by Emery Rose
Her voice had been so cold. So hard. Her face twisted with grief and hurt and anger. And how could I blame her for never wanting to see my face again? I looked just like the man who had killed her mother. It had been hard enough trying to navigate our two very different worlds and find time to be together. But now … there was no chance in hell we could ever make it work. There were too many obstacles standing in our way.
At the end of the day, what was the point in calling her? There was nothing left to say. No world in which we could ever—should have ever—been together. So yeah, you had to know when it was time to cut your losses and walk away.
My phone buzzed and I checked the screen. Kate.
“Hey. You good?”
“Hi honey. I just got a call from your new guest who checked in earlier. She said there’s a problem with the water pressure.”
I groaned.
“Would you mind stopping by and checking on it?”
Yeah, I minded but I wasn’t about to bitch and moan about it. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and scrubbed my hand over my face. “Fine. I’ll go now.”
“Thank you.”
She didn’t need to thank me. It was my guesthouse but she did all the bookings and took care of everything.
“Catch you later.”
I stood up from the bed, favoring my left leg and grabbed my Nikes from the closet. Might as well get this over with.
I decided to drive, justifying it by telling myself it would be quicker. Bullshit. Five minutes later, I pulled up behind an SUV parked in front of the guesthouse. Then I hobbled up to the front door feeling like I was about a hundred years old and rapped my knuckles against the wood.
The door swung open and my breath hitched. For a long moment, neither of us said a word. She was wearing cut-offs and a black tank top over a thin white one. Braless. Barefoot. Long black hair falling halfway down her back. I stared at the tattoo on her arm as if it was the first time I’d ever seen it. Then my eyes moved to her lush lips and up to her eyes where they locked and held. Those goddamn eyes… stormy and gray, fringed by long dark lashes. They haunted my dreams and now that she was here, standing right in front of me, I didn’t know what to do or say.
“Hi Cowboy.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I… God, it’s so good to see you.”
My eyes narrowed on her. Dry tears streaked her cheeks. “Why were you crying?” Who did I have to beat up?
“I was chopping onions.” She wiped her cheeks. “You know how that always makes me cry.”
“Yeah. I remember.” I stared at her face, half-expecting her to vanish into thin air. “What are you doing here?”
“Cooking dinner. For you. Jambalaya. I know you liked it so… have you eaten yet?”
I looked over my shoulder at the SUV parked in front of the guesthouse then back at her. Yep, she was still there. Not my imagination. “What are you really doing here?”
“I’m here for you. I …” She swallowed hard and I watched her throat bob. “I wanted to call you. So many times. But I never knew what to say or how to tell you how sorry I was. It didn’t seem right to do it on the phone.” She held out her arms and forced a smile. “So here I am.”
“Here you are.” I was still standing on the front porch, trying to make sense of this.
“I didn’t even stop to think you might already have plans.” She gnawed on her bottom lip. I’d kissed those lips hundreds of times. They’d been wrapped around my cock and… shit, I had to stop thinking about it.
“Are you free tonight? Have you eaten dinner yet?”
She spun the silver ring around her thumb, a nervous habit. I knew the significance of the ring now. The feather of an angel’s wing, according to her Maw Maw. And the angel was her mother. Ophelia. Ophelia Leroux Holloway. Wife of Rhett Holloway. Mother of Shiloh and Landry. Killed in a random shooting.
“Will you have dinner with me, Brody?”
My eyes narrowed on her. “You want me to have dinner with you?”
She nodded. “I want more than dinner, but it seemed like a good place to start.” She opened the door wider and I hesitated before stepping inside. Her eyes lowered. “What happened to your leg?”
I shrugged one shoulder and cursed myself for not changing into jeans before I came over. But then, I hadn’t expected her to be here. “It’s nothing.”
She inspected the side of my leg. It looked like road burn. Then my knee. It was red and swollen, and had blown up like a damn balloon. Somehow, I’d twisted it in the fall. “Jesus, Brody. Get in here. You need ice on that knee.”
She came to stand next to me and grabbed my arm, pulling it over her shoulders. I looked down at her and scowled. “The hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Lean on me.”
“You can’t carry my weight. You’d snap like a twig.”
She glared at me. “I’m stronger than I look.”
“I know you are,” I said, my voice softer. “But I can walk on my own two feet and I’m not going to lean on you.”
Shiloh rolled her eyes. “Still so stubborn.”
I tried my damnedest to walk without limping but once again I failed miserably. I lowered myself onto a stool. She pulled up a stool across from me. “Prop up your leg, Cowboy. I’ll get you an ice pack.”
I did as she said, mostly because I had no choice. It hurt too much to bend my knee so I propped it up on the stool and she came back with a bag of frozen peas. “Frozen peas?”
“I don’t have an ice pack.” She planted her hands on her hips, her voice filled with accusation. “How did you do this?”
“Was trying to do the Texas two-step. Guess I’ve lost my touch.”
She laughed, her gaze moving from my knee to my face. “You’re crazy,” she said softly.
“I know.” She was standing so close I could smell her scent.
“Brody.” Her voice was a mere whisper. I lifted my hand to her face and brushed my thumb over her soft, full lips. Her eyes drifted shut. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Missed you more.” I dropped my hand to my side and cleared my throat. “How’s that Jambalaya coming along?”
“Oh shit.” She flew to the stove and I chuckled as she stirred the pot, mumbling under her breath. “Every single time. You’re too distracting.”
I stared at her perfect ass. The curve of her hips. Her slender, toned legs that had been wrapped around my back more times than I could count. Talk about distracting. My knee might be fucked but my dick was working just fine. It stirred in my shorts, obviously appreciating the view.
“All is not lost,” she said, sounding relieved as she lowered the heat under the pot and turned from the stove. I didn’t know if she was talking about the dinner or us.
She grabbed two beers from the fridge and flipped the caps then handed one to me across the breakfast bar. I took it from her and thanked her.
“Let’s make a toast.”
Those words reminded me of that little club in Miami, and the last time we made a toast. Of the promises I’d made and broken. “Let’s not.” Without waiting to hear what she wanted to toast to, I took a swig of the cold beer.
Undeterred, she held up her beer. “How about we drink to new beginnings?”
“Is that what this is? A new beginning?”
She nodded. “I hope so. Now that I’ve found you, I don’t know how to live without you. I don’t want to live without you.” She stopped and sucked in a breath. “And I was kind of hoping you felt the same way. ”
“We were never meant to be, Shy.” I averted my head, unable to see the disappointment on her face, and took another swig of beer. Music was piping from her portable speakers--Cigarettes After Sex’s “Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby.” She’d played this for me once. We were in New York, staying at Bastian’s loft in Tribeca and she’d been dancing, almost trancelike, her eyes painted smoky and her lips red, dressed in a loose black tank top and lacy black underwear. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. She’d stradd
led me on the living room sofa and when she fucked me, she threw back her head, exposing the column of her neck that begged to be marked by my mouth and teeth.
“Don’t say that,” she said. “It’s not true. We’re perfect for each other.”
“What about your mom?” My gaze swung to her, my eyes narrowed. “Do you think she’d feel the same way? How do you think she’d feel if she knew that her daughter was in love with the enemy?”
“My mom is gone. And you’re not the enemy. It wasn’t your fault and I was wrong to act like it was. It was the initial shock. But you were just a kid, Brody. An innocent kid who wasn’t responsible for what that man did.”
I shook my head, disputing that. “I look just like him. Every time you look at me, it will be a reminder of what you lost. I can’t expect you to live with something like that.”
“When I look at you, I don’t see him. I see Brody McCallister. A good man. An amazing father. A man who speaks his own truth and is always there for the people he loves and cares about. You never let me down, Brody. I trusted you—trust you—with my life.”
I rubbed my hand over my chest. “I lied to you.”
“No. You didn’t lie. You just … you didn’t want to be associated with that monster. And I get it now. He’s dead to you. What he did has nothing to do with us. You deserve good things, Brody. You are the best man I’ve ever known. The most honest and true and strong. And I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”
“You had every right to act that way.”
“I love you, Brody. I don’t want to lose you again. Please tell me there’s still a chance for us. Tell me you’re still willing to fight for me. To be by my side when I need someone to lean on. Tell me you’re still that man.”
“I fucked everything up for you. How can you still want me?” It shocked me that she could still think she wanted me, despite everything that had come out about me. Despite all the pain I’d caused her, she still wanted me.
She rounded the island and came to stand next to me. “How could I not?” She cradled my face in her hands and her grays locked on my browns. Unshed tears glittered in her eyes. “You’re my one true love. We were always destined to be together. Our paths were always meant to cross.”
I wrapped my hands around her wrists and lowered her hands, clasping them in mine. “Shy… our lives are too different. Even if we’re able to get past what happened that night, there’s no way to make this work.”
She yanked her hands out of mine and crossed her arms over her chest. “I never took you for a coward.”
“I’m being realistic.”
“That’s such bullshit. Where’s the man who promised to fight for me, regardless of the odds?” She threw up her hands. “This is just like that day at the airport. You’re letting me go without a fight.”
She stomped away, her movements jerky as she turned off the heat under the pot then spun around to face me, her eyes narrowed. She pointed her finger at me. “You are a big fat coward.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. She glared at me. That made me laugh harder. She was so small and angry, and reminded me of one of those cartoon characters with the smoke coming out of their ears.
“What are you laughing at?”
I shook my head and tried to control my laughter. Didn’t think she’d appreciate the cartoon reference. “You.”
“I wasn’t being funny.”
I stopped and took a breath. “I know.”
“What are you so scared of, Brody?”
I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth then I gave her an honest answer. “Losing you again. Not sure my heart could handle that.”
“Oh Brody,” she breathed. And then she began crying. There were no onions to blame her tears on this time.
I tossed the bag of frozen peas aside and went to stand in front of her. Then I gathered her into my arms and she clung to me like she was afraid I’d disappear if she didn’t hold on tight enough.
“Don’t let me go,” she said, her voice muffled.
She pulled back a little and lifted her face to mine. I wiped away the tears with the pads of my thumbs. She was so fucking beautiful. Strong and true and fierce. But our love made us vulnerable. True bravery had nothing to do with looking your opponent in the eye before you knocked him to the ground and pummeled him with your fists. True bravery was looking into the eyes of the woman you loved and promising them forever. Despite the odds stacked against you, you’d be willing to risk it all for one more day, one more year, or if you got really lucky, an entire lifetime.
“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll make it work. I promise, we’ll figure it out.”
“Maw Maw said there’d be a lot of storms in our way. The journey won’t always be easy.” She was testing me now, wanting to see if I had what it took to be the man for her.
“We’ll ride out the storms.” I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, the backs of my fingers brushing over her jaw. “Come out on the other side.”
She rewarded me with a smile that was so fucking glorious it knocked the air out of my lungs. “I love you so much, Cowboy.”
“Pretty sure I love you more.”
She laughed through her tears. “It’s not a contest. But okay, if you want to turn it into one… game on.”
I laughed and when I stopped laughing, I dipped my head and took the first taste of something I’d been denied for too long. Her arms looped around my neck, her tits pressed against my chest, and I forgot all about the pain in my leg and the long months of separation. Her lips were soft and her tongue lashed against mine, my heart beating at the same tempo as hers. We kissed until her lips were swollen and bruised, pouring all our love and pain and hope into this one kiss.
When we pulled away to catch our breath she said, “It’s so good to be home again.”
And that was how it felt. Like our long search was over and we were back where we belonged. Home.
Epilogue
Shiloh
One Year Later
Some girls dream about their wedding day. Not me. I only ever dreamt about two things. Finding my one true love and having a music career. I was lucky enough to make both of those dreams come true.
“Let’s do this,” Brody said one morning about a week before I was leaving to go on tour for my second solo album. This tour would only be for five months, mostly in North America with a few weeks in Europe. We’d arranged it so that Brody and I would never be apart for more than two weeks at a time. It wasn’t ideal, compromises had to be made, but it was our way of having it all. He said he wouldn’t have it any other way and I believed him. He’d never expect or want me to give up my career any more than I’d expect him to give up his. The paths we’d chosen made us who we were and neither of us was looking to change the other. I loved him just as he was.
“Do what?” We’d just come back from a morning ride and I was grooming Phoenix, making her coat shine. Last year, when she’d turned one, Brody had trained her and I’d been riding her ever since. She was my special girl and I lavished so much attention on her that sometimes Brody got jealous. It was hilarious.
“Get married.”
I turned to look at him, half-expecting him to laugh and say he was joking. But he looked dead serious. “You want to get married? You don’t even believe in the institution of marriage.” We’d had this conversation before. “We both agreed we weren’t interested in getting married. And we have Noah so …” I gnawed on my lip, the worry setting in. What if he’d changed his mind about everything we’d discussed? “Wait. You’re still cool with not having more kids, right? At least, not right now...”
“Stop your worrying.” He squeezed my shoulder. “None of that’s changed. And I’m not talking about a big wedding with all the hoopla.”
“Hoopla?” I laughed. “So what are you saying?”
“Just you and me. Making a promise. Speaking our own truth.” He shrugged one shoulder, trying to pass it off as if this was a casual convers
ation and he had no skin in the game. But I could tell by the look on his face that this meant a lot to him. “That’s what it’s all about, right? You and me making a vow to each other.”
And I guess it was. Now here we are, just the two of us in the woods. It’s close to midnight, and lanterns and tea lights in mason jars light up the darkness. Above us is a sky full of stars and a sliver of moon. The air is warm and smells like juniper and pine and the promise of summertime. Brody’s wearing a white button-up, the sleeves rolled up to expose his tanned forearms, vein porn at its finest, his legs clad in faded denim. I’m wearing a silky gray slip dress trimmed in black lace. We look like us. The cowboy and the rock star. His hair is as light as the sun, mine is dark as midnight. He loves open spaces and guards his privacy, never goes on the Internet nor does he have any social media accounts. I spend months at a time in cities, waking up in different hotel rooms, my photos splashed across the front page of tabloids and I have millions of followers on social media. Two opposites, living in different worlds, who never should have found each other but by some miracle, we did.
We’re not perfect. We argue. We fight about stupid things and sometimes we drive each other crazy. He’s still the most stubborn man I’ve ever met. He’s still too proud to ask for anyone’s help, always insisting that he can handle everything on his own. Spoiler alert: That’s not always the case but try telling him that.
But no man could ever love me the way he does. And I have never loved anyone the way I love him. We’re both a little crazy, with a wild streak and a temper. It makes for interesting times.
Now we’re standing in the middle of this cathedral of trees, facing each other when he takes my hands in his.
“You go first,” I tell him, stopping short of reminding him that it was his idea.
He nods solemnly, like he’s taking this seriously, and I love that about him. I love that you never know exactly what to expect. Brody is always surprising me with the things he says and does. His outlook on life and love is so unique, and I can’t wait to hear what he’s going to say now.