent about the jolt of desire that shot through her by touching him. Her first reaction was to snatch her hand away as if he’d burned her, but that would make her look like an idiot. And God help her, she really liked the way his warm, strong hand felt beneath hers.
After licking her suddenly dry lips, she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Adam. I know how close you and your father were.”
He glanced down at her hand resting on his and a muscle jerked in his jaw. “He was only forty-eight.”
“I know.” She gently withdrew her hand, then settled it on her lap, so she could clasp her fingers together to retain the warmth of his skin without him knowing.
Looking up, he rested his gaze on hers. “There’s no doubt that the stress of the job contributed greatly to his heart attack, and I could easily see the exact same thing happening to me a few years down the road. He willed his seat on the exchange to me, and my first reaction was to just sell it. Walk away. And I almost did. But I felt such a connection to him there. I found I couldn’t just abandon all the plans we’d made together.”
“So you stayed.”
“Yes. Took over the seat. But I promised myself I wouldn’t let what happened to him happen to me. I wasn’t going to work myself into an early grave. I gave myself until my thirty-fifth birthday as a deadline-that was enough time to save and plan and also a good time to reassess my life and goals. So, for the last five years I worked like a dog. Devoted all my time and energy to the job. Saved and invested wisely. Good thing, because three months ago, fate stepped in in the form of chest pains.”
Her shocked concern must have shown on her face because he quickly shook his head. “Not a heart attack. Doctor said it was stress. That if I didn’t change my lifestyle, reduce my stress levels, learn to relax, given my family history I was headed in the exact direction I’d sworn I’d never take. Couple weeks later I sold my seat on the exchange. Called it a thirtieth birthday present to myself-a gift that would insure I was around to celebrate my fortieth and live to a ripe old age.”
“So you’ve been working at Picture This for the past two months?”
“No. My mom and grandmother moved to South Carolina after my dad died. I spent the first three weeks visiting them.” A crooked smile curved his lips. “It was great. I hadn’t taken a vacation in five years, and they spoiled me rotten. Home-cooked meals every night, sleeping in late. I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed.
“Then I spent the next month finishing the basement in Nick’s house for him. With the baby on the way, he needed the extra room, and I really enjoyed working with my hands again. Nothing like hammering in Sheetrock and smearing Spackle to clear the mind.”
A memory of him, shirtless, sweaty, gorgeous, wielding a hammer as he built a shed in his family’s backyard, flashed through her mind, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Forcing a smile, she said, “I’ll take your word for it-but I recall that you liked to spackle and smear.”
“Yup. When I finished the basement, Nick asked me if I’d like to pitch in at the studio until after the baby was born. Since I had the time and hadn’t decided what I wanted to do career-wise yet, I figured why not? I started two days before you walked through the door.”
Her brows shot upward. “Two days? Just how much experience do you have as a photographer?”
He grinned. “You were my first customer.”
Fire rushed into her cheeks. She folded her arms across her chest and drummed her fingers against her arm, half annoyed, half amused. “You failed to mention that before I started posing in my lingerie.”
“Damn right. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“Incorrigible is more like it.”
“A minute ago I was a knight in shining armor.”
“Times change.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, it’s not as if I’d never used a camera before. You’re looking at the former vice president of Kennedy High School’s photography club.”
Her lips twitched. “A ringing endorsement.”
He didn’t add,
“Take a look at the pictures,” he said. “If you don’t like them, I’ll reschedule you so Nick can take them.”
The instant the words left Adam’s mouth, he felt a frown pull down his brows. Somehow the thought of Nick taking photos of Mallory in her sexy lingerie didn’t sit well.
Cripes, he was really losing his marbles. Nick was happily married. And Mallory had a boyfriend-the guy these pictures were taken for. And somehow that thought didn’t sit well, either. Damn.
And it suddenly hit him that this lunch hadn’t been a good idea. Seeing her, spending time with her, reminiscing
