Undue Influence Page 9

  Understated competence should not be such a turn-on.

  Freddy shook his head and reminded himself again that now was not the time.

  Not that there ever would be a time. Pride. Have some goddamn pride.

  Adam had been quite clear about not wanting Freddy, in the end, and Freddy would not lower himself to suggest that decision be revisited.

  Chapter Nine

  Eight years ago

  “Hi.”

  How was it possible that one syllable was capable of turning Freddy’s insides to mush? It had been an extra-busy shift at Miller’s, and meeting up with Adam afterward was like sinking into a warm, comforting bath. Or maybe a warm, comforting bath into which someone had dropped a hair dryer, because with Adam, the warmth of familiarity co-existed with an electric current of lust. The way Adam had been so clearly waiting for him. The way his eyes had lit up and he’d flashed Freddy a quick, quiet smile. The way he’d reached out and quickly laid his hand against Freddy’s face in a gesture that was both a tender greeting and exhilarating expression of possession. It was swift, conducted in such a way that no one else saw, but Freddy was as stupidly thrilled as if Adam had chartered a skywriter to fill the sky with ADAM + FREDDY.

  “You ready?” His voice had gone gravelly.

  “Yeah.” Adam smiled, and they set out like always, and soon they were grinning at each other like dorks as they strolled. There were probably cartoon hearts and songbirds flitting around their heads.

  But then something drew Adam’s attention, and the smile slid off his face as he craned his neck to see something over Freddy’s shoulder.

  Freddy turned. Rusty Anderson—in his Lady Merlot persona—was coming out of the drugstore across the street.

  “Let’s drive,” Adam said suddenly.

  “What?”

  “You have your car somewhere, right?”

  “Uh, yeah. It’s back at Miller’s.” Was Freddy imagining things, or was Adam trying to avoid Rusty?

  They were both out, and Rusty was gay. Unlike Adam’s family, he’d never had any issue with Adam being gay. So that left Freddy wondering: was Adam was embarrassed to be seen with Freddy because he was…Freddy?

  No, that had to be wrong. Adam wasn’t like that.

  “I was just thinking, um…”

  “Yeah?” Freddy prompted.

  Adam waggled his eyebrows. “If we drove, we’d get there sooner.”

  A bolt of lust—tinged with no small amount of relief—shot through Freddy. He dug his keys out of his pocket. “Let’s go.”

  Present day

  Thirty minutes after the incident, Lulu was being loaded into an ambulance. The paramedics had bandaged a gash on her head—but not before, to her utter mortification, shaving a section of it—and pronounced her most likely fine. But she’d hit her head pretty hard on the dock as she’d fallen, and they thought it best for her to spend the night in the hospital to be monitored for a concussion.

  “Henry!” Lulu cried. She’d been borderline hysterical after her “fall”—Freddy still had his doubts about the accidental nature of the event—and now it appeared she was ramping up again. “Henry! Ride with me.” Freddy felt a little bad. The fact that she’d stopped hitting on him and wanted her brother with her suggested that even if the accident hadn’t been genuine, the resulting distress was.

  After some logistical discussion, it was decided that Henry would ride with Lulu in the ambulance and Mark and Chloe would follow, Mark driving Henry’s car so it could be left at the hospital for when Henry needed it.

  “Adam and I will meet you at the main entrance,” Chloe said to Mark, clearly assuming she was taking her brother-in-law with her.

  Adam looked at Freddy.

  “If you’d rather walk,” Freddy said, “I’ll walk with you. I could use some fresh air.” Never mind that they’d all been gulping fresh air all evening as the drama unfolded outside.

  “I’d rather walk,” Adam said shyly.

  “It’s going to take you forever!” Chloe rolled her eyes. “You are such a freak.” But she must have been used to this quirk of his because she said no more, merely made her goodbyes, and then she and Mark were off, leaving Ben, Adam, and Freddy alone in front of the house.

  “Will you come in and let your hair dry and have a drink before you set out?” Ben asked.

  Freddy was surprised when Adam agreed. He was usually only up for a limited amount of socializing, and this evening had been…a lot, even for Freddy, who had learned, in his years in the restaurant business, how to turn on the gregariousness despite his essential misanthropy. But Ben and Adam seemed to have genuinely hit it off earlier, which continued to gratify Freddy.

  Inside, Ben poured three glasses of whiskey. He handed one to Adam, saying, “I think something stronger than wine is called for,” and went to the fireplace. Soon he had a crackling fire burning and had lured Adam, who’d changed into some of Ben’s clothing, over to sit beside it.

  It was a tidy little scene, Adam wearing Ben’s clothing, accepting a drink from him with murmured thanks. Once again, Freddy reminded himself that Ben was one hundred percent straight.

  Not that that was relevant. Even if Ben had been making a move on Adam—which he wasn’t—it was of no interest to Freddy.

  “Well, isn’t this very cozy and nineteenth-century?” Adam joked. “Drying my hair by the fire.”

  Ben smiled. “After a barely averted tragedy involving an ill-timed swoon.”

  “If only we’d had smelling salts, we might not have needed paramedics,” Adam quipped.

  “Too bad there isn’t a yard full of turnips to pick. The monotony would probably calm our nerves.”

  Freddy attempted not to find it cute when both men erupted into laughter at what must haven been an inside joke.

  Ben and Adam had a lot in common besides the fact that they were both bookworms. They each had a dry sense of humor and a fierce intelligence, both of which they kept close to their chests. Freddy thought again that it was probably no accident that he’d been attracted to them both—to Ben as a friend and to Adam as…everything.

  God, as much as he didn’t want it, all that attraction was back. It wasn’t just physical attraction, though Adam’s dark good looks were as potent as ever. It was the way Adam just…sucked up all his attention. His awareness. When he was in the room, Freddy was exquisitely aware of every move Adam made. Of his posture, and as impossible as it seemed, his mood. Even after all these years, he could tell, from the slight shifting of his weight, when his leg was bothering him. Or when he was biting his tongue to keep from saying something snarky to his brother or sister-in-law.

  For God’s sake, he’d almost cut off his finger at one point during the dinner prep because he’d been so distracted by Adam. It was exhausting.

  Which is why it made no sense that he’d signed up to walk two hours round trip with him.

  “You sure I can’t run you home?” Ben asked.

  “Thanks, but no. I’m a devoted pedestrian.”

  “You always were.” As much as Adam had hurt him, Freddy couldn’t help liking how that hadn’t changed.

  “Yeah,” Adam said. “And you were always so nice to walk me home back in the day, but I’m really okay on my own.”

  “Wait. What?” Ben’s brow furrowed. Yeah, Freddy had never told Ben about his…thing with Adam back in the day. He wasn’t really sure why. Adam had been out, as had Freddy. Most people in town apparently hadn’t known he was bisexual though—as evidenced by how surprised they had all apparently been by the “coming out” episode of Food Fanatics.

  His family and Ben had definitely known he was into both girls and guys, though, and they were cool with it. They never talked about it explicitly, but Freddy got the feeling that Adam hadn’t told anyone about them back then, and he’d followed his lead, even if he’d sometimes had to swallow the uncomfortable sense that maybe Adam was hiding him.

  He’d rationalized shoving down those occasional moment
s of discomfort because their romance had been so intense that it had felt…private. Like it was for them only.

  But eventually, he’d wanted more. Tried to force things as the summer drew to an end.

  And had lost everything in the process.

  “Yeah, um…” Adam clearly hadn’t realized Ben didn’t know about his past with Freddy. “Freddy used to walk me home sometimes when we both worked at Miller’s Inn.”

  “Did he now?” Ben darted a glance at Freddy, a glance that suggested there would be an interrogation later.

  All right. That was his cue. He stood. “You ready?”

  “Let the man finish his drink,” Ben protested.

  “It’s all right.” Adam tipped his head back to do just that. “I’m done.”

  “Text if you want me to come get you at any point,” Ben called after him as they headed down the driveway.

  By the time they entered Uppercross and approached Adam’s street, Freddy was much calmer. The walk had been a mix of not-uncomfortable silence and real conversation.

  When they reached the motorhome, Freddy asked, “Did your family kick you out of the house? Is that why you moved into this thing?” As much as he wanted to hate Adam, the impulse to kick the ass of anyone who had mistreated him was strong this evening.

  “Oh, no. After my dad died, I just…couldn’t take living under the same roof as my mom and Betsy anymore. It was like he was a buffer for them, both personality-wise and financially. And then once he was gone…”

  “It did not enable the angels of their better nature?”

  Adam chuckled. “It did not.”

  “Good. Well, not good, but I’ve been wondering if she kicked you to the curb. I know she wasn’t thrilled when you came out.”

  “Yeah, but she got over that. And once it became clear I wasn’t the sort of homosexual she wanted, she mostly left me alone—when it came to that, anyway. She still hates my hair. And my freckles.”

  Freddy knew Adam’s family had kicked him out and then relented, but they’d never really talked openly about his relationship with his mother. Freddy had been able to infer everything he needed to know from that horrible dinner. “What sort of homosexual did she want?”

  “You know, one like she used to see on that straight-guy makeover show. Someone stylish.” He held a hand up in front of his face the way people did when they were admiring a ring or a new manicure. “It’s too dark to see, but I pretty much have grease permanently under my fingernails.”

  Why was that…so hot?

  Freddy generally didn’t go for the working-class hero type. His hookups in the city tended to be customers, who, given they were eating at his restaurant, were well-off.

  They’d reached the door to the RV. “You think Lulu’s okay?” Adam asked.

  “I’m sure we’d have heard if she wasn’t.” Freddy paused, unsure if he should say the rest. Well, fuck it. “You did a good thing back there, saving her.”

  “Eh. I didn’t save her. She would have been fine. She was two feet from the dock.”

  “Still. You kept your head. That was more than the rest of us can say. She’s lucky you were there.”

  Adam continued to deflect the praise. “This will be the best thing that happens to Lulu all summer. She’ll get so much mileage out of it.”

  “She’s…something.”

  “Yeah, she, uh, seems fond of you.”

  Freddy chuckled. “You think?”

  “I do. You’re exactly her type.”

  “What’s her type?” He couldn’t resist asking. What qualities did Adam think Lulu saw in him?

  “Rich. Famous.”

  “I’m hardly famous.” He couldn’t deny the rich part.

  “Well, you’re the highest profile person ever to come out of this town, and Lulu has to work with what she has. Say what you will about her, she’s resourceful. I mean, jumping into the lake?”

  “Yes! She did jump, right?”

  “Seems like it.”

  Vindication! He hadn’t been imagining that she’d done it on purpose. But he did sort of feel bad that her stunt was so obvious that everyone had seen through it. “Well, one thing I will say about Lulu McGuire is she keeps things interesting.”

  Adam blinked a few times, and Freddy had the strange sense that he was trying to cover up his true expression. He found himself desperately curious about what that expression would have been.

  “You want me to drive you back to Ben’s?” Adam asked.

  “Can I use your bathroom?” Suddenly, Freddy wanted to see inside Adam’s RV. If he couldn’t see what was going on inside Adam’s head, he wanted to see inside his home. Enough to manipulate his way in there apparently, because normally, outside and under the cover of darkness, the side of a tree was good enough for him.

  “Uh, sure.” Adam unlocked the door and held it for Freddy. “Light’s just to your right. Beware the—”

  Freddy was almost bowled over a flying mass of…not fur exactly. More like a compact bundle of skin-covered bones that leaped on him in a flurry of licking and high-pitched barking.

  “—dog.” Adam raised his voice. “Mr. Collins! Out.”

  The little mutt, apparently satisfied he had adequately greeted them, jumped down from the RV and trotted happily out into the yard.

  Freddy flipped on the lights, and holy shit.

  “This place is incredible.”

  From the outside, Adam’s place looked like your basic RV. But in here it was like a Pinterest page come to life. From Freddy’s vantage point, he could see all the way down the RV. There were no walls or dividers—it was one big open space. They had entered just past the kitchen, which was close to one end. At the far side on the other end was a huge bed tucked against some windows. Next came a sitting area with a table, then the kitchen, where they were. But the most amazing thing was how the place was decorated. Freddy’s overwhelming first impression was that there were plants everywhere—on most surfaces and packed along a shallow shelf that lined almost the entire space a foot or so from the ceiling. Some of them were twined with tiny white lights—like Christmas lights but smaller—that made the place feel like a fairy garden. “Wow.” He walked farther in. Most RVs Freddy had been in or had seen pictures of were dull—browns, grays, sturdy synthetic fabric, imitation wood. Here, the kitchen cabinets were painted a sky blue that, along with all the greenery, brought to mind lake and sky. There was a tiny vintage Formica table edged in silver flanked by booth-like seating upholstered in a crazy floral pattern made up mostly of lime green but also with some of the same blue as on the cabinets.

  It was cozy and, though Freddy didn’t usually use words like this, uplifting. It was also so very…Adam. It perfectly exemplified Adam’s hidden depths, the rich, beautiful interior he rarely showed people.

  Freddy was as bowled over as he had been by the dog. “It’s almost like you’re outside.”

  “That’s kind of what I was going for.”

  Freddy turned. The end of the RV behind him—which was the front—contained, of course, the driver’s seat and a passenger seat. They were turned around to create a sort of reading nook. There was an end table slotted in between the chairs. It held a lamp and a stack of books. In the space above this tableau was a sort of loft that contained a small library lined with what had to be custom-made shelves, painted the same sky blue as the kitchen cabinetry.

  “That’s new,” Adam said, following Freddy’s gaze. “I used to have a double bed up there above the cab.”

  “For guests?” Which of course made Freddy think about the circumstances under which Adam would have guests. Although in his uncomfortable imaginings, the guests probably did not sleep in the spare bed.

  “In theory. But it never actually got used.”

  Because your guests sleep in the other bed with you? The big one I can see down at the other end?

  “So when we, uh, lost Kellynch, I built this little library.” Adam gestured at the books. “I used to keep most of my b
ooks in the house, but…”

  But my sister displaced you.

  God, the onslaught of crappy emotions reminded Freddy why he didn’t do relationships. Adam had been his first and only. After Adam, he’d reverted to form, keeping his liaisons casual. He was comfortable with casual.

  “I ended up leaving the winemaking books there, though. I had no use for them, and I secretly hoped that whoever bought the place might decide to get it up and running again.”

  “I think they’re a bit overwhelmed right now. But I wouldn’t discount it eventually. My sister’s very entrepreneurial.”

  “So she’s been in Rochester all this time?”

  “Yep. She was an Avon lady.”

  “They still have those?”

  “They do. She did really well.” He was proud of his sister—and himself. In their own ways, both Freddy and Sophie had done the proverbial bootstrap thing, creating a better life for themselves than they’d had as kids. They’d been able to help their mom, too, who, though Sophie had invited her to come live at Kellynch, preferred to stay in the apartment in Rochester to which she’d retired. Freddy did another scan of the space. “So books and nature, basically.”

  Adam laughed. “Yeah, I guess that pretty much sums me up.”

  “I bet when this was parked up against the forest at Kellynch, you really felt like you were in the woods.”

  “I definitely slept better there than I do here.”

  Something twisted in Freddy’s chest at the image of Adam, curled up in his bed in the forest, lit only by the warm glow of the fairy lights. And then twisted harder when he thought of him unable to sleep, tossing restlessly in the same bed, not close enough to the trees for his mind to settle.

  “Anyway, bathroom’s there.” Adam pointed to a small door.

  Right. Freddy went in and peed a bit, even though he didn’t really have to. When he came out, Adam was sitting at the little dinette table, resting his head in his hands.