from twenty-five forward and made him question everything that had gone on before.
“Tell me,” he said, wanting her to trust him. He didn’t question why gaining her trust was so important. He only knew that with Grace it was one of the things he wouldn’t compromise on.
“Tell you what?”
“Whatever it is about those pictures that made you turn several interesting shades of red.”
“I’m going to sound like a loser,” she said.
He cupped the back of her neck and drew her toward him, leaning down to kiss her. To tell her with his embrace that he believed in her. “Never.”
“I don’t know what to do with you,” she said. The words sounded like a confession and he knew to some extent they were.
Because he’d read the words she’d written. He’d returned her story to her office and noticed it had disappeared from her desk. He’d sat in her chair in her home office and imagined her writing there, having sexy dreams about him.
He lifted his head and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. Touching her was an addiction. A craving that never really left him.
“Tell me,” he said again.
She wrapped her small hand around his wrist, turned her face into his hand, breathing deeply and keeping her eyes closed.
“They are pictures of … Well, I don’t spend a lot of holidays with my father and those are photos taken with other people’s families.”
He felt a punch in his gut. She had more hidden depths than he’d realized and he had no idea if he knew how to sort them out. Why did he even want to?
The answer was simple and easy. He wanted to be her hero. He wanted to be worthy of the fantasies she’d weaved about him. He wanted to be the kind of man she’d still look up to when she knew him well.
Instead, he was stuck with being the man he’d always been. Someone who took one look around him when the going got rough and then packed his bags and looked for a different challenge. One that wasn’t personal. One that didn’t really affect him.
But it was too late where Grace was concerned. He liked the personal connection they had.
She watched him with her wide, sad eyes, waiting for him to say something.
“No one’s life is picture perfect,” he said, trying to share with her what he’d learned in the last fifteen years. How he’d struggled to come to terms with having his entire life turn out to be a lie. Not a malicious one, but a lie nonetheless.
“I don’t want perfection,” she said. She shifted away from him, wrapping her arms around her own waist.
He didn’t want her to soothe herself when he was right there and more than willing to offer her comfort. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his body.
“I’ve got to go to the restroom,” she said.
He guessed she was just using it as an excuse but got to his feet. “I’ll show you where they are.”
Adam was easy to follow as they moved through the arena hallway toward the restrooms. Since this was a Platinum Club floor there wasn’t a lot of foot traffic. She knew asking to go to the bathroom was lame and had avoidance written all over it, but Adam had been pushing too hard and she was about to just give in and tell him another one of her secrets. Peel away another layer of her carefully crafted facade and bare her soul.
She didn’t want to get into a heavy conversation. She’d been having fun. Having a normal date and, somehow, she’d blundered and ruined it.
“You don’t have to wait for me. I can find my way back to the box.”
“I don’t mind.”
She ducked into the ladies’ room. When she came back out she glanced around for him. The hallway was a little more crowded now. For a second she couldn’t find him and wondered if he’d gone back without her. She started that way when she felt his heavy hand on her shoulder. He drew her to a stop.
“I’m not going to stop asking you questions about those pictures.”
“I’m making it into too big a deal. Really it’s nothing. A group of teachers and I have a wine and supper club. There are twelve of us and we take turns hosting the monthly dinner. The last time they were at my place someone commented on the fact that I had no family snapshots anywhere.”
“So you started displaying photos taken with other people’s families?”
“Yes. Until then, I never noticed that I didn’t have any photos and other people had them. I’m not one for looking back.”
“Yet you crave roots.”
“That’s different. I just want to have a place I belong. I don’t need decades of ancestry for that.”
A couple brushed past them, oblivious to the world. They had their arms around each other. She realized it would be easy to look at them and assume life was simple for them—and maybe it was.
She always wanted relationships to fall into nice, straightforward categories. The work relationships she had with Bruce and the teachers on her staff. The mentoring role she had with her students. But she couldn’t put an easy label on Adam. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted any man.
It was a weakness to want him. Because he didn’t fit into the safe boxes that others did and she had the feeling he never would. He was never going to be someone she felt completely comfortable with.
“Let’s go back to our box,” he said, cupping his hand under her elbow and leading her back to the stairs. She couldn’t read his expression but had the distinct impression that he was angry.
“Adam?”
They stopped walking and turned. Grace wanted to groan out loud when she saw Sue-Ellen Hanshaw. Of course she always looked well put-together and made Grace feel every bit the small-town poor kid she’d always been.
She suspected the other woman didn’t do it intentionally. Sue-Ellen definitely put her kids and family first, which Grace could admire.
“Hi, Sue-Ellen, enjoying the game?”
“I am. I thought I saw you earlier with Grace.”
Wasn’t she clever?
“Adam was just giving me a quick lesson in hockey.”
“Where are you two sitting?” Sue-Ellen asked.
“Up in one of the private boxes.” Adam’s tone didn’t broker an invitation to join them.
“Do you have other guests?”
Sue-Ellen sounded suspicious. With each question Grace felt her skin get tighter. She wanted to disappear—heck, if she hadn’t been running away from Adam’s questions, they’d never have seen Sue-Ellen.
“No.
