The Mistresses. Katherine Garbera
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Adam in her house. He was the missing piece of the puzzle that she’d created of a picture-perfect life. He’d been the fantasy in her head for a long time, the man who’d make this little empty house feel more like home—and now he was here.
Her fear was that she only liked him because he did fill the hole in her life. That she wasn’t infatuated with a real man. It was complicated and she wanted it to be simple. For a relationship with Adam to be easier than it was.
She’d wasted some time when she’d gotten home, writing down her latest fantasy about him. In her dream relationship, he was completely enthralled with her and her body.
She finished getting ready and then went to find Adam. To her dismay, he was in her home office, sitting at her desk. She knew that her handwritten notes on “Adam’s Mistress” were there. The printed copy of her story was still at work, but she’d been editing a handwritten version of it earlier that day, adding in details from the night at his home.
She noticed he was studying something on her desk. For a second, she couldn’t breathe. She’d die if he’d found that story. In fact, tomorrow she was going to shred the thing at work and destroy this copy.
“You like Viper?” he asked.
For a minute it was as if he were speaking a different language. Then she realized her mouse pad featured the heavy metal alternative band.
“Yes. I do. Their music is different.”
“You know they’re one of my artists. Actually, the first band I signed.”
“I did know that,” she said. She’d checked them out originally because she knew that Adam liked them.
“I can get you an autograph,” he said, with one of those silly grins of his.
“Really. Then maybe I’ll like you.”
He laughed, a full-bodied one that made her feel good. “All the girls say that, but as soon as they get their autograph …”
“I’m not like other girls, Adam.”
He pushed to his feet and came around the front of her desk. It was a cheap one that she’d gotten at a scratch-and-dent sale. He leaned against the front of it, legs crossed at the ankles, arms resting on either side of his hips.
“I know that.”
“Why are you here? I mean really. I’m not your usual type of date.”
She’d tried not to think about him. Had focused on the school and keeping it going. But in the back of her mind she’d been looking for excuses to keep him at arm’s length. Not because she didn’t want him closer but because she feared what would happen if she did and it turned out he wasn’t as interested in her.
“I think we’ve discussed this before.”
She envied him his ease and self-confidence in this situation. She’d handled herself with aplomb when she’d had to confront two teachers having sex in a classroom but this was simply beyond the scope of her experience. Adam was beyond that scope, and she hoped he’d never realize by how much.
“I think you’re right, but I still don’t get it. It seems like this is some sort of dream and that I’m going to wake up and you’ll still be treating me like a stranger.”
“Am I your dream man?” he asked.
She slid her gaze down his body. Dressed in an oxford shirt with the collar open and a pair of faded, tight jeans, he looked like every woman’s dream man. But it was way more than just his sexy, muscular body that made him her fantasy.
She shrugged, afraid of saying something and revealing too much to him. Afraid of increasing the very real chance that he might see her as a pathetic woman who’d somehow gotten hold of him and wouldn’t let go. Afraid that he’d realize she wasn’t the kind of woman who could hold his attention.
“Am I, Grace?” he asked, pushing away from the desk and walking toward her.
“Yes.”
“For how long?” he asked.
“Why? Why does that matter?”
“Because I want to know every one of your secrets,” he said, stopping with just an inch of space between them.
He was in her personal space but she didn’t care. She wanted him closer. It had been two long weeks since she’d felt his arms around her, and it had been too easy to convince herself that she’d simply dreamed the way he’d felt in her arms.
“My secrets?” He could never know her secrets. She didn’t like the fact that he’d even guessed that there was more to her than what she presented to the people she worked with.
But at the same time, that was what drew her even closer to him. She liked that he was the only man who saw beyond her facade. And if there was some safe way to let him in and still protect her tender heart, she’d do it.
“Yes, Gracie, your secrets,” he said. He cupped her jaw and tipped her head back, his fingers supporting the back of her neck as he kissed her.
“Do you have secrets, Adam?” she whispered.
“We all do.”
She clenched her hands together and stood still in his embrace. She didn’t know if she trusted him enough. If she’d ever trust him enough—because even after spending time in his arms, she still didn’t think he was real. He was still just a fantasy, and if they were ever going to get to a point of trust she was going to have to let him be real.
And the real man was complicated. He had problems and issues just like she did. He moved on. He always moved on. What kind of secrets did he have that he was always searching for something but never finding it?
She realized in that instant with his mouth on hers and his hand on her neck that she wanted to be the keeper of his secrets. That she wanted to find a way to understand the complex man who had been her fantasy for too long and that she now wanted to be her reality.
But he couldn’t be as long as their relationship remained hidden. She knew what happened to secrets like this. Forbidden desires were forbidden for a reason. A relationship that started in lies would never survive.
She had the uneasy feeling that she was going to be forced to choose between the safe place she’d made for herself at Tremmel-Bowen and Adam. The tightening in her gut told her the day was closer than she wanted it to be.
Seven
“I don’t know why we have to hide from the world,” he said.
He wouldn’t understand. But she wasn’t one of the glamorous women he was always seen with. Everyone would take one look at them and know she wasn’t meant to be on his arm.
“Please, Adam. I don’t want to share what we have found together. They’ll think I’m your mistress.” And she was, wasn’t she?
“Okay, Grace. For you.”
The voices moved on down the hallway and he stared down at her. She knew that something had changed between them in those few moments.
Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace
Adam had never enjoyed a hockey game more. Though Grace knew little about the sport, she learned quickly. Normally he would have been annoyed but wasn’t surprised to find that with Grace he wasn’t.
They were sitting alone in the luxury box that Adam shared. The box had a wet bar staffed by an arena worker plus two TV monitors so they wouldn’t miss any of the action they might not catch from the bird’s-eye view through the huge bay window that overlooked the arena. Adam had asked that one TV be tuned to CNN so he could keep track of Viper lead singer Stevie Taylor, who was Larry King’s guest for the evening.
“I’ve never really gotten into professional