Adam by Jennifer Ashley

Author:Jennifer Ashley [Ashley, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
Publisher: JA / AG Publishing
Published: 2015-03-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Adam’s throat closed up after he made the declaration, not letting him say anything more.

Bailey studied him for a time from her height on the horse’s back, her supple thigh at his eye level. It was all Adam could do not to stroke her instead of the horse.

Bailey slid her feet from the stirrups then swung down from Dodie, a soft puff of dust wafting upward as she landed. She slid the reins over the horse’s head and folded the ends in her hand.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice calm. “You’re not a coward.”

“You bet I am,” Adam said bitterly. “I’m a total fucked-up mess.” Whatever held back his words broke, and they came flowing out.

“I’m sitting on my ass, doing nothing. Mark is calling me, telling me to get back to L.A. now that I’m better, and I’m still here. I told you all the shit I’ve done and walked away from like it was nothing. I’m supposed to show up Kyle at the Fall Festival, but thinking of doing any kind of stunt—hell, even getting up on Dodie and jogging around the ring—scares the shit out of me.” He bunched his fist on the rail¸ but he didn’t hit it. No sense spooking the horse. “I’m finished. It’s over. I had a nice life.”

“Stop it.” Bailey scowled at him. She started to say more, then stopped and motioned to one of the guys who’d worked there forever as he passed the riding ring. The man nodded a greeting to Adam as he climbed through the rails, his stringy body fitting easily between the bars. Bailey handed him Dodie’s reins, and without a word, the man led Dodie out of the ring and back to the barn.

Bailey faced Adam again, but remained inside the ring, the horizontal rails between them. “What’s this about the Fall Festival? You took a dare from Kyle? What are you two—twelve?”

“Just about.” Adam told her a truncated version of his argument with Kyle in the bar’s parking lot and Kyle’s throw down, eliminating the part about their contention over Bailey. “We haven’t worked out the details, but it’s going to be best man wins.” He rested his arm on a rail, pretending not to lean his weight on it.

Bailey studied him with steady eyes, which were brown like the richest chocolate. They’d looked even better last night, half closed in pleasure.

“PTSD,” she said.

Adam snapped himself back to the present. “What?”

“P—T—S—D.” Bailey repeated each letter slowly. “Post-traumatic stress disorder. Or something near enough like it. You were in a bad accident, and you blame yourself for it. You almost died, but you survived, and your friend didn’t. It’s something you have to face.”

“Trust me, I face it.” Adam’s jaw was tight. “I wake up every day and face it. You’d have loved Dawson, Bailey. He was the wildest, most partying guy I ever met, and at the same time, the kindest man I knew.”

His eyes stung. No, this couldn’t happen. Not out here, in front of Bailey, when his brothers could walk by at any time.

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