“Why?”
“I told you, I need some space.”
“You’ve only been home a week.”
“Please, Adam. That’s all I ask.”
Goddamn it. He wanted to say no. He wanted to call Hugh or Joe right now and tell them he had Lucy and to come and fucking get her. At least if they knew where she was, the temptation wouldn’t be as bad—no, that was a lie—but it would give him serious motivation to resist her. They were family, but he knew damn well Hugh and Joe wouldn’t want their baby sister alone with him for four days—and nights.
He couldn’t say no, though. Not when she was looking at him like that. Not when he knew there was something going on with her. Something she’d chosen to keep from her family. And whatever it was, it was big enough to have irrevocably altered something fundamental inside her. He could see it. Knew firsthand what that looked like. Saw it every time he looked in a mirror. There was more to this, to Lucy’s erratic behavior the last week. But if she wasn’t opening up to her brothers, she sure as hell wouldn’t open up to him. And honestly, selfishly, he didn’t know if he wanted her to. If he got any deeper with her, there would be no going back. He was close to drowning as it was. Knowing her deepest and darkest would tip him over the edge. He could give her the space she needed from home, though. No matter how much it fucked him up, he could do that for her.
He started the car. “Fine. I won’t tell them.” Guilt assaulted him as he pulled out onto the road. He owed both men a lot. Lying to them, even by omission, didn’t sit well. But what could he do?
“I appreciate it.”
She sat back, getting comfortable, and he had to drag his eyes away from the flex of her thighs as she moved. The way her breasts lifted and lowered on a deep exhale. How the hell was he going to get through four days of this?
“So I’ll finally get to meet a member of your family, huh? Excellent.”
He glanced over at her. “Why am I suddenly worried?”
She lifted and dropped a shoulder. “I have no idea.”
Lucy shoved her hand into her pocket, pulled something out, then dragged the heavy mass of dark hair off her neck and tied it back. The action was mesmerizing. He had to remind himself to keep looking at the damn road.
When she was done, she turned back to him. “Right, I’m freaking starving. Let’s get breakfast.”
Christ.
Chapter Seven
The diner was busy, but the service was fast and the food looked amazing.
Lucy took a sip of her coffee. “Mmm, good.” The nerves that had been dancing in her belly from the moment she opened her eyes and found Adam staring down at her had finally lessened. Okay, hiding in the car instead of asking outright if she could go was a coward’s move, but she knew it was the right one. No way would he have agreed to take her. He’d made that clear when he’d found her and threatened to take her home. God, she still couldn’t believe she’d managed to fall asleep back there. The music blaring most of the drive should have been enough to keep her awake, but somehow under that sleeping bag, breathing in Adam’s unmistakable scent and with classic rock pumping throught the speakers, she’d felt sort of cocooned. The music made it impossible to think or dwell over what she was doing, and the next thing she knew, it was morning.
She glanced across the table. Adam looked edgy as hell, feathers more than a little ruffled. He’d eaten his breakfast in silence and was now waiting for her to finish hers. The whole time he’d been fidgeting or playing on his phone or acting like the scenery out the window was just too interesting to be missed.
He was uncomfortable. She’d gotten her way and he wasn’t happy about it. She should probably feel bad about that, but she couldn’t work up the energy, because she knew exactly why he was feeling uncomfortable.
Now she had to work out how to get him to drop his guard, just a little bit, so she could find a way in. The man was determined to keep her at a distance. He’d even stayed half a yard away from her as they’d walked into the diner. Adam didn’t trust himself with her. She hadn’t missed the not-so-subtle glances, the heat in his eyes, the obvious wood he’d been sporting since he’d found her.
Forking a mouthful of French toast into her mouth, she moaned. “You sure you don’t want some? Fruit and toast isn’t enough for a man like you.”
“I’m fine.”
She moaned again with her next bite and he immediately shifted in his seat. She ducked her head to hide her grin.
“Where the hell does all that food go?” he snapped suddenly, sounding irritable. “You can’t eat like that all the time.”