by Rita Herron
Alison began organizing her desk before she left. "You know, my ego is taking a real beating here."
Vivica chuckled. "Your ego will be fine, especially when Brady comes to his senses."
Alison said goodbye, hung up and grabbed her keys. Brady was going to be surprised when she showed up at the hospital to pick him up.
* * *
Brady guzzled a bottle of water while he waited for Vivica to pick him up. The last thing he felt like doing was going to try on a tux, but he wanted to make his sister's wedding perfect for her. After all, as grueling as her therapy sessions were, he had to admit he was making progress, all due to Vivica's encouragement. His leg felt stronger every day, and adding the weight machines at the gym had rebuilt his upper body strength.
Of course, his libido was in worse shape than ever. Seeing Alison at the pool only made him want her more, but he'd have to live with that ache. Another week and he'd return for his evaluation. He'd probably be pushing desk duty for the next month. Then his enlistment time would be up and he'd have to decide what to do with his life.
A pink Cadillac drove up and he did a double take, then laughed. Wacky Wiley. He'd obviously driven Mimi to the hospital. The two of them got out, and Wiley helped Mimi climb the stairs.
"Hey, Brady," Mimi called.
"You're not here to deliver, are you?"
Mimi laughed. "No, I just came to meet Seth for our Lamaze class. Dad drove me so we wouldn't have two cars."
Wiley placed his hand on Mimi's back. "I told her she ought not to be driving this far along."
Mimi shook her head. "Men. If Dad and Seth had anything to do with it, they'd put me in a plastic bubble until this baby arrives."
Wiley looked haggard. "We can't help it if we're protective."
Mimi hugged her father. "I know, Dad, but relax and stop worrying. And thanks for the ride." She turned and waddled inside.
Brady stared after Mimi, suddenly envisioning his own wife pregnant. Alison. The two of them coming to the hospital. He'd be protective, too.
Wiley leaned against the post, his breathing ragged.
"Are you all right, Mr. Hartwell?"
Wiley dabbed at the perspiration with a lemon-yellow handkerchief. "I will be when that baby gets here. You can't imagine what it's like to worry about your kids."
Sadness gnawed at Brady. No, if he divorced Alison, he'd probably never have children. He couldn't see himself marrying another woman.
Wiley cleared his throat. "I'm glad I ran into you, son."
Brady looked at him in surprise. "Excuse me?"
"I've been wanting to talk to you, ever since that day at the parade."
Brady crunched the water bottle in his hand and tossed it in the garbage.
Wiley pointed to the steps and they both sat down. "I hear you've done well in the Air Force, earned your flying license."
"Yes, sir," Brady, said, feeling like a fake. "I'm a first lieutenant."
Wiley nodded. "Ali said you always wanted to fly. Glad to see you made something of yourself."
Brady dangled his hands over his knees, watching the cars pass, hoping Vivica would hurry up.
"I hope there aren't any hard feelings between us about that night," Wiley said.
He didn't have to say which night. Brady knew.
"I love my girls, you see. They're the only things that really matter to me." Wiley dusted a fleck of dirt from his paisley shirt. "I know I'm a loud old man and folks think I love that car dealership, but let me tell you, son, it's just a way to make a living. Those girls, though, they're what my life's been all about. I gave up the service to be with them."
Brady angled his head, his throat feeling slightly thick at the emotions he heard in Wiley's voice.
Wiley cleared his own throat. "When I found out you and my baby girl married that night, I went off the deep end. But I thought I was doing the right thing, protecting Ali." He hesitated, his face flushing. "She was getting ready to go to college and I knew I was going to lose her."
Brady smiled. "I think I understand. My dad gave up a career in the Air Force to be with us."
"It's all worth it." A crooked smile curved Wiley's mouth, accentuating the age lines. "I've often wondered if I was wrong about the annulment, though."
Brady's head jerked up. "Excuse me?"
"Yep. I still think Ali was too young to get hitched, but hell, what does love know about age? Sometimes you meet the right person when you're young, sometimes you might be ninety." He rubbed his chin, the whiskers bristling. "I reckon what I'm saying is that if you and Ali pick up again, I won't stand in your way this time."
"Uh … well, I appreciate that, but—"
Wiley stood with a grin. "Hey, there's my baby now."
Brady looked up in surprise as Alison parked in the front row of the parking lot, exited her car and walked toward them. She seemed surprised to see him talking to her father.
"Dad? Brady, what's going on?"
Wiley grabbed her in a bear hug. "Brady and I were just having a little man-to-man talk."
Alison frowned and wrapped her hands around her waist.
Brady stood. "I'd better go call Vivi. She's late."
"Brady, wait." Alison grabbed his hand. "Vivi's not coming. I'm driving you to the tux place."
Wiley pounded him on the back. "See you later, son. Nice talking to you." He tugged at the waist of his pants as he sauntered away.
Alison waved to her father, then turned to Brady, her eyebrow arched. "What in the world was that all about?"
* * *
Alison studied Brady as they settled into her Jeep. "Brady, you didn't answer my question."
Brady fastened his seat belt, his expression tight. "I really could drive myself, you know."
"I know. But Vivica wanted me to personally check out the formal wear, and it's silly for both of us to drive. Now, what gives with you and my dad?"
Brady fiddled with the radio. "It was weird. He sort of apologized for that night."
Alison was so shocked she nearly drove over the curb. She quickly righted the car and glanced at Brady. "You're kidding, right?"
He shook his head. "Surprised me, too."
They lapsed into silence as she contemplated Wiley's change in attitude. "How's therapy going?" Alison finally asked.
He instinctively rubbed his injured leg. "Vivica's grueling, but it's getting better."
"What was the prognosis for recovery?"
His jaw tightened even more. "The doctor said I'll always have a slight limp. As far as being able to run a marathon, that's probably out."
"You never liked to run anyway, Brady. You preferred air travel."
A small smile curved his mouth, but sadness tinged his eyes. "Not being physically fit isn't conducive to a career in the Air Force, though. Not unless you want to push paper."
"You could still be a part of the military. If you stay here and run that print shop, you'll certainly be pushing papers."
Brady frowned but remained silent. Alison drove through the traffic, her shoulders tense. For such a virile man, being physically limited had to be terribly frustrating.
A few minutes later, they parked at the formal wear shop and Alison led the way inside. A tall, rail-thin salesman in his early thirties, dressed in a designer suit and funky glasses, helped her find the tux style Vivica and Joe had chosen.
"A great selection. The double layer lapel offers a sophisticated look. You like the notched collar?"
"Yes." Alison ran a thumb over the fabric. "Let's try the five-button coat."
"Yes, madame." He motioned to Brady. "We need to get your measurements, sir."
Alison watched as Brady stood at attention, his height topping the salesman's by a good six inches. Even in a chambray shirt, his broad shoulders looked amazingly wide, his arms fit and muscular. He stepped into the fitting room and Alison sucked in a deep breath when he emerged a few moments later. Tall, dark and handsome didn't begin to describe him. The black jacket accentu
ated his olive complexion and his jet-black hair.
She wanted him to take it off.
"I can't get this damn button fastened," Brady said, struggling with the neck of the shirt.
"Here, let me help." The salesman had disappeared, so Alison reached for the button, her hand brushing his shoulder. His muscles were so defined, his chest was like a hard wall. His masculine, earthy scent wafted toward her, making her dizzy. She had an insane urge to kiss him, to unbutton the shirt, toss it into the dressing room and show him how much she wanted him.
She felt his muscles tense as she touched his neck. "Relax," she whispered, unable to control the throaty, aroused sound. "I'm not going to choke you."
Brady chuckled, a deep rumble that sent a thousand delicious sensations skittering through her. "I'm not so sure. That bow tie looks pretty scary."
Alison laughed and slipped the button through its hole, her breath hitching as she stared at his neck, the bottom of his chin, that broad jaw with the hint of dark beard stubble visible in the overhead lights. Brady had been a young man when he'd left Sugar Hill, but he'd matured into an adult. She took the bow tie and began to fasten it, her hands trembling as he tensed even more.
He was so close his breath bathed her face and she could feel the heat emanating from his skin. Suddenly his hands covered hers, holding them to his chest. She felt the rapid beating of his heart, the warmth of his desire in his look, the evidence of his arousal against her thigh.
His big hand came toward her, one finger gently tracing her cheek. His eyes told her everything – how much he wanted her, all the things he wanted to do to her.
Alison couldn't resist any longer. She stood on tiptoe, pulled his face close to hers and whispered in his ear, "Brady, I want you." A tingle rippled up her spine when his labored breathing brushed her cheek. "Please, let's go somewhere and be together."
* * *
Chapter 14
« ^ »
Brady gazed into Alison's eyes, ready to take her up on her whispered offer, but everything happened at once.
The salesman returned. Alison's cell phone rang. And the fire alarm sounded.
They both jerked apart to see the manager's beefy face turning red. "We're going to have to evacuate."
Alison answered her phone as she headed to the door. "Dad, hey, no, everything's okay." She paused. "Yes, it's a fire alarm. It's probably just a test, Dad. I'll call you back when we're outside."
Brady ducked into the dressing room and changed in sixty seconds. As soon as he emerged, he grabbed Alison's hand and they followed the crowd hastily exiting the mall. As they reached the car, a fire truck screeched up. The parking lot had fast become a scene of mass hysteria, and a thin stream of smoke billowed from a candle shop two doors down.
"Gosh, I hope no one is hurt," Alison said.
Brady nodded, then sighed in relief when a fireman exited, announced they'd contained the blaze with no injuries, and explained the cause. Brady and Alison found the salesman who had assisted them standing beside a lamppost, shaking.
"Mr. Brentano?" Alison asked.
"Yes?" He smoothed down his suit, gathering his composure. "We have your measurements, sir. Just stop by in a couple of days, and we'll make sure everything fits."
Brady thanked him, and Alison handed him a business card. "Please call me to confirm when the groomsmen come in," she stated. "There are only a few days left before the wedding and we don't want any last-minute surprises."
The man agreed, and Brady and Alison headed to the car. "I'd better call Dad back right away," Alison said. "If I don't, he'll be here in a panic."
Before she could finish the sentence, Wiley barreled into the parking lot near them in a loaded Trans Am and jumped out, his lime-green jacket flapping about him.
"Are you okay, honey?"
"Yes, Dad, calm down. Everyone's fine."
"Where's the fire?"
"They've contained it. It turned out somebody lit a match in the candle store and things got out of hand."
Wiley gave her a once-over, then hugged her to him, and Alison laughed. "Dad, you worry too much."
Wiley reared back and ran a hand through his hair. "Listen here, you're my baby and I'll worry about you till you're old and gray." He finally noticed Brady and hesitated. "I'm glad you're here."
"Excuse me?" Brady jammed one hand into his pocket.
Wiley laid a hand on Brady's shoulder. "Listen, son, I had a pilot lined up to run this advertisement for me tomorrow, but he had a family emergency. I was wondering if you'd do me a favor and fly the ad for me."
Brady's stomach turned over. "Um, Mr. Hartwell, I—"
"I'll pay you good money, son. The local news is all set to cover it. All you have to do is fly low, waving this sign over the dealership—"
"I can't, Mr. Hartwell. I'm really sorry, but you'll have to find someone else."
Wiley argued with him, promising to double the salary, but Brady made up several excuses. When Wiley left, Brady's stomach clenched at the disappointment in Alison's eyes.
"Why won't you help Dad?" Alison asked.
Brady tensed. What could he say? He opened his mouth to offer her the same lame excuses he had her father, but he could see in her eyes that she hadn't believed him.
"Are you holding a grudge because of what he did to us four years ago?"
Brady shook his head. He couldn't let her believe he was so callous he'd harbor a grudge against her father. What kind of man would that make him?
"Brady, please talk to me." She laid a palm against his cheek. "A few minutes ago, I practically threw myself at you." Her voice broke. "The least you could do is be honest with me."
He felt like a heel.
He had hurt her once by cutting her out of his life without an explanation, and she was right. He owed her the truth. Once she knew how he'd let his friend down, she wouldn't want him anymore. Then she'd accept that their marriage was over, and move on.
He took her hand in his, and said in a low voice, "Okay, let's go to the lake. Then I'll tell you everything."
* * *
Alison had never seen Brady look so grave. She parked along the lake at the special spot where they used to come during high school. Nothing much had changed – oak and pine trees still shaded the lake, the scents of honeysuckle and wildflowers filled the air. The sun hung low, its orange light glinting off Brady's face as he settled on the ground. He picked up a rock and threw it, watched it sail across the lake and splash, then reached for another. Frogs croaked and crickets chirped around them. She could almost feel the tension in his body, the anger and confusion and pain radiating from him.
Alison studied the water and let the silence envelop them, hoping the peacefulness of the lake would seep into him, hoping the calm serenity would enable her to accept what he had to say.
He was going to tell her he didn't love her anymore and to stop throwing herself at him. She had to brace herself.
"I … I'm sorry I couldn't help your father."
"Couldn't or wouldn't?"
He glanced at her, then down at the rock, rolling it between his fingers. "Couldn't."
"I don't understand."
"It has to do with the accident." His breathing sounded harsh in the quiet. "I told you my best friend died in the crash."
"He was the guy from Missouri you wrote me about?" He nodded and Alison took a steadying breath, willing him to continue. It took him several seconds before he spoke again.
"Josh and I met my first year in flight school. He was a good guy, just wanted to make a better life for himself."
"He sounds a lot like you."
Brady nodded, his gaze fixed on the lake. But Alison sensed his mind was miles away.
"We were sent on a lot of training maneuvers, simulated combat battles."
"That was when you first stopped writing."
"Yeah." He tossed another rock in the water, and waited until it pinged and sank before he continued. "On the last training exercise, we we
re both getting cocky. We were the best in our flight unit. Josh had quick instincts, I had steady hands. We were flying fighter jets in a simulated combat situation, Josh decided to do some fancy stunts to show off." Brady closed his eyes, his voice husky. "But something went wrong. Josh got caught in the backwash from another plane, accelerated too quickly, lost control, and almost hit the side of the mountain. His belly clipped it, he lost a wing, then engine power. He thought he could land the jet but he couldn't make it. I told him to eject."
Alison twisted her hands in her lap, aching for Brady. She could see that he was tormented by the memories, had relived them a thousand times.
"But his eject button malfunctioned. He was yelling over the radio. I tried to talk him through it, but he panicked. The plane … it went down with Josh in it."
"Oh, Brady." She pulled his hand into hers. It felt limp, his fingers cold, as if the life had drained from him. And in a way, she realized, it had.
"I managed to pull up in time, barely avoided hitting a military building. By the time I landed and made it to his plane, it exploded."
"That's how you were hurt? You were trying to save him?"
Brady didn't respond. He'd lapsed into a world of his own. "I had to get him out of there. I had to save him."
Alison squeezed Brady's hand, imagining the horror of what he was describing.
"I saw Josh, the jet in flames, the smoke billowing everywhere." He pulled away from her, cradled his face in his hands, obviously trying to block the images. "I could smell the gas, the smoke, the burning jet. Then there was Josh's face, covered in blood. The fire was eating at him, licking up his clothes, singeing his hair." Brady's voice broke, but he continued, choking and crying now. "I tried to get to him, to pull him out, but the fire was too quick, and the plane kept burning."
Alison couldn't stand it anymore. She pulled him into her arms and cradled him against her, stroking his hair and rubbing his back while he wept.
"It was my fault, don't you see? If Josh and I hadn't tried to best each other, he might have tried to eject sooner."