This kitchen wouldn't clean itself.
*
The spring that had been in Adam's step at 7:30 am this morning was slowly, but surely dying a death.
Nothing was going to plan. His pager had sounded even though he wasn't officially on-call. One of the other doctors in the ER was having problems and needed assistance – so naturally, Adam had gone.
Lisa had been sleeping so peacefully he couldn't bear to wake her. And he'd only be an hour tops. He'd pick up some breakfast for them from the diner on the way back. Or so he thought.
That had been six hours ago. After he had inserted a chest tube and a temporary pacing wire the patient had just been transferred to a Level One facility. Thank goodness. Marietta Hospital dealt with emergencies as best it could – but it didn't have the facilities of a Level One trauma center.
Things had been so fraught when he'd arrived there hadn't been time to change – meaning his shirt was currently blood splattered and the only clothes available were hospital scrubs. He hardly wanted to walk back along Marietta Main Street in those.
His stomach growled loudly as he headed towards the exit. He would go home first, change, then head to the diner to pick up some food for them.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and his steps slowed. Lisa. He didn't even have her number. He couldn't call her to explain. He couldn't even send her a message.
A message. He'd heard her sister this morning. Lisa hadn't mentioned Melody much. And even though it sounded as though they might have had a bit of a fallout she'd probably be over the moon to find out she was going to be an aunt.
A little feeling of dread was creeping up on him. What must Lisa have thought when she woke up this morning to an empty bed and no note? He groaned. She wouldn't know it hadn't been intentional. She wouldn't know he'd expected to be back in an hour.
He was hoping against hope that the message from her sister had put her in a good mood today because there was every chance that, after a killer date, he was in the proverbial dog house.
How on earth was he going to get out of this one?
*
It seemed as though Marietta's population had exploded over night. The diner was packed at the seams and the street had TV vans parked all along it.
Word had got out about the celebrity wedding. No doubt Nancy and Jared had cut a deal with some magazine regarding photographs and interviews.
Lisa pushed her way through the reporters and cameramen. Every booth and table was taken so she grabbed the last stool at the counter.
She signalled to Julia and ordered a diet soda and some scrambled eggs. Last night she hadn't given a second thought to the wasted cakes and tarts – this morning after cleaning she'd realized there was hardly a bit of food left in the house. It all seemed like such a waste.
Julia, the waitress, was clearly harassed. "No, I don't know them. I haven't met them. I've no idea where the wedding is – probably The Graff, it's the only decent hotel for miles." She gestured towards Lisa. "Why don't you ask, Lisa. She owns the bridal salon. She'll probably know a whole lot more than me."
"Sorry," Julia mouthed at her as the pack of piranhas turned and swooped around her.
"Have you met Nancy Parsons?"
"Is she getting her bridal dress from your store?
"Can you tell us what it looks like?"
"Who are the bridesmaids and what are they wearing?"
The noise level was incredible and the questions kept coming. They didn't even wait for answers.
Lisa held up her hands as she saw a familiar face pushing his way through the crowd. Relief swept over her. The tinge of anger could wait.
She took a deep breath. "I'm not free to discuss any of my clients with you. All brides like to keep the details of their wedding secret. I'm sure Nancy Parsons is no different."
"So she is a client?"
"When did she visit?"
"Is she wearing a traditional dress – or something more Hollywood?"
After being polite for a few seconds Adam finally shouldered the last reporter out of the way. "Leave the lady alone. She doesn't want to discuss it."
Julia stared pointedly at the reporter on the stool next to Lisa. "Here's your check." She gestured towards the crowded diner. "We're pretty busy and I'm sure our local doctor needs to get fed. Mind letting him in?"
The reporter pulled some bills from his pocket and took a second glance at Adam. Adam folded his arms across his chest and glared at him, while Julia banged down a clean coffee cup and started to fill it. "Here you go, Adam."
There was no clearer message. The reporter threw them all a dirty look and stood up, muttering under his breath.
This place was packed and it seemed like every second person had a notebook in their hand. This really wasn't the time to tell Adam what she thought about waking up to an empty house.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I got paged by the hospital. I didn't want to wake you and I thought I'd be out and back within an hour."
She raised her eyebrows. She wasn't going to let him off that easy – even though the words paged by the hospital were pretty much a get-out-of-jail-free card.
Lisa glared at him. "You couldn't leave a note?"
Julia banged down her scrambled eggs then nodded her head at Adam. "Usual?" He nodded quickly.
"I didn't think I would be that long. Really, I didn't. And I didn't have your number. We'll need to remedy that, right now." She wasn't expecting it. They'd only had a few dates. She should be trying to play things cool. She didn't want to appear like some crazy stalker girlfriend after a few dates. But Adam should be playing it cool too. So, when he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in close, her breath caught in her throat. His finger trailed down the side of her face. His touch was delicate and light. If she wasn't sitting down her legs would currently be Jell-O. He picked up her phone with his other hand and quickly dabbed his number in. A few seconds later, his own phone beeped. "Now, I've got your number, and you've got mine," he hadn't stopped smiling at her.
"Did you really think I wanted to leave you?" His voice had lowered and had that sexy, husky edge to it – just like it had last night. Blood was currently rushing to all sorts of places in her body right now. He smiled at her. "But you look so peaceful while you're sleeping. It seemed like a crime to wake you."
Sometimes Marietta could be the smallest place in history. She could practically feel every eye in the place turn towards them. Julia had a smile on her lips and was nudging Flo, the short-order cook. It had been a long time since a man had treated her with such affection in broad daylight.
Heat rushed into her cheeks. She felt like a teenage high-schooler. She looked across into his dark eyes. She'd never been this close before at this time of day. Those dark brown eyes were just pulling her in. Making her think about all the things they'd done last night and how good he'd made her feel.
"What would you have done if you did wake me?" The low words were out her mouth before she even had a chance to think about it. Julia thumped down a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of Adam. "Don't mind me," she added cheekily.
Both of them pulled back and Lisa picked up her fork, twiddling it through her scrambled eggs. Part of her was relieved he hadn't actually cut and run the way she'd suspected. Adam didn't seem like that kind of guy. But when the evidence was in front of her and her confidence was at an all time low, it seemed almost believable.
He picked up some maple syrup and poured it on his pancakes and shot her a cheeky sideways glance. "Let's leave that answer until later, okay?"
He winked at her. Adam Brady winked at her. She was fourteen all over again.
She'd come in here all angry and annoyed. She would be leaving like some horny teenager.
Adam started on his pancakes. "So, it looks like the press have rolled into town. I suspected this would happen. Why were they hassling you?"
"They all want an exclusive on Nancy's dress. It would help if I'd actually seen it – but I haven't. I've no clue what it looks like."
He smiled. "But you wouldn't tell anyway, would you? Why don't you give them a horror story about the bridesmaids instead?"
"Oh don't." She leaned her forehead on the counter top. "I have a horrible feeling these dresses could ruin me."
He wrinkled his brow. "What are you talking about? Surely everyone will want to know where Nancy got her bridesmaid dresses? Won't that be good publicity for the salon?"