Page 17 of Five Minute Man
Chapter 9
As each day passed, Adam was convinced he must have missed something. No woman could be that perfect. Holly was close to his age, well past the silly girl stage, but not too old to have fun. On the quiet side, yet intelligent and funny. Beautiful and sexy with just the right amount of curves. Self-sufficient, but approachable. Willing to ask for, and appreciate, help. Plus, she liked kids, dogs, and historic homes.
That wasn’t all. They had sat in the coffee shop and talked for hours, and it had been soeasy. He even liked the way she said his name. Her voice was pitched just a bit lower than average, and she tended to speak softly, so every time she said it, it sounded like a lover’s address.
She had bought the old gamekeeper’s cottage, which meant she had excellent taste and they shared a common interest. And ... the one thing that stole the breath from his lungs was that she had actually invited him over to her place on the premise of getting his professional opinion. It might have been purely professional, or it might not. Either way, she had managed to ask in a way that his inner caveman wasn’t offended.
Of course, there was the fact that she wrote romance novels and was apparently well-versed on vibrators, but he tried not to think about either of those things too much. She certainly seemed down-to-earth, and as far as he could tell, she didn’t seem to be holding him to any unrealistic expectations. If anything, she seemed even more cautious than he was.
He rubbed absently at his chest with one hand while he poured another bowl of cereal with the other. Yeah, he must have missed something, because no woman that good would still be available.
“Why not? You are,” Brandon asked, breezing into the kitchen.
Adam shot his nephew a look, then nearly groaned when he realized he must have been muttering his thoughts out loud. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Normally, he tried to keep his private thoughts just that, but perhaps he could use the kid as a sounding board. Thanks to his own big mouth, Brandon had the gist of what was going on, anyway.
“What do you know about her?”
Brandon shrugged, snatched the milk, and poured himself a glass. “Not much. Her full name is Holly Noelle McTierney. Her birthday is December 25th, hence the name. She grew up about fifty miles southeast of here. She writes romance novels, and currently has five books published, available online. She’s never been married and has no kids, but she does have a dog, Max, that she rescued about a year ago.”
At Adam’s gaping stare, Brandon grinned wickedly, adding, “Oh yeah, and she has dinner with her friend every Tuesday at Applebee’s, is an excellent tipper, and doesn’t believe in the possibility of five-minute orgasms.”
“How do you know all this?”
A smirk. “Ever hear of Google?”
“Yougoogledher?”
“Well, yeah. I knew you wouldn’t do it, and someone’s got to have your back, Uncle Adam. Oh, and she has a website and social media pages, too. Based on some of the comments posted out there, it’s pretty steamy stuff.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively as he finished off his glass of milk, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and snatched an apple from the bowl on the table. “You might want to check it out.”
* * *
“HOLLY?”
At the sound of the deep male voice, Holly gripped the phone tighter.
“Yes? Adam?”
“Yeah. Listen, about tomorrow ...”
Holly braced herself for what would come next. She had been expecting it, but as each day had gone by, she had allowed herself to hope a little more. She had made it all the way to Wednesday, but now he was calling to cancel, she just knew it.
Oh well, she lamented, searching for the positives. At least the cottage got a good, and much-needed, cleaning. The anticipation of seeing him again had done wonders for her creativity. She had finished off that historical she had been stuck on for two months and made significant progress on two or three others.
“Yes?”
“I was thinking maybe I could pick up something to eat on the way, if that’s okay with you. I won’t have time to grab something after work. Unless you have other dinner plans, that is,” he added hastily.
He wasn’t canceling? He was offering to bring dinner?She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it.
“Holly, are you there?”
“Um, yeah, I’m here,” she said, leaning against the counter and bringing the phone back to her ear. Max looked up at her and blinked. “Sorry. That would be great, actually.”
“Do you like Chinese?”
“I love Chinese,” she admitted.
“Great. Anything I should avoid?”
“I’m not big on seafood.”
She thought she heard a sigh of relief. “Me neither. So, I’ll see you about six tomorrow?”
“Six is good.”
Holly hung up the phone and did a little happy dance right there in the kitchen. “He’s still coming, Max! And he’s bringing dinner! Chinese food!”
Max’s ears perked up in interest. He loved Chinese take-out almost as much as she did.
