The Clarke Brothers (Complete Series)

by Lilian Monroe

  “Don’t go,” she whispers to me. “I want to wake up with you here.”

  I manage a smile and nod. I kick off my shoes and lie next to her, feeling her frail body drift off to sleep next to me. I hold her close, stroking her arm up and down until sleep takes me too.

  The next few weeks are rough. Mara is weak, and I worry that she should be under someone’s care. She should have a nurse here, and she shouldn’t be moving as much as she is. I can see her stubbornness though, in the way that she swings her legs over the side of the bed every day, and forces herself to walk up and down Main Street until she looks exhausted. She grits her teeth and tries to hide her pain, but I see it when she thinks I’m not looking. I sleep next to her every night, and wake up next to her every morning.

  On one chilly autumn afternoon, I load up the last of the headboards into my truck and drive over to the McCoy Hotel.

  Mara is waiting for me outside, wearing a big grin on her face. She still has a boot on from the knee down, but she can walk almost normally. Her scars are fading, and she gives me a big wave as I pull up to the hotel.

  “Congratulations, Mr. Clarke,” she calls out to me. “That’s the last of the furniture for the hotel! A few finishing touches and the renovations will be complete!”

  “Better late than never,” I respond as I jump out of the cab and smile to her. She wraps her arms around my neck and plants a big kiss on my lips. I pull away and drag my fingers through her hair, inhaling her sweet perfume and getting lost in her eyes.

  “You’re so beautiful, Mara.”

  Her eyes crinkle as she smiles and she sticks her tongue out. “Even now?”

  “Even now,” I reply with a grin. I rub my nose against hers and she laughs.

  Tim appears behind her and he nods to me. “Looks great, Dominic. Thank you for your work.”

  “No problem at all,” I reply, helping him unload the last headboard. We carry it upstairs as Mara follows us. I take a step back and sigh in satisfaction once it’s installed. Mara slips her hand around my waist and leans her head against my shoulder. I squeeze her against me and she smiles. She looks over to her dad.

  “See, Dad, we don’t need Mom here. The hotel looks better than ever before. We’re already doing 15% better than we were last year at this point in the season!”

  Tim smiles sadly. He puts his arm around his daughter and kisses her temple. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he replies. I can see the pain in his eyes whenever Margaret is mentioned. Since she left, we haven’t heard a word from her. She disappeared with the insurance money, and she hasn’t been back since. She took all their savings, and I had to finish out the contract without being paid.

  Sometimes, Tim stares out through a window and I know he’s thinking of her. It makes my chest ache for him. She took more than just money when she left. She took something from Tim, too.

  Tim shakes his head and puts a smile on his face. Mara pulls away from her dad and nudges him. Tim smiles and pulls something out of his breast pocket. He hands it to me.

  I frown, looking down at the paper. I unfold it and shake my head.

  “For your work,” Tim says. “I know we couldn’t pay you, and I appreciate you finishing the job. You’re a good man, Dominic.”

  “Tim, I can’t accept this,” I say, staring at the agreement for part ownership of the McCoy Hotel. “It’s way too much. You can pay me the rest when you have the money,” I answer, handing him the papers.

  Mara smiles and shakes her head. “I told you he wouldn’t accept,” she answers with a laugh. “Come on, Dominic. It’ll be yours eventually anyways.”

  I glance at her frown. “What are you talking about?”

  She laughs. “When we get married and live happily ever after!” she says. I look from her to Tim and a smile spreads across my face.

  “Are you proposing to me? In front of your dad?”

  “I’d propose in front of the whole world,” she says, wrapping her arms around my waist. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Everything I have is yours too – including this place. You’ve put enough work into it to own part of it.”

  My throat tightens and my eyes start to prickle. I try to swallow as I pull her in tighter to me. Tim smiles at me and nods his head.

  “Welcome to the family, Dominic. I never thought I’d say those words,” he adds with a chuckle.

  “I never thought I’d hear them,” I answer. Mara lifts her chin up and wraps her arms around me a little bit tighter. I dip my lips down to hers and taste that sweet kiss one more time.

  You’re mine, and I’m yours.

  Mara’s voice rings in my ears. I never thought I’d hear those words, either, and I never thought they’d sound so good.

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  Run to Me

  The Clarke Brothers Series: Book 3

  1

  Zoe

  “Good luck tomorrow, monkey.” My heart squeezes. My hand tightens around my cell phone, even though I know that there’s no way I can make it to my daughter’s piano recital. It still makes me feel like a bad mother to miss it.

  “I’m not a monkey, Mom,” Audrey answers with a sigh. “And I’m not small. Could a monkey play piano?”

  “Not as well as you,” I smile. “Alright come on, put your grandmother back on the phone.”

  “Grandma!” Audrey yells straight into the receiver. I pull the phone away from my ear and cringe as she yells. I listen as their phone exchanges hands and smile when I hear Audrey humming in the background.

  “You’ll record her recital for me?” I ask when my mother comes on the phone. My voice is trembling, and I swallow to keep it steady.

  “Every minute of it, Zoe. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m not worried. Just… disappointed. This will be the longest I’ve been away from her since she was born.”

  “Don’t torture yourself,” my mother says. I can almost see her pursing her lips and shaking her head. “You daughter will be fine. She’ll be great, actually. You’ll realize she doesn’t need you at all, and it’ll make you feel happy and heartbroken at the same time. Take it from someone who knows,” she adds ruefully. “Just finish this job and come back. This contract will be sorted out in no time, and everything will be back to normal.”

  As much as I want to fight it, my mother’s platitudes help. Her words are comforting and my shoulders start to relax. I nod.

  As if she can see me nod from the other end of the phone, my mom speaks again. This time her voice is soft, and it sounds like a warm hug.

  “And Zoe?” she asks, letting my name hang in the air.

  I clear my throat. “Yeah, Mom?”

  “Try and enjoy yourself. You’re a beautiful, successful single woman. You have some time for yourself now, for the first time since Mark passed. Make the most of it. We’ll be fine. Won’t we, Audrey?” she adds, slightly louder. I hear Audrey giggle in the background.

  “Of course!” comes my daughter’s voice in the distance

  I smile. “Give her a big hug for me, okay?”

  “I will. Now go. Go to the town bar, have a drink, and relax. I’m your mother and I still get to tell you what to do once in a while.”

  I chuckle and take a deep breath. “Sounds like something I can manage.”

  “Good. I love you, Zoe. This will all be over soon. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  My throat tightens and I nod my head. When I speak, my voice is barely a whisper. “I love you too, Mom. Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. Now go and get yourself a drink!”

  I laugh and we hang up the call. I’m sitting on the edge of my hard hotel bed without moving. I stare at my phone’s blank screen and take a deep breath.

  She’s right. It’s only a couple months, and I already know that Audrey will be fine. If anything, it’s m
e who will suffer from the separation the most. She’s busy with school and soccer and piano, with her friends and with her grandmother. She’ll hardly think about me at all.

  Now me, on the other hand… That’s a different story. When Audrey’s father, my husband, died of cancer when she was two, I felt like my heart would never recover. I still don’t know if it has, and it’s been just over six years. It’s been alright to be alone, because I’ve had her. Now she’s on the other side of the country and I’m kind of freaking out.

  For the hundredth time since I got to my hotel, I look at the dingy room and sigh. I try not to breathe too deeply, because the air in the room is stuffy and smells vaguely of mildew. I get up as the bedsprings squeak, avoiding my reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. I don’t want to be reminded of how old and tired I surely look. Being a single mother with an active job will do that to a person.

  I run my fingers over the file on the desk: my assignment. Or rather, my punishment, as I’ve come to see it. I knew that working for a bureaucratic entity like the government could be difficult, but I never imagined I’d get relegated to the middle of nowhere for trying to show initiative. Now I have to implement my forest fire management systems in a National Park on the opposite side of the country.

  I should probably be flattered. It’s supposed to be an honor to be sent here, since governments are usually so slow to implement new programs. But the fire that happened here in Lang Creek last year shook the entire Parks community, and my boss volunteered me up as a tribute. Or ‘gave me the opportunity of a lifetime,’ as he described it.

  I sigh, shaking my head. Maybe my mom is right. I just need to relax. Tomorrow I drive down to the shitty little town that I’ve been assigned to, and I’ll deal with it then. For now I just need to empty my mind and relax. If I go to the bar and grab a drink, maybe the aching loneliness inside me will go away just a little, and I won’t be worried about what my daughter is doing every minute that I’m away from her.

  I swear I’ve never been a helicopter mom, but being a couple thousand miles away from your only child will do that to a person.

  I slip out the door and get in the elevator. I glance in the lobby bar and keep walking. It’s dark and empty in there, with dated decor and a slight sense of melancholy. Not what I need right now.

  I’m not sure what I do need, but I head down the road toward the strip of shops and bars that I saw on the drive in. Calling it ‘downtown’ is a bit generous. Soon, I can hear music and people as I round the corner. I turn into the first bar I see.

  It’s loud, and dark, and full of people. It’s exactly what I wanted. I slip through the crowd and find an empty stool at the end of the bar. It only takes a few moments before the bartender takes my order.

  “Gin and soda, please,” I say, and he nods. I let my eyes drift across the room and feel my lips curl upwards. Somehow, even now that I’m a grown woman, my mother still knows exactly what I need. I need noise and people and laughter and distractions, so that all the thoughts in my head will be drowned out.

  The bartender drops my drink in front of me and I take my first sip with my eyes closed. As soon as the liquid hits my tongue, my eyes fly open and I put the drink down. He must have emptied half the bottle in this glass. The gin tastes fruity and fresh with that indescribable tangy aftertaste. The bartender chuckles as I stare at my glass.

  “Looked like you needed it,” he grins. “First one’s on me.”

  He’s an older man with a huge salt-and-pepper beard. His eyes are dark, but kind. I nod.

  “Thanks.”

  He grins and turns to another customer.

  Maybe I do need it. I’m starting to regret not looking at myself in the mirror before leaving. If he can tell I’m stressed, I must look like a mess. I comb my fingers through my hair and wipe my fingers under my eyes, checking them for streaks of mascara. Seeing my fingers come back clean, I take a deep breath and take another sip.

  My heartbeat slows down and my eyes relax. I lean my forearms on the bar and let my eyes drift across the room. Something is happening in the corner, like there’s a hum of excitement surrounding something.

  I turn and see a band starting to set up on a tiny stage. It’s more like a step, with barely enough room for the two men to work alongside each other. I lean against the bar, sipping my drink and watching them set up. There are two men setting up the drums and microphones, taking guitars out and testing the sound. The bartender appears beside me and I nod to the band.

  “Who are they?”

  “Them?” he asks, nodding to the band. “They’re the Mad Hatters,” he replies. “Play here every second Saturday of the month. Bring the house down every time.”

  I grunt in acknowledgement and turn back to the band. ‘Bringing the house down’ must have a different meaning here than in the big city. There’s someone new on the step, or the stage, or whatever you’d call it. He’s got his back to me, but something in the way he moves makes my heart jump. He’s standing tall, and his black t-shirt is stretched across his broad back. I can see the outline of his muscles through the thin fabric. He leans over to pull a cable toward the front, and his shirt lifts up to show the waistband of his underwear.

  A blush stains my cheeks.

  Why am I blushing? My eyes widen as he turns toward the front, tapping on the microphone and smiling. My heart jumps as I hear his voice over the speakers. It’s smooth and deep, and his smile makes a couple girls in the crowd yelp.

  “How’s everyone doing tonight?”

  It’s lame and stereotypical. It’s what every rock star and wannabe rock star would say, but it still makes the heat rush toward my thighs. He smiles again and slings his guitar over his shoulder, grabbing it and sliding his fingers over the strings. He strums it once and a few more people yell out.

  Then, they play. They play and sing and shout and just as the barman said, they bring the house down. I sip my drink and watch as he sings the first song. I don’t hear a word. I don’t see anything except him, I don’t hear anything except the sound of his voice.

  2

  Ethan

  I almost stop singing and mess up the whole song when she comes out on the dance floor. I catch myself in time, but it’s a struggle to keep up. She’s dancing like no one is watching, even though everybody in the room is staring at her. She’s laughing, and finally, finally, she turns toward me.

  When she looks at me, it takes all my self-control to keep playing. I’m glad we’ve rehearsed this song for hours, because at this point, playing the guitar is pure muscle memory. She stares at me and my blood turns to fire. Her lips curl upwards and I can feel myself getting hard.

  By the time the first set is done, I have to know who she is. But by the time I put my guitar down she’s already disappeared. My eyes scan the crowd and I frown.

  Bethany Davis comes up to me, just like she does at every show, and flaps her eyelashes at me.

  “Great set, Ethan,” she says. She puts her hands on my forearm and presses her chest against me. “Your voice sounds better every week.”

  “Thanks, Beth,” I reply. I take a step back and look over her shoulder. Beth presses her tits against me a bit more and says something that I don’t hear. My breath catches in my throat.

  There she is.

  She’s at the bar, in the corner. She’s actually sitting in my seat. Didn’t Carl tell her? He knows that I always sit there, and usually he saves the seat for me.

  Not this time. This time, he’s let this gorgeous brunette sit on my stool, and he’s pouring her another drink. By the time I make it through the crowd to her, she’s taking a sip. I watch her lips touch the edge of the glass and my cock pulses.

  I clear my throat and tear my eyes away from her, turning to Carl.

  “What’s this? You’re giving away my seat now?” I ask with a grin, glancing back at the woman before turning to Carl.

  Carl chuckles. “Didn’t think you’d mind,” he replies, putting a beer down in fro
nt of me. I turn to the woman and let my eyes run up and down her body. I can hardly see straight. She’s staring at me with a raised eyebrow and a smile playing in her eyes.

  “This is your seat?” she asks. “Didn’t see your name on it.”

  “It’s sort of an unwritten rule,” I answer, sliding onto the stool next to hers.

  She snorts and takes another sip. “You want me to move?” she asks, flashing a mischievous grin at me. My cock is pulsing between my legs and I smile back.

  “Nah, you can stay,” I answer. I wouldn’t want you to move for anything. “So you’re new in town?”

  “Clearly,” she answers. “Don’t know all the rules yet.”

  “You’ll learn.”

  She smiles again and shakes her head. “What if I don’t like following rules?”

  “That would be surprising.”

  “What, I look nice and innocent to you?”

  “Something like that,” I reply. “Maybe not innocent,” I add. Another smile flashes across her face.

  “No,” she says slowly, running her finger around the edge of her glass. “Maybe not innocent.”

  I can’t think straight. I know I have to play another set in a few minutes, but right now all I can think of is this woman and how badly I want to fuck her. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and I stare at the soft curve of her neck. My eyes drop down to her tits and back up to her face.

  God, she’s hot.

  I clear my throat and shift in my seat, trying to think of something to say. My head is full of cotton and my cock is as hard as steel.

  “You’re a good dancer,” I finally manage to say.

  She laughs. “Thanks. You’re a good singer.”

  I turn to her, not sure if she’s joking or not. She smiles at me, and I know she isn’t. She tilts her head and takes another sip of her drink. I do the same, putting my beer down at the same time as her.