Long arms slid around her waist from behind and Adam’s husky voice murmured in her ear, “Too bad there’s no bed in here yet.”
Katie sighed and relaxed against him, all thoughts of home improvement having fled at the evidence of his arousal pressed against her back. “Mm-hm. Good thing you have one.”
“A very good thing,” he agreed, turning her to face him.
The kiss started out soft and tender, but mutual hunger turned it hot and heavy in no time. Katie tangled her hands in Adam’s silky hair and pressed her body to his. She moaned at the feel of his hands on her ass, pulling her tight against him. All she wanted to do was throw him down so they could have their way with each other, but the floor left a lot to be desired. It had been her experience that splinters in the ass ruined the mood quicker than almost anything. She broke the kiss, laughing under her breath.
“Never has the lack of a bed been so evident,” she whispered.
“Too true.” His lips brushed across her hair and he chuckled. “Although I suppose I should ask if you’d rather grab something to eat first. After all, it is almost five.”
“Huh.” Katie pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat and was rewarded by a shiver that ran through his long, lean body. “We can have food any time. Let’s go put that bed of yours to good use.”
The squeaky door diverted Katie’s attention from the guitar in her lap as Adam entered with a grease-spotted bag. He grinned and held it up for her attention.
“Food!” His eyes widened as he caught sight of the instrument she held. “Wow, what a beautiful guitar.”
“Thanks.” Katie ran a loving hand over the Gibson 12-string. “I thought I’d better check to see if it got wet, but it was okay.” She continued strumming the song that had been interrupted by Adam’s arrival, checking the tuning of the strings.
Adam sang along as he deposited the bag next to the sink. “You like Van Morrison?”
“I really do.” One hand went to the tuning pegs to adjust the tone. “Especially this one, makes me feel happy.” She left off playing “Brown Eyed Girl” and strummed each string individually, her ear peeled for discordant tones. Satisfied with what she heard, she laid the guitar in its open case beside her and went to stand next to Adam. “I can play more later if you want, but right now I wanna eat.” She gave him a sidelong smile. “All that exercise made me work up an appetite.”
Adam’s arms slid around her waist and pulled her tight against him. “Me, too,” he whispered before placing a warm kiss on her lips. “Worth it, though.” With a last kiss, he released her and opened the bag. “Why don’t you go put on some music and I’ll get the food ready.”
An impressive pile of albums was stacked next to the stereo and Katie flipped through them looking for favorites. A familiar cover brought an exclamation of delight and she pulled four albums from the pile. “Far out! You have all of Wonderkind’s records.”
“Like them, do you?”
“Are you kidding? They’re my favorite band.” She slid their latest release from its sleeve and put it on the turntable.
“Food’s ready.” Adam placed two plates on the low coffee table in front of the couch and beckoned her over.
Katie’s worry over what he’d brought home evaporated when she saw what appeared to be some kind of chicken and rice. The first few bites were delicious, but her attention was pulled back to the music. “Listen to that guitar.” She gestured toward the stereo with her fork. “That guy’s a genius, isn’t he?”
“Jay Carey?” Adam’s smile had a strange quality. “You think so?”
“Right on. I’d give anything to be able to play like that.” She studied his look of amusement with a slight frown of confusion. “Why? Don’t you like him?”
“I suppose he’s all right.” He laughed under his breath at her outraged expression. “I’m just having you on. Actually, Jay’s my best mate and yes, he’s a genius.”
It took a moment to decipher the meaning of ‘best mate’, but when she did her mouth dropped open in astonishment. “No shit?” She leaned back and stared at him. “Lucky you.”
Adam shrugged and used his knife to cut a large chunk of chicken in half. “I don’t know how lucky I am, but he’s a good bloke.”
“He’s amazing is what he is. I really dig him.” Katie took a bite of her food and chewed without tasting it. “I don’t suppose you could introduce me to him?”
After a hesitation so brief Katie couldn’t be sure it had happened, Adam looked up and smiled. “I suppose I could.” He winked. “If that’s what you really want.”
“Oh, Adam, that would blow my mind. Thank you so much.”
“Blow your mind?” Adam snickered. “Don’t tell him that; it would make him even more arrogant and full of himself than he usually is.” He shook his head in amusement at her excitement. “Look, it’s not going to happen tonight since he’s off with his band, so eat.”
Katie looked down at her plate with surprise, having forgotten it was there. “Oh, yeah. I was hungry, wasn’t I?” She cocked her head to the side and smiled. “You know, you’re not the only lucky one. I am, too, since you’re the first person I met here.”
Adam chuckled, his eyes on his plate. “Luck had nothing to do with it. I saw you coming out of the tube station and almost broke my neck catching up to you before anyone else could.”
“Really?” She cocked a brow. “Why’s that?”
A slow smile full of promise was his answer and Katie started to melt.
“Eat,” he purred, his husky voice low. “You’ll need to keep your strength up.”
Her own smile was full of anticipation. “Thanks for the warning.” She let her eyes roam up and down his body and was gratified to see she affected him the same way he did her. She dropped her eyes back to her plate and murmured, “So will you.”
• • •
After four busy days of painting, furniture shopping and hectoring the telephone company to install her phone line, Katie’s new home was ready for occupation. She waved at the furniture delivery men as they left, then turned to survey her new apartment. No, it was a
flat
. Adam had been coaching her on British words and terms and she was doing her best to incorporate them into her vocabulary so she wouldn’t stand out any more than she already did. Drawing attention to herself was Katie’s least favorite thing; blending into the background suited her just fine.
So she turned and surveyed her new
flat
. Although it was devoid of any personal touches, she still thought it was perfect. The chocolate-brown velvet sofa, the leather armchairs with matching ottomans, and three lamps with clear Lucite bases fit the living space like they were made just to inhabit that particular room. The lamps resided on the floor until she could find the perfect tables for them, but she had all the time in the world to dig through second-hand shops and jumble sales until she found what she wanted.
She almost danced through the kitchen, passing the round table with its matching chairs, down the hall and into her bedroom where she sighed with satisfaction at the sight of her new bed. Throwing her arms wide, she flopped onto the mattress. Even if she had to sleep using her rain jacket as a cover, she was going to stay there that very night. She was eager to end her temporary residence at Adam’s flat for a number of reasons, the least of which was the return of his roommate — no, flatmate — the following day.
The thought of Adam diminished some of her joy. With a heavy sigh, she turned onto her side and pillowed her head on her outstretched arm. If she had known he was going to get so attached to her, she’d never have gotten it on with him. Sure, the sex was great, but that was it as far as she was concerned. She liked Adam, but it was apparent they had little in common besides the ability to trip each other out in bed.
The worst thing, though, was his jealousy. Any male who spoke to her, up to and including the middle-aged postman, received a patented Adam Greene scowl full of implicit warning to back off. Even men she hadn’t met were a threat to him and it was crystal clear his friend Jay Carey fell into that category. After the initial promise to introduce Katie to the guitarist, Adam had evaded all reference to it. Just her playing Wonderkind’s records brought on a bout of sulking that made her want to scream with irritation.
Katie sat up and ran her fingers through her hair. After she’d left the staid, conservative values of Alabama behind for the anything-goes culture of Haight-Ashbury, she’d thrown herself into the free love atmosphere with the enthusiasm of a child turned loose in a roomful of candy. At first, all that unlimited sex was fun, especially since she had a hard time shaking the notion that it was forbidden. It wasn’t long, though, before she realized she wasn’t enjoying it as much as she wanted to. She found herself thinking more and more that it was stupid to get it on with some guy, no matter how groovy he looked, just because he wanted it. And they all wanted it.
Upon her exit from California, she’d promised herself that from that point on she would do things the way she wanted, no matter what anyone else thought. The situation with Adam proved that she wasn’t quite successful at it yet. He’d wanted her, she thought he was beautiful, she put out. Huge mistake.
For a girl whose first eight years of life had been lived with her mother’s constant refrain of
“What will people think?”
, going her own way was tough. Even after her mother’s sudden death in childbirth, Katie had still worried about others’ perceptions of her behavior. Not that she was being observed that much since her social life had all but disappeared when her mother died. Without planned excursions to the country club to swim, or after-school play dates, the children her mother had thought acceptable had faded from her life. Katie didn’t blame her father for her quick slide into ostracism; she knew he loved her, but being left a sixty-seven-year-old widower with an eight-year-old daughter had thrown him for a loop and he’d had no idea how complicated the dance of pre-adolescent relationships could be.
Katie executed a couple of experimental bounces on the new bed and chuckled under her breath. Though he hadn’t said anything, she knew her arrival into the teenage years had scared the hell out of her dad. He’d been cool with letting her take guitar lessons at age ten, but by the time she was fourteen she had wheedled him out of an electric guitar and amp and was making the windows shake with her experiments on the new instrument. It was at that time she started to ignore what everyone else thought, and that freedom — along with the resultant music — had brought her a new awareness of who she really was, apart from her parents and the rigid mores of Birmingham’s elite. The move to Haight-Ashbury was supposed to have been the culmination of all that self-awareness.
Oh, well. Katie sighed and rose from the bed. That hadn’t worked out, and she had made herself a pariah in Birmingham when she wore bell-bottoms made out of the Urquhart tartan to her father’s burial. Her disapproval ratings had gone through the roof with that one, but she had been relieved to realize she honestly didn’t care. She had left all of it behind for a new start in London, only to fuck it up the first week by letting Adam Greene take her to bed so fast. She stared at herself in the new mirror above the chest of drawers and resolved that the next time she ended up in bed with a guy it would be someone she wanted to be with out of the sack, too.
Now that her flat was furnished she could leave Adam’s, and cool it with that situation before it got worse. It was still early, so she had time to stock her space with necessities like food, wine, sheets, towels and a coffee pot. Then she could retrieve her clothes and toiletries from Adam’s and make a clean break.
• • •
Loaded down like a beast of burden, Katie hurried from the tube station to her flat where she could relieve herself of the heavy bags and packages. She started up the front steps and shifted the shopping bags in her arms so she could find the key to her door. As she reached for the purse slung over her shoulder, she felt the bag containing her precious new coffeepot begin to slide from under her elbow.
“Shit!” Frantic, she tried to juggle her other purchases and catch the escapee before it could hit the sidewalk.
“Got it,” said a female voice behind her, and Katie felt the bag lifted from under her arm.
“Thanks!” She turned to see a pair of blue eyes twinkling at her in amusement. The girl’s English Rose complexion was set off by platinum blonde hair that swung close to her chin, and a paisley silk mini-dress set off her Twiggy-like figure. Not a shred of envy marred Katie’s deep appreciation of the way the girl looked. She’d long ago made her peace with the fact that she had way too much in the tits and ass department to wear clothes with such panache, but she couldn’t stop the phantom thought that she’d love to look like this ravishing creature. With a start, she realized she was staring. Self-conscious, she took a quick breath and smiled. “Good reflexes. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem.” A slender white hand held up the bag. “Want me to help you in with all this, love?”
“That’d be great.” Katie dug her key from her purse as her companion held the front door open for her. “Luckily I’m on the ground floor so we don’t have to drag all this upstairs.”
“Ah, you must be my new neighbor.” Bright blue eyes gave her a curious once-over. “I’m Maureen Smith. I live just above you on the first floor.”
“The first … oh!” Katie opened her door and gestured Maureen in before her. “That’s right; Adam told me that the second floor in America is the first floor in England.”
“Adam?” Maureen followed Katie into the kitchen and put the bag on the table. “Adam Greene, he of the lovely hair and beautiful arse?”
Katie laughed. “Nicely put.” She dumped her bags next to the one containing the coffeepot and turned on the fan in the window to dispel some of the heat trapped in the room. “I’m Katie Scott.”
Maureen’s gaze swept the kitchen. “I’ve been wondering who moved in since Oz left.” She grinned and winked at Katie. “Who’d ever have thought it would be a pretty Yank?”
Laughing, Katie began to unpack her bags. “Wanna stay and rap awhile? I know I’ve got some Cokes in here somewhere.”
“Love to, thanks.” Maureen went to the window and put her face close to the fan. “Cor, it’s hot! Where in America are you from?”