Bruised (Brody Brothers, #3)

by Stacy Gail

  When she’d insisted on going back to work at the ranch’s office, he’d been cautiously encouraging, though it didn’t escape her notice that he found every excuse in the book to drop by the main house several times a day, and then stayed with her for hours at a time. Every day she got stronger, but when she’d mentioned going back to work at The Dive, Killian had put his foot down. According to him, he wasn’t about to let her be run off her feet for hours on end, serving up drinks and dodging roving hands like nothing had happened. Not to mention she was a Brody now. He was happy to help Manny find a replacement, but her days at The Dive were officially over.

  She once told Killian that life as a Brody seemed like a simple, happy one, and for the most part she’d been right. Trips into town were now a breeze, and she didn’t have to dread anyone bringing up her mother’s infidelity or how her father had abandoned her and her mother. People she didn’t even know smiled and called her “Mrs. Brody” with a hint of deference, like she was some whacked-out version of American royalty.

  It was weird and she’d probably never get used to it, but since it was a reflection of how high Killian was held in esteem—something he’d worked like a madman to achieve—she tried to accept her new position with as much grace as her awkward self could manage.

  A quick knock on the door turned her around just as Des poked his head through, one hand clamped over his eyes. “Everyone decent?”

  Celia rolled her eyes. “Dude, we all came to the church already dressed in our freaking gowns. Why the actual hell would we get out of them at this point?”

  “Don’t mind Celia,” Lilah said, dragging Des into the room. “She’s just being her easy-going and laidback self.”

  “Listen, smarty. Just wait until you’re at nine months. Your back will be breaking every second of the day, you’ll daydream about finding a comfortable position, and you’ll retain so much water you’ll feel like a tick about to pop. Let’s see how sweet you are then.”

  “I think you’re all sweet, and I’m leaving it at that so no one kills me,” Des announced, looking sharp in the tailored charcoal gray suit, white silk shirt and Green Rock Ranch green tie that all the Brody men were wearing for the ceremony. “I was sent back here to let you know there’s standing room only out there, and Judge Mahoney finally arrived. He’s just about ready to get you two hitched again.”

  “About damn time. I’m ready to get off my feet and dream about sinking my teeth into a nice, juicy steak. See you out there,” Celia added with a quick wave to Dallas.

  “I’ll try to keep her from turning cannibal, at least until the ceremony’s over,” Lilah assured Dallas, giving her a quick hug. “After that, no promises.”

  Des gave the retreating women a baffled glance. “What was that about easy-going and laidback?”

  Dallas grinned as she gave herself one last look in the full-length mirror. Hopefully Killian would be wowed by the results. “Don’t die laughing, but that was how Celia described herself.”

  “Was she kidding?”

  “Nope.”

  “Wow. Who knew that a side effect of pregnancy was becoming delusional?” As she laughed, he appeared in the mirror’s reflection. “You look good, D. Killian’s gonna shit kittens when he sees you.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  Hell, yeah.”

  “You look good, too, little brother.” And he did. Gone was the sallow, thin man she’d seen before the transplant. In the months that had followed, Des had blossomed before her eyes, gaining mass and muscle seemingly by the hour until he rivaled his older brothers in build. As far as she was concerned, he looked like he’d never had a sick day in his life, and she couldn’t be happier about it. “Thank you for agreeing to walk me down the aisle.”

  “It’s my honor, and my pleasure.” He took a moment to smile at her before he checked his smart watch. “Heh. Just got a text from Killian.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “Get your ass out here with D now. Guess we’d better hustle before he accuses me of bringing you to some horrible harm. Again.”

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe. To say that Killian had come down hard on Des post-op for landing himself—and her—in the hospital was, to say the least, putting it mildly. “He’s pretty much over it now, honey. The whole anesthesia problem had him spooked, and he went into hyper-protect mode. But he’s getting better by the day, yeah? I mean, he was fine with you walking me down the aisle, so that alone shows you how much better things are between you.” Or so she hoped. No matter how hard she tried, there always seemed to be a hint of friction between the oldest Brody brother and the youngest.

  Des shook his head as he offered her his arm, and walked her out of the room. “Killian was right to be pissed at me for that, Dallas, and for a lot of other things. If our roles were reversed, I don’t know if I’d ever forgive what I did.”

  “I told you beer was alcohol.”

  He grimaced. “Yeah, I know, but it didn’t matter to me. I didn’t give a shit about myself, you know? Think about what I did—I worked my way through a six-pack while doing yard work in hundred-degree heat, and not once did I think about you and what the repercussions would be. I didn’t give a fuck if I crashed. Then I did, and it could’ve killed you.”

  “It could’ve killed you, dummy. I was fine.”

  “Tell that to the specialist they had to bring in to anesthetize you so you wouldn’t die from that alone. Kill told me all about it.”

  Thanks a lot, Killian. “What matters is that you find a way to care about yourself now. How’s that going?”

  “I’ve had a lot of downtime to think about that and discover what the fuck is wrong with my wiring,” he said, surprising her. She would have bet real money he would have just shrugged it off. “I honestly didn’t give a shit about what happened to me. I was never suicidal,” he added when she looked at him in open concern. “I just didn’t care if I lived or died. I was numb to either possibility.”

  “Oh, Des,” she whispered, hugging his arm and wishing she knew how to make that numbness go away.

  “Then you squirted me in the face with a hose and gave me the gift of life. That’s when I realized something important. I was loved. You loved me, even when I didn’t love myself. Killian loved me, even when I tried my damnedest to hate him. Fin and Ry loved me because they’re my best friends, and they’ve kept me laughing when the darkness wanted to swallow me whole. When I first got to Green Rock Ranch, I went numb because it was the only way to get through my childhood. But then I stayed numb because I didn’t know how to be any other way.”

  Her heart cracked down the middle. “What about now?”

  A huff of laughter escaped him. “I think maybe you donated half your heart to me instead of your liver. The way you made that sacrifice, and knowing how much love was behind it...” Again he shook his head, this time with a rueful smile. “It’s opened up something in me.”

  “Like what?”

  “For one thing, I finally remembered how much I loved you,” he said with the sweetest smile she’d ever received from him. “And I remembered how much I missed you. Hell, it’s no wonder I made myself go numb and forget everything. Missing you like I did, it just about killed my heart.”

  “Des... Oh my God, your timing is great.” She tried not to sob while valiantly blinking away the tears. “I’m going to be a snotty mess by the time I make it to Killian.”

  “I’m just trying to explain why I avoided you when you first got here,” he chuckled, heading down a short hallway that led to a set of closed double doors. “It was a dick move, doing that. I just wanted to remain numb, but no one can remain numb around you. There’s no denying you and your spicy brand of sunshine.”

  “Have you been talking to Killian? He thinks I missed the sugar part of the sugar-and-spice process.”

  “Kill’s not stupid. He knows a good thing when he sees it.” Then he laughed out loud. “After you turned the hose on us, he called a family
meeting. Ry, Fin and I were all there when he told us that he adored the hell out of you, was going to marry you as soon as he could trick you into it, and have a dozen little redheaded babies with you. Then he said if we had problems with that, we could all kiss his ass.”

  “No way.” They came to a stop at the double doors. An attendant spoke softly into a walkie-talkie while Dallas stared at her little brother. “I knew he’d called a family meeting, but he didn’t tell me what it was about. He really said that?”

  Des nodded. “That’s why I’m so glad this day is happening. If I hadn’t been so fucking careless with my health, this is how your first wedding day would’ve gone.”

  “I don’t regret a thing, and I don’t want you to, either.” Right before the doors opened, she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world. I have my brother, and I have Killian. Together, the two of you are my whole heart. I’m so grateful to have you back.”

  “Same here,” he whispered, bending to kiss her cheek as the music swelled. Then he walked her down the aisle to an awaiting Killian, who watched her as if there was nothing else in the entire universe that he needed to see.

  *

  “I’m relieved you didn’t want to hang out at the reception, baby.” Sounding content, Dallas turned in the truck’s passenger seat to smile at him. Killian did everything he could not to run off the damn road, but it was tough. When his woman had come down the aisle to him where she belonged, he knew with absolute certainty he would never forget how magnificent his Dallas was, to the point where he couldn’t even breathe. He honestly hadn’t believed she could top that moment, or be more radiant.

  Then she’d changed for the reception into that hot little red dress he’d seen hanging in the closet, but she’d been too embarrassed about her scar and felt too ugly to wear it.

  She was wearing it now, and that told him something all-important about his wife. Both mentally and physically, she had truly healed.

  That was all that mattered.

  That, and how all those sexy cutouts along the right side of her dress made him wonder just what the hell she was wearing underneath it.

  “Hey, Brody?”

  Oh, that name. “Yes, Mrs. Brody?”

  God, he loved her little giggle. “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere.”

  “Uh-huh.” She shifted in the overcoat that was, sadly, covering up all that pale, silken flesh he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. “So, bottom-lining it, you’re kidnapping me again.”

  “I’m never going to live that shit down,” he sighed before turning onto a side street. Fire trucks, police cars and a healthy offering of other emergency vehicles were at the end of the street, and he began to smile. Hail, hail, the gang’s all here. “If you must know, I’m bringing you to your wedding present.”

  “Ooh, what is it? Give me a hint.”

  “It’ll eventually be turned into a play park that’ll be named Dallas Park. And it’s going to be created at the end of this street.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her brows shoot up. “A park is going to be named after me?”

  “Yep.”

  “Why? What did I do?”

  “You survived childhood. Take a look at where we are,” he added and parked behind a news van out of San Antonio. When she looked out at the street beyond the windshield, he heard her sharp breath.

  “It’s my old neighborhood.”

  “Yep. And after today, the property values are going to shoot right through the roof, thanks to the Dallas Fund, which I set up the night you showed me your old house all those months ago. It’s taken a while to get everything ready. Not to mention the family who owned it and the family who owned the place next door to it totally gouged me when it came to selling me their properties, but whatever.”

  “Wait, why did you buy the neighbor’s house?”

  “Because their lot, your old house, and the empty field behind both properties all add up to about three acres. I wanted Dallas Park to have a little elbow room.”

  ”Oh.” She turned to stare blankly at the neighbor’s place. “I used to play in that field. I almost stepped on a rattlesnake just beyond that rise over there.”

  He made a mental note to make sure he had the park planners keep a sharp eye out for rattlesnake dens in the area. “Then the next holdup was the EPA, because apparently everything that’s about to happen at this site must go according to code,” he went on while she turned to look at him like she’d never seen him before. “And then I had to organize three outlying counties that wanted to take part in today’s activities. But I finally got all that legal shit done, so after today you and I will be dealing with the same design engineers who created Discovery Playground in Washington. It’s a great interactive park for both able-bodied and handicapped kids, and since we don’t have one of those in Bitterthorn, I thought Dallas Park would be a great opportunity to make one. But first we’ve got to clear some space.”

  “Wow,” she whispered, dazedly shaking her head as he opened the truck door. “All I got you are some new custom-made boots from that dude you like so much.”

  “Awesome, I’ve been meaning to get some new boots. Thank you, baby.” Grinning, he went around and helped her out of the truck, and was pleased when he got a healthy glimpse of thigh before she landed beside him and buttoned her coat. “Let’s go see what’s going on.”

  “Uh, we’d better not. There’s obviously a fire or an emergency or something going on...”

  “There’s nothing going on without us. Come on.” Ignoring her quizzical look, he took her hand in his and headed for a now-familiar face. “Afternoon, Chief Sawyer. How’re we doing?”

  “The first house on the list is ready to go, Mr. Brody, and the house next door to it will be used for another live burn tomorrow.”

  “Live burn?” Dallas muttered beside him, looking confused.

  “Fire Chief Jeffrey Sawyer, this is my wife, Dallas,” Killian introduced, watching Dallas take the measure of the older man decked out in full fireman’s gear. “This is her surprise wedding present, so she doesn’t know what’s going on here today. Would you like to explain it?”

  “Certainly.” The fire chief bowed toward her in a surprisingly courtly manner. “Mrs. Brody, your husband really knows how to do right by his community. He’s donated these two houses here on the end of the street to the local fire department, so that we can train our new recruits on what it feels like to be in an actual house fire.”

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, and when she turned to him, he saw in her eyes the dawning memory of that night so long ago.

  I’m trying to talk myself out of fire-bombing that house over there on the end...

  “We’ll have several controlled burns,” Fire Chief Sawyer went on. “Five in the first house there on the end, and four tomorrow in the house next door to it.”

  Killian tilted his head. “Why the uneven number?”

  “Your special request for the first house is what added a burn area to today’s schedule. As a matter of fact, our ignitions expert just finished setting it up.”

  Killian nodded. “Sounds like we’re just in time, then.”

  “Your timing’s perfect.” Sawyer turned his attention back to Dallas. “I’m told you used to live in that house there on the end, Mrs. Brody?”

  “I did,” she said softly, her eyes on the front door while her hand tightened on Killian’s.

  “Well then, why don’t you and your husband do one last walkthrough together? Say goodbye to the old homestead in style.”

  “All right.” The faint anxiety in her expression vanished under a wave of determination. “I’d love that.”

  “They took those sorry-ass hedges out for safety purposes.” Killian let Dallas precede him up the cement walkway, his gaze never leaving her as he spoke. He didn’t even know what he was saying; all he could focus on was gauging her reactions as they walked back into the house of her nightmares.
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br />   Not that she’d had any nightmares lately. Immediately post-op she’d had some real screamers, but that had been due to trauma and medication, more than anything. As she’d healed, the peaceful nights where she’d slept straight through became the norm, not the exception. Every night that passed without her mind torturing her with terrors was a personal victory in his book, telling him that he was on the right track by giving her all the love and stability she needed.

  “My, my. Love what they’ve done with the place,” Dallas drawled, wrinkling her nose. He didn’t blame her. The mingled scents of hay and plywood clogged the air, which made sense; the front room was empty except for a mess of hay bales and wooden pallets stacked to the ceiling in the far corner. “I see the last owners got rid of the pea-green carpet that used to be here, and traded it in for hospital green-gray linoleum.” She gave him a wide-eyed look that made him chuckle. “It’s like this freaking house is cursed to endure owners that have unprecedented bad taste.”

  “Not for much longer.” He poked his head into the kitchen as they passed, and saw another burn pile ready to go. A quick run-through showed two more piles of fire fuel—one in the garage, and one in the master bedroom.

  But he wasn’t interested in those.

  When Dallas stopped by a closed door that had a life-sized cutout of Captain America on it, he came to a stop with her.

  Showtime.

  “Go on in, baby.”

  Slowly she swung the door open. Thanks to Des’s help, Killian knew this bedroom behind the living room had been Dallas’s, so he kept a close eye on her as she walked inside, her steps echoing faintly. She looked around the empty white walls brightened by the winter sun shining palely through the unadorned windows, before her attention zeroed in on the closed closet door.