by Rita Herron
"Well, hello there, Alison. How's everything going?"
"Fine, Mrs. Broussard. You can relax, everything's set for the wedding."
Disappointment mushroomed in his stomach. So, she'd come by to discuss wedding plans, not to see him.
"Is Brady here?"
He jerked his head toward the door. She did want to see him!
"Yes, I'll go get him."
"I'm right here, Mom." Brady walked into the den, buttoning the last button on his shirt. "Hi, Alison."
A beatific smile warmed her face. "Hi." His mother glanced from Alison to him, confusion wrinkling her brow.
"Did you need to talk to me about the wedding plans?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," Alison said, mischief lighting her eyes. "We need to go for a final fitting for your tux."
He nodded and kissed his mother's cheek. "I'll be back later."
"Shall I hold dinner?"
"Actually, I thought Brady and I might grab something while we're out," Alison said. "That is, if you don't mind."
"Of course not, you kids enjoy yourselves. I'm going to work on Vivica's wedding gift. I'm cross-stitching a sampler with her wedding date on it."
"That sounds lovely," Alison said.
Brady gestured toward the door and they walked outside. The weather was hot and dry, as it had been most of the summer, the barest hint of a breeze bringing the scent of his mother's roses from the porch trellis.
"Are we really going for a tux fitting?" Brady asked as he climbed into Alison's Jeep.
Alison took him by the collar and pulled him toward her, then kissed him soundly. "No, I'm kidnapping you for the night, and we're going to finish what we started this morning."
* * *
Alison had thought of nothing all day but being in Brady's arms. After seeing that wedding invitation, she'd found her hopes for their future escalating hourly. She wanted to tell him she knew his secret, that she'd seen the invitation, but she bit back the words, not wanting to spoil the surprise.
In four days they would renew their vows.
Tonight, they would renew their passion.
And even if Brady didn't come around right after they made love, their joining might give her more time, especially if what Vivica had told her about the technicality during the waiting period was true. Vivica wasn't sure, but she thought if they slept together, the thirty days started over.
Tingling with heady thoughts, Alison put in a Sting CD, one she knew was Brady's favorite, and drove toward the lake. With the sides to the Wrangler removed, the wind blew her hair around her face, teasing her with Brady's masculine scent as well.
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You look beautiful tonight, Ali."
It's because I'm so happy. "You look pretty handsome yourself."
He smiled – a real smile, for the first time since he'd returned. The sight did strange things to her insides and made her foot heavy on the gas pedal. Within minutes, they'd spread a blanket in a secluded area by the lake in the heart of a thicket of trees. They lay on the blanket and talked while dusk settled and darkness descended upon them. The moon spilled light on the grass and water, dappling rays across Brady's face, reminding her of all the times they'd been here together.
She set out a picnic of wine, shrimp salad, steak kabobs, and doughnuts for dessert.
"Doughnuts?" Brady held up the paper bag filled with chocolate éclairs, crème-filled doughnuts and coffee.
"I was thinking about our wedding night. We had doughnuts that night instead of cake, remember?"
He nodded, emotions shining in his eyes. "Of course, I remember."
She lit a candle. "And this is for all those candles I lit when I said a prayer for you."
His gaze turned more intense, his expression a mixture of hunger and dark passion. They ate and sipped wine as they stretched out on the blanket and stared at the stars.
Brady took her hand in his, threading their fingers together and cradling them against his chest. "Ali, you know I can't make any promises right now."
She bit down on her lip, his breathing raspy in her ears.
"I still have some big decisions to make about my career."
As long as he made them with her.
She rolled to her side and propped her head on her hand, gazing up at him. His color had returned and he'd gained a little weight since he'd been home. Some of the hollowness had dissipated from his eyes, as well.
She traced a finger down his jaw. "I have faith in you, Brady. I always have."
Her quietly spoken promise of trust seemed to touch him.
"It's not easy, when I think about Josh…"
"Shh." She pressed her finger to his lips. "If Josh loved flying as much as you and you shared this competitive spirit, then he wouldn't want you to give up."
Brady pressed his lips together and nodded.
"He'd want you to live, Brady, to have everything you've always wanted." She reached out and traced his lips with her finger.
He bit down on her fingertip, then pulled it into his mouth and suckled it.
She wanted nothing tonight except to take away all the pain he'd felt the last few months. To give him pleasure. So she pressed her mouth against his, drove her tongue inside, and began to undress him.
* * *
Chapter 16
« ^ »
Brady had wondered if making love with Alison would be as wonderful as he'd remembered.
It was even better.
She tore at his clothes, plundered his mouth with her tongue, raked kisses along his naked chest and yanked off his pants and underwear. He didn't have time to worry about his scars, because she lowered her head and kissed his battered thigh before he could stop her.
"Alison, God, you don't have to do that."
She didn't listen.
She gently kissed the length of his thigh, massaged his calf, sat up astride him and tossed her flimsy red blouse to the blanket. "I can't believe you thought I'd care."
Like a fool, he found tears suddenly filling his eyes. All those months of being separated haunted him, of lying in the hospital, thinking she'd never want him again, that he'd lost her forever. Embarrassed, he bit the inside of his cheek and turned his head away. But Alison leaned over, framed his face with her hands and forced him to look at her. Then she brushed a tender kiss along his eyelids, and the emotions clogged his throat.
"I love you, Brady. I always have and I always will. For better or worse."
Before he could reply, she moistened her lips with her tongue and raised an eyebrow, giving him a mischievous look that forced him to smile. With a flick of her thumb, she dropped her bra beside her blouse, baring herself for his eyes to feast upon. And feast he did. His gaze lingered on the perfect curve of her breasts, on the dark pointed nubs, which he had to touch. He rolled each peak between his thumb and forefinger, smiling when she moaned and threw back her head, her long hair shimmering along her shoulders.
As an eighteen-year-old lover, she'd been giving and tender and incredibly sweet. As a woman she was entrancing and passionate and very erotic. He buried his face in her midriff, kissing and bathing her bare skin with his tongue, his hands skimming a path over her body, teasing her and finding her secrets. She rubbed herself against him, bringing him to a fevered pitch of arousal as her legs stroked his calves. With a rasp of pleasure, she lowered her head, letting her dark hair fall down to brush his chest, and drove her mouth downward again. His body sizzled with desire and hunger as she kissed the insides of his thighs, and finally, after long moments of torture, found his sex.
He threaded his fingers in her hair, closed his eyes and groaned, the intensity of his pleasure beyond anything he'd ever felt. Her hands slipped up to grab his, to hold him in her prison of torment as she brought him to the brink. And just before he thought he would explode with ecstasy, she rose up, shimmied out of her panties and angled herself so he could see their bodies as they joined. Brady's heart pounded as she lowered hers
elf on him, gliding along his body and moving so seductively he growled her name. Then she shoved his hands above his head, increasing the tempo of their rhythm, making him beg for her to let him touch her. She finally released his hands, and he instantly cradled her breasts, brought his lips to her hardened peaks and suckled her. She writhed and called out his name, clutching at his chest and crying out with her release. His heart squeezed at the beautiful sound, then their gazes locked, and love and passion darkened her eyes as he buried himself deep inside her and sailed home.
* * *
Alison curled into Brady's arms, savoring every moment. His labored breathing mingled with the sounds of birds twittering in the trees, at crickets chirping. He hugged her to him, his big arm draped possessively around her shoulders. His other hand traced slow, lazy circles on her back, occasionally dipping lower to the indentation of her spine and waist. Should she tell him that, for her, anyway, this changed things about the divorce? Or would he think she'd tricked him?
"I wish we could stay like this forever," she whispered.
His chuckle rumbled near her ear. "So do I." Then he pulled her gently back, cupped her face with his hands and kissed her again. This time the kiss was so tender and full of emotion that Alison knew their love would last forever.
* * *
The next morning Brady sat up in bed, flexing his injured leg, the memory of Alison's sweet body pumping adrenaline through him. Last night had been real, not a dream or fantasy – he'd loved her over and over again, had memorized each contour of her body, each little sound she'd made when he'd brought her to ecstasy.
Alison believed in him.
Dammit, he was trying to believe in himself again. He owed her that much. He had to fight for himself and for her.
Brady gathered his courage, showered and wolfed down a muffin, then drove to the small airport outside town, determined to face his demons. George Frost was already there, preparing the Cessna. "You sure you don't want to take her up by yourself?" George asked.
Brady shook his head. "No, I should wait until I get clearance from my doctor. But I'd like to take a ride, if you've got the time."
"Sure, I can show you the county needing medical flight services."
"Great." Brady's heart was pounding so hard he thought he might have a heart attack. He buckled up, put on his headset and listened as George checked the weather report.
George scanned the checklist, making sure the plane was set to run. Plenty of fuel. Engine checked out. Controls working.
Brady took several deep breaths, trying to relax, mentally going through the routine with George. The engine coughed and sputtered to life as the plane moved down the taxiway to the runway, then built up speed. Brady's pulse hammered, the familiar exhilaration of taking off seeping into him, the trees and landscape growing smaller as they lifted off and began to climb. Along with the adrenaline rush, waves of fear riddled him as they soared above the town. He realized he was holding his breath, and exhaled, praying he wouldn't have a panic attack.
But as the mountains shifted into view and George pointed out the isolated areas that needed medical services, Brady's fears escalated. He could picture Josh trying to avoid the mountain, pulling up, the plane crashing, fire exploding into the sky. The ambulance…
"There's Sugar Hill General," George was saying, "but of course, for severe cases – burn victims, etcetera – we'd transfer patients to one of the larger, better-equipped facilities in Atlanta."
Sweat beaded on Brady's face and trickled down his chin. Had he actually considered not reenlisting, and running the medical flight service?
How in the hell could he do that when flying made him break out in a cold sweat? The sight of an ambulance or another burn victim might send him over the edge. If he panicked midflight or at the sight of an injured patient, the results could be catastrophic. Defeat settled on his shoulders.
He couldn't live with anyone else's death on his conscience.
* * *
"I'm telling you, Vivi, he feels guilty about the accident and he's punishing himself," Alison said the next day, after they'd discussed the checklist for the wedding. She hated to disclose something Brady had told her in confidence, but felt Vivica should know the extent of his guilt. "It's affecting his ability to fly."
"I figured as much." Vivica checked the thank-you cards Alison had had preprinted for after the ceremony. "I'm glad he opened up to you, Ali. That's a good sign."
So was the fact that he'd made love to her. But they still hadn't discussed the divorce.
"I'll try to encourage him to talk to me about flying during therapy this afternoon."
"Please don't tell him I spoke with you about this. I don't want him to feel like I betrayed his trust." Alison closed the planning book, making a mental note to check with Mimi about the catering status. With only three days until the wedding, she wanted to make sure all the details were ironed out. "But I'm worried about him, Vivi."
"Don't worry, I won't even hint that we've talked." Vivica grabbed the lingerie she'd bought for her honeymoon.
"Did you get some racy stuff?" Alison asked.
Vivica nodded. "Joe's going to be shocked." She yanked out a pair of silver fishnet hose and a black teddy, along with his-and-hers fire-engine-red thongs.
"Wow. Where are you going on your honeymoon?"
"I don't know," Vivica said. "Joe said it's a surprise, but to pack light." She waved the undies. "So I'm ready."
Alison laughed. "How romantic. Where is he, anyway? I thought he was coming back to town today."
Vivica frowned. "Me, too, but he's still trying to tie up that project." She checked her watch. "Uh-oh, gotta go. My patients are waiting."
"Don't forget we're giving you a bridal shower tomorrow evening."
"Followed by a wild bachelorette party, I hope," Vivica said with a laugh.
"Of course." Alison waved goodbye, her gaze resting on the brochures the travel agent had left in the shop. The Caribbean? Rome? Paris? Hawaii?
They all sounded romantic. It was ironic that she still had a husband after four years, and for at least three more days, but she'd never had a honeymoon. Feeling wistful, she crammed the brochures in her purse. Maybe she'd put those in her hope chest. And if she and Brady renewed their vows after Vivica's wedding, she'd give him some ideas on where to go for their long-overdue getaway.
* * *
"Son, do you have a minute?"
Brady glanced up from the pamphlet he'd been working on and nodded. Might as well get this talk with his mother over with; he'd been stalling for days.
His mother set a cup of coffee in front of him before he could even ask for it. "I missed you at breakfast."
Brady sipped the hot coffee. "I had some things I wanted to do early."
"Were you at the gym again?"
"No, I went out to the airport on Route 9."
"What were you doing out there?"
Brady frowned at her question, noticing for the first time since he'd been home how much she'd aged. And how lonely she seemed, almost desperate for someone to talk to. She should get out more. "Hannah Hartwell mentioned Sugar Hill needing a medical flight service, and asked me to talk to the manager of the flight service about it."
"Oh." A nervous expression flitted across his mother's face.
"What's wrong, Mom?"
"Nothing, dear. I just wondered what you'd decided about coming back here to run the shop."
As if he'd thought about anything else last night except Alison.
After this morning, Brady didn't know why he wasn't committing to his mother. He'd certainly proven he wasn't capable of flying again. But he just couldn't run the shop.
"I don't think so, Mom. You know I have to return to duty for another month. I'm thinking of teaching classes."
Disappointment filled her eyes, but she brightened quickly. "All right, then Mr. Fairbank from church is going to help me at the shop for a while."
"That's good, Mom."
&nbs
p; His mother placed a hand on his shoulder. "You won't be doing anything dangerous when you go back, will you?"
"No, Mom, I'll be pushing paper for a while. Why?"
Her chin quivered. "’Cause I couldn't stand to lose you. I already lost your father, and you're so much like him, honey, and…" Her voice trailed off, tears overflowing.
Brady stood, cleared his throat and pulled her into his arms. His mother was lonely, he realized, and still grieving over his father. At last Brady understood why his father had left military service. He'd given part of his life to the Air Force and decided to devote the other part to his family. "Shh, Mom, it's okay. I'm here and I'm fine now."
She lifted a hand and touched his cheek. "I know I'm a foolish old woman, but I've enjoyed having you here, Brady. Your dad would be so proud of you."
Brady's throat closed. If his father was alive and knew what had happened with Josh, would he be proud? Would he want Brady to stay here and take over the family business or go back to face his fear?
* * *
Later that day after therapy, Brady was so exhausted he took a nap. Once again his sleep turned to nightmares.
He'd taken lessons to fly a chopper, and was flying the medical flight helicopter. He had tried to land in a remote part of the mountains to rescue some stranded hikers, when another call came in.
"Urgent! Three children and their mother are trapped in a burning house on Fleet Road
."
He stared out the window. He could see smoke billowing through a thicket of trees. Flames shot from the old wooden cabin, quickly eating it like dry brush. He had to take the chopper down, had to hurry.
He tried to land, but his vision blurred. Panic seized him. The controls slipped from his hands. The chopper spun out of control. Someone on the radio yelled his name.
He jerked back to reality, took the controls, whipped the chopper over the trees, dove down to land in the clearing. Hurry, hurry, you have to save them. He ran, panting and heaving. Josh's bloody face appeared in the woods, and Brady shook his head to clear his vision. The kids, the woman, they needed saving. He ran on, limping and pushing at the brush. Fire shot toward the sky. The scent of smoke filled the air. Heat radiated from the burning cabin, scorching his face. His ears were ringing, Josh's cry for help bleeding into the present. Another shrill scream pierced the air – a child's scream echoing through the canyon.