Reality pushed hard on him.
* * *
Glenna couldn’t help but make the most of the chance to study Broderick as he walked across the cabin’s living space to refill his coffee. With his back to her, he reached for the carafe, his shoulders heaving with a heavy sigh.
In that moment, she realized that she’d pushed on a wound in his personal life that hadn’t healed, still caused so much pain. Part of her considered giving him space, but a larger part of her accepted that she needed to know more. With his proposition looming between them and the DNA test due any moment, she had decisions to make.
Despite telling him no, she couldn’t help but consider his offer of starting something long-term with him, to join forces for Fleur and the company—and for that explosive attraction between them. What he said made sense. But still she balked, craving a sign.
Wanting to understand him better.
Needing to tend to this wound he’d been dealt.
She understood what it was like to be emotionally raw. And really understood the value of sharing the painful memories, of giving them breath and life. So difficult, but she would push a little bit more, a little more gently.
Glenna set aside her laptop and shoved back her chair to join him at the counter. She rested a tentative hand on his solid biceps. “I’m sorry if I pushed too much with the personal questions.”
“No need to apologize. We’ve crossed a line here today and there’s no going back to the way things were.”
Oh Lord. The line. She’d known that at the time, but it didn’t really sink in until this moment. In this space between syllables where she and Broderick were undefined.
Kota trotted up behind her, his white-and-black snout finding her fingertips. Scratching between his ears, Glenna waited for whatever Broderick would say next. For wherever this conversation was going.
In spite of having just downed an apple pastry, Broderick pulled out the leftover stew from the fridge without looking at her. He grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and a ladle from a drawer. Eyes flicking toward her, he pointed at the food. An offer.
She shook her head, anchored herself by stroking the fluffy fur on Kota’s head. Broderick shrugged, still not speaking as he poured a few scoops into the bowl.
Maybe she should stop waiting for him to share and instead offer up something of her past. For the first time, it dawned on her how closed off she’d been, expecting everything to come from him. Afraid of being vulnerable.
Glenna poured another cup of coffee, added sweetener along with half and half. Absently stirring it, she realized what she had to do, what she needed to share, how to connect with him in hopes of coming to her decision. “We rigged a zip line through the backyard over a frozen pond.”
He paused midbite. “You did...what?”
“A zip line. We were young engineers and ecologically minded kids. We figured out the aerodynamics.” She held the mug with two hands, blew on it to cool it. Then took a sip and nodded at him.
His face relaxed, seemed less contorted than before. “I imagine that was quite a ride.”
“We were kids. Our math was good.” She set the mug down, laughing softly. “Our sewing? Not so good. The sling gave way.”
“Ouch. Broken bones?” he asked, pulling the stew from the microwave.
“A fracture and a dunking.” She shuddered at the memory.
“Through the ice?”
She nodded. “It was scary. So scary.”
“You’re the one who went through?”
“Worse. My cousin Sage did. But I knew it had to be my fault.” She’d been the mastermind—the one who’d suggested the zip line. Sage had volunteered to go first, trying to prove she was brave. It had been a rite of passage, one that went terribly awry.
“How did you and your brothers haul her out?”
There had been no option except action. Even now, Glenna could feel her brothers’ grip as she’d gone in after Sage. Her arms reaching and thrashing in the cold water for any trace of her cousin.
“We held on to each other and went in as a human chain until she was safe.”
“You could have all died.”
“She would have done the same for us. We were close. You understand. You have siblings.”
“We were more...competitive. But yes, I like to think we would have gone to any extreme to save each other. Actually, I know we would have.” He looked down at his stew.
Glenna ran a light, encouraging hand down his back. “What about you and your sister Breanna?”
“Ah, so now we get to the heart of what you’re pushing for. You want the emotional grist.”
She chose her words carefully. “Your sister is clearly important to you and yet you and your family don’t mention her very often.”
“It was—is—painful to think about her,” he admitted hoarsely, staring down into his bowl of stew. “Most people don’t know, but we didn’t get a clean goodbye. Long after that crash, we were tormented by calls from sick bastards who wanted to milk us for money with everything from offers to speak to her in the afterlife to people who said they’d seen her. None of those leads turned out, of course. My father had each one investigated, no matter how crazy.”
“But I thought she died in the crash...”
“She did. Her body was—” he choked up “—badly burned. But there were a couple of teeth in the ashes. Her teeth. All evidence pointed to her dying that day and no ransom note ever came. We waited, even hoped for a long while, because at least that hell was better than death.”
“I am so very sorry. I had no idea your family went through that. That had to be difficult for all of you, not having the official closure of saying goodbye to your sister and mother.”
“Mom’s body was thrown from the plane before the fire really took hold. She was already...gone. It was hell, but at least we knew.”
Forget distance and boundaries. Glenna closed the space between them, slid her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “Oh, Broderick, I am so sorry.”
He set aside his stew and held her closer. “My father was always nervous about someone kidnapping us because of his fortune. After the crash, I thought he would lose his mind. He assigned a bodyguard to each of us twenty-four-seven. I can assure you, that gets awkward at school.” He chuckled.
She didn’t. Because her heart was breaking for him. She touched his face, stroking his cheek. He captured her arm to stop her, and slowly, deliberately, kissed the inside of her wrist.
“Glenna, the last thing I want is your pity. The very last thing.”
His mouth sealed over hers with unmistakable possession.
Eleven
After the passionate night they’d shared, Broderick couldn’t imagine they would have the energy to make love again. But already he felt desire building inside him with each stroke of his tongue against hers. His erection throbbed between them. No question, he was ready, eager, wanted to be inside her again.
Morning sunlight streamed through the skylights over them in the kitchen, helping guide him, giving him an even better view of temptation.
Glenna’s arms glided up, her hands behind his neck, fingers feathering lightly. He knew the feel of her touch against his skin, the tips of her fingers teasing along his hairline. Yes, he remembered. And she was everything from all those years ago—and more.
His hands traced her sides, then cradled the sweet curve of her bottom. He lifted her, bringing her flush against him until her feet dangled off the floor. Her personality was so strong and magnificent he sometimes forgot she was so much shorter than him, slighter in frame. She was an oxymoron of delicate power.
Her legs locked around his waist. He carried her to the kitchen table, kissing her every step of the way.
Carefully, he eased her back on the tabletop. A sexy smile spread across her face
in invitation. Her hair fanned across the wood. She looked like a goddess—gorgeous, sexy, strong.
And his for the taking.
His hands stroked her shoulders, her breasts, the smooth flat planes of her stomach, until he swept her silk pajama pants down. Her sigh of anticipation drew a growl of appreciation from him.
Dropping to his knees between her legs, he caressed her, nuzzled, found her with his tongue. Her hands gripped him in encouragement. Each time they were together, he learned more about her body, her wants and her desires. He burned to glean more insights; pleasuring her damn well pleasured him.
With each touch and tease along the tight bundle of nerves, he called on the ways he knew to bring her to completion in an intense rush. Her breath came faster and faster until...
Yes.
Her back arched in pleasure as she bit back cry after cry. Her legs clamped harder at his shoulders, her fingers digging in. He guided her as each aftershock rippled through her, until she relaxed with a sated sigh.
He inched up her body and cradled her face in his hands. “Let’s be together. Really together.”
“You don’t have to say that to get me in bed.” Her eyes were heavy lidded, her cheeks still flushed from her release.
“I noticed. Now say you’re ready to get serious with me.” He cradled a breast in his hand, his thumb stroking over the tightening peak.
She clasped his wrist. “Don’t use sex as leverage.”
“Be with me.” He rested his forehead against hers, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“I heard you the first time.” Easing out from under him, she righted her clothes again. He could feel her body tense as she moved away.
“I’m going to keep asking.” He couldn’t back down from his proposition. Not now. Not after the last few nights together. Not after all their shared history and twined futures.
“Even if it turns out Fleur isn’t your baby, you want me in your life long-term?” Her tone was dark, as sharp as a knife leveled at his heart.
Broderick crossed his arms, staring hard at her. “You think I want to be with you for free babysitting services? I can pay someone for that.”
Child care wasn’t his concern. He had enough money to make sure Fleur had the best care possible, around the clock.
Glenna’s eyes turned melancholy—with a hint of steel. “I think you’re looking for a mother for her, and I’m the one who comes with the least complications.”
She raked back her hair, a shudder falling from her lips down to her toes. Broderick couldn’t help but note how ragged she sounded.
He laughed darkly. “If you actually believe you come without complications then you are not thinking clearly.”
Nothing about their situation was simple. A decades-long family feud, engaged parents...a passion that had danced between them since they were teenagers. Now precious baby Fleur.
“There’s no need to be sarcastic.” She paced away from him. Creating distance. Old habits. Just like a decade ago.
She doubted him? Well, he could dissuade her of that notion. This time, he’d make sure she didn’t walk away.
He followed her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “I’m serious.”
“Then I will rephrase.” Her face was sad, her hair a tousled mess. “You know I’m the person least likely to complicate your life by falling in love with you.”
Ouch. “That’s harsh. And also a weird compliment, if you think every woman is at risk of succumbing to my charms.”
He ran a light finger down her arm. For a moment she leaned toward him. Almost an answer to his call.
Her face softened. “I don’t mean to insinuate that your feelings don’t matter. You’re offering something serious. That’s a big deal. But I know you’re not in love with me.”
Love. A word that only brought pain.
She had to know that. He’d thought his plan would appeal to her. God knows, the idea of a lifelong passionate friendship enticed him. A way to be connected to someone without the emotional risk, without laying bare his heart and having his scars flayed open.
Had he been wrong in his approach with Glenna? If so, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d royally screwed things up when it came to this woman—or to relationships overall. “Is that what you want me to say?”
“No!” She almost shouted the word, then glanced toward the baby’s room. “No,” she said more softly. “I just want you to stop pressuring me. Give me time to think. I hear what you’re saying and how it makes sense. But everything is happening so fast. I need time to sort through the implications. I need time. Please.”
Spinning away before he could answer, she raced back to the baby’s room, the room where Glenna slept, too. Without him.
Strange how he’d been on board with an analytical decision when it came to himself, but hearing that same need for logic come out of Glenna’s mouth was hard to accept.
Eyes averted, she closed the door behind her, making it clear he was not welcome.
* * *
Glenna gave up trying to sleep by five in the morning.
She’d been tossing and turning restlessly all night. The silence in the cabin was deafening. Her fault. She’d kept to her room after her argument with Broderick, stepping out only to get supplies for Fleur. However, the time alone gave her too much room to think. And feel guilty for the way she’d rejected him out of hand.
With heavy, burning eyes, Glenna glanced at the baby. Fleur still slept, her little breaths providing a steady rhythm to the early morning.
Dragging heavy limbs from bed, Glenna wondered again what to think of all this. She made her way to the crib, drinking in the peaceful scene.
She had enough financial means to make it as a single mother if Fleur became her responsibility. But if Fleur was Broderick’s... Sadness slid into her throat, forming a lump at the thought of losing daily contact with the child.
In such a short amount of time, she’d become bonded to the baby. She enjoyed Fleur. And sharing the baby’s smiles and sweetness with Broderick.
Thinking back to Broderick’s proposition had her stomach moving like an out-of-control Ferris wheel. Perhaps...perhaps they did make a pretty good team.
Was his suggestion of attempting a real relationship just ill timed?
On tiptoes, she walked out of the room with a rumbling stomach. In the still dark hours of the morning, she made her way toward the fridge.
The stress of the last few nights translated into a sweet tooth. Time for leftover tiramisu and a glass of milk.
She could hear it calling her name.
Lifting the container from the fridge, she caught movement out of the side of her eye. For a terrifying moment, Glenna convinced herself there was an intruder.
As her vision adjusted, she recognized the form. Broderick sprawled out on the sofa.
Relief washed through her.
“Oh my God, you scared me. I thought you’d gone to bed.” Her free hand covering her mouth, she willed her heartbeat to return to normal.
He sat up, stretching, a blanket around his waist. “I fell asleep here.”
The sexy timbre of his morning voice stirred something inside her, reminding her of things he’d whispered in her ear last night. The sweet litany of lover’s words that made her feel beautiful. Desirable.
“I’m sorry to have woken you.” Sheepishly looking at her plate of dessert, she raised it to him.
“Is the baby okay? I can feed her.” All remnants of sleep left his face.
“She’s sleeping well. I’m the one who was hungry.” She held up a spoon. “Tiramisu for breakfast. Want some?”
“I’m good for now.” He stoked the embers in the fireplace back into a blaze. “Thanks.”
Broderick tossed two thinner logs into the grate. The dance of the flames reflected on his bare chest, turning
the rippled muscles to burnished bronze.
Glenna sat on a bar stool, the leather cover creaking as she settled. She traced the wood grain along the breakfast bar, circling the food in front of her. “I owe you an apology for the way I behaved last night. And a thank-you for all you’ve done to help since we got here.”
“No apologies or thanks necessary.” His gaze fixed hard on the fire.
She tipped her head to the side. “Ah, come on. Your mother’s stew recipe was epic.”
Rising, he grinned. Half a grin, anyway. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“I liked hearing things about your family, too. Those stories make it easier for me to envision how the business is going to work after the merger. How we can all make it work.” She hoped, anyway, because there wasn’t a choice. The company merger was going to happen.
And a merger—a personal partnership—with Broderick?
She was still considering it.
“My dad had this annual tradition for the family. We all spent a winter weekend camping out in glass igloos. Sure, they were temperature controlled, but still it was the ultimate blending of sleeping outdoors under a clear sky with all the luxury of a hotel.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“It was. Dad did it for Mom, in recognition of her heritage, ours, too. You remember my mother was a quarter Inuit?” He shifted over on the sofa, making room for her.
His gesture inviting Glenna to sit with him touched her. Abandoning her breakfast, she slid from the stool and plopped down next to him. She tucked her feet by her side and positioned herself to face him. Even now, electricity hummed between them, adding fire to their conversation.
“That was incredibly thoughtful and romantic of him.”
“I remember my parents being very in love. To be clear, she didn’t grow up in an igloo.” He chuckled. “She was the daughter of teachers, and was a teacher herself. She valued our education. My siblings and I joked we were homeschooled and went to public school.” Pivoting on the couch, he faced her, the flickers of the fire enlivening his dark features.
The Baby Claim Page 13