Page 37 of For the Record

“Good morning, my dear. You are looking bubbly and full.”

I gently set her on the counter and reached for a mixing bowl, which was one of the first things Adam showed me in his kitchen, as if he knew it was the first thing I would be grabbing this morning.

Taking a half cup measurement, I scooped half of the mixture into the bowl and immediately grabbed the unbleached flour stowed next to the whiskey.

Mid-feeding, Adam opened his back door, walking in with a bare, panting chest, his mix of floral and nautical tattoos staring at me. I think the siren/mermaid one sent a wink my way. My whisk-holding hand jolted to a stop as I appreciated the view in front of me.

Tall, tan skin peppered with art like a doughnut covered in the most decadent sprinkles. He must have left in his T-shirt but gotten overheated on his run, because the almost-see-through white material was now hanging across his neck, leaving nothing but bare exposed chest muscles flashing my way. I said a quick prayer. Thank you, God, for the most recent heat wave coming through our town. I know I complained the other day when my leather seats burned my legs, but I take it all back now.

“Are you making something?” his voice cut in, but that deep, gravelly tone wasn’t enough to yank my gaze from his body. My eyes were stuck on the spattered designs that started around his left pec and reached to the top of his shoulder. A couple of words in cursive here and there, an angel near his belly button, a few others I probably should have known but my brain was doing that thing where it spaced out and everything goes blurry.

“Rachel.” He checked in with a hint of concern.

“Yes?” I answered his left pec. “Discard bagels. Maybe some blue…berry.” My voice drifted away like a fairy in the wind. I might as well have been on another planet.

Adam took a few steps toward me. I took a couple of steps back, not trusting my hands not to reach out and touch. I had seen the man shirtless, of course—nothing too new there—but those times were…different. This felt like I was allowed to stare unashamedly, and believe me, I did.

My back hit the countertop, the handle of the drawer digging into my behind. I leaned back as Adam stepped one foot closer.

My chest fluttered and my breathing kicked up a notch. Was he going to kiss me?

Once again, been there, done that. But still, that was before I had this ring on my finger. Now, if he kissed me, it would mean a whole lot more than two friends who were clearly attracted to each other. This ring made things dangerous. It would change everything if we weren’t careful. Layla was right. This was just like The Lord of the Rings.

He had me backed into a corner, literally, with nowhere to go. His eyes smoldered, dipping down to my pink striped pajamas and back up, a dark cascade of brown and green mixed like the coziest forest. Oh gosh, he was definitely going to kiss me.

I thought so until his eyes shifted above my face and to the cabinet above me.

Looking back down at me, he lowered his brows in confusion before he tilted his chin up. “Need a glass,” he rumbled off in the distance. Or it felt distant, considering all I could do was stare at his chest tattoos.

I cleared my throat and took a step to the left, letting him into the cabinet. He reached for a glass, a real glass and not one of the 1990s collectible Winnie the Pooh glasses that filled my cabinets. He filled up his glass with water and threw it down, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the process.

Right. This was his house. His kitchen and his place to roam shirtless. I was sure he didn’t want me taking over the place and ogling him like this was some kind of reverse Hooters.

I grabbed my mug, thankful I considered the pink one with white flowers to be an essential because the plain black ceramic mugs in Adam’s house didn’t fit with my pj’s or my aesthetic.

“So I was going to see my dad today.” I drank a sip of coffee and took my seat at his island.

Adam nodded, his back turned toward me as he made his own coffee.

“He’ll like that. Are you going to tell him about…”

“Us being married? I figured I should. The ring would confuse him, and the workers will find out soon enough, so it’s best if he heard it from me. If I handle it right, he should be fine.”

Dad liked Adam. Well, more like loved him. He asked about him almost every time I visited and usually several times during my visit if he didn’t remember my answers. He also said he would need to join us for Thanksgiving this year. So as far as sons-in-law go, he was far from the worst guy my dad could get. And there was a chance he wouldn’t remember.

My dad usually remembered past experiences best. He could recall his military days or even my childhood like they were yesterday. His detailed stories about him and my mom on their honeymoon were bittersweet to sit through. But the more recent memories, within the last seven years or so, were where he got the most confused. If I wasn’t careful, I would have to explain Adam being my husband at least ten times.

But then again, this was temporary. Just enough to get us both back on our feet and settled comfortably. A guy like Adam, traveling constantly and busy being what I assumed was Philadelphia’s most eligible bachelor, wasn’t going to want to be tied down forever. And neither was I. Mostly. The whole drinking coffee shirtless in his kitchen had potential to change that.

Adam paused for a moment, taking a sip of his coffee before leaning his back against the countertop. “Do you want me to come with you?”

I considered it for a moment and tossed the idea of going alone or with Adam back and forth before settling. Even if he didn’t stay inside of Dad’s house when I told him, it would be nice knowing there was support outside or in the car.

So I straightened my back and smiled. I wrapped my hands around the warm mug and pulled it close to me, its heat spreading through my fingers and into my chest. “That would be amazing, actually. He likes you a lot, so it might help more than hurt.”

Adam nodded and drank his coffee with me in comfortable silence, basking in the glow of the morning sun peeking through his windows. My first full day here, and yet I was already dreading its end. Already wanting to plant my roots and watch them grow.

When we pulled into the assisted living community, I unbuckled my seat belt and faced Adam. “Remember, he might get confused and lash out. It’s not because he’s mad or doesn’t—”