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Adam’s expression grew serious.“My parents really loved seeing you last night. Lena too,” Adam said, pulling a leather satchel up onto his shoulder. Was Adam really carrying a man bag?

I snickered. I couldn’t help it.

His eyes widened. “Are you laughing at me?”

I pointed to his bag. “You have a man bag. Have you turned metrosexual?”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I love that you get such pleasure out of ridiculing me. I guess it’s better than having you ignore me.”

I smothered my laughter, feeling a little guilty for mocking him. Only a little. “I can go back to ignoring you if that’s easier for you,” I offered with a grin.

“No.” He shook his head. “That wouldn’t make it easier for me.” It was his turn to wink, and I felt warm. Between my goddamn legs.

I was a mess.

“Anyway,” I went on, pressing my thighs together. “It was good to see your parents and Lena. It’s been a long time.”

“You haven’t been to the house since they had the kitchen and patio done, have you?” he asked.

“No. It looked great.” Was this what we were going to talk about? Seriously?

“I think the last time you came over was the weekend that bee-stung you on the lip.” He puffed out his lips for effect. “Kyle called you Big Mama for days.”

That was the weekend before Homecoming. I didn’t want to walk down that memory lane.

“Yeah…” I drew out the word. Adam, realizing his error, fidgeted restlessly.

“I liked seeing you,” he said in a rush, pushing the hair out of his eyes. He needed a haircut. With his hair in his face, he looked like he was still seventeen years old. It set off an uncomfortable pang in my chest.

Then I registered what he said.

I opened my mouth to reply, then closed it again. I didn’t know how to respond. I couldn’t exactly tell him how conflicted seeing him again made me feel. That I hated every second we shared breathing space, but that I also missed him more than I wanted to.

No way I’d ever tell him that.

“Okay…” I let the word drift off awkwardly.

Adam cleared his throat and scratched his chin absently. “So, I was going to call you—”

I cocked my head in surprise. “You were going to call me? What in the hell for?”

Adam smirked. “Can’t a guy call a girl?”

Was he flirting with me? He should know better.

“Not when the guy is you, and the girl is me, Adam.” My statement erased the sly look from his face in a wholly satisfying way.

He cleared his throat again.

“You sound like you’ve got something in your throat. You might want to take a drink of that coffee,” I suggested, enjoying the tinge of pink that colored his cheeks.

“Yeah, well, I was going to call you because I remembered Dad mentioning that you were interested in the bicentennial mural the town is commissioning.”

I crossed my arms over my chest in a defensive gesture. I couldn’t help it. I felt as though I needed all my armor when dealing with Adam.

“It sounds like a great project.” What was he getting at?

He gripped his coffee cup tightly in his hand. “Yeah, well, I don’t know if Dad mentioned that I’m the president of the bicentennial committee.”

“He mentioned it.” I felt like this conversation was akin to pulling teeth. Painful and slow.

“Um, okay, so the thing is we’ve been having a hard time finding an artist. We had a guy out of Pittsburg lined up, but he pulled out at the last minute due to work conflicts. Very unprofessional if you ask me.” Adam frowned in a way that I recognized all too well as him being annoyed.

“Agreed. Very unprofessional.”

Hurry up and get to the point.

“So I don’t know what your plans are for work now that you’re home—”

“I’m not home. I’m here to help Mom sell the house and get settled. That’s it,” I found myself explaining in frustration.

Adam was smirking again as if my reaction tickled him.

Dick.

“Okay, well, while you’re here helping your mom out, I was wondering whether you’d be interested in doing the mural.”

That wasn’t what I expected him to say at all.

“I uh…well, I—” I stuttered and stammered like an idiot.

“It’s a paid gig. Good money too. We’ve been fundraising for this for the past two years. You’d be given a flat commission of 30,000 dollars.”

I almost swallowed my tongue.

“Thirty thousand dollars?” I croaked.

Adam nodded. “It’s a big project. You’d be painting the side of my office building and the entire wall along Minister’s Walk. We expect it to take at least six weeks. You’d have to draft up a sketch, and the committee would need to approve it, of course.”

“Of course,” I rasped.

He started talking quickly, and I could barely take it all in. Something about color schemes and thematic elements.

Huh?

I was stuck on the money. Thirty thousand dollars. I had never made that much money for my artwork before. The publicity it could provide would be a huge boost to my art career. It would be a major feature in my portfolio.

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