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Truth?
I hate it when she says that word. Of course, I want the truth, but now I’ve got an uncomfortable twisting in my gut.
Another message from her pops up.99% sure it’s happening. But the producers are really pushing for this other person to be my “sidekick.” She’s the niece or something of one of them. The more you post, the easier it will be for me to sell them on YOU. I need content all day long that includes your cute face! Adam’s wouldn’t hurt either.
I read through Georgia’s text twice. Each time, the heat in my face and body builds. Nepotism was funny when I joked about with Adam, but it’s not funny now. I’m going to lose this opportunity because of a freakin’niece?
I don’t think so.
I need to up my game. And I agree with Georgia. Who wouldn’t want to look at Adam’s face? Or his biceps? And the triceps. His abs though? I’m keeping those to myself. No one needs hordes of women showing up for anin real lifelook. Especially Adam.
I know he’s a private person, so I’ll definitely get his permission before I post anything that includes him. I don’t know how easy getting him to say yes will be, but I’m not letting some niece get in the way of my career or the possibility of staying in Paradise with Adam a little longer.
I’ll definitely step up my posts.I text Georgia.I’ll see what I can do with Adam, too.
The temperature has been creeping down every day since I arrived in Paradise, and now it’s straight up cold. I grab the blanket on the back of my couch and wrap up in it while I think about what to do.
As warmth seeps back into my body, an idea forms in the back of my brain. An idea about Adam making this project even more watchable. Not just because of his looks, but also because of who he is. It might be good for his business, too. Both of his businesses, if I work the construction-worker-by-day, chef-by-night angle.
But that’s not my only angle. If I can document Adam’s gruff and tender sides, along with his front and back sides, I know I’ll get more views and followers. More views and followers will make me and the entire project an easier sell for Georgia.
And that’s good for both Adam and me. If I get more time in Paradise, we’d have time to explore the sparks between us. Is it possible they’ll fizzle and die, leaving me stuck herereallytrying to avoid him? Maybe. But I think I’d like to take a chance we could build something with real heat.
Which means cooling things off for the next seven days until I can be totally open about why I’m here.
I’ll keep everything professional. No more flirting. I will do my part to make this project happen. I will make the sacrifices that need to be made now so that Adam and I have a chance to be together later.
I pull up the notes app on my phone and make a list of my content ideas. By the time I finish, my stomach is growling. My first thought is that I could grab something at The Garden of Eatin’, but I quickly shoo that thought aside. Sure, it’s the best food in town and there’s always live music, but I AM MAKING SACRIFICES.
Grumpy Adam on guitar, growling out lyrics likewild with desireandmake you feel my loveis irresistible. There would be flirting. There would be excuses to stand close enough to breathe in the leather and wood shavings he always smells like. There would be made-up reasons to touch him.
So, I eat cereal for dinner—Wheat Chex. Because I’m a grownup, and I have willpower. Then I go to bed with my stomach still growling and my ears straining to hear any sounds of singing coming from across the street.
The next morning, I wake to the sun peeking through my bedroom window. I roll out of bed, intending to go to the kitchen. Instead, I make a detour to my office for a look out the window to see if Adam has left for the day. I’m just in time to see him back his truck out of the driveway. His arm is slung over his seat and he’s looking over his shoulder, so he doesn’t see me. But I watch him drive away until he’s barely visible.
Chills move up my arms as thoughts of nail guns and Adam’s warm breath on my neck run wild in my head. But that’s not why I decide I should go to the work site. Adam may need my help again today. That’s why I should go.
If he doesn’t need me, it’s a beautiful day, warm enough for short sleeves but chilly enough to feel like fall. The light will be perfect for making a few videos. So, obviously, I have to go. Sacrificing shouldn’t extend to doing anything that might hurt Georgia’s chances of getting her project approved. Right?
I shower and get ready at record speed—I don’t want to lose the good light—then swing by Britta’s for breakfast and a good cup of coffee. The same group who is there every morning is there again, but after grabbing my order—including a coffee for Adam—I wave to Britta and Zach and hustle for the door.
I almost make it to my truck before Lynette corners me. Thirty seconds into her rant about alien probes happening in Fish Haven, I not-so-politely edge my way around her.
I’m not disappointed when I get to the house and see two other trucks besides Adam’s there. Really, I’m not. More help means more progress, more progress means more content, and more content means more projects in Paradise. Hopefully.
Sounds of sawing, hammering, and Guns n’ Roses fill the air, and no one notices me watching the work. Blaine looks sober today, working his way across a beam with two by fours balanced on his shoulder. Another guy who must be Hector nods to the beat of the music while nailing cross beams in place. Adam works alongside him, growlingSweet Child O’ Minewith Axl.
And be still my heart, when the song ends, and he takes off his hard hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead. His pale blue t-shirt with the AT Home Construction logo on the back hugs him in all the right places, and I would do Georgia a huge disservice if I didn’t get some video of him.
So, I set down both our coffees and take out my phone. I get thirty seconds of Adam turning down the music to give Blaine and Hector instructions. When he lifts his arm, I zoom in on the logo on his shirt. Is it my fault the camera also emphasizes the sharp angles of his shoulder blades and defined waist?
Blaine says something I can’t hear and points in my direction. Adam turns and his lip pulls into a half-smile.
“Five!” he yells to the guys. “Only five. I mean it.”
Then he walks to me, tucking his hard hat under his arm and pulling off his gloves. “I didn’t know if I’d see you today.”
“I wanted to make sure you didn’t need my expertise again today.” I bend down to get our coffee and hold Adam’s out to him. “I brought you a coffee.”
