Passion's Crossfire

Chapter 70

Adam

My fingers dance over the keyboard, the rhythmic clacking the only sound in the quiet lake house. As I immerse myself in the work on the screen, the weight of the past days lingers, a persistent undertow beneath the surface of normalcy. I glance at the clock; Mallory is still resting, and I find solace in the knowledge that she's here, safe.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes, breaking the quiet concentration. I glance at the screen; it's my father. With a quick swipe, I answer the call. "Hey, Dad."

"Good morning, son. How are you and Mallory doing?" My father's voice, warm and familiar, filters through the phone.

"She's good, resting. I'm okay too."

"Good, good. I'm glad you found her and she's safe now," he says, relief coloring his words. There's a pause, and then he adds, "James left about an hour ago to do some shopping. He should be there in a couple of hours."

"Thanks, Dad," I reply, gratitude filling my voice.

"Call me if you need anything else, Adam," he insists before we hang up.

I close the call and pinch my eyes closed, taking a moment to collect myself. Mallory's birthday is in two days, a fact that lingers in the back of my mind. I wanted to celebrate it differently, make it special for her. Instead, she's here, recuperating from the nightmare that unfolded. I shake my head, pushing away the regret that threatens to surface.

I should be grateful she's back, I remind myself. She could have spent her birthday in that hole, tormented by fear and uncertainty. The least I can do is make her birthday something she'll remember for joy, not for the horrors she endured.

With a determined breath, I refocus on work, resolving to plan something special for Mallory's birthday. The laptop screen glows with spreadsheets and emails, but my mind is already conjuring ideas to bring a smile to Mallory's face. I'll make sure she knows she's cherished and celebrated, not just on her birthday but every day we have together.

As the hours pass, the front door opens, and James enters with bags in tow. "Master Adam," he nods in greeting.

"James," I acknowledge, standing up to assist with the bags. Together, we carry them to the kitchen counter. "Let me help you with that," I offer, following him back to the car to unload the rest.

As we begin putting away groceries, James insists, "Master Adam, your help was more than enough. I can take it from here."

Shaking my head, I reply, "You came all this way, James. It's the least I can do."

We continue putting away the groceries, creating order in the kitchen. Footsteps on the staircase draw my attention, and I turn to see Mallory descending. A warm smile graces her lips, but it falters, and she blushes when she notices James. She retreats upstairs, tugging at the shirt she's wearing.

I turn to James. "Where are the clothes you bought for us?"

James points to some bags, and I go through them, finding the ones with Mallory's clothes. Gathering them in my arms, I head upstairs to where Mallory is. As I reach our room, I knock gently before entering.

"Hey," I say, offering her the bags. "James bought some clothes for us."

Mallory looks up, confusion evident in her eyes. "Who the hell is James?" she asks, her tone laced with bewilderment.

I sigh, realizing I hadn't properly introduced her to the various elements of my life. "James is, um, my family's... butler."

Her eyes widen, clearly taken aback. "What?"

"Yeah," I admit, running a hand through my hair. "I asked my father to send him with groceries and clothes. He's been with our family for years."

Mallory processes this information, her gaze shifting to the bags in my hands. I hand them over, and she looks inside, finding a selection of clothes. "There are more downstairs," I add, trying to gauge her reaction.

For a moment, Mallory is speechless, and a flicker of concern crosses my mind. Perhaps I've done too much, too soon. However, she looks up, her eyes meeting mine. "Thank you," she says sincerely, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I'll get dressed and head downstairs."

I return the smile, relieved that my intentions were well-received. Before leaving the room, I lean in and kiss her forehead. "Take your time," I assure her. "I'll be downstairs."

I descend the staircase, my footsteps echoing in the quiet lake house. As I reach the bottom, I find James finishing up putting away the last of the groceries. He glances up, acknowledging me with a nod.

"I'll be out of your way soon, Master Adam," James says, his efficient manner evident in every move.

Waving him off, I reply, "Take your time, James. It's no problem."

Just as I finish speaking, Mallory descends the stairs, her presence adding a warmth to the room. I approach her, taking her hand in mine. "Mallory, this is James. James, meet Mallory."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Mallory," James says with a polite nod.

Mallory smiles, "Likewise, James."

As James finishes up, he bids us goodbye and heads toward the door. "I'll walk you to your car," I offer, following him outside.

Once we're at the car, I lower my voice. "James, do me a favor. Can you, uh, hide from my mother that I'm here with someone?"

James gives me a knowing look. "Master Adam, your father has already instructed me on this matter. Don't worry."

"Thank you, James," I say, genuinely grateful for his understanding.

James gets into his car, and as he drives away, I return to the lake house. Mallory, with a playful glint in her eyes, asks, "So, your family has a butler?"

I chuckle, "Yes, we do."

Mallory playfully rolls her eyes. "Ugh, rich people. It's not that hard taking care of a house, you know."

I raise an eyebrow, teasingly responding, "A house? Yeah, not that hard. A mansion, though?"

Her jaw drops in exaggerated surprise, and I chuckle at her reaction. "Mansion?" she stammers.

I shrug, a wry smile playing on my lips. "Never liked it, to be honest. Always thought it was way too big for a family of three."

Mallory mocks sympathy, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "Poor baby."

I can't help but smirk at her teasing. Swiftly, I grab her by the waist and pull her close, reveling in the delightful squeal that escapes her.

Whispering in her ear, I say, "Our house will be better, you'll see. Smaller, but big enough for us and our children."

Her eyes widen at the unexpected declaration, and she stutters, "You... you've thought about it?"

I meet her gaze with a reassuring smile. "I only think about our future together." I say, closing the distance between us, I press my lips to hers.