Chapter 9

When Grace had texted her to tell her brother was coming by, Joy had imagined slamming her door in his face and laughing maniacally at his shocked expression. Maybe after she’d tossed her water in his face, or stepped on his foot, or kicked him in the shins. Something completely immature yet wholly satisfying. Joy hadn’t kicked anyone in the shins since Marcus Terrell in fifth grade, and damn if she didn’t want to see the same look of shock on Adam’s face as Marcus’s.

But all of her plans of shin-kicking went out the window when he’d shown up, looking delicious and apologetic. He’d even brought her wine. He’d seemed to be trying, and damn if she wasn’t easy for a man who tried to right his wrongs. Maybe that made her weak.

As Adam kissed her, though, Joy couldn’t find it in herself to care.

He kissed her like a man in a desert who just found an oasis, a man desperate for companionship, a man who wanted her more than any man had ever wanted her in the history of the universe. Joy had