Page 10 of Adoring Fletcher
Adam was serving dinner when I reached the kitchen. Potato soup, garlic cheese biscuits and kielbasa sausage. My mouth watered at the sight.
“Oh my god, it looks amazing,” I said without thinking.
Adam chuckled softly. “Dig in.”
We were halfway through eating when he spoke again. “So. How long have you been homeless, if you don’t mind me asking?”
The question hit hard.
I froze, swallowing the lump of food suddenly stuck in my throat. I glanced up at him, then looked away, chugging a couple of gulps of water.
“Eight months,” I whispered. “Since I aged out of the orphanage.”
I didn’t know what I expected—judgment, pity, maybe indifference?—but I didn’t expect the flash of compassion that crossed Adam’s handsome face.
“I survived on the streets by joining a street pack. A gang led by an Alpha who offered protection in exchange for…favors.” My voice cracked. “The same Alpha who destroyed your home and left me to take the fall.”
Adam let out a quiet, “Damn.”
I rubbed at my temple. Today felt like it had lasted a lifetime. “I told the police where their hideout is. I can never go back. If Jacks finds me…” I exhaled shakily. “He’ll probably kill me.”
Adam’s voice softened. “You don’t need to worry. You’re safe here, I promise. And if they try anything, I’ll press charges.”
I looked up at him. His golden eyes were steady, warm. He meant it.
A small, tentative smile tugged at my lips.
He smiled back. “Would you like some more? I made plenty.”
“Please,” I said quietly, a strange, unfamiliar feeling blooming in my chest.
Relief.
Maybe, just maybe, my life was starting to turn around.
6
FLETCHER
Over the next few weeks,I worked for Adam, doing everything from housework to mowing the lawn, trimming hedges, painting, and whatever else he needed.
Anything Adam wanted done, I did. And if I didn’t know how to do it? I figured it out. I was a quick learner, after all.
I was thankful to the Alpha for taking me in. Beyond thankful.
Not only had Adam given me a safe place to sleep and a roof over my head, but he made sure I got three square meals a day. I was gaining weight, filling out, no longer so bony and weak. The outdoor work was making me stronger too.
When I’d first accepted Adam’s offer, I thought for sure that at some point he’d demand sex as part of the deal. But he hadn’t. Adam had been nothing but kind and congenial, which, honestly? Was kind of disappointing because Adam was sexy as hell.
Did that make me a bad person? Probably, but oh well. It was better that we kept things strictly business.
On a sunny August afternoon, I was on my knees in the flower beds, yanking out weeds by their roots. It was nearly 95degrees and hot as hell. Sweat dripped down my face in rivulets, soaking my hair. I tugged at my shirt collar, fanning myself.
Finally, I yanked the t-shirt off altogether, using it to mop my face. The sun beat down on my bare back, but I kept working.
I didn’t hear Adam approach until he was suddenly right there, a glass of ice-cold lemonade in hand.
“Hey,” he said. “Working hard?”
