Best Friend's Ex Box Set

"Well, that was definitely an error in judgment," he chuckled. "But not dangerous in the way you're implying."

"Has anyone called a tow truck?" I said changing the subject. The talk I wanted to have with Verity would have to wait until we could get the English man out of our house. "Or an ambulance? You're obviously hurt, Mr. Wallace."

"Oh, I think it's just some bumps and bruises," he said waving me off. "I would have called a tow truck, but my phone got smashed."

"One of my sisters could have walked down to the phone and called," I said as I tried to maintain a neutral expression. It wasn't easy while this handsome stranger flashed me a smile that both irritated me and threatened to melt my icy defense. "In fact, I'll go do that now."

"No, no, it's not necessary," Adam said as he sat down to put his shoes on. He winced as he bent over and then stayed perfectly still for a few moments before bending further.

"Mr. Wallace, you're obviously hurt and in pain," I said as I moved toward him and knelt to help him with his shoes. His only response was to raise his gaze from the floor and when he did, I gasped. His face was etched with pain, but he still tried to smile at me. I moved his shoes out of the way and gently pushed him backwards on to the couch. "Lay back and rest. I'm going to go down to the corner and call an ambulance."

"Please don't," he said quietly. "I'm okay, really. I don't think anything is broken. Besides, it's just some bumps and bruises, nothing compared to what you and your family are going through. "

I bit my lip and looked away. The pain of my parents' death had barely become bearable, and to have this handsome man poking at the fresh wound was almost more than I could take.

"So, why are you here, Mr. Wallace?" I said trying to hide the shakiness in my voice.

"Look, it's a long story, and one that I'm sure you'll have very little interest in, but I really don't think we need to involve the police," he said. "And can you please stop calling me Mr. Wallace? That's my father's name, not mine. I'm Adam."

"Fine, Adam," I said putting my hands on my hips. "Tell me what your story is."

"Grace," Verity interrupted. "Let me take care of him before you grill him about his life story."

"Verity, take Danny and go to bed," I said more harshly than I intended. I was wary of Adam, but there was something in his expression that told me he wasn't out to do us harm. "I'll tend to him tonight and you can take over in the morning."

Danny signed his disappointment at being excluded from the interesting grown-up conversation, and I repeated that it was past his bedtime. He protested by telling me he was old enough to make his own decisions, and I reminded him that I was in charge of the family now that Mamm and Dat were gone and asked if he would have disobeyed them. He shot me an injured look as his shoulders slumped and he gave in slowly climbing the stairs. Verity quickly followed, casting one last worried glance over her shoulder.

Once my siblings were out of the room, I turned my attention back to the injured man on the couch only to find that he'd lain back down and fallen soundly asleep. For a moment, I wondered if he'd passed out from the pain, but when he began to snore, I pulled the quilt up over him and silently left the room.

There would be plenty of time to find out Adam Wallace's story in the morning.

Chapter Fourteen

Adam

I woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon and coffee, murmured conversation in the next room and a distant buzzing that sounded like a low flying plane somewhere far in the distance, or maybe it was a housefly trapped indoors. I rubbed my eyes and winced as my fingers hit what I imagined was a rather large bruise. I tried to remember where I was and how I'd gotten here. It wasn't the first time I'd woken up in a strange place, but it was the first time I hadn't been drunk when I'd fallen passed out. I rolled over and groaned as the pain shot through my body, and the memory of how I'd gotten here suddenly came rushing in.

"Good morning, Adam," a voice said from the doorway. I turned to find the beautiful, but stern blonde woman who'd arrived home late the night before and read her siblings the riot act about taking in a stranger.

"Good morning..." I trailed off trying to remember her name. The buzzing grew a little louder and I looked around the room to see where it was coming from.

"Grace," she said. "My name is Grace Miller. And in case you don't remember, you crashed your car into the ditch across the street from my home yesterday and my sisters, Verity and Honor, took you in."

"Thank you, Grace," I said as I gingerly moved my arm so that I could push myself up into a sitting position and the buzzing abated a bit. Maybe a crop duster? I wanted to ask Grace, but when I realized she was watching me closely, I tried to hide the amount of pain I was feeling. I looked up questioningly as she crossed the room holding a small cup in her outstretched hand.

"Arnica montana," she said. "It's a homeopathic remedy that will help with the bruises and the pain. You're going to feel a lot worse today then you did yesterday."

"You're not trying to poison me, are you?" I joked as I took the cup from her hand and looked down into it. There were several, tiny, white pellets in it.

"Adam, if I'd wanted to poison you, I'd have done it last night," she said dryly. "No, I'm not trying to harm you, I'm trying to help you since you're too stubborn to seek medical attention. Tip the cup up and let the pellets sit on your tongue. Don't chew them, let them dissolve."

"Look, it's not that I'm opposed to seeking help," I said as I followed her instructions and then sat waiting for the pellets to dissolve.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

Not wanting to disturb the medicine, I simply nodded. She nodded and turned back toward the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "As soon as the pellets have dissolved, come into the kitchen and we'll get you some breakfast."

I waited until I was sure everything in my mouth was gone and then slowly rose from the couch and followed Grace into the kitchen. Danny was setting the table as Grace and her sisters moved around one another preparing the meal. It was a graceful ballet performed by the three women in shapeless dresses wearing white caps. None of them spoke, only occasionally gesturing toward Danny who nodded in acknowledgment and then did whatever they must have instructed him to do.