‘Okay, I write Midnight Moon trashy, crappy romance books for a living. Satisfied?'
He jumped back in mock surprise. ‘Naw!'
‘I presume Crystal said far more than you admitted.'
‘Perhaps. I seem to recall an extra minor detail or two.'
‘Yes, I can imagine. Anyway, you may not like them, Mr MacLean, but thousands of other people do!' What was it about the man that got under her skin so much? He was the human equivalent of ringworm.
‘I'm sure they do.'
Commonsense told her to walk away and go to her office. His mocking was attracting to him the anger that was swirling inside her for Jo; for her scratched car; for Matthew's pathetic unhappy face; and most of all for Adam Bloody MacLean because she couldn't stop thinking about his lips on her arm. All afternoon her imagination had been taking those lips and putting them on other places on her body, and she didn't know why but she couldn't seem to stop herself. This wasn't in ‘the plan'. But she did not walk away from his baiting. She not only took it, but she stuck her teeth into it too.
‘In fact, I don't know why I didn't tell you before. It's not as if I should be ashamed. There's a skill involved, unlike managing a place where people pay an obscene amount of money just to lift up heavy objects and sweat!'
Oh, she wants to fight, does she? he thought, crossing his arms and preparing for battle.
‘So, is that all I do then? And there was me thinking I work quite hard for my money.' He knew the next bit would infuriate her, but he didn't care. He was enjoying the verbal parry. It was making him forget all about the visitor who had weighed down his head for most of the day. ‘Well, at least I don't sit on my bum all day.'
‘Me sitting on my bum all day has put money on the table to feed my child. Yes, I'm a Midnight Moon writer and I'm proud of it!' Stevie jutted out her chin and nodded her head by way of an exclamation mark.
‘I'm sure sad people all over the world appreciate you.'
This, unfortunately, didn't come out quite as his gentle teasing had intended, adding a pint of petrol to her already blazing temper.
‘Yes, sad people with a brain who can do joined-up lettering! You patronizing Scottish git.'
She had a silly smattering of freckles on her nose. He had the sudden desire to kiss them. That would shut her up.
‘I was trying to give you a compliment actually.'
‘Stick your compliment up "yer ers", Mr MacLean,' said Stevie. ‘I don't need compliments from a man like you.'
‘And what sort of a man am I, Ms Honeywell? I see we're back on formal terms again.'
‘The sort of man that I can't wait to see the back of on Sunday! I'm going to work. Good night,' and off she went in the direction of the office, chuntering expletives, to write about Damme MacQueen being thrown off a cliff.
Adam smiled. The angrier she got, the funnier she was, but as soon as Stevie left him, his thoughts started to drift back to the afternoon and a life that felt a million light years away from this crazy set-up. A life he had the chance to go back to. A life with a beautiful house and a beautiful woman in it. The life he had fought to win back. The life he surprisingly found he had won back.
So what was it that was stopping him?
Chapter 46
Unless a miracle happened in the next twenty-four hours, Adam's prophecy that all would be settled by Sunday was not going to come true. Matthew and Jo were very much still together, although a sneaky few spying looks in the mornings had revealed that they weren't half as hand-holdy or snoggy as they used to be, and there was even less smiling going on than at Princess Diana's funeral.
Adam had started gathering up his stuff and sorting out his laundry. His undies were drying on the line – they were white and Calvin Klein. Matthew was more of a briefs bloke – black and designer label also, but they paled into sexual second place as soon as she saw those white boxers. Matthew's bum had been a bit skinny for Stevie's tastes; Adam's was quite chunky. Not that she'd looked at it much. Well …
They hadn't seen a lot of each other in the last few days. He hadn't been in the house much, and when he had, Stevie had found herself avoiding him, shutting herself away in her office to work. Damme MacQueen was a good man – misjudged, kind, and wonderful. He didn't beat up women and he was safe to love. Evie was going to be a lucky lady.
Adam had deliberately been coming home after Danny had gone to bed, for which Stevie was grateful. It was going to be bad enough having to uproot her son again to find yet another place to live, without finding out he'd got attached to ‘Well Life Man' too. It all felt terribly scary and unsettling, and she was cross at herself for believing Adam MacLean could really get them reunited with their rightful partners. He might not have been Mystic Meg, but he had her hopes up so high, the only way was down and they were coming down fast. It was something else to blame the man for.
‘Can I do anything to help?' he asked, as she stomped around the kitchen, making a big noise as she transferred the crockery out of the dishwasher into the various cupboards.
‘No!' she said. Then softer, ‘No thanks.'
‘Why the brass band?' he asked as the pans crashed together as she put them away.
‘Because I want to.' Yes, she sounded petulant and she expected him to make some sarcastic comment. He didn't disappoint.
‘Do you want to throw a few of your toys aroon as well while you're at it?'
‘No, thank you.'
‘Watch that bottom lip afore you trip o'er it!'
‘Not listening, sorry.'
‘I'll get you a teddy that you can throw oot your cot and make yersel' feel better.'
‘Very funny. Ha ha!'
‘Ah, so y'are listening! Maybe you need burping. Want me to pat your back a wee bit?'
She cast him a look that tried to kill him. She would like to have screamed at him to bugger off, but Danny was on his bicycle in the garden so she couldn't. She was finding that the pressure of keeping her feelings in was making her blow steam out of her earholes, so she rough-handled the crockery instead and dropped one of the nice plates which crashed to the floor, spattering the pieces everywhere.
‘Och, now you'll have to pay for that oot your pocket-money!'
That's it!
She turned on him. ‘Everything's a big joke to you, isn't it?'
‘No, it isnae. But pretending you're at a Greek wedding isn't going to bring Matty Boy back to you any quicker. And there's no use snapping at me – this isnae my fault.'
‘Isn't it?' Stevie laughed, a hard unjolly sound. ‘This situation is all because of you, Adam MacLean. All!'
‘Okay, stop there,' said the sensible part of her brain, looking around for the brake, whilst in the meantime, her mouth carried on in fifth gear.
‘I've lost my home and my man, and my little boy has lost his chance of a family. You might have thrown your relationship away, but I didn't. Make no mistake – this all happened Because. Of. You!' She barged past him to get the cutlery, not noticing that the highly amused and gentle teasing smile had dropped like a hot rock from Adam's lips and he moved quickly to block her way.
‘Whoa, whoa! Now you ho'd on a wee minute, lady. I need you to rewind this conversation. What was that bit about throwing my relationship away?'
There was something in his manner that made Stevie realize she had gone too far and was on dangerous territory, but there was no taking it back.
‘Nothing, I meant nothing.' She moved to skirt him and he moved with her and put his hands on her arms to pull her back in front of him. The startled little yelp she gave made him drop his hold immediately.
‘Sorry, did I hurt you?'
‘No,' she said, because he hadn't, but he saw in her eyes a flashing thought that he might. That fear. He knew that look so well. He had seen it in his mammy's and his sisters' eyes so many times.
‘What's going on, Stevie? What's happened? What did you mean?'
Stevie wouldn't meet his eyes.
‘Please, Stevie!' He was desperate now to find out what she meant. She knew something about him that he needed to know. That look she had given him scared him. ‘What am I supposed to have done in my relationship that all this was my fault? Please – what did you mean? What do you know? What have you heard? You have to tell me now.'
He wasn't going to let up on this, she knew. She slumped down on the kitchen table. She wasn't sure what was true or not any more, but at least she wasn't about to add to the mess by lying herself.