Bis Until Fountain Bridge (On Dublin Street 01)
Samantha Young
A Note to Readers
After the publication of On Dublin Street I was not only overwhelmed by the many readers who contacted me to tell me how much they enjoyed Joss and Braden’s story, but also by how many that expressed their love for Ellie and Adam, and requested to read more about them. Until Fountain Bridge is an answer to those requests and a thank you to my readers for their unwavering enthusiasm and support.
Readers should note that the Fountainbridge area of the city is actually spelled as one word but I’ve taken artistic license and separated it into two words for series title continuity. Just thought you should know in case you try to look for it… I don’t want to get anyone lost on the streets of Edinburgh. That would be bad.
Anyhoo, this is Ellie and Adam…
Happy Reading!
Chapter 1
It was always the same when you were looking for something in amongst a big pile of some things—the something you were after was at the bottom of that big pile of some things. I finally dropped the last box on the other side of the room and wiped a streak of sweat from my forehead.
When I’d moved in with Adam three months ago I’d promised him that all the boxes of junk that I put in his spare room would be sorted out and tidied away within a couple of weeks. I’d unfortunately reneged on that promise and wasn’t ashamed to say I was still leaning on my tumor scare to get me out of the admonishment that should have followed. I’d been diagnosed with my benign—and yet still terrifying—brain tumor eight months ago, a diagnosis that not only traumatized my family and friend, Joss, but had kicked Adam, my brother’s best friend, swiftly up the behind. He’d finally admitted to everyone he was in love with me, and we’d hardly spent a day apart since. Although our relationship had changed, we were still us and Adam tried not to treat me like I was made of glass. However, I’d noticed he let me away with things he wouldn’t have before—such as cluttering up his clutter-free, swanky duplex with all my rubbish—and I didn’t know if this was because of the scare or because we were a couple now and he was compromising.
I swooped down on the last box with a grunt of triumph and ripped off the packing tape.
Inside I found exactly what I was looking for and smiled. I’d already upended the box and sent my old diaries cascading across Adam’s hardwood floors before it occurred to me that upending a box of diaries might cause scratches. Wincing, I did this silly little dance over the falling journals as if this would somehow, magically, soften the impact of their rapid descent.
It didn’t.
I dropped to my knees and picked up the books, checking the floors. Nothing. Thank God.
Adam was an architect and that meant he liked his space a certain way, and he liked that space in pristine condition, especially when it cost him a fortune. Hardwood flooring wasn’t cheap. Adam had already changed his life for me, doing a three-sixty from the ultimate player to devoted boyfriend, from bachelor and proud clutter-free homeowner, to doting partner and proud owner of a stylish duplex covered in weird crap his quirky, overly-romantic girlfriend picked up in random places, including charity shops. He’d allowed me to put my stamp in every room, so damaging his floors wasn’t exactly a nice way to pay him back. I kissed the tips of my fingers and pressed them against the floor in a gesture of apology.
“Els, what was that noise? You okay?” Adam’s deep voice could be heard from across the hall. He was in his office working on his and Braden’s current project.
“Uh-huh,” I called back, flipping through the diaries to make sure I had every single one of them. I was so lost in what I was doing I didn’t hear Adam’s footsteps.
“What are you doing?” His voice was suddenly right above me and I jumped, startled, only to lose my balance, falling onto my bottom with an “oof.”
I heard him smother a snort and glared up at him. “I need to get you a bell.”
Ignoring me, Adam crouched down onto his haunches, his eyes taking in the diaries. As always when I studied him I got a little flutter in the pit of my stomach, and my skin tingled.
With his thick, dark hair and great body (honed from daily visits to the gym) Adam was a good-looking guy but the kind of good-looking that immediately transformed to hot when you started to talk to him. He had a toe-curling wicked smile, intelligent dark brown eyes that twinkled when he was interested in what you were saying, and a rich voice that took direct pathways to a woman’s erogenous zones. Those gorgeous eyes of his lifted to smile into mine. “I haven’t seen you with one of these in a while.”
“My diaries?” I nodded, trying to sort them into chronological order. “I stopped writing.”