The Deal Between Us Pt. 02

Chapter 11

Adrian Wolfe has some nerve waltzing into the town dance just to badger me yet again. Why can't he just leave well enough alone and understand the property is mine and I will fight tooth and nail to make sure it stays mine, even if that means bankrupting myself in the process?

I can't get away fast enough. Putting space between myself and that ogre is priority number one, and my ballet flats slap the sidewalk in my hasty retreat toward my house. Anger rumbles the sky overhead and judging by the way the wind whips around me tossing my skirt, I will be drenched before I make it up the steep hill of my driveway, but Gloria gave me a ride into town and I have no ride home. Since the dance is still going on and Gloria is probably enjoying herself, I have no choice but to walk.

A chill prickles my skin and I hug my arms over my stomach. The puffed cap sleeves of my dress offer zero protection against the wind, and I shiver as the temperature drops drastically by the minute. The storm will be a doozy, but hopefully there is no hail. I'll have nowhere to get out of the danger if it does.

I glance over my shoulder as I begin my descent down the hill. I have an eerie feeling I'm being watched, followed maybe. After that man showed up in my driveway harassing me, it's a very real possibility, but I can't go back. I won't give Adrian the satisfaction of knowing I am vulnerable. He thinks he needs to rescue me like some waif tied to a set of railroad tracks, but I'm anything but helpless.

When I moved to Johnson City, I had to live in my car for three weeks while I searched for an apartment after the one I put a deposit on wasn't ready. Didn't dare tell Daddy either or he'd have made me come back home. It worked out and I'm stronger for it.

This situation with the house is the same.

Light sprinkles begin, and they make my legs work faster, carrying me one hasty. step at a time homeward. With everyone in town at the dance still, there are no cars on the street, no one to flag down for a ride, so I tuck my chin and let the wind tangle my hair. Still the creepy sensation on the back of my neck that I'm being watched lingers. I move faster, trying to put it out of my head. Nothing bad happens in this town; I'm just imagining things.

After no more than ten minutes of walking, I see headlights crest the hill behind me and a car approaches. I'm freezing now, getting wet from the light precipitation ahead of the storm front, and honestly I don't want to walk the next mile by myself in the dark with a storm coming. And the chances of this being that horrible man hounding me for money my father owed him are slim. So I turn and raise my hand, and flag it around in the air. I don't recognize the car--until it stops next to me.

The black BMW is the last thing I want to see right now. I don't even bother bending down to the open window to tell him off. I turn and keep walking. I can't get in that car and let him rile me up over the property again.

"Eden, get in. You're being ridiculous. I'll take you home and say nothing more about the house. It's going to storm."

The rain drops grow larger, dousing me in heaven's tears, but I clench my hands into fists and keep walking. The car rolls alongside me at the same pace that I walk. The wind picks up too, bending the tree branches low enough to almost reach me. It's a bit spooky out here in the middle of the night with a storm approaching but I won't admit it to Adrian, who shouts at me from the open window of his car.

"Stop being so stubborn and get in."

I know I should get in. He's not a stalker or even dangerous in the least, and if the cacophony of the wind through the trees is any indication of how bad this storm is going to be, it would be the smart move. But I'm fighting against something bigger than Adrian Wolfe. Something bigger than my obstinate need to remain in control of my family property. I'm fighting myself. I hate him and I like him at the same time. If I get in that car we're going to argue more, and he's going to say something that makes sense, something I don't want to hear. That I really am struggling with all of this and I'm refusing to let anyone help me at all.

"Eden!" he shouts, as a bolt of lightning rends the sky above illuminating the angry tree line that reaches out to frighten me. The resounding boom of thunder shakes the ground I walk on, terrifying me and I yank that car door open and climb in while he's still moving.

Seconds later, as Adrian slams on his breaks, the skys open up and it rains so hard even with his wipers on full blast and driving only a few miles an hour, we can't see out the window.

"Shit," he hisses, turning his defrost on high to combat the moisture. I sit in the seat angry and shivering as the cold air coats my arms in a thick layer of goosebumps.

"I could have walked home."

"In this? I know you're stubborn, but you're not stupid, Eden." He turns on his high beams and uses the back of his hand to wipe at the windshield which has a heavy fog on it.

I'm not sure if I think that's a compliment or an insult but I take it as an insult. It's the only way to make sure I don't fin dmyself feeling vulnerable with him again. Everything he's said is true. I have no money to pay off the tax debt, and even though I can commute to my job in Johnson City and make the remainder of the mortgage payments, the amount of work needing done to the property is way out side my budget. I hate him for that, but I love that he is actually thinking about me needs going forward.

I am a literal walking paradox and my only reaction is anger, because anger is safe. "Just take me home."

"I'm trying. You know you are about the most stubborn person I have ever met."

I scowl at him. "And you're pushy and demanding and rude."

"And you're loud and--"

"Stop it!" I snap as he pulls into the driveway. His car starts the climb toward the house and I've had enough. "Just stop. I told you I don't want to sell my family property. What don't you understand about that. Leave it alone."

"I am only trying to help you, Eden. You have taken the mentality of this town a little too seriously. Pushing me away is a mistake." The car rounds the bend and stops, but the rain only picks up. I stare at the window unable to even see the house despite having left the porch light on.

"I don't need your help." I say it but even as the words leave my lips I know it's not true. I do need his help, just not the way he wants to give it to me.

"You don't even know what you need."

I'm so angry I grip the handle of the door, ready to spring out, but pings of hail hitting the roof and hood of his car stop me in my tracks.

"Stay," he says, grabbing my wrist. "At least 'til that hail is over."

I want to protest and brave the storm to get to my safe spot cuddling Luna, but he tugs on my arm and I huff out a sigh. Instead of jumping out, I turn on him. I don't mean to. I'm not angry with him. I'm angry with myself, for failing so badly. Failing to be the person my parents raised me to be. Failing to communicate my emotions in a healthy way, and failing to cope with grief on my own.

"I'm not selling."

"Fine!" he spits out, but he doesn't let go of my wrist.

"And I don't want your money." My throat constricts.

"Even better," he says, pulling me closer.

"And I'm not falling in love with you." I clench my jaw at that one, because he doesn't know it but I actually am. And I have no clue why.

"And I'm not falling in love with you either." His voice softens as he says that and he pulls me closer still, until I lose my balance and practically fall into his lap. His strong hands grip my cheeks and he kisses me hard.

His lips part mine, searching my mouth with his tongue, and I am helpless to do anything but respond in turn. I want to kiss him. I want to do more than kiss him. In fact, I want to do more than kiss him every time I see him which is half the reason I'm so angry with him. If he'd only see that, maybe he'd back off of this ridiculous notion that he can tear down my family home and build a shopping center.

"Oh god," I breathe, getting to my knees. I lean over the center console and press my hand son his shoulders as I renew the kiss with vigor.

A clap of thunder barely distracts either of us. Adrian pulls the handle to slide his seat all the way back, and I climb on his lap and straddle him. He's rock hard, which either happened very fast or has been brewing this entire argument. I have to admit fighting with him turns me on a little too. It makes me feel strong and powerful, but in a way that allows me to be vulnerable and say thing I normally wouldn't.

"The hail stopped," he growls out even as he unbuttons his fly.

"Shut up and kiss me..." I cover his mouth with mine again and bite his lower lip.

He fumbles with his zipper, and I reach down to help, feeling his breathing growing heavier against my lips. I can feel the heat of his body radiating through the thin barrier of his clothes, and the sensation is intoxicating.

Our kiss grows more frantic, our tongues intertwining passionately as our bodies meld together. I feel his erection straining against me, and the thought of him inside me makes me moan softly.

The rain is still pounding down on the car, but we are oblivious to the storm outside. Adrian's hands roam my body, tracing the line of my waist and exploring the curves of my hips. I moan softly, a mixture of desire and frustration coursing through my veins. Our kiss deepens as he slides his hands up under my dress and hooks his finger around the crotch of my panties.

"These have to go."

"Yes..." I moan, nodding, then kiss him harder as he yanks the soft material and rips the crotch right out of the panties. I gasp in shock, but my surprise soon shifts to the feeling of his cock pushing into me.

Adrian's lips trail down my neck, and I let out a gasp, my eyes fluttering shut. I feel him pushing inside me, and the sensation is overwhelming. My hands grip the back of his head, pulling him closer as he continues to thrust, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. My breath hitches with every thrust, the arousal between us intensifying with each passing second.

The sound of the rain on the car exterior is drowned out by the rhythm of our lovemaking, the only sound being our heavy breathing and the squeak of the leather interior. Adrian pushes his thumb into my clit and I almost come undone.

"Oh god... please..." I moan, pleading for him to do it.

"Mmmm," he growls, and his thumb begins circling my swollen nub. I have no idea why I'm doing this or why I act like I don't want it either. My mind is a whirlwind of contradiction. Hate him or love him, I don't know. At this point he just needs to make me come.

"Do it... please..." I bury my face in the crook of his neck and let him take over, thrusting upward from beneath me in and in no time I feel my body tensing and my orgasm breaks over me, sucking me in. The pleasure drowns me in its tidal wave, and I cry out in a mixture of ecstasy and relief. Adrian's rhythm doesn't slow, but he pulls me closer, my thighs gripping his waist, our bodies pressed together in a perfect symphony of skin and heat.

"Adrian," I whisper, my voice hoarse from the gasps and moans. "I..."

He silences me with a kiss, his lips bruising mine with the force of his passion. And then I feel him release, his hot semen spurting inside me, filling me completely. I gasp, my body quaking with the intensity of it all. It's overwhelming and incredible, and I don't even stop to think until I feel him draining out of me. I sit upright with shock and stare at him.

"What did you do?" My body should be melting into him, draped over his chest in afterglow that bonds us together. Instead it's rigid and verging on panic as his dick grows soft inside of me and our sex puddles on his slacks.

"What did I do? You just jumped on me and went to town. You never even stopped to ask for protection."

If I weren't shocked right now, I'd love the way his hands rest on my thighs. But I'm upset and confused and infuriated and falling for him and my hand has a mind of its own. I reach up and smack him hard, then grab the door handle and yank on it, pushing the door open.

Rain drenches me instantly, and I don't even stop to think what it might do to the electronics inside the door. I need to get away from him before my heart betrays me again. I can't do this. I'm not going to be weak.

"Eden, please. Let's talk..." He reaches for his seatbelt but I slam the door in his face and run through the rain to the house. The hail is done and so is the damage. Adrian Wolfe is too addictive--too dangerous. I can't be that woman now. I have to be independent and strong. How else will I save my family legacy?

Chapter 12

This old building has seen better days. The roof leaks in almost every unit; paint on the exterior is chipped and faded. Inside there are water stains and mold in at least half of the units and even the parking lot needs an upgrade to asphalt due to the massive cracks in the concrete. I'm looking at it as an alternative to the Hartley property, though seeing it firsthand up close and personal, I realize it needs more work than Eden's homestead ever could.

The realtor stands with hands in pockets and a toothy grin. He's been in touch with the owner of this little shopping plaza and knows they will sell for the right price. Probably because it's in such desperate need of repair I'd sink a half million into it to fix it, or I'd have to demolish the whole thing and rebuild.

"How many units total?" I ask him, matching his pose. We stand in the only empty unit in the plaza staring at the black water ring on the wall.

"Eight units, but this one is vacant," the realtor says, gesturing at the dilapidated space around us. I nod, taking a step closer to inspect the water stain on the wall. It's an eyesore, a testament to neglect and abandonment.

"But like I said," the realtor continues, a hint of excitement in his voice, "with some investment and a little TLC, this place could be turned into a gold mine. Think about it, Mr. Wolfe. A revived shopping plaza right here in our town. It could be the heartbeat of the community once again."

I glance out the grimy window, envisioning what this place could become with a little love and attention. The realtor's words echo in my mind, stirring a flicker of excitement within me to continue pursuing my project. A revived shopping plaza, bustling with life and energy, where locals can come together and support each other's businesses would definitely benefit the town. But I don't want revived. I want new, and this place will never be "new" again.

"So the other seven units are rented out to shop owners?" I've been in a few of them, the coffee shop and the bakery.

"Yes, Mr. Wolfe," the realtor confirms with a nod. "The other seven units are all occupied by local businesses. We have a bookstore, a boutique clothing store, a pet groomer, and even a small art gallery."

I listen intently, imagining the community that could flourish within these walls. The town's pride and joy, though, that leaves a lot to the imagination. I look around at the dilapidated state of this unit and skepticism creeps into my thoughts.

"What about the tenants? Are they willing to invest in renovating their shops?" I inquire, my eyes still fixed on the water stain. "And why have the owners let it go?" As I ask my questions I walk toward the front door and push it open, letting him pass by me as we step into the fresh air. I'm grateful for a breath that's not suffocatingly full of musty damp odors.

"Well, as I said they're from out of town. They pay a property manager I believe, but I can find out the details if you'd like." He slicks a hand across his head and glances up at the sun overhead baking us.

"Yeah, get me more details." I'm not excited about the idea of putting seven shop owners out of business during renovations or even a complete rebuild of the property. The Hartley property is looking more and more like the only option if I'm going to settle in Elizabethton.

The realtor's head pops up and he scowls briefly before plastering a fake smile on his face. I turn over my shoulder to see what he could be looking at and see a lanky blonde woman approaching. She's a bit older than me, tight curly hair cut short around her head, and clings to her purse like someone is trying to mug her. Her scowl makes me skeptical this will be a pleasant conversation.

"Mindy," the realtor says with forced pleasantness and exasperation in his tone.

"Now, Hank..." She glances at me and looks me up and down from head to toe, then turns to Mr. Brown. "What do we have going on here?" Mindy's head sways like a bobble head dog, taking in the front of the shopping plaza. It's as if she's the town mayor here to investigate something suspicious, not just a concerned citizen wondering what's happening. I don't know Mindy, but unless she's the owner of this building, she's not entitled to know my business.

"Well, I'm just showing Mr. Wolfe here the plaza." Hank, whose first name I didn't know until Mindy said it, wrings his hands together. He's clearly had some sort of run in with Mindy before and is nervous. Sweat beads on his forehead and it's not just because it's nearly ninety already this morning.

Mindy turns to me and does another once over, and in a very Karen-like fashion says, "Have you spoken to Mark Albers? Because I think he may have something to say about this."

"With all due respect, ma'am, Mark is the fire chief, not the bank." If I had a hat I would tip it to show respect, but Mindy seems to be out for blood.

"Well I got a call from Becky and she tells me you're thinking of buying this place. You can't go runnin' seven businesses out of town to bring in your big box store. We won't have it." Mindy yanks her purse strap up on her shoulder father and the creases in her forehead deepen.

I've had my share of interactions with stubborn locals, but Mindy may be my toughest one yet. If Becky--the café owner--called her in already, it means the shop owners are already on edge and worried. I take it as my que to step away and rethink things. I don't want to cause a scene here over nothing, and it seems the locals aren't interested in fixing up their old town.

"Mr. Brown, send me those details. I'll be in touch." I nod at Mindy. "Good day, ma'am."

Walking away, I picture the shopping plaza completely rebuilt and thriving. In fifteen years no one will even look back and call this moment a travesty, but Mindy is right. Ousting seven business owners will hurt them personally, while working with Eden to get her out of that money pit of a property will only affect her in a negative way, and only emotionally. If she can only see that if she gives up the property she'll be free and it will help the town, she'll understand I'm trying to help her.

I climb into my car and fire it up. Mindy is still railing on the poor realtor and it looks like she has no intention of stopping before sunset. I've met her type before and I pity the poor man, but I'm grateful I excused myself when I did.

Now, if Eden won't come off the property I will just have to wait until the bank does something with it when she can't cough up the final twelve grand in a few days. It doesn't make me happy to know how it will affect her. That part discourages me. I don't want to see her hurting or grieving yet another loss, but her grief over her parents isn't allowing her to see clearly. And after chasing that man off her property, I know it's the right thing.

I just don't know if that guy is going to come back again, and what he'll do if or when he does.

Chapter 13

This old tractor has seen better days. It barely started for me when I climbed on it a few hours ago, but it's still kickin' after mowing the lower pasture. The wobbly rocking of the seat makes my back hurt, but I need the grass knocked off before the rains that are already closing in again. Spring here is a crapshoot when it comes to yardwork and storms pop up randomly at least once a day.

Luna trots around the fence, watching me. If I could hear her over the roar of the old green lawn machine Daddy's had since I was a kid, I would hear her whining; I'm certain. She's acting agitated though, not her normal bit of separation anxiety when she can't be where I am. So I push in the clutch and slow the tractor, then stop and watch her for a moment. She barks at me, then runs to the corner of the fence and starts barking in the direction of the barn.

With my foot firmly planted on the break, I stare off down the hill where the barn sits. Weeds have grown up around it, snaking their way around the gutters and clinging to the corrugated metal roofing. Some birds flap around in them, probably nesting there since I haven't had a chance to tear the long vines down and try to clean the barn off at all. But that isn't what Luna is barking about. From where I sit on the tractor I can only see the very tail end of a truck, but I know it's that jerk who harassed me a few weeks ago when Adrian interrupted.

"Fuck's sake," I mumble and cram the tractor into first gear before shutting it off. I don't want to deal with this again today, especially when I know the banker is going to come around anyway to collect the twelve grand owed in taxes. I've done my best to scrouge up the money but I've only managed to find a few thousand dollars fluid cash.

I slip of the tractor, allowing my ears to adjust now that the loud engine is off. Luna's barking seems distant but grows louder as my hearing slowly returns and I make a mental note to find the ear protection Mama used to badger Daddy into wearing when he mowed. She doesn't let up her yapping at all even as I walk past the fence and pat her head. I love that she's such a good guard dog, but if people knew what a big baby she is no one would be frightened of her, least of all the man I suspect is nosing around the barn.

By the time I approach the barn, I'm fuming mad. I don't know what sort of debt my daddy had or has with this man, but he can't come onto my property trying to stake a claim at anything. I'd get my phone out and call Mark, but I left it on the kitchen counter when I came out to mow. Now I wish I had it with me.

"Excuse me," I call, leaning my head into the barn door but it's dark in there. I can't see much at all. I don't hear any noises either, so I walk past the open door and move closer to the truck. That bastard better not be in the house either. He has some nerve coming out here.

"Hello!" I call again, rounding the far corner of the barn. As I do I see the man standing over the old Ford pickup. Daddy's pride and joy is worth something to the right person, but this man is not it. I had a hell of a time getting it parked up here and I'm not planning to move it any time soon.

"Well, Ms. Hartley, I'd like to say it's nice to see you but you know why I'm here and that I'm not entirely happy to be back." He pats the hood of the truck and moves closer to me, standing between his truck and Daddy's.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure why you're back. I made it clear last time that I'm not paying your debt." I cross my arms over my chest in a bold posture but my insides are shaking nervously. The guy is scary, and I'm alone out here with no way to call for help.

"Well, it's not my debt; it's your daddy's." He smirks at me. "And since you're the one handling things around here now, I believe that makes it yours." His hands slide into his pocket and leans on the side of his truck, only a few yards from where I stand. His all black attire is probably meant to make him seem more threatening, and he doesn't even need it to make me afraid.

Luna's barking only grows louder, even as the winds begin to pick up. I'll never get the upper pasture finished at this rate which means another several days for the grass to dry out before it can be mowed down, at least by Daddy's old decrepit lawn tractor.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I need to finish the yard work before the storm hits." I take a step backward and he takes a step forward. "It's going to be a big one."

"Yes, darlin', the storm is comin', and it's going to be a big one." He takes another step, then another, and I find myself backing up away from him. The distinct pop of a walnut cracking open pricks my ears and I know why Luna is barking louder now. I have more company, just in time.

"I don't remember your name, but if you don't leave, I'm going to call the sheriff." I feel a little braver knowing someone else is here, even if it's just Gloria--or worse, Mr. Eckert. I'd rather deal with begging the man to give me a few more days to pay the taxes than to try and fight this guy over some debt my father may or may not have racked up gambling.

"I think this old pickup will pay some of the debt off... maybe twenty-five grand to the right collector. But that leaves a huge chunk left." The guy moves closer still but this time I hold my ground.

"I am not giving you the truck and I asked you to leave." Now Luna is going insane. Her barks are angry and intense, but I can't look away from this guy for one second.

"You're not listening to me. You owe me two-hundred-fifty grand and I'm taking what I am owed one way or another." He reaches around behind himself and I fear what he might be reaching for, but I hear the booming voice of Adrian Wolfe behind me and I breathe sigh of relief, much to my disdain.

"I believe the lady asked you to leave. Now, I suggest you do that or I'll be making a few calls." I feel his presence now, standing behind me. As much as I don't want to talk to him, it reassures me that nothing bad will happen, at least not to me. Adrian is a scoundrel, but he's a gentlemen.

"What is it with you and her?" The guy narrows his eyes at Adrian and all I can think is how deafening Luna's barks are. The wind howls across the mountainside and makes me shudder. The temp is dropping quickly too, which means the laundry I have hung on the line out back will be soaked and need another day to dry.

"That is none of your business. Now get on out of here," Adrian orders, and the man's eyes go wide. He hurries around the front of his truck and climbs in, and just as the engine roars to life, I feel Adrian stumble forward into me.

He grunts and I sidestep, watching Luna pounce on him. She has her front paws on his shoulders, barking loudly into his ear and the man in the truck backs out and turns around, zipping down the driveway. I cover my mouth and watch Luna stand on Adrian who lays stock-still as if he's afraid. The ground here is muddy thans to the run off from the upper pasture and the way the barn roof drains down to this corner. Adrian lays in an especially soft patch of grass.

"Luna!" I snap, but she continues barking. I know it's her playful bark. She's happy she tackled him and probably wants ihim to turn over and wrestle the way Daddy always did, but Adrian looks scared of her. I grab her collar and haul her off, and he stands up.

The entire from of him is soaked and muddy, and he wipes at the smudges on his face and scowls at me.

"Sorry about that. She likes to play." Luna whimpers and nose whistles a few times and I can't stop the chuckle. The wind knocks a stray branch loose from the tree a few yards away and it drops to the ground. I look up a the angry sky, darkening by the second. I can't send Adrian away when he's soaking wet, but I don't exactly want him in my house.

"Is she always like that?" he asks, just as the sky roars to life with a deep rumble.

"Yeah, protective but playful..." I feel a few drops of rain and don't' feel like getting soaked so against my better judgement, I say, "Let's go in before we get soaked. I mean, before I get soaked." I don't bother to hide the grin. "I might have a change of clothes for you somewhere in Daddy's stuff."

Adrian scowls at Luna who jerks at my arm trying to get at him. She really loves romping with Daddy and he's not around to do it. I doubt Adrian is the sort of guy who would do that though.

"Yeah, alright," he mumbles. He follows me back up toward the house and I see how Luna got out. The gate has been bent so it barely shuts. I move through it and let her go, then turn to try to fix it, but Adrian waves me off. In ten seconds he has the latch bent ack into shape and the raindrops are coming heavier and more frequently. "You'll have to fix that again, but it'll do for now."

I glance at the sky and nod at him, rubbing my arms as the air chills even further. "Thanks..." I glance around and see Luna lapping up some water from her dish. "Come on, Luna!" I start toward the back door and smack my leg, calling her, but she ignores me. "Luna!" I shout, but over the roar of the wind I'm not sure she can even hear me now.

Thunder claps again, and rain lets loose, pounding us both, so I lead Adrian up to the house and open the door. "Go on in, I have to get her." I turn back to call Luna again, but she's barking at the barn again. "Luna! Get over here!"

The wind is so loud, like a freight train barreling down the side of the mountain. I hear cracking and popping, then lightning flashes, striking a tree in the lower pasture.

"Eden! Get in here!" Adrian's voice has a foreboding tone in it, but I can't leave Luna out here. I start down the steps, but instantly feel the wind pushing against me. Then Adrian grabs my wrist. He pulls me back up the steps and into the house, just as a decent-sized branch falls where I was standing, almost crushing the clothes line.

"Oh god, Luna!" I whimper, watching her run back and forth along the end of the fence line. The branch isn't massive, but she acts afraid to go near it. "Adrian, my dog."

"Eden, look," he points out the door at the angry, swirling clouds. The sky is so dark it's beginning to look like nighttime. And I almost pull away from him and dart out into the yard to get Luna when something large crashes into the side of the house. "Where's the basement?"

"No, Luna!"

"Eden, now!" Adrian has his thick bicep around my waist, not letting me move, and I sob and reach for the back door. "Which door!"

"Behind you," I sob, and hear the basement door opening.

The storm is so violent I can't even hear myself crying, even as Adrian slings me over his shoulder and steps through the basement door, slamming it shut with the force of the wind, then jogging downward into the darkness.

"Luna..." I cry, not knowing if I will ever see her again.

Chapter 14

The thunder overhead lessens as time goes on and the strongest wind subsided a short time ago, but Eden remains cowered in the corner on an empty cardboard box that's been flattened on the ground. There are no windows down here, and the lights have flickered several times, but we are safe at least. I stand at the bottom of the stairs looking up at the door.

"Are you sure you don't have your phone?" I look over at the dim corner and she rolls her eyes at me.

"Why are you asking me that again? I told you, it was on the kitchen counter when I was mowing."

I realize she's upset with me but I'm not sure why she's blaming me for this. It's not like I made a tornado appear out of nowhere so we'd have to come down here together. I reach into my pocket and pull my phone out, but it still won't turn on. Thanks to the way the rain let loose while I was trying to get Eden in the house, it's probably destroyed. Water got in the charging port and likely fried the entire thing. I scowl and start up the steps.

If the storm is moving past, there is no reason for me to be down here in the musty basement. I'm about halfway up when I hear whimpering and know Eden's dog is okay. She must hear it too, because for the first time in forty-five minutes she gets up. She bounds up the steps meeting me at the top in pushing match as she tries to get to the door first.

"Move," she snaps, reaching for the doorknob but despite her efforts to open it, it remains shut. "What did you do?"

"I did nothing!" I chuckle at the absurdity of her accusation. "Who would want to be trapped in a basement with you?"

"Get out of my way," she says, pushing in front of me. She tries the knob again to no avail. Then she throws her shoulder into the door as she holds the knob to the open position, but it still doesn't budge.

The dog starts barking and Eden glowers at me. "Can you open it?"

"It's probably just the moisture in the air. Here, step back." I'm entirely more patient than I should be given her attitude, but there is no sense in keeping frustrations high. She steps down a few stairs and I ascend, twisting the knob. I hear it click open, but even when I put all my weight into it, it doesn't budge.

"Come on, Adrian. Luna needs me."

The dog is right there on the other side of the door, scratching and whimpering, but I can't get the thing to open. I bang on it and jiggle the handle, making Luna's whimpering and whining worse, but it still won't open.

"Do you have any tools?" I look down at her and her scowl deepens. She looks hesitant to go back down the steps, but she retreats, and when she returns she has a flathead screw driver in hand. Her hair is damp still, clinging to her face near her temples, and her shirt is moist too. It hugs her body in the most attractive places, but she doesn't catch me looking at her.

"Here." Eden thrusts the screwdriver out toward me and I take it.

Never in a million years did I think I would be in her basement trying to spring us both, but here we are stuck together until one of us figures this out. And since she seems to have lost her head a little after the tornado, I figure it's going to be me who gets us out of here.

I jam the screw driver into the door and pry, and she gasps. "No! My god, you're going to damage it."

My shoulders tense but I don't let her see my eye roll. I can't argue with her or we'll be at each other's throats with nowhere to get peace and quiet. So I put the screwdriver into the screw and loosen it. In just a few minutes I have the inside knob off. I lay it on the top step and use the shaft of the screwdriver to push until the exterior knob falls free too. Luna's nose is instantly at the hole sniffing.

"Well, the knob is off. If you get your dog to move I might be able to see out this hole." I stick my finger through the hole and push Luna's nose away but I'm met with a lapping tongue curling around my finger.

"Luna, go find Papa. Go on! Get Papa." Eden's playful tone is met with a few barks and the dog backs away from the hole. I lower my face and look through with one eye, only to see the reason why the door won't open and Eden won't like it.

A massive limb, probably at least ten inches in diameter, pushes against the basement door, pinning it shut. The screen door is shredded, the limb right through its center, and the storm door hangs from one hinge. From this vantage point I can't even tell if the rest of the house is standing. All I know is we are trapped down here until someone comes to get us, unless she has an ax and will allow me to break through this door.

"Well, you're not going to want to hear this." I turn and grimace at her.

"What?" She mounts the stairs two at a time, again pushing past me. I don't even have time to react. I'm pinned against the wall by her body as she stoops to look through the hole. She moans and whines as she braces herself on the door and when she stands back up, we are only a foot apart. "My god... Can you get your phone working?"

The way her forehead creases shows me she's not going to calm down any time soon. There is nothing I can do to make my phone work any faster. "I'm sorry. I think it has to dry out first." I pull it out of my pocket and open the battery compartment. Water drains out of it, and she growls in frustration then stomps back down the stairs.

"Look," I say, following her, "if you have an ax I can bust the door down."

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you? Just make my repairs more substantial. God only knows what I'm dealing with out there. That was a twister."

My feet hit the concrete at the bottom of the stairs and I suddenly feel very defensive. "You don't have to be rude. I could have saved your life. What if that branch would have fallen while you were standing there trying to get your dog?"

She glares at me and crosses her arms over her chest. "What if we'd have gotten her in here and just sat down at the coffee table for a cup of tea?"

"You're ridiculous. We're safe because I acted quickly."

"We're trapped because you hauled me down here." Her chest heaves and she looks away.

I sigh. "So no ax. That's okay. We just have to wait until my phone dries out. It will take over night at least. Do you have any sleeping bags down here? Food? Is there at least a toilet?" I scan the dark area. A single lightbulb hangs from a chain in the center of the room, though it looks to be dying.

There are shelves along the wall full of canned goods, and a door in the corner looks to be either a bathroom or a closet. My hope is there is a toilet in there, because the last thing either of us wants is to have to relieve our bowels in front of the other. I move that direction, but the power flickers off and I'm tossed into darkness. Eden shrieks and I feel her arms wrap around me.

I don't mind this one bit. I just hope she isn't still mad at me in the morning when my phone still isn't working. I've never seen a phone take so much water from rain.

Chapter 15

I've sat here in the basement on Daddy's old work bench listening to Luna pace the kitchen and whine at the door for an hour now at least. Adrian spread a few of the boxes I used for packing on the floor along the wall and leans against it dozing but I'm upset and a little worried. We've never had a tornado here in Elizabethton and I can't even go out and see what's going on because of the branch holding the door shut. Luna must be scared sick.

The power has been flickering on and off since the storm hit, but for now it's on. I slide off the bench and decide to take stock of what we have. Mama's stash of canned green beans, peaches, and tomatoes may not be the most appetizing thing we could eat but we won't starve. And as long as the power stays on to run the well pump, we'll have running water in the powder room down here. It isn't the cleanest but it will keep us hydrated.

Adrian seems to not even care. I glance at the pieces of his phone he laid out on the table along the wall and scowl at how very little he even tried to fix it. If I had my phone, we would have called Mark by now and they'd have sent a couple of guys out with chainsaws. As it is, if the phone works when first light comes, they'll still have to spend hours chopping that branch to get us out--that is, if the house is still standing.

I pace, arms crossed over my stomach. Daddy would know just what to do if he were here. He'd have made this a game or something to keep our minds off of it. Mama would have had candles burning and she'd be singing old church hymns to keep me calm. I miss them both so terribly much it makes tears come to my eyes when I think of them. I sniffle and Adrian stirs.

Turning y back so he can't see me, I stare at the shelves of canned goods. I remember helping her carry them down here and organize them. They probably should have been thrown out a long time ago, but in a pinch they'll do as long as they don't have a foul smell. Most of them still have their color and when I touch a few, dust comes off on my finger but the seals are intact.

"Are you okay?" Adrian asks. He's been silent for so long it's nice to hear his voice, but I'm still upset. I know I can't be upset with him. He's right. He saved my life. I'd have been out there in that storm calling that damn dog and that branch surely would have landed on me, or scared me to death either way.

"I'm fine," I tell him, but I'm not fine. Being in this house is hard enough. Seeing memories of memories is harder than I ever thought it would be. I haven't really been down here other than to stop mid-way down the stairs and toss the empty boxes from my partial move back to the place.

"You don't sound fine." I hear rustling but I don't dare look at what he's doing. I swipe at my eyes and continue my assessment of the supplies down here. Daddy's large, metal sledgehammer rests in the corner against the cinderblock wall. He used it the last time I was home to visit when a ground hog got in the garbage out back and he wanted to scare it away. The memory makes me smile because he was so afraid Luna would get bit he raced down here to get his hammer. He could barely heft it, and it should have been my warning that something wasn't right with his heart.

"Do you want the boxes?" Adrian is behind me now, close enough I can smell the mustiness of his damp hair mixed with what is left of his cologne.

I look down and over my shoulder and shrug. "Nah, it's okay." I'm not sure I'm in the mood for sleeping anyway. I know it has to be getting on nighttime now, maybe time to actually sleep. When I looked out the doorknob hole at Luna it was already getting dark. But I'm afraid I'll just have bad dreams and cry myself awake in front of him. It's happened every night since I was home.

"I don't mind. I can just sit on the steps. I know this is hard." His hand touches my arm and I don't shy away, but I do get frustrated.

"Do you?" I sigh. "This--" I gesture at the canned goods, daddy's workbench, and the other walls with shelves of things they stored down here "--it's all my memories. All things my parents brought down here, things we used, things we treasured." I can't hide the fact that I'm crying anymore. "It's hard to look at and now I'm trapped down here staring at it."

Adrian's hand leaves my arm and I walk over to the far wall, searching for anything to distract me. There's an old tent, but it has busted poles. Daddy meant to fix it but I think he forgot once I moved out. Beside that is a camp lantern, but when I shake the tank I don't hear any fuel in it. I set it back down and see the box of old family pictures. That's something I have no desire to open in front of him. It would only reveal what a mess I am inside.

"We should try to rest."

Adrian's soft voice is almost inaudible over the sound of the howling wind which seems to have picked back up again. Rain has been falling this whole time, probably flooding the lower pasture where the creek snakes through the property. I know the east side of the house gets a good four inches of water standing from the way the upper pasture drains downhill too. If Mama and Daddy hadn't had that contractor seal up the basement on that side, we'd be standing in water down here.

"I'm not tired." I don't mean for my tone to be short or harsh; it just is. I don't' try to hide it though. He has to be just as frustrated at the prospect of being trapped down here as I am.

"I can take that hammer and have us out of here--"

I glare at him and it cuts him off. "We'll wait. Your phone will work again and we'll call Mark."

He stands with hands raised in surrender and joins me in perusing the shelves. It's comforting to have him here even though he isn't exactly the person I'd choose for this situation. Gloria would be much better company. But at least I'm not alone and I'm safe.

"Thank you for getting me down here," I say, grumbling. I hate admitting to him that he did something right because he's done so many things wrong. I fully expect him to gloat and rub it in my face but he doesn't.

"I'm glad you're safe, Eden." He doesn't even look at me. It's as if he can tell him going through something tough. I respect that.

My eyes spot Daddy's old camp cot. It's folded and stuffed on the top shelf all the way in the dark corner where it's almost indistinguishable from the green army duffel bag I used when I had sleep overs with Gloria as a teen.

"Look there," I point at it and Adrian's eyes rise up to where I'm indicating. "Daddy's old cot. That will be good."

"Oh yeah! Way better for my back." He says it in a playful tone and I scowl at him as he walks over and reaches up to pull it down. It takes a moment of tugging, and the duffel bag along with a few other small things come toppling down on him as he finally jars it loose, but he manages to lower it to the ground. "This thing has seen better days." He dusts it off and starts to unfold it.

"No, over here," I tell him, walking toward the light. I don't want to sleep along the wall. Too many spiders or creepy bugs to worry about jumping on me. Besides, it will feel too much like I'm alone and if I sleep closer to where Adrian's boxes are laid out, at least I'll hear him sleeping. Luna usually climbs on the foot of my bed to keep me company. I don't know if I can be completely alone right now.

"Sure..." He follows me, and unfolds the cot. It's dirty, covered in years of dust and dirt, but when I put weight on it, it holds me without tearing. "Here," he says, taking his jacket off.

"No, that's okay." I wave him off and lie down, curling into a ball. I'm not tired right now, but my bones ache from fatigue. I think about that man who was here just before the storm hit and wonder if he made it home safe. That's what's wrong with me. I have this strange sickness that cares about people--even people who don't deserve my compassion.

"Suit yourself..." Adrian moves toward the light and I chuckle. "What?"

"You said, 'suit yourself' after you tried to give me your suit jacket and I rejected you."

He chuckles with me and rolls his eyes, then the light goes out. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," I tell him, already yawning. I guess I'm more tired than I thought. It's pitch black, but I hear him moving still, so I'll be okay.

Moment later, I feel the warmth of his jacket wrap around my torso, and the scent of his cologne fills my nostrils. I guess I didn't realize how chilly I was either.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"Sleep now."

The boxes shuffle and then he sighs, and seconds later he's snoring again. Maybe he's not as horrible of a person as I thought he was, but I'm still not selling this place. Will he even want it if the entire property is one big tangle of downed trees and construction debris?

Luna whines again, and it's the last thing I hear before I doze off too.

Chapter 16

The suctiony pop of a jar being opened awakens me, and my neck screams at me. My head hangs over my chest, my body slumped over and leaned against the wall. I can't believe I slept like this all night long because my back and shoulders are so tense, I'll need a week of massages to get my spine in alignment again.

I slowly manage to get my neck to straighten out a bit, my head rising, and when I open my eyes I see Eden seated on the cot cross-legged with a jar of pears in her hand. In her other hand is a half of a pear, complete with juice dripping down her arm as she chews.

"Morning." She raises the jar at me in a sort of toast and smiles. I don't even recall hearing her move around or turn the light on this morning. She must have been quiet to be respectful, because I'm a very light sleeper. "Want some breakfast? Mama's pears are really good."

I rub my eyes and yawn, then try to stretch my arms over my head, but my muscles are pretty stiff. I only get them raised halfway before they protest and I wince. Hopefully that is the only time I ever have to sleep like that.

"No thanks, I'm more of a black coffee sort of guy." I slide my tongue across my upper teeth and feel how fuzzy they feel. What I wouldn't do for a tooth brush and a stiff cup of coffee right now.

"Alright, but if you want some, I don't have to eat the whole jar. They really are incredible." Eden seems happier this morning, as if she's adjusted to the idea of being trapped down here somewhat. Her hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles and kinked strangely from the way she slept on it. It had to have dried that way and since there is no mirror she has no reservations about her looks.

It's sort of sweet seeing her that way, like she's just woken up, with puffy eyes and cheeks streaked with mascara from crying. I find myself staring a little too long and she notices. Her cheeks tinge with crimson and I look down at my rumpled slacks and shirt. I must be a mess too. I wonder if my hair is just as disheveled and run a hand across it to tame any mischievous locks.

"You look fine." She takes another pear out of the jar and bites into it. The juice dribbles down her chin and drips onto the jeans she wears and she grins at me. "Sure you don't want one?" she asks with her mouth full and I wave her off. I'm sure it's not every day you get to eat home-canned pears but I don't think my stomach will handle the sugary sweetness this early--though I can't even tell how early it is. I feel rested enough though.

"Mama and I used to can these together. I stopped doing it as much when I was a teenager. I thought I was too cool for it or something. Gloria told me she never did that sort of thing with her mother, but then she doesn't' know how to do it now either and I do. Gosh I wish Mama was here so I could tell her how delicious these things are and how thankful I am that she taught me how to preserve food."

Not even thinking, I ask, "What happened to her?"

Eden shoves the rest of the pear in her mouth and sets the jar on the ground, wiping her hands across her jeans. Her face falls as she chews the fruit. I can tell it was a bad question to ask her, but there is no taking it back now. I feel bad for bringing up a sad subject again.

"She uh... Her car slid off the mountain pass in some snow and ice. They said it was hypothermia that actually killed her." Eden's eyes well up with tears which she blinks back as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She stands and takes the jar with her, setting it on the work bench, then goes straight to the bathroom and shuts the door.

I listen to her crying for a second before the toilet flushes and the water runs, but I don't say word when she comes back. My parents are both still living, though I don't talk to them all too often. I can't imagine burying both of them at so young an age.

My eyes roam the basement and land on the sledgehammer in the corner of the room. I know if I just swing that thing a few times at that door, it will splinter and we'll walk out of here, but Eden insists I cannot do that. I just don't understand her reasoning. She was so insistent that the dog come in during the storm she'd risk her life, but she won't break a single door down in order to get herself out of here.

After several long minutes of staring at the cobweb-covered cinderblock walls, I decide I have to do something. My head thrums with a coffee headache, but it isn't that that motivates me. It's the idea that we're down here where no one knows to look right after a major storm. Sure, canned goods are okay, but they're probably expired and who knows if she'll get botulism from eating the stuff. And what if no one comes? We could spend weeks down here before someone from the bank decides to tear the place down or something.

"I know you're really not keen on the idea, but if I take that sledgehammer and bust that door down, we could be eating fried eggs and drinking coffee in a half hour. My treat. I'll even cook."

Eden, standing near the shelf full of goods, glares at me. "You're not busting that door down, Adrian. If your phone doesn't' work, Mark will come for us. I know him. He won't rest until he makes sure every resident is accounted for--dead or alive."

Her determination to resist me irritates the hell out of me. I've never seen someone so obstinate or hard headed in my life, and while it's a complete turn on--a challenge to rise to--I just want a cup of coffee and to be done with this situation.

"We could just save him the trouble. That's all I'm saying." I push my aching body off the wall and stand, dusting myself off. "Aren't you sick of being down here? We don't even know what the town looks like."

"While I care very much about what the town looks like, that door is irreplaceable. You're not just going to smash it." She stands between me and the sledgehammer with arms crossed over her body and I see it as a test. She's being ridiculous again. I try to sidestep her but she moves with me, a waltz of sorts we fall into until I grip her around the waist and move her to the side.

"It's just a door, Eden. I'll pay to have it replaced." I grip the hammer in my hand and heft it up to my shoulder and she scurries to the bottom step and stands in my way, putting both hands on my chest. Her weak push against my chest humors me and I chuckle.

"You aren't smashing that door, Adrian."

"Out of my way and I'll have you eating like a queen in no time."

"No!" She pushes me hard, tears now streaming down her cheeks. "Do not do it." Her bottom lip quivers and I take a step back. It's so infuriating but I need to know why she's crying.

"Why the hell not!" I let the sledge drop to the ground and lean on the handle as I stare at her.

"Daddy handmade that out in the barn. I watched him use his tools to cut it the right size, sand it down, and even stain it." She sniffles and swipes at her eyes. "You aren't touching it. It's irreplaceable."

My heart squeezes yet again. She's so damn sentimental it hurts my brain, but I love it at the same time. Why am I finding myself loving it! It's a door. It's not even a family photo or a gift he gave her. He probably made that thing twenty years ago based on the wear and tear, and she can't come off it long enough to save herself.

"Why is that door more important than your life?"

"Why is my property not important to you?" She takes the hammer out of my hand and stalks back over to the corner of the room, leaving it where it was. "You have no clue. You came into this town with an agenda you just have to follow. You'll stomp all over people and their memories and their property and not even care. Well not this one, Adrian."

"I haven't stomped on anyone." My thoughts go to the plaza and the shop owners. I could stomp on them. I choose not to. I don't want to do that. I want to help her out. She's irrational right now. We could be out of this basement in five minutes, and her emotions are making the decision to stay here.

"My father practically built this place with his bare hands. We've hosted fall festivals and church picnics. The town used to come to our property to celebrate and mourn. You can't just demolish a part of this town's history and think you're helping anyone out." Eden's nostrils flare and her lower lip quivers. I watch her lose the fight to hold back tears and she swipes angrily at them.

I want to snap at her and put her in her place, but I stop myself. I can see how emotionally invested she is in this old rundown home even if it means nothing to me. I just can't stand here and look her in the eye with the anger in my chest after she pushed my buttons like that. My feet move before my brain gives them consent and I stalk past her to the bathroom and shut the door.

Irrational anger surges through me and I can't do anything to stop it. The funny thing is I'm not even sure why I'm angry. I completely understand where she's coming from. I don't like the place I grew up, and my parents and I don't always see eye to eye, but they have lived in the same home for more than forty years and if someone came in and tried to demolish it to build a shopping plaza, I'd be fighting to save the place too. It may be on the verge of being condemned, but it's part of her and by suggesting it could be anything other than her home, I've broken her heart.

I feel like a complete jerk. We've been arguing for hours. My heart thuds against my ribcage with unspent frustration. I take a deep breath to calm myself and wish I could do something different, but I know the shopping plaza is out, and there is no other location even close to being suitable. The closest place would be in nearby Roan Mountain but there wouldn't be enough business to keep a place there alive. I may have to just give up on Elizabethton and move to a different small town. I just don't want to give up on Eden.

Something has transpired between us that I never thought would ever happen for me again. Wren destroyed my heart, and Eden--with her sassy independent spirit and drive to be self-sufficient--has begun healing it. I am falling for this woman despite every wall I put up, and for some stupid reason, I want to help her, even if it means hurting myself--again.

I hear a crash on the other side of the door and I stand abruptly and push the door open as the sound of glass shattering in the basement startles me and Eden yelps. What the heck just happened?

Chapter 17

Holding my hand up, I pinch my finger to stimy the flow of blood, but it's useless. The cut is deep. I tried opening a jar of tomatoes and it slipped from my hands, crashing to the basement floor. Glass shards lie all around my bare feet along with tomato juice and hunks of stewed tomatoes. I can't even take a step or I'll end up with glass in my feet. I never put my shoes on when I woke up after kicking them off in the middle of the night.

"What happened?" Adrian rushes out of the bathroom. We've been at each other's throats all day. I woke up inadvertently this morning and after what I hoped would have been a casual discussion, we just started bickering. But he's not angry now; at least he doesn't show it if he is.

"Uh..." I'm embarrassed but also in pain. I blink out a few tears and show him my finger. Blood drips from it, running down over my other hand and falling to the floor.

He doesn't think twice. He walks right over and picks me up, cradling me and carrying me to the cot where he sets me down. His arms are strong, but his hands are gentle, and I'm shocked by how easily he lifts me. He acts as if my one-hundred-twenty-pound frame is a sack of dog food.

"Thank you," I mutter, because what else am I going to say to him? We just screamed at each other and I feel like all I do is cry every time I get angry. I'm a grown woman, but even a grown woman needs to feel cared for at times. Adrian's bravado--if it could be called that--makes my heart melt.

He walks to the bathroom and gets the broom dustpan, and when he returns he picks up all the shards of glass. Then he sweeps all the bits of tomatoes and any remaining glass up. It takes him less than a minute, and the floor is mostly clean. I watch him dump the mess in the trash can in the bathroom then return to push what remains of the juice to the drain in the center of the basement floor. When he's finished, he sits by me.

"Let me have a look at that cut."

"What why?" I hesitate. He's so close to me I can feel the heat radiating off his body in this cool damp basement. It's sweet of him to care, but I hardly think I need his help with a bleeding finger.

"Just show me." I glare at him but he insists. "Look, I was a boy scout. I have first-aid training. I want to make sure there is no glass in the cut."

Adrian takes my hand and forces me to relinquish my grip. His fingers are tender as he inspects the wound carefully. There's so much blood it's hard to see where the cut begins and ends. I wince in pain as he touches the spot and jerk my hand away.

"Do you have a first-aid kit down here?" He stands and I shrug.

"You've seen as much as I have. I don't think we even have clean rags." Putting pressure back on the bleed, I curl into myself. It hurts pretty badly and I'm not sure if we can even get the bleeding stopped. I bring my finger to my mouth and he hisses at me.

"Stop, you'll add more germs." He scowls, but it's not anger on his face. He's actually concerned about me.

Adrian starts to unbutton his shirt, his fingers working quickly to undo it. "What are you doing?" I ask, watching him. My tongue feels like it's swelling up in my mouth at the idea of seeing him without a shirt, but he's wearing a t-shirt under it.

"I'm going to make a clean bandage. Well, as clean as a two-day-old t-shirt can be." He pulls the button-down off and lays it on the cot, then with one hand reaches over his head and pulls the t-shirt off.

His body is chiseled, bronzed from the sun and rippling with muscles. It makes my breath catch as I trace the line of his abs to the hint of hair peeking out of his belt with my eyes. All I can think about is the stupid riddle Gloria used to say in high school. "Follow the trail and find a treasure." My cheeks burn and I look away before he sees my reaction. What the hell am I thinking?

"I'll be right back," he says, and I hear material tearing. His feet move out of my field of vision, so I cautiously look up and watch him disappear into the bathroom where he turns the water on. His back is just as corded as his chest and abs, strong muscles defined by months or years of physical exertion.

I felt those muscles when we had sex in his motel room, but the light was too dim to really see them. And god do I wish right now that I hadn't seen them. That he wasn't shirtless and so incredibly hot that my groin ached. He isn't interested in anything but hot sex--though it was really incredible hot sex. Adrian is here in town to do business, and I'm not on his list of things he wants. At least, I don't think I am. The only thing he's interested in is my property. He's just being nice right now.

"Here..." He rushes back to my side, half naked and entirely absorbed in cleaning my wound. He drops scraps of t-shirt material on the cot next to me and takes my hand again, washing the blood away. It gushes out just as fast as he cleans it. So he takes my other hand. "Pinch it here."

His hands work with an expertise I am amazed by. With the blood flow slowed, he cleans the wound, uses a scrap of material to wrap around it, then ties it off so it doesn't come loose. My finger throbs under the makeshift bandage and even thought it still hurts, I feel relieved that the bleeding has stopped. I look up at him as he uses another piece of his shirt to wipe his hand clean.

"Thank you," I mutter, so softly I swear he doesn't hear me. But he stops what he's doing and looks into my eyes.

"You're welcome, Eden." There is no pretention or haughtiness in his tone. No frustration or irritation in his eyes. It's like he is a different person than the man I was arguing with all day long.

My heart swells as he holds my gaze. His hands still and I watch how his eyes move about, darting around my face as if he's trying to memorize me. I don't have to do that. I've already memorized every line, every slight wrinkle, the single grey hair on his temple. I find myself mesmerized by his rugged beauty this close up and I can't look away.

He's irritating and infuriating and gorgeously perfect. I hate how he's assertive and a little bossy, and I want to tell him to go to hell. But his hands are so gentle, and his heart so compassionate. I feel myself being sucked in, drawn into his gravity like a boat moving toward the light on the shore in the dead of night. A stranger adrift on the stormy sea looking for home, and in spite of my attempt to put distance between me and this feeling, I'm here again, feeling like he's my home.

My tongue traces my bottom lip, and I watch him lean closer. His eyes flutter shut, lips parting. His hand rises as if to cup my cheek, and I lean in too. Except, my eyes stay wide open. Watching as his chest expands, taking a breath. He's going to kiss me, and I want him to, so desperately, but my brain protests. It screams at my heart not to do this, not to let him bring down my defenses like this again.

I push my feet into the cement floor and bolt upright, almost knocking my head on the underside of the steps, and I gasp and scurry away, rushing up the steps where Luna is whining and scratching. It's as if she senses the almost-kiss moment too, and she is trying to warn me not to let my heart get carried away. I don't even say anything to him, but he has to hear my whimper as I do it.

Plopping on the top step, I lean against the door. My pulse is racing and I feel like an idiot for just running off like that. I like him but I hate him, but I feel like I'm falling for him. I cover my face with my hands and mumble to Luna, "I'm here, girl. It's going to be okay." The words are meant for her, but I feel like I'm talking to myself too.

Will it be okay? Because I don't even want to tell Adrian how I feel about him now. I have every reason to mistrust him and dislike him, but for weeks now my head has been spinning. He's gorgeous, and smart, and sometimes funny. He's successful too, and now I find out how compassionate he is and all I want is for him to be Mr. Right, and not Mr. Real Estate Tycoon.

I sigh and shut my eyes. I can hear him moving around down there, probably miffed that he won't get laid today, and I'm sitting here feeling like a heel for running away. Why can't I make up my mind about what I want? Is this old house worth fighting with the only man I've actually felt a spark with my entire life? Would Mama think I'm throwing away Prince Charming for Cinderella's ash pile? Or would they be proud of me for sticking up for this property and the history behind it?

Adrian has shown up here to be helpful to me. He brought my groceries when I left them behind. He brought me flowers to apologize. He tried to take me to dinner. He drove me home in the rain, asked me to dance with him, sent that jerk of a loan shark running more than once, and all I've been able to do is think about this house and push him away. I've been ignoring every good quality he has simply because of my grief. Maybe I'm the jerk. Maybe he's really trying to help me and I'm the one being harsh.

Tears force themselves to the surface yet again as I fold myself in half, crossing my arms over my knees and resting my head on them. I may have had Adrian all wrong, and Gloria is probably right. Newcomers don't stick around this dumpy town unless they have a good reason. He could have left weeks ago when I told him I'm not about to sell, but he stuck around, and even though he's brought up the topic every time he's seen me, he's also done more for me than anyone else my whole life.

Did he stay for me? Or for my property? And what would he say if I sold to him? Would he stay? Is it possible that there really is something between us?

Chapter 18

It's cold down here. I can see Eden shivering even with my jacket. For June the temps must be almost record lows, a product of the cold front that swept in making such strong storms all week. My phone still hasn't recovered and no one came by to check on us. Or if they did Luna didn't bark at them. Who knows if anyone can even get up Eden's driveway as steep as it is with all the trees around it. We could be down here for weeks if she refuses to let me bust the door down.

I shift uncomfortably, leaning against the wall. She has my jacket draped over her shoulders, and I have just my button-down shirt now after shredding my t-shirt to bandage her finger. The look in her eye told me she wanted to kiss me, but I had to have read the entire situation wrong. It felt like she reached into my chest and caressed my heart right before ripping it out and running away. I sat here staring where she'd been sitting for ten solid minutes before putting my shirt on and locking myself in the bathroom.

She stayed on the stairs and I stayed seated on the toilet lid for the rest of the day, until I heard the stairs creak and knew she was coming back down. When I asked her if she was okay, her answer was, "It's dark. I'm laying down." She shut the light off and now she's shivering and I feel like an asshole.

I've been so entirely focused on my empire I never took into account her heart, and now that I see it so clearly, all I want to do is back up and change everything. If I find a different small town to do my business, I'll have to leave Elizabethton and that means leaving her too. But I don't want to leave here. It's been less than two months but I like it here. This place feels like a place I could really start over, and Eden feels like the type of woman I could start over with.

I just think I've ruined that.

Her form shakes, silhouetted by the very dim light coming in from above. I didn't notice it last night but it allows me to barely see her shape in the darkness, and I'm able to stare at her without her noticing.

She's been through a lot lately, and I've only made it worse. The town has even tried to clue me in--Mark's warning, Gypsy's gossip, Eckert's refusal to give me information--and I've been oblivious, to distracted by my selfishness. This property isn't just a home, it's a shrine, to everything this town was, and everything it can be, and I almost ruined that. I almost hurt her that badly, and that compels me to feel something for her. Something I don't want to admit I feel.

I stand and walk over to the cot, and I hear her shift.

"What?" she asks, and I can hear the fatigue in her voice.

"You're cold..."

"So?"

"Let me help you." I bend, feeling for her. My hand lands on her hip and she swats it away.

"What are you doing?" she hisses, and she sits up, almost smacking her head into mine. I like that she's feisty and I probably should have explained.

"Let me hold you." I put a knee on the cot next to her leg and she squirms. I can feel her moving away from me.

"What? Why?"

"You've heard that old proverb, 'if two people lie together they will be warm, but how can one person be warm alone?'" I don't even give her a chance to answer. I navigate in the darkness with my hands, turning her and lowering myself onto the narrow cot until our bodies are snuggly pressed together. She feels good in my arms.

"I'm not even cold, you know."

"I know," I tell her, knowing she's just trying to do her thing. She wants to prove she doesn't need me. I have no intention of proving her wrong.

"We're not going to sleep well cramped up like this."

"I know," I say again, feeling her arm rise. She covers me with the jacket too and then hugs my arm to her chest.

"And you're going to wake up with a crick in your neck."

"I'll be alright." I can feel her heartbeat against my hand and wriggle a little, giving her more space to move, and she snuggles back into my chest. I'm surprised she isn't protesting me more verbally, or getting up and running away.

"I don't need you to do this." She huffs out a sigh, but again, she doesn't push me away.

"I know you don't."

"And this doesn't mean I'm selling my house."

"Goodnight, Eden," I whisper, and silence reigns in the basement. I'm warm. She's not shivering anymore. My heart has synced with the beating of hers, and her hot breath dusting across my knuckles lulls me into a trance. I pretend this is my life, and she is mine, and I fall asleep to this every single night. Because if we get out of here without killing each other over stupid arguments, I'm going to tell her what I really think of her.

Everything else will fall into place, even if I have to take a job at the Tractor Supply Company to make a living so I don't waste my billions buying her everything she wants and end up bankrupt.

Chapter 19

The repetitive ting of screws hitting the old coffee can is driving me nuts. Adrian has been at it for hours now. I woke up draped in his arms while he snored in my ears and didn't even move. I thought he was going to try to get me to sleep with him when he climbed onto the cot with me, but all he really wanted was to keep me warm. I've never experienced anything like it--a man who is genuinely concerned with my wellbeing with no expectation of anything in return.

So I watch him, tossing the screws one at a time. Some of them miss and skitter across the basement floor. Some of them land in the tin can with a ping. All of them make the rhythmic sound I wish he'd stop, but there is no other way to be entertained down here.

He hasn't even asked me to bust the door down again since I shouted at him and told him how much this place means to me and this town. I wonder if he's dropped the entire idea now, or if he just doesn't want to argue about it anymore. I don't want to argue about it, mostly because I've decided when I leave this basement, I'm going to the bank to find out what the total number is that I'd need to sell. He's right. I'm too emotional over this place. I need to just grow up and face the fact that my parents aren't coming back. Johnson City is my home now.

Adrian's hair is messed up. His shirt is only half buttoned, and his face is covered in thick hairs that are starting to look bushy. There's a piece of fuzz on his jawline I want to pick off, and I find it cute that he doesn't' even notice it. He's a billionaire, drives a fancy car, and he's letting me see him in a less than put together state. Men like him don't usually do that.

"Hey," I mumble, readjusting my position on the cot so I'm more comfortable.

He glances up at me for a second then goes back to his screw tossing. He found the old coffee can of daddy's nuts and bolts on a shelf and I didn't protest him fidgeting with them. They've become his obsession now. I'm glad he's happy. At least he's not pestering me.

"What?"

"Why are you single?" The question has been on my mind a while now, really since I first met him. I've noticed the indentation on his ring finger and the slight tan line there. It's as if he's been in a relationship and only recently decided it was completely over. His finger hasn't decided that though. Which means it can't have been that long ago that he split up with whoever it was.

Adrian scowls and throws his screws harder. Two of them, then a third, and none of them are hitting the can this time. His frustration sends them soaring over the top and hitting the wall behind the can. He doesn't answer right away. His anger creases his forehead for a while first.

"Because..."

"Tell me why. I mean, I told you why I don't want to sell this place. About my mom and everything." I don't expect vivid details, but we're stuck down here. We may as well get to know each other. Call it morbid curiosity, but I want to know. I may never have a chance to find out if we're perfect for each other or if it's just sizzling chemistry, but that doesn't mean I don't want to at least try to find out. That means taking an interest in him and finding out what makes him tick.

For two nights he's been nothing bu a gentleman, albeit a grumpy, hard-headed one at that. But I'm seeing his softer side, the more vulnerable things he doesn't show everyone. And I like them.

"I'm divorced." His body language screams at me. The vein in his temple bulges; his jaw clenches, and he throws the screws harder.

"What? She wouldn't sell her house either?" I try to make a joke, to lighten the mood, but it only seems to make him angrier. He doesn't' respond and I feel bad, so I sit up and try a different approach. "Must have really broken your heart good, huh?"

His arm swings hard, launching another screw, then another, and finally he glares at me. "She was everything I thought I wanted in a woman. Sweet, kind, funny--until she wasn't. She was a small-town girl with a massive debt that needed paid. I saw a way to be her knight in shining armor and thought we had a love that would last the ages. Then she took my armor and melted it into horseshoes and road off with my money and my heart. Okay?"

His words sting as if I were the one who'd hurt him. I wince at the bite in his tone as he goes back to throwing his screws and I stared at my hands. Folding my fingers together then wringing them, I try to think of anything I can say to lessen the tension. He's probably hungry and tired of being on the ground. It's been more than forty-eight hours and no one has come for us. I try to keep that in mind as I continue.

"Look, do you need to talk about it? I'm a good listener."

Adrian stands abruptly, dropping dozens more screws that were piled on his lap. He starts pacing and crams his hand through his hair. I feel out of place sitting here, so I stand too but I hug my arms over my stomach and watch him pace. If I knew asking about his love life would have this effect on him, I'd have kept silent.

"You know, Eden, I have tried to be the hero so many times, I'm beginning to think it isn't what I'm meant for."

"Hero? What do you mean?"

"All I wanted for Wren was to save her from the issue she was facing, but she turned on me. She took me for almost everything, and then left. And all I've tried to do here for you is to help you and--"

"Oh, god. Not this again." I roll my eyes, knowing he's diving into the "old decrepit house" bit again. He doesn't even know I'll actually sell to him now, and maybe I should tell him so he'll feel comforted, but the way he's acting like I'm the one who broke his heart makes me angry.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, you have some obsession with saving me. Why? Why can't you let me fail? Why can't you let go and back off? Why do you have to save me? Why did you have to save your ex-wife?" My words cut. I watch them carve away at his psyche and I never even mean to do it. But I can't take them back now, even though they cut me too. I don't want to hurt him. I want to comfort him and I'm miserable at it.

"Why can't you see a good thing when it's right in front of you!" he screams and walks right up to me. His jaw is tight, his chest heaving, and his hands are in fists at his side. He won't hurt me, and I'm not intimidated. Instead, I choose to do exactly what he's accusing me of not doing.

I look at him. I study him. He's in pain. This isn't rage. It's not anger. It's heartbreak and I see him for the first time since he came to this god-forsaken town. And for the first time, I don't want to fight him. I want to heal him.

I take a step forward and he doesn't move. His angry glare, and the way his nostrils flare out don't intimidate me. I reach up and touch his cheek. He flinches and his forehead creases, a deep furrow forming between his eyebrows.

"I see you," I whisper before rising up on my tiptoes and brushing my lips over his.

It takes him a moment to register what's happening. I linger with my lips on his until I almost lose my balance and then his arms wrap around me. Adrian kisses me back, the hungry, devouring type of kiss that knocks me off my feet and it's a good thing he holds me up. His hands slide up my sides, feeling the warmth of my body against his rough palms, and I let out a soft moan into his mouth. His fingers dance along my skin until they reach the small of my back, gently pulling me closer to him. I feel myself melting into his touch. The stubble on his face scratches against my chin, but it only adds to the intensity of this moment.

He's an animal, disarming me with only his kiss, and I'm helpless to do anything but yield. He backs me toward the wall, pinning me there as he pulls my shirt ove rmy head, My hands search his body briefly before searching for the fly of his pants. I need him now, or I'm going to go insane. And i need him for the most important reason. I need his heart and his hands, and his body. And i need to experience him one more time before he decides he's done iwth Elisabethton and leave for good.

But most of all i need him to realize that I could be what he's been waiting for. And i need him to know it now.

Chapter 20

Eden's hands tear at my clothing, stripping me in a matter of seconds, so I return the favor. Her kiss is hungry and feverish, as if I'm the water in the middle of the desert that she's been thirsting for.

She pushed a button and pissed me off, but it wasn't her fault. It was mine, for not healing the parts of my heart that Wren destroyed. Eden wasn't trying to upset me or mock me; she was trying to comfort me, and I can't even understand why. All I can do is kiss her and help her out of her jeans and panties, and my god do I want to bury myself inside of her and never come out.

Eden's lips meet mine again, her tongue exploring every crack and crevice of my mouth in a desperate search for something more. She tastes sweet and familiar, like home, but also new and exciting, like adventure. My heart races with anticipation beneath her soft palms that stroke my chest. My arm wraps around her waist, pulling her naked body against mine and my cock throbs, rubbing against her mound as I force her backward still.

"God, oh... god," she breathes, and then she bites my lip. I want her just as desperately. I wanted her last night as I held her, and the night before.

"Not god, Adrian," I reminded her grabbing hte back of her right thigh. I hoist it into the air as I lower myself to one knee on the cot and she descends with me, gracefully sliding down my body until her pussy spreads wide nad accepts my girth.

She moans and shudders as I sink into her, laying her on the cot. My body presses down on hers as I push deeper. She's hot and wet, and it's glorious the way her skin slides across mine, easing the ache I've had for days to feel her around me again.

"Wow, you feel incredible." As Eden's tongue invades my mouth, my body reacts with an intensity that surprises even me. I can feel the heat radiating from her skin as she grinds against me, her breasts squashed against my chest, and it only fuels my desire. My hands roam over her perfect ass cheeks, squeezing gently before trailing up to cup her breasts once more. They're soft under my touch, yet firm with desire.

Eden's breathing grows ragged as she bucks her hips against mine. Her eyes flutter shut and her nails dig into my shoulders, not painfully but possessively. I can feel how much she wants this, too. How much we both want this. Her body is flush against mine, our hips moving in sync, driving each other towards completion as our mouths tangle once more in a messy, needy kiss. I love the way we work together, grinding and finding our rhythm. We were made for each other.

"Ahhh, God, I want you so bad. I'm already so close." Her voice is frantic, as if she needs me. I want to please her.

I grit my teeth, willing myself to stay calm as she squeezes a hand between us and touches herself. I feel her fingers working her clit and I thrust faster.

"God you're so beautiful, Eden. So incredibly gorgeous."

It's like my words are the magic button. She comes undone beneath me, clenching and milking me. The cot creaks under our combined weight as we grind against each other, our breaths meshing together in hot, heavy pants. She's beyond words, lost in the sensation, and I'm on the edge. I wait as long as I can, holding out to give her the most pleasure, but when I feel my nuts tighten, drawing up, I know that's it.

I pull out, gripping my dick, and let the cum spurt into my fist. She whimpers at the lack of cock inside her, while her fingers continue to massage her sensitive nub, and I kiss her again, this time more intimate, lingering a while. Her body melding against the length of mine, I want to stay here and tell her my new plan, how I really feel. That I'm in love with her. But the hot chunky mess in my hand has to be dealt with.

"Don't move a muscle," I whisper, kissing her again. She sighs softly and watches me stand up, still holding my hard cock.

I walk to the bathroom and wash my hand, then relieve my bladder, and wipe my dick off with some toilet paper. By the time I return to the cot, my dick is soft, and she's curled in my jacket and shirt, dozing. I don't have the heart to bother her; she looks so peaceful like that. And so beautiful.

How many times did I feel this way about Wren? Probably never. This wasn't the dynamic of our relationship. But I like it. Eden is different, stronger and bolder, and softer all at once. She's the one I want to protect and care for, and yet rightly deserves the chance to do that for herself too if that's what she wants.

I slip my pants and boxers back on, leaving her sleeping with my other clothing, and I walk up the steps where Luna is whimpering. I sit on the top step and talk to her softly so Eden can't hear me.

"Shhh, it's okay, girl. Mommy's just sleeping." Luna hushes at the sound of my voice, and I get the feeling that I was wrongly afraid of her. Because when I stop talking, she whines again, but calms the instant I talk to her. It's evident that she's not aggressive, just vocal.

"You know, I'm in love with her, Luna. She's infuriating and aggravating--hardheaded even. But she's beautiful and strong and smart. I'm gonna fix this place up and make it everything she remembers it used to be."

I think of how she'll feel when I tell her, and I want to make it special somehow. All I have down here are some jars of tomatoes and pears, and a cot to sit on, but I want her heart to feel full and loved. I'm going to pay off her debt and deal with that asshole that keeps coming around, and I'll find a new little town to build in. Maybe she'll help me.

Luna sniffs at the hole in the door and walks away. I hear her nails clack on the linoleum and think how tile will be much nicer and more durable for Eden, though I'll let her pick whatever she wants. And that thought gets me excited.

I sneak back down the steps and take a jar of pears and a jar of tomatoes off the shelf and sit down on my makeshift bed of cardboard to wait for her to wake. I really hope she loves my idea, because if she doesn't she really is insane. I smile to myself and watch her sleeping like an angel. How on earth did I fall in love with her so quickly? I really hope I'm not being taken for a ride again.

But even if I am, I'll ride as long as I can. Eden Hartley is worth it.