Heels (Boots Book 2)

by Megan Erickson

  I felt Bryan’s presence at my back, and my heart lurched. I didn’t want a confrontation. If the whole town thought I was trash now, then a shouting match or fistfight on my front lawn would do nothing to dissuade that opinion.

  I turned around, intent to order Bryan back into the house, but the words clogged in my throat. He leaned against the wall, arms cross over his naked chest, top button of his jeans still undone, feet bare. And he was smiling that eerie smile that raised the hair on my arms.

  His teeth shone white and straight. “Good evening, officer. TGIF, right?”

  I slowly turned my head back around, exorcist-style, to see Tim looking like smoke was about to come out of his ears, cartoon-style. He wasn’t stupid, and it was clear he’d interrupted something, from the cold smirk on Bryan’s face, to his state of undress.

  Tim’s jaw clenched so hard, I thought his molars would crack. “Fuck you.”

  Bryan’s expression didn’t change. “Might want to work on your house call bedside manner.”

  This was really going to happen, and I had to put a stop to it. “Tim, this is my house, and you’re on my property. Unless you have a reason to speak to me, or Bryan, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Tim’s eyes were bulging in his skull. “I know you took the divorce hard, but this is not how you get back at me.”

  I blinked at him. “Get back at you? This,” I gestured between Bryan and me, “has nothing to do with you.”

  Tim snorted. “You can tell yourself that.”

  “I don’t need to tell myself anything. It’s the truth.”

  Tim leaned forward. “He will not stay. He will leave you worse than he found you.”

  Bryan straightened, the veins in his neck standing out, and I shifted to block as much of him as I could. “No,” I said firmly, in a tone I’d never used with my ex-husband. “You did that, Tim.”

  He jerked back a bit, as if my words stung him, which would be a surprise because I didn’t think he cared a bit about me. This was all posturing, a man who tore me down and wanted me to stay there. He didn’t want another man to have me, or want me.

  “Now—” I began.

  Tim wasn’t done. This time he addressed Bryan. “I’m onto you, motherfucker. Don’t think you can skate back in to this town and her house. I will make your life a living hell.”

  Bryan leaned forward, a hand braced on the at the top of the doorframe, so his long, lean body and muscles were on full display. It was a calculated move to look intimidating and it worked. Tim took a slight shuffle back. Bryan’s smile grew. “I’m not just in her house, asshole. I’m in her life, and I’m in her bed. In six months, she’ll have my baby. I appreciate her body just the way it is. When she cries, I dry her tears and make her smile. I intend to do all of that until the day I die.” He tilted his head, and I swore something like pity passed over his face as he took in Tim’s stiff form. “So you can take your threats and shove them up your ass. I’ve already been through hell. Whatever you throw at me will be a cake walk.”

  Tim’s face went pale, and he reached out a hand toward me, like he meant to touch my stomach. “A baby?”

  Bryan was in front of me in a split second. “Touch her and I’ll break your fucking wrist.”

  Tim’s voice was faint and without heat. “Who’s being threatening now?”

  “She told you to leave, so I suggest you fucking leave.”

  I gripped the waistband of Bryan’s jeans and peered around him. Tim didn’t move, his gaze locked on Bryan’s in a stare-off that made me think of two dueling bulls. Except I knew who’d win. They did too. It was only a matter of how long until Tim dropped his gaze.

  He lasted fifteen seconds. I counted. Finally, he looked at his boots. His shoulders heaved and when he glanced back at me, I saw a bit of humanity that I hadn’t seen since we were teenagers. It quickly passed when he sneered. “I’ll be the first to say I told you so when he leaves you saggy with stretch marks and a newborn.”

  Tim always knew how to aim to hurt. My face must have registered the hit, because Tim smiled.

  Bryan’s hand covered mine at his waist, and he shuffled us backward, all while laughing. “When you’re eating your TV dinner tonight and in bed alone, I hope those words keep you warm. As for me, I’ll fall asleep with her moans echoing in my ears and the taste of her pussy on my lips.”

  “Bryan!” I hissed just as he slammed the door on Tim’s slack-jawed face.

  He was still laughing as he turned around and I slapped him on the shoulder, mortification coursing through me. “I can’t believe you said that to him.”

  He didn’t care that I wanted to die on the spot. “Oh shit, did you see his face?”

  “Bryan!”

  He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against his chest. “Peaches, I’m sorry. I claim temporary insanity.”

  “I can’t believe you referred to oral sex.” My voice was muffled against his skin

  Bryan’s body bucked as a new peal of laughter erupted from his mouth. “Oral sex? Baby, I went all out and told him I was eating your pussy tonight.”

  “Oh my God, stop. I don’t need a play-by-play. It’s burned in my memory.”

  Bryan gripped my face, his grin still plastered on his face. “I’m sorry, okay? You have to admit it was worth it to see his face.”

  I pursed my lips, because he was not wrong. After the arrow he’d hurled at me, it’d been satisfying for Bryan to hit him back.

  “I didn’t hit him. I did threaten him, so I have to apologize for that. But no violence. He thinks he’s smart. Baby, he’s dumb as rocks and he will not win a war of words with me. And he knows that now.”

  I huffed as the embarrassment receded. Bryan was not wrong.

  “And baby, he’s not going to tell anyone, not a single damn soul, what I said. Because I shattered his pride. I think we both know that’s all he has.”

  I wrapped my fingers around Bryan’s wrist. “Okay.”

  “You forgive me?” He batted his lashes at me.

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t give me a puppy dog look.”

  He grinned and kissed my forehead. “You okay? He said some nasty shit.”

  “It hurt.”

  His smile vanished quickly, and his eyes darkened. “Fucker.”

  “But it’s okay. You’re here.”

  “You know he’s full of shit, right?” He angled my head so I’d look into his eyes. “I told you I’m here to stay.”

  I let my fears out into the ether. “What if you get tired of me? What if the baby doesn’t sleep? What if—”

  “Peaches, my wild oats are done being sowed.” He flung an arm out. “This is what I want. And when I make a decision, it’s done.” His hands traveled down to grip my waist. “I know words are empty, and so I’ll prove it to you.”

  “I’ll prove it to you, too,” I said.

  He smiled. “I know you will.”

  “With actions,” I whispered.

  “Actions, baby,” he whispered back.

  Sixteen

  The interrogation was almost here. Bryan came back Monday, and I’d successfully held off my sister until Saturday. But the time was up, and she was on her way to my house with her husband for dinner.

  I wasn’t confident any of this would go well. My sister didn’t mince words and Bryan, despite his return, was on her shit list. I’d warned him, and he’d brushed it off, saying he wasn’t scared of my sister, but still, when the doorbell rang, my stomach cramped.

  He stood up from the couch where we were watching some sitcom rerun while the chicken I’d made for dinner baked. He stretched his arms over his head. “I’ll get it.”

  I made to stand. “I should probably get it.”

  He gently placed his hand on my shoulder, keeping me in place. “Babe, you were on your feet cooking and shit for the last two hours. I can tell your ankles are swollen. Just let me get the door, okay?”

  I inhaled deeply. “Fine.”

&nb
sp; He was trying to hide a smile. “Relax.”

  “I am relaxed,” I snapped. Well, it was my version of a snap. I wasn’t very good at being mean to him.

  His smile grew wider and he bit his lip. “Sure.”

  “Oh, just answer the door.” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back on the couch.

  “Sure thing, Peaches.”

  I listened to his booted footsteps as he walked down my front hallway. The door opened, then his deep voice rumbled out pleasantly, “How you doing, Rena?”

  Her voice came a few seconds later, full of sass. “Hello. I guess we call you Bryan now?”

  I rolled my eyes, as Bryan said, “You can call me whatever you want.”

  “I think my sister would prefer Bryan than the other term I’ve been calling you for weeks.”

  “Rena,” came Mark’s admonishment. God bless him.

  “This is my husband, Mark. Mark, this is Bryan, the guy who knocked up my sister, left, and then came back and smiled his way into her good graces again.”

  “Rena!” I called out my own warning.

  Bryan’s laugh followed. “Nice to meet you, Mark.”

  Footsteps sounded down the hall, lighter and faster, and then my sister came into view, her expression softening when she spotted me on the couch. “Hey you.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “I thought you said you’d behave.”

  “Behave?” She blinked innocently as Bryan and Mark entered the living room. “Oh trust me, ask Mark. This is me behaving.”

  “Rena—” I began, but Bryan cut me off.

  “Sam, she’s fine. Give her time to get used to me, and give me time to prove to her I’m staying. All right?”

  Tears sprang to my eyes, hard and fast. I’d always been a crier, but since second trimester hit, I was going through every tissue box in the house. “I just want everyone to get along.” I hiccupped a sob. “And it stresses me out and makes me anxious if you two—”

  Rena collapsed on the couch beside me and pulled me into her arms, cutting me off. “Sam, I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is stress you out. But Bryan is right. I need time, but I’ll do my best to accept him back like you did, okay?”

  “Bryan’s right,” he parroted. “See, look at us getting along already.”

  “Don’t push your luck, bucko,” Rena retorted, which flipped a switch on my emotions. I went from crying to laughing in a second.

  “Why do you always laugh when I get mad?” Rena muttered.

  “You called him bucko.” I laughed so hard that I snorted, which sent Rena into a fit of laughter too.

  I looked up through wet eyelashes to see the two men staring at us like we were crazy. Bryan turned to Mark. “So, you want a beer?”

  Mark looked like Bryan had just tossed him a life preserver in shark-infested waters. “Yeah, a beer would be great.”

  “We can both go in the kitchen. And get one.”

  “Even better,” Mark said, and the two men wasted zero time leaving us women alone in our weepy laughter.

  Rena glared at them as they left. “I think I see a dust cloud behind Mark’s shoes.”

  I snorted again but managed to hold in my giggles. Rena wiped her eyes and then held me at arm’s length, looking me over. “I’m sorry, I’ll be nice to him.”

  “No, it’s okay. You’re both right. Take your time. He hasn’t even been back for a week.”

  Plus, last night after the confrontation with Tim, I fell asleep before Bryan got anywhere close to getting my clothes off. This morning, he left early to go to work, so he’d received zero nookie. He hadn’t said a word about it, but I wasn’t stupid. He would much rather be naked in bed with me than dealing with my sister’s barbs. But he didn’t complain, or grumble. He took it all in stride, and did so out of respect for me. My sister put up with my crying, sad self for the last month, so she deserved to take a little bit of it out on Bryan.

  “Love you,” my sister said.

  “Love you back.” I smiled. “Always.”

  The atmosphere during dinner was less tense. Of course, Rena still watched Bryan’s every move, and couldn’t resist shooting a few jabs, but he let it all roll off his back. When it was time for them to leave, Mark and Bryan stood on the front porch, finishing their beers.

  “Be out in a minute, Mark,” Rena called to her husband. “Sam just wants to show me something.”

  “Um…” I met Bryan’s steady, assessing gaze before the door swung shut. Then my sister was in front of me, pushing me back into the kitchen. “Rena… what?”

  “I just want a word.” She poured a glass of water from the kitchen sink and handed this to me.

  “Why do I need water?”

  “Excuse me for being concerned about your hydration.”

  “Rena.”

  She sighed and wrung her hands before gripping the counter. “Okay so I’m worried.”

  I gulped the water. “Worried about what?”

  “He’s so smooth. Almost too smooth. I mean when he was a one-night stand, it wasn’t a big deal. Then it’s great when they’re smooth. But a smooth-talking charmer isn’t who you make babies and have a long-term relationship with. Especially smooth talkers who are career criminals and already lied.”

  I was going to throw up my dinner. “Rena, why are you doing this?”

  “Because, sister. I love you, but you always plunge in head first. All the way. With all you have. You did it with every boyfriend Mom had. You always thought he was going to be the one who stayed, to be our dad, and they never stuck around. Every time one left, you were heartbroken.” Rena trembled, her voice shaking as she clenched her hands into fists. “Then Tim promised you the world, and you took him up on it even when he failed to deliver one fucking single ounce of what you deserve.”

  Every word was a hook, reaching deep inside of me and latching onto every secret fear I hadn’t dared to let surface. And now they were all pulled to the top like caught fish.

  Rena gripped my shoulders. “This time it’s not just you. There’s a baby involved. Do you trust him, Sam? Do you really?”

  I hadn’t realized I was crying until I felt a tear drop fall from my chin. My body bucked, and Rena’s lip trembled. “I hate to say all this to you, but if I don’t, who will?”

  “I do believe him,” I blurted. “I do, and I don’t know what that says about me. If it makes me weak or stupid or naive, but I believe he cares about me and wants me and wants the baby. I believe he’s trying to start over and live a better life.” A sob wracked my body and I dropped my head into my hands. “And because of that I can’t give up on this, even if part of me is telling me to run. I just can’t. Because the rest of me is saying what if, what if, what if. What if this life I’m starting with him is everything I’ve ever dreamed of?”

  “And what if it’s not?” Rena’s voice was a hoarse whisper as tears tracked down her face.

  “Then I’ll pick myself up again like I did after Tim.” I didn’t know I had those words in me, that strength, until I said it. “If I did it then, I could do it again.”

  Rena’s eyes fluttered and she stepped back, pulling a bunch of tissues from the box on the counter. She handed me several and blew her nose into one. “Okay,” she said, voice muffled against the tissue. “Okay.”

  “I know that’s a lot to ask of you, because you’ll go through it with me—”

  She shook her head. “I’ll go through it with you a thousand times. Every decision you make, whether it ends up being right, wrong, or somewhere in between—I’ll always be there for you for the consequences.”

  Fresh tears spilled out of my eyes. “Stop making me cry.”

  Rena choked on a watery laugh. “I said my piece. And I hope that’s okay. I just had to.”

  I shook my head. “It’s okay.”

  “Just promise me you’ll keep working on the relationship. That you push him, question him. Be your own advocate. Protect yourself. And the baby.”

  I nodded. “
I will.”

  We cleaned ourselves up as best as we could, but even so, when we walked out onto the front porch, Bryan narrowed his gaze on my face, and his jaw got a bit tight. Still, he said polite good-byes to Rena and Mark. He put his arm around my shoulders as we watched them drive away. His arm felt different now, weighted down by the words and questions circling in my head.

  So I ducked into the house and busied myself in the kitchen cleaning.

  His footsteps didn’t follow me right away, but eventually his boots clunked down the hallway, then stopped at the doorway of the kitchen. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, leaning against the doorframe, arms over his chest, watching my every move. He didn’t hide that he was watching me, and I didn’t let on that I was bothered by it.

  “Why were you crying?”

  There was no sense in trying to pretend I wasn’t, but that didn’t mean I had to tell him everything. He got so much of me, but he didn’t get to hear all the details of a soul-to-soul talk with my sister. “I’d rather not say.”

  He made a noise, like a growl in his throat, and the rough resonance of it startled me. The drinking glass I had just rinsed slipped out of my grasp as I transferred it to the dishwasher. I reached for it, but in a second, Bryan was there. His palm caught the glass and in a swift motion slammed it down on the counter. His body pressed my back into the counter, caging me in with his big arms, his intense glare holding me to him like a magnet.

  I placed my palms up, eyes squeezing shut, because the angry energy rolling off of him locked up my muscles like a deer in headlights. He said before he’d never shame me for crying, but this was all too reminiscent of Tim…

  Bryan didn’t move and the only sound was the dripping sink and our heavy panting. Finally, he spoke, and I could still hear the anger riding the surface of his words. “Samantha, look at me.”

  I didn’t open my eyes.

  “Please.”

  I didn’t want to look at him, worried that all Rena’s words, all my fears would be visible all over my face. That he’d know I was insecure, that I was scared, that I was placing so much of myself in him and us in a way I never did with Tim.