Game On (Aeon Book 1)

by Wendy Smith

  “Health and safety,” Stuart calls out.

  Brad laughs, kissing me so hard that it takes my breath away. I’m vaguely aware of catcalls in the distance, but all the rest of my senses are filled by him.

  He smells of timber and sweat. It’s so far removed from my life in Silicon Valley, and I love it.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Seeing you with that guy …”

  “That’s the guy who wants to buy my company.” I lick my lips. “And me.”

  “I didn’t know you were for sale.” He chuckles. “Any chance of me getting in the top bid?”

  “Oh, I’m free for you.” I laugh, and he wraps his arms tight around my shoulders. I’m still getting the death glare from his co-worker, but I don’t care.

  “I need your number. He sent me a text inviting me to lunch, and I thought it was you,” I say. After wriggling free of him, I pull out my phone and type the number he gives me into my contacts. “There. I’ve got you now.”

  Brad nods. “Yeah, you do.”

  I grin at the double meaning. “I’ll let you get back to work. Talk to you later?”

  He nods. “You bet.”

  I raise my face and he pecks me on the lips.

  “Well, that was disappointing after your last effort,” I say.

  Brad shrugs. “Gotta save something for when we’re alone.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  When he takes a step back, Stu moves closer and drops the hard hat on my head. “You’re trouble, Beckham.”

  “Always. I’m sure you missed it.”

  “You bet I did. So did Brad.”

  I look over at Brad. He’s returned to the blueprint, and I nod. “I missed you guys too.”

  “One of us more than the other, I suspect.”

  I laugh as we walk away. “Maybe a little. I think I just missed being home.”

  15

  Molly

  Throughout the week, we’ve called and texted each other. It’s weird when Brad’s so close, but I’m still trying to keep a little distance between us so we don’t rush into anything.

  That doesn’t stop me dreaming about him.

  “Molly.”

  I’m standing in front of him, completely naked. He runs an appreciative gaze over me and beckons me forward. Fuck, he’s so hot. He’s still fully clothed, but he takes a step forward and I claw at his shirt, willing the buttons undone. They fall apart with a pop, one by one, and …

  “Molly.”

  That deep voice sends shivers through me, and I reach down to touch myself and …

  “Baby, wake up.”

  My eyes flicker open, and I stare at Brad, standing over me.

  “What the hell?”

  He smirks. “Were you touching yourself under there? Better have been thinking of me.”

  I sit up. “No, and no. What are you doing in my bedroom?”

  “I distracted your mother with Grace. She thinks I’m in the bathroom, but I figured you were sleeping in your old room. Any room for me in that bed?”

  Laughing, I nod. “Sure.”

  I shriek with laughter as he climbs on the bed.

  “Look. Still chaste.” He lies on top of me, the blanket between us.

  “No sex in my bedroom. You know the rules.” I wag my index finger at him.

  “Rules were made to be broken.” He kisses me softly, and I close my eyes, letting out a contented sigh.

  All too soon, he pulls away, and I know it’s the right thing to do.

  “Mom’ll be wondering where you are. And I guess this is a sign I should get out of bed.”

  He rolls to my side. “I came to ask if you had plans today.”

  “I was asleep a few minutes ago, so no.”

  “Help me pack up Lane’s house.”

  I swallow, hard. Can I do this? Can I immerse myself in the memories of Lane knowing how much I hurt her? “I’m not sure if I can.”

  “I struggled by myself. I’d like your company at least.”

  I fight back tears. “Brad, I—”

  “Come and say goodbye to her.” He looks into my eyes. “I tried to do it just after the funeral, and it was too much. I’d like your help. It might be easier if we do it together.”

  I’ll do this for Brad. And for Grace. They need me. I nod. “I’ll try.”

  “Grace will be with us. It’s good for her to spend time there, I think. I’m not going to get rid of the house anytime soon. There are too many memories there.”

  “I’m sure. I’d love to come with you.”

  A sly smile snakes across his lips. “That’ll happen later.” He rolls off the bed, and I laugh.

  “You never stop, do you?”

  “Not where you’re concerned.” He reaches down, trailing his fingers down my face.

  “As much as I’d love to watch you get dressed, your mom will think I’ve disappeared.”

  “See you in a minute.”

  Mom insists on making coffee for us, and hot chocolate for Grace.

  But as soon as we’re finished, we pile in Brad’s truck and set off for the house.

  Butterflies show up in my stomach, and I breathe deep to get past them.

  “You okay?” Brad reaches across and squeezes my hand.

  I nod. “Yeah, it’s a little weird being here and doing this, but I’ll be fine.”

  “I know. It’s something we shouldn’t have to do. I’m glad you’re with us, though.”

  “Me too.”

  I catch my breath when I see the house. It’s so Lane. She always wanted the house with the white picket fence, and this is pretty close. Honeysuckle grows on one part of the house, with the garden full of color. And there’s a picket fence that runs around the property.

  It’s beautiful, and there are so many aspects of this place carried over to Brad’s new home.

  Brad did this for her.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “It’s what she wanted,” Brad says quietly as he pulls into the driveway. “Mom and Dad helped us into this place, and when the construction company took off, I bought the section where I built the new place. But this was our first home together, and Lane loved it.”

  “Molly, I can show you my room,” Grace says.

  “I’d love to see it.”

  “Most of Grace’s things are packed up. There are some boxes in there to fill, and anything she doesn’t want to put in her room at home will go into storage.”

  I nod. “I understand. It’s hard to let go.”

  “Letting go is one of the toughest things about all of this. It’s been such a short time since we lost her.” He lets go of a loud breath. “Let’s get inside and get started.”

  We all climb out of the truck, and Grace skips ahead. I link my fingers with Brads as we walk toward the front door.

  This could have been our house.

  The thought hits me like a brick. If I hadn’t stayed away, Brad and I would have been married. We would have bought our first home.

  Today will be even harder than I thought.

  “Can you please do me a favor?” he asks, sliding the key into the lock.

  “Anything.”

  “Would you start in Lane’s bedroom? I couldn’t do it last time.”

  I brush my hand up his arm and nod. “Of course.”

  “We’re only here for as long as we can be. Okay, ladies?” Brad looks at me and then Grace.

  Grace nods. “Okay, Daddy.”

  I follow him and Grace into the house. It’s as lovely inside as it is outside. The decor is a deep blue, Lane’s favorite color. And there’s a staircase leading upstairs with a beautiful carved wooden rail.

  I fight tears at the thought of her getting what she wanted. What she deserved.

  “This way.” Brad leads us up the stairs, and Grace peels off to the left.

  I’m not prepared for what greets me in the bedroom.

  Boxes are scattered around the room, ready to contain everything. There’s a large bed agains
t one wall with a crisp white comforter.

  This was her room.

  I fight the urge to run, and close my eyes as Brad’s arms wrap around me from behind.

  “I know how you’re feeling. Part of me just wants to just close this up as a shrine to her. But it’s not healthy to live like that,” he says.

  Sighing, I lift my right arm, hooking it around his neck. “No, it’s not. I’ll make a start.”

  He plants a kiss on my head. “If it gets to be too much, let me know.”

  “I will.”

  I’m determined to be strong. While it’s not been that long since Lane died, this has to be done. I can understand how hard it is for him.

  I walk over to the wardrobe. Lane’s clothes still hang here, and as I reach out and touch a pale blue dress, emotion wells in me. There are dresses either side, but this one stands out to me. She wore this. It was what she wore the last time I saw her. I’ll never forget that day.

  “I’m so proud of you, Molly.”

  I smile. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Oh no, you don’t. Today is your day.” She hugs me tight. “I didn’t know saying goodbye would be so hard.”

  “I know.” I fight back tears. “Look after Brad for me.”

  “I don’t know about that. He’ll be pining after you.” She laughs softly. “Stu and I will take care of him.”

  “I love you,” I say. My heart’s breaking, because I know something she doesn’t. I’m not coming back.

  I’m sacrificing the man I love for Lane. Lane has no one. She loves Brad, and she needs him. My feelings can’t matter. I need to make sure she has a better life, because she deserves it.

  “I love you too. Show the world what you’re made of, Molly. I know you can do it.”

  There’s an empty box beside the bed, and I haul it toward the wardrobe. Gently lifting the precious blue dress, I slide it off the hanger and fold it. Lifting it to my face, I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

  I meant it when I said I loved her.

  In that moment, Lane’s happiness was what was important. No matter the cost to me.

  I lived with regret for so long, but once I knew they were together, I tried my best to be happy for her.

  I love you, Lane.

  Lowering the dress into the box, I let out a long breath. Tears prick my eyes as the fabric drops. Lane should be here.

  This is so wrong.

  Once the wardrobe is done, I move onto the drawers. One by one, I empty them into the boxes. I’m numb.

  I pick up a shirt. Underneath is an envelope with my name on it written in Lane’s handwriting. I pluck it out of the drawer, drop the shirt, and turn over the envelope.

  “Brad,” I call.

  He appears a few seconds later in the doorway. “What’s going on?”

  “I found this.”

  He crosses the room and takes a look at what’s in my hand. “I’m not sure what it is. Open it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s got your name on it.”

  He leads me to the bed and pulls me down beside him. He places his hand on my knee. “Want some privacy?”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s fine.”

  Peeling open the envelope, I pull out a piece of paper. Lane always had the tidiest handwriting. Mine resembles chicken scrawl.

  Dear Molly,

  Some part of me wants to send this to you, but I always figured if you wanted to hear from me, you would have kept in touch.

  I’m still so lost about what happened between us. Whatever your reasons, I’m sure they were what you needed.

  You might be wondering why I’m writing this at all. If you’re reading it, it’ll be because Brad’s cleaned out the house and found this among my things. Hopefully it means you’re with him.

  I say hopefully because he needs you. He always did.

  Brad loved me. I know it. We were happy for a while, and we had Grace. I hope you’ve met her. She’s my greatest creation, and I love her so much that my heart feels it might burst.

  It wasn’t always that way. She arrived so quickly that I think I went into shock. My baby girl scared me so much, I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel close to her.

  But I did. I adore her with every fiber of my being.

  Now I want you to, too.

  She needs you, Molly. They both do. It was always you, and I was okay with that for a while. Later on, I realized that I’d never be able to compete with the memory of you. Even after you cut him off, you were still the love of his life.

  I’ve got cancer, and I’m dying. I found the lump too late, and now I’ll be leaving my daughter and Brad behind. My heart hurts so much at that thought.

  Maybe you’ll get this, and it won’t mean anything. But I’d like to think that the Molly I knew would take some time out and be there for the people I love.

  Because you’ll love them too.

  I’m so proud of you. You showed the world what the great Molly Beckham is all about.

  I love you.

  Lane

  I clutch the paper to my chest, tears streaming down my face.

  “Oh, baby.” Brad pulls me into his arms.

  “I wish I’d known. I’d have been there for her. I promise.”

  He cradles my head against his shoulder. “I know you would have. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to you. I thought about it.”

  I sniff. “You did?”

  “So many times. But Lane didn’t want me to, and I listened to her. I shouldn’t have. I should have tracked you down and told you what was going on.”

  “She didn’t want me to know?”

  “She didn’t want anyone to know. She didn’t want to be pitied. Mom didn’t agree with Lane’s request either, but she did it because she loved her.”

  I bury my face in Brad’s chest.

  “Molly?”

  Looking up, I smile at the sight of Grace standing in the doorway. I untangle myself from Brad and open my arms to Lane’s little girl.

  She needs you, Molly.

  “Come here, beautiful girl. Your mommy wrote me a letter.”

  Grace comes straight for me, and I hold her tight in my embrace. “She did?”

  “She told me just how much she loved you.”

  Grace grips my arm.

  “Your mom was so proud of you, Grace. She wanted us to be friends.”

  She smiles.

  Turning my head, I meet Brad’s gaze. It’s so full of love and takes my breath away. Lane was right. “She says you two need me.”

  “We do.”

  I expect the words to come from Brad, but Grace is the one who says them.

  “You know what I think we should do right now?” Brad asks.

  “What?”

  “I think we should stop working for the day and get ice cream.”

  Grace laughs. “We did that last time we were here.”

  “I know. But there’s no hurry, and I think we could all do with a break.”

  I nod. “I know I could after that.”

  Letting out a breath, I wipe the tears from my cheeks.

  I miss you Lane.

  Janie greets the three of us with a warm smile.

  There’s wariness in her eyes when she fixes her gaze on me, but at least she’s not completely icing me out. Even though I know I don’t owe her an explanation for Darryn’s visit, part of me wants to spill everything out to get her forgiveness.

  I’m not stupid. She knows my history with Brad—everyone does. But if Brad can forgive me, so can everyone else without me telling them my reasons.

  “Special chocolate ice cream for three.” Brad grins, shooting a wink at Grace.

  “Special ice cream?” I ask.

  “It has sprinkles and whipped cream.” Grace grabs hold of my hand and pulls me to a corner booth.

  “Apparently, it was a Grace and Lane tradition. I’ve recently discovered it,” Brad says.

  I slide into the booth alongside Grace, and Brad sits opposite us.r />
  “Well, if it’s a tradition, you’ll need to keep having it to honor your mom.” I smile.

  Brad nods. “That’s the plan.” He cocks his head. “You okay?”

  I nod. “A little shaken by that letter, but I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re not the only one, but I’m not surprised. I told you she never stopped loving you.”

  I give him a smile, and turn to look at Grace as she gasps. Three plates laden with chocolate ice cream and sprinkles are headed our way.

  Grace applauds the arrival of the ice cream, and I laugh at her reaction.

  “Thanks, Janie,” I say.

  Janie stiffens. “You’re welcome.”

  “Thanks, Janie,” Brad says.

  She beams at him. “I’m glad you like it. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.” Shooting me a pointed look, she spins on her heel and heads away.

  “What’s her problem with you?” he asks.

  “You noticed that? I think it’s because of that guy I told you about. The one who turned up and thinks I’m gonna sell him my company.”

  “Are you selling it?”

  I shake my head. “If I ever did, it wouldn’t be to him.”

  Brad shrugs. “Janie will just have to get over herself, then. Thank you for coming today.”

  “I’m glad I did. It’s meant a lot.”

  He nods. “Best we eat this before it melts.”

  I turn toward Grace, bursting out laughing when I lay eyes on her face. She’s got ice cream dribbling down her chin, and her grin is infectious.

  These two make my heart so full.

  16

  Molly

  Lane’s letter stays in my thoughts over the next few days. How can it not?

  My beautiful friend still loved me, despite the way I hurt her. And it just makes me ache all the more. I should have seen her before she died.

  Today, it’s Tuesday, and I need to buckle down and get some work done. Miranda is amazing, making sure I don’t have to deal with the trivial things and only highlighting what I actually need to do.

  There’s an email in my inbox with no subject from my lead developer, Tom. Usually, emails like that are funny ones, and I could do with a laugh.