Defend

Home > Romance > Defend > Page 15
Defend Page 15

by Lindsay Paige


  “Is that a real question? Tell me whatever you want.”

  First, I finish off my hot chocolate and set my mug down on the counter next to me. Doing so makes Brent set his down as well. I wish I could slip this into conversation as easily as Brent did, but I had to go and put myself in this position. Brent rests his hands on my hips, patiently waiting.

  I bring my arms up to wrap around his neck and whisper in his ear, “I love you.”

  Brent kisses my cheek and then drops his head so his forehead rests on my shoulder. That’s not exactly the reaction I thought I’d get. It doesn’t seem all that positive. He takes a deep breath before looking at me. We’re nose to nose and those green eyes sear into me, stealing my breath. He looks overcome with emotion. Brent, who is always on top of his emotions, even when pissed, at least as far as I’ve seen, looks like I just emotionally knocked him on his ass.

  “Do you know what’s ridiculous? The fact that since I first saw you I wanted to get to know you and I felt a little helpless about it. Like I knew I didn’t have a choice. Then, I got to know you, your dreams, your troubles, and,” he laughs, “I almost have this crazy urge to abduct you. Keep you all to myself so you can do whatever you want without anyone else tearing you down in the process.” He kisses the corner of my mouth, sending my already out of control heartbeat soaring higher.

  “And then, I fall in love with you. That is a wonder in and of itself. Not that I couldn’t, but that I was lucky enough to have that pleasure. My life has been pretty good. However, being with you makes me excited and happy in a way I haven’t been in a long time. Hearing you love me too? Honey, you have no idea what that does to me. Hell, I’m not even sure I know exactly what’s going on inside of here.” He places a hand over his heart. He opens his mouth as if he has more to say, but no words come.

  Brent eliminates the space between our mouths and kisses me like I’ve never been kissed before. My hands cling to his shoulders for stability. He kisses me, harder and harder, leaning into me more and more until the back of my head touches the cabinet and my back aches a little from the counter cutting into it. My leg lifts up with the need to wrap around him and hold him close. Brent grabs me by the back of my thighs and hoists me onto the countertop, stepping between my parted legs.

  “Whoa. No makeout sessions in the kitchen,” Gregory says, causing Brent to barely pull away. “What did you do? Propose and she say yes or something?”

  “No, but maybe we’ll get married on the cruise.” His smile is small and I can’t tell if he’s teasing or not.

  “You can do that?”

  Brent grins and kisses me again with even more fervor than before. I vaguely hear Gregory groan and the fridge door closing as my senses hone in on Brent and only Brent. My nails dig into his shoulders. I sigh with displeasure as he pulls away; he even walks away from me! He goes over to the refrigerator and grabs a carton of ice cream and a spoon.

  “What was that last kiss for?” I ask.

  “Because of your answer about getting married.”

  I frown. “What’s so special about my answer?”

  Brent leans against the counter next to me. He grins as he scoops up ice cream. “Because you didn’t say we wouldn’t get married on the cruise. You asked if it was possible, which tells me that if I did ask you to marry me, you’d say yes.”

  “Oh, come on! That is not what my answer says! I was surprised you can get married on a cruise, that’s all.”

  He shrugs. “I actually don’t know if you can or can’t. Haven’t ever thought about it or tried it. And don’t lie; you’d say yes.”

  I roll my eyes, opting not to say anything. Speaking would be dangerous. If I say yes, then he might think I’m ready for marriage. If I say no, then he might be hurt and think I’ll never be ready for marriage or that I don’t want to ever get married. Either way, now is not the time to discuss it. Instead, I ask, “You going to share your ice cream with me or what?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He scoops up a spoonful and feeds it to me. He takes a bite for himself and then leans over to kiss my neck, assaulting me with coldness that sends shivers down my spine. The ice cream doesn’t feel nearly as good as when his tongue takes over. “Let me know when you’re ready for bed.”

  “We can go now.”

  He tosses the spoon over his shoulder and it clanks into the sink. Brent stalks over to the refrigerator to put the ice cream back in its place. Then, he turns and faces me with one eyebrow raised. That’s all it takes for me to hop down off the counter and follow him up to his room.

  “When we’re not together and I’m spending my nights at work, are you at home or here?” Jamie asks.

  It’s Wednesday and we’re at the shop because I wanted to get this car fixed by tomorrow, but I also wanted to see her since she didn’t have to work tonight. Rain pounds on the roof, sounding angry and insistent. She’s cleared herself a small space on a nearby table, laid a towel on it, and is over there working on schoolwork. Apparently, she’s also thinking about my working habits.

  “Are you trying to figure out if you’ve cured me of my workaholic ways?”

  She glances over her shoulder at me. “I don’t have to be the cure. I just want to know if you’re working less. I know Kayla was concerned, and you admitted yourself you are here if you don’t want to be home.”

  “You told me I need to work on the art of doing nothing. I’ve been at the house more than here. Do you want to call my brothers?” I tease.

  She turns back to her work. “No, I trust you. Do you miss it?”

  Hmm. Do I? “A little,” I admit. “Not as much as I thought I would. But I have you to keep me busy and there’s no sense in worrying everyone.”

  I hear her tsk a few times. “Trading one addiction for another.” I can imagine the smile on her face.

  “And you are much better, hon.”

  She laughs. “Quit talking to me. I’m trying to work.”

  “This is probably going to take longer than I thought. Are you hungry? We can go grab something now.”

  “Not yet. Now, ssh.”

  I smile and leave her be, but a minute or so later, we hear doors closing outside.

  “Are you expecting someone, Brent?”

  “No. We’re officially closed. Stay right there.” I wipe my hands and walk to the door over by the receptionist’s desk just as there comes a knock. When I round the corner and look through the glass, I can’t believe my eyes. “Ah, Jamie, might want to get over here.”

  “Why? Who is it?” she asks as her chair scrapes against the concrete.

  I unlock the door and open it. “Hello, Mrs. Alexander.” I nod to her and then to Jamie’s father. “Mr. Alexander. I’d shake your hand, but,” I hold my hands up, “they aren’t the cleanest right now. Come on in.” Now isn’t the time to be mean and make them stand in the rain, even with their umbrella.

  Jamie comes to stand next to me once I’ve closed the door behind them. “What are y’all doing here?” she asks, clearly as confused as I am. “How did you know where to find me?”

  “Michelle said you were here and since Brent told her the name of his business that night, we looked up the address. You said we had to apologize in person, so here we are.”

  Jamie’s talked to her parents? She hadn’t mentioned it to me. “Mother, I said it had to be verbal. You could’ve called.”

  “Well, we’re here. Get over it,” Mr. Alexander gruffly tells her. I’m completely positive he doesn’t want to be here.

  Mrs. Alexander elbows him in the stomach, but he doesn’t acknowledge her or the hit to the gut. “Is there some place we can sit down?”

  “Yeah, we can go to my office.” I lead the way with the three of them following me. They couldn’t have actually come all this way just to apologize to us. I don’t believe it. Not to mention, the weather isn’t the best and it’s the evening. They could’ve waited until the weekend, or as Jamie said, called.

  Her parents forgo the couch and take
the two chairs across from my desk. Jamie hesitates for a minute before I grab her hand and lead her to the chair behind my desk. I like that there’s a barrier between us and that this is happening where I’m most comfortable. I decide to stand behind Jamie, my hands resting on the top of the chair.

  “Well?” I ask when they don’t speak quick enough for me. Jamie gives me a look of warning, but I dismiss it. Someone had to start the conversation.

  “Right,” Mrs. Alexander begins. “We’ve done some thinking and Michelle has explained some things to us. We know we’re a little harder on you, Jamie.”

  “A little?” she retorts skeptically.

  Mrs. Alexander continues as if Jamie hadn’t spoken at all. “But it’s because we feel as if you need that extra push. You’ve always needed a lot of help and some nudging to succeed, even when you were a little girl.”

  “Please don’t go there.” Just like that, the anger slides out of Jamie’s voice and is replaced with a beg. A plea tainting her voice in such a way, I’m not sure I want to hear it ever again.

  “Fine, but you know it’s true. Your father and I only want what’s best for you, and Michelle pointed out what we want isn’t always what you want. She also mentioned all of the things we failed to learn about Brent. While we’re still a little worried, we’ve decided to support your decision. We came here to apologize to you both for our behavior that night.”

  “Thanks, Mother,” Jamie says quietly.

  “And you, Mr. Alexander?” He hasn’t said a word and I want to hear him apologize too. He shouldn’t make his wife do it for him.

  He glares at me, and inside, I’m smiling like a cat who caught the canary. “As my wife said, we’re sorry for our actions.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Alexander smiles. “Great.” She clasps her hands together. “Now, have you had dinner yet?”

  “No. Brent and I were going to grab something on the way home.”

  “Good. Then you’ll come eat with us?”

  Jamie glances up at me. I want to go with her, but there’s one thing standing in my way. “I promised to have the car finished by morning,” I tell her.

  “You’re picking work over my daughter?” Mr. Alexander criticizes with a shake of his head.

  “Father!” Jamie exclaims.

  “I’m choosing to keep my word,” I correct him.

  Jamie turns in the chair and faces me. “How late will you be here if you did go?”

  If I hadn’t stopped working when Jamie got here to fool around a little bit in my office, I could probably be done in the next two hours. But we wasted a lot of time. And ‘wasted’ only in the sense that it was time that should’ve been spent working; I honestly don’t care how late I’m here tonight because that time in my office was the best thing that’s ever happened in this room.

  “Late enough, but if you want me to go, I’ll go.” I don’t care how late I’ll be here, but everyone else, including Jamie, cares. She can make the decision. Jamie hesitates, so I add, “Say the word, hon.”

  She shakes her head. “Stay. I don’t want to add to why you’re here so late. It’s already my fault you’re behind.” She flashes a smile.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Completely.”

  Mr. Alexander isn’t happy about this turn of events at all, but I don’t care. I probably should go. I want to go and make sure they behave. But in all my efforts not to work too much or too late, I left it up to Jamie. If she feels good enough about things to go alone and if she’s okay with me staying behind, then that’s all the approval I need.

  I walk them all to the door and see them off before returning to work. Each step I take toward the vehicle feels like the wrong one. Everything about me knows I should be going with her. Not going simply isn’t right. There’s nothing I can do about it now, though. They’re gone and I have work to do.

  For the entire hour and a half Jamie’s gone, I wish she was here. The shop is awfully silent without her; the noise I make all lonesome without the pages of her textbooks turning, her fingers typing on the keyboard of her laptop, and her occasionally talking to me. And I keep thinking about that moment when Jamie begged her mother not to bring up whatever happened while she was little.

  “Hey, boss! I’m back! I brought you something to eat,” Jamie shouts as she walks into the shop.

  “How’d it go?”

  She walks over to kiss me on the cheek and then returns to the workspace she made for herself, setting my food down next to her. “Dad took two minutes to complain that you couldn’t take the time to eat with us, and I explained that you’re very dedicated to your work, but if you’re not careful you turn into a workaholic. And I pointed out it wasn’t you who made the decision but me. After that, he shut up. Otherwise, it went pretty well. I’m taking it as a win.”

  “I’m glad. Thanks for the food, too. I’ll eat here in a minute.” It’s about time she gets a win with her parents.

  “Did you make good progress?”

  “Yeah.” I walk over to Jamie and box her in from behind, my hands on either side of her on the desk. “Something’s nagging me and I want to ask you about it, but if you don’t want to tell me, don’t. You can pretend I’m not over here and I’ll get back to work.”

  “Okay,” she hesitantly agrees.

  “Why did you tell your mom not to talk about whatever happened when you were younger; what happened?”

  Jamie stills. That is enough of a response for me.

  I kiss her cheek. “I’m getting back to work.”

  “You should eat.”

  I grab a nearby stool and sit next to her. She’s quiet and possibly pretending to work as I pull my food out of the bag, grab the fork, and begin to eat the still-hot chicken meal.

  “Promise you’ll still love me if I remind you?” she whispers, her eyes on her textbook.

  Remind me? What does that mean? Regardless, I give her my answer. “Jamie, it’s not like I could ever stop.”

  “Says the divorced man,” she mutters.

  My reaction is so swift, it startles her. All I do is reach out to grab her chin and turn her head to make her look at me. My voice is low and deadly serious. “That is nothing like this.” I motion between us as if she needs further clarity. “This is different and better in every possible way.” She nods in acceptance and I return to eating my food.

  “I know.” With a sigh, she turns toward me in her seat. “I told you why I hate school already. That was my mom’s way of reminding me how dumb I am and have always been.”

  Leaning down, I kiss her forehead. “Not dumb, hon. And if it makes you feel better, I always had Cs in my English classes.”

  She smiles. “I’m just ready to be done with it all.”

  “I’d say you’re determined, too. Despite hating it, you’re about to graduate college.”

  “And then I’ll work a job that allows me to live a simple life.”

  I plan to make sure she’s able to do what she wants, is happy, and doesn’t hear shit about it from anyone, too. Jamie returns to her schoolwork and I return to my work once I finish eating. Jamie plays some music on her laptop while we get closer and closer to finishing up for the night. She, of course, finishes before I do, but it doesn’t take me long after to complete my job as well.

  “You coming home with me tonight?” I ask as we walk outside and I lock up.

  “I didn’t pack a bag.”

  I glance over at her. “Since when do you not pack a bag?”

  “I was in a rush and it slipped my mind,” she quickly defends herself.

  “You can still stay,” I tell her. We walk to her car and I open the door for her.

  “But then I’ll be doing the walk of shame in the morning because I’ll be wearing the same clothes.”

  I laugh. “There will be no shame. But if you want to go to campus and sleep in a cramped dorm room instead of in my comfy bed with me, that’s your choice. Just give me a kiss and we’ll be on our separate but
merry ways.”

  “No kiss.” What is she talking about? I’m about to object, but she says, “I will not be the girlfriend to disappoint her boyfriend tonight. I’ll come home with you.”

  That’s exactly what I like to hear.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Shannon asks.

  “Positive. You’re officially in good hands with Glenn and I don’t need to attend the wedding, especially when the only one who would be okay with Jamie there is Gregory. Go, get married, and finally live the happy life you’ve always wanted,” and I say that completely sincerely. As much as the woman has been a pain in my ass since the divorce, I wish her all the best.

  “Thanks, Brent. But you and Jamie are welcome.”

  “That’s okay, Shannon. We’ve already made other plans.” We haven’t actually, but now that I’m free and clear from going to the wedding, I don’t want to get sucked into going again. I wrap up the conversation with Shannon, just in time for Kayla to walk into my office with lunch for us both.

  “You haven’t eaten, have you?” she asks.

  “No. Thanks.” I pick up my burger while she takes a seat. “How is everything?”

  “Good. I’m still doing well in school, still working, and I still get along with and love Logan. In fact, we have a date tonight.” Kayla shrugs. “It’s a double date with Carey and her boyfriend, but whatever.”

  I smile. “Look at my little girl. She goes from being annoyed and jealous by her boyfriend’s best friend to going on double dates with her.”

  “I know. I’ve made major progress,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “You don’t look like you’re working yourself to death. You almost look well-rested.”

  “Because like I told you and everyone else, I’m not a workaholic and I can cut back if I want to, which I have.”

  “About time. I’ve only been begging you for forever.”

  For two seconds I debate if I should say what I want to say, but then I decide to hell with it. “You have Jamie to partially thank for it.”

  Kayla groans. “Let’s not talk about her.”

 

‹ Prev