He opens the shower door and makes no attempt to disguise the way his eyes roam over every inch of my body. “Hey, beautiful. I’m going upstairs to use the shower up there. You sure you’re okay? You don’t need a hand in here?”
I throw him a thumbs-up and he smiles as he closes the door.
When I get upstairs, he’s already showered and lying in the pink bed with a roll of gauze and medical tape next to him and his feet hanging off the end.
“Jamie’s bed is not the most comfortable bed in the universe,” he says as I set my soggy bathing suit down on top of the suitcase on the floor and climb into bed. “But it just got much cozier.”
I hand him the gauze and the medical tape and he wraps up my toe. He kisses it softly before I tuck myself in under the covers. I switch off the lamp on the bedside table and turn onto my side. He slides in behind me to spoon me.
“You’re my hero.”
“I know what I’m getting you for your twenty-first birthday,” he whispers in my ear as his fingertips slip under my shirt and glide over my ribcage. “Besides Life Alert.”
“What are you getting me?” I ask as I try to ignore the growing gift prodding my backside.
“You’ll see.” He plants a soft kiss on the back of my neck then pulls my shirt down over my belly. “Goodnight, babydoll.”
“Goodnight.”
Breakfast with the Parker family is a huge event and I finally get to meet his mother, Margaret Parker. She has Adam’s green eyes and graceful stature combined with a gracious Southern charm. As soon as Adam and I come down for breakfast, she greets me with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Aren’t you just the prettiest thing? Look at her, Kimmy,” she says to Uncle Harvey’s wife, Aunt Kim, who’s scooping scrambled eggs onto a long row of breakfast plates lined up on the kitchen island. “Doesn’t she remind you of Winona?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Parker,” I mutter, not certain if I should be flattered that I look like Winona.
Adam grabs two plates of scrambled eggs and thick-cut bacon as he squints at me. “She does kind of look like Winona with lighter hair. I never noticed it until now.”
“Who’s Winona?” I finally ask, taking the plate Adam hands me as we make our way to a long breakfast table stocked with a basket of blueberry muffins and a heaping plate of homemade waffles.
I grab a muffin as Margaret sits next to me. “Winona is my little sister. Or, she was. She died ‘bout twenty years ago. You would have loved her. She was such a free spirit, like you. That must have taken a lot of courage to move all the way from Raleigh to Wrightsville all on your own.”
I turn to Adam and he smiles as he keeps his eyes on his plate. “I don’t know. I’m pretty used to moving around a lot. My mother died when I was seven so I moved from one foster home to another for a very long time.”
Her eyebrows knit together as she rubs my back. “I’m so sorry to hear that, but happy to see that you’ve turned into such an independent and beautiful young woman. Some of us have more fight in us than others. Just like my Adam. You two make a fine pair.”
This woman was not subtle. Between her and her husband, I was beginning to understand why Adam was so persistent when we first met. I ate my breakfast in silence and was glad to help when it was time to start making potato salad, deviled eggs, and various other dishes while the men took their racks of ribs and slabs of meat out to the barbecue.
“Are you gonna be okay in here?” Adam asks as I chop celery for Aunt Kim.
“I’m fine. You go ahead and do your man stuff.”
“She’s fine,” Margaret says as she wraps her arm around my shoulder and gives my arm a squeeze. “You go check on your father. Make sure he’s not burning off what little hair he’s got left.”
Adam looks visibly tense at the mention of his father, but he manages to give me a quick kiss on the cheek before he scurries outside to join the men.
“A bit smaller than that, honey,” Aunt Kim says while passing me on the way to the refrigerator.
Margaret watches the door for a moment after Adam leaves then turns to me. “I know this may not be any of my business, but I want you to know that Adam is crazy about you.”
I smile as I grab another stalk of celery and set about chopping this one a bit smaller.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed the tension between him and his father.”
I look sideways at her and her face is kind and inquisitive. She’s not fishing for information; she’s hoping to impart some wisdom.
“Yes, I’ve noticed that.”
She breathes deeply and exhales a long breath; a breath that is probably filled with years of frustration and regret. “Can you promise me something, honey? Because I know he can be as stubborn as a mule on Wednesday when it comes to talking about his father and you seem like the kind of girl who can get him to open up. But I need you to promise me you’ll keep an open mind when he opens his heart?”