Harbour Falls (A Harbour Falls Mystery #1)(71)

“Why? Why did you tell me your secrets, Adam?” I whispered, staring at an especially prominent streak of mud that had dried on the right knee of the sweats. “Did you let me find those things in your desk?”

Adam’s lips brushed the top of my head, and I looked up. “In business,” he said, “sometimes you have to take a calculated chance. Sometimes the potential reward outweighs the risk.”

“This isn’t business, Adam,” I reminded him.

Adam chuckled humorlessly. “You’re right, it’s not. It’s life, it’s love. And it’s not going to be perfect, Maddy. If we’re really going to make this work, you have to accept that I’m not going to do all the right things, nor say all the right things.” He paused. “But I do know I want to make you happy.”

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because you make me feel something I thought I’d never feel again. So I’m willing to take this chance with you.” His voice faltered somewhat, and then he added in a quiet voice, “Even if it means my ruin.”



Adam stilled, and I held his fiery gaze, filled with raw emotion. What I saw touched my heart. Though I was the one physically half-unclothed beneath the quilt, it was Adam who was emotionally naked and, surprisingly, vulnerable. Not even in confessing his secrets had he let me in like he was doing at this moment. I knew with every fiber of my being that Adam was allowing me to see a part of his soul. It was a part of him to which no one else was privy, that much I was certain. He was sharing something bigger than his secrets; he was sharing his true self with me. And, in that moment, whatever doubt I’d been harboring, regarding his true intensions, dissipated.

Reaching out and tracing the perfection of his features with my fingertips, I found myself in awe. He had never appeared more beautiful than right now. “I’m falling in love with you, Adam,” I admitted, my voice soft.

My words were simple and honest. I was no longer asking for anything in return. But Adam still delivered. He flattened my palm against the light stubble on his cheek and simply said, “You may be falling, but I already fell. I love you, Madeleine Fitch.”

My own eyes filled with tears upon hearing those words from his mouth. I felt foolish for ever having questioned his intentions toward me. “I’m sorry,” I said softly, a single tear trailing down my cheek.

Kissing the stray tear away, Adam said, “I haven’t made this easy, I know. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“It’s just been, I don’t know, confusing,” I admitted.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I really am.”

Adam pulled me to him, his lips finding mine. He kissed me, sweetly and tenderly, until I felt him smiling against my mouth. “What?” I asked, pulling back slightly and smiling too.

Adam chuckled. “I was just thinking, since I’m new to this relationship thing, I’m probably going to f*ck up…a lot.”

“New to this relationship thing?” I echoed, confused. “But you were with Chelsea for a long time.”



Adam shook his head. “That was a lifetime ago. And, sure, I thought I loved her at one time, but it was never like this.”

My heart soared, making me giddy with joy. “Well”–I nodded to my mud-splattered T-shirt on the floor, the dirty sweats sticking to my legs, both reminders of the meltdown that had led me to his house—“you can’t do much worse than I’ve already done.”

Adam laughed, brushing my hair back behind my shoulders. “Speaking of which, you probably should get cleaned up, and you have to be starving.” He hesitated, and then gestured in the direction of the kitchen. “I can make something while you shower. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” I responded as Adam helped me to my feet.

Fifteen minutes later, after a hot shower, I padded back down the stairs, clothed in a fresh pair of gray sweats, a white long-sleeved tee, and a black hoodie. A pair of thick, wooly socks completed my comfortable outfit. The one thing I’d decided while in the shower was to ask Adam about the blonde mystery woman. We’d been so honest with one another that I was certain if he knew anything he’d tell me.

“Smells good,” I said, entering the kitchen just as Adam was ladling steaming tomato soup into bowls he’d set out on the table, next to where he’d already plated grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Your gourmet experience awaits, milady,” he teased, gesturing dramatically to the table.

Laughing, I sat down. I took a bite of the sandwich, a sip of the soup. “Delicious,” I gushed as Adam sat down across from me. “But I expect nothing less.”

My tone was light, but Adam must have sensed there was something more on my mind because he said, “What’s up, Maddy?”

I set my spoon down. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

Tensing, I cautioned, “It’s about the case.”

Adam sighed deeply but said quietly, “I’ll answer whatever question you have. If I can, that is.”



This wasn’t an easy question to ask, but I forged ahead. “Um, did you ever hear anything about Chelsea possibly, uh, messing around with a woman? A blonde?”

Far from the reaction I expected, he laughed out loud, clearly finding my question amusing. “A woman?” he said, disbelief in his tone. “Chelsea may have been promiscuous, but she was definitely not into women, Maddy.”