Adrian Cabrera waved his flustered comments aside. “No apology needed. If I had a daughter as beautiful as yours I would have the same protective instinct.”
He probably threw out compliments left and right to woo actresses and models into his bed. But that didn’t stop the electric tingling in her limbs. The men she’d dated before had never called her beautiful. The few times they had complimented her they’d used words like “hot” and, on one memorable occasion, “so doable.”
Her dad cleared his throat. “Would you like to join us inside the house? I’m shorter than you, but I’m sure we can find some dry clothes for you to change into.”
Adrian Cabrera’s smile flashed white in her peripheral vision. “Excellent. And then perhaps we can talk. All three of us.”
Her dad’s lips thinned. “All three of us?”
“Yes.”
Adrian didn’t elaborate. He just maintained that smile that appeared friendly on the surface but carried an edge that said he would accept nothing less than what he wanted.
“Fine.”
Her dad’s voice had lost some of its politeness. He returned Adrian’s smile, his teeth bared like a cornered dog.
“Twenty minutes in the library, then. All three of us.”
Everleigh resisted the urge to roll her eyes at their battle of wills and merely murmured her consent before slipping out through the door. Sunbeams broke through the holes in the clouds hanging overhead, illuminating the raindrops clinging like tiny diamonds to the leaves of the trees. The thunder let out one last, distant grumble that was quickly overridden by the sweet trill of a bluebird.
The storm had only wreaked its havoc for twenty minutes or so. So why, Everleigh asked herself as she hurried up the steps of the back porch, did it feel like so much had changed during that short period of time?
She yanked open the screen door. The hinges shrieked in protest at her rough treatment. She paused, breathed in deeply, and stepped inside.
The kitchen greeted her with its cheery yellow warmth. The floorboards uttered their usual comforting creak as she fetched a glass of lemonade from the fridge. The sweet liquid brought a welcome respite from the humidity left behind by the storm. Unfortunately, it did little to calm the heat still churning in her veins.
Dear God, the man hadn’t even kissed her and she could barely stand up.
As much as she loved her romance books, she’d always rolled her eyes when she’d read about the heroine’s knees growing weak. But, given that she’d nearly sagged against Adrian Cabrera in the barn as her head had spun from the intensity of her yearning, apparently her favorite authors had based their writing on fact.
She gulped down the rest of the lemonade and escaped upstairs before her dad and Adrian walked in. She banished the memory of how strong and protective Adrian had felt against her back, of how nice his arms had felt wrapped around her waist, by hopping into the shower and cranking up the hot water until it nearly scalded her.
After throwing on a pair of jeans and another sweater she dried her hair, and was about to head back downstairs when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror of her vanity table. Dark half-moons stood out under her eyes against the pallor of her skin. Her lips were equally pale and colorless.
With a groan, she grabbed a tube of lip gloss and swiped on a caramel color. It didn’t completely take away the zombie look, but it gave her enough of a confidence-boost to face whatever awaited her downstairs.
They were both already in the library, where a fire was crackling in the hearth. Adrian sat in a comfy chair, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. He clearly did not care for the casual clothing; he sat stiff and straight, despite the plush cushions of the chair that invited him to relax.
Her dad paced by the fire, his hands behind his back.
“Ah, Everleigh.” Dad’s voice shook even as he forced a smile. “Please, sit. Tea and muffins from the Fox Creek Bakery.”
Everleigh grabbed one of the muffins and plopped into the matching chair across from Adrian. She bit into the muffin, savoring the flavors of fresh blueberries and rich butter that melted on her tongue.
She glanced over to see Adrian staring at her. His gaze was unreadable, his face a mask of granite. “Would you like a muffin?” she asked with an arch of her brow.
“No, thank you.”
He looked away. The man certainly knew how to flip from seductive billionaire to cold-hearted executive in the blink of eye.
“All right.” Her dad stopped pacing and stood in front of the fire. Tension radiated from his body.
Against the backlight of the fire, there was no hiding the way his clothes hung off his body. Everleigh swallowed hard and looked away. Some days she could pretend he was recovering from an illness, or that he’d just lost weight. But on days like today there was no denying that Richard Bradford’s clock was running out of time.
“Everleigh, I’m so sorry.”
The despair in her father’s voice dragged her eyes back to him.