The Slade Brothers: A Complete Small Town Contemporary Romance Collection

by Alexis Winter

  Some guy comes up to us. He bends down and asks Julie to dance. She shoots us a smile before placing her hand in his. The two of them walk off to the dance floor, leaving us alone.

  “What do you say?” I ask, nodding toward the dance floor.

  Her eyes squint in my direction. “I don’t know, Wyatt.”

  “Come on, sweetheart. One dance can’t hurt.”

  She seems to think it over for a moment, but then gives in and stands up with her arms crossed over her chest like she doesn’t trust herself to keep her hands to herself. I place my hand on the small of her back, leading her to the darkened corner. I feel her tense beneath my touch, and that tears at my heart more than it should.

  With my hand on her back, I spin her around quickly. Her arms fall to her sides as her chest presses against mine. When her chest hits mine, a puff of air is pushed out, blowing against my dry lips. I take her hands in mine and raise them up to my neck. They stay as I allow mine to slide down her arms, then to her sides, and finally to her hips. Slowly, we start moving to the romantic country song. For the first minute, she tries to avoid eye contact.

  “This is that dance we never got,” I whisper in her ear, pulling her closer.

  She looks up at me, surprised by my words. Her mouth opens and I have a feeling she’s going to argue with me, so I cut her off.

  “Just . . . give me this. Close your eyes.” She rolls them at first, but then they flutter closed. “Now, imagine you in your puffy white dress, and me in my tux. Picture the blue lights from the gym ceiling shining down on us, the smell of too many sweaty bodies crammed into one place, and maybe the stench of whiskey coming off my breath. If you try really hard, you can see it—see us. How we were back then. Happy, in love, full of hopes and dreams for the future we’re about to spend together. Can you see it? Feel it?”

  I see her nod her head slightly. “Stay there with me,” I whisper, resting my forehead against hers. “Let’s live in the past, just for tonight. We’re 18 again. I love you, and you love me. We have the world at our fingertips.”

  Something is drawing me closer. It may be the soft, steady rhyme of her heart beating on my chest. It could be that after all these years, she’s still wearing that same perfume. It could just be feeling her soft skin against mine again. Either way, I need to taste her—feel her lips on mine.

  I lean forward, capturing her mouth. She sucks in a deep breath, shocked and surprised. For a moment, she’s frozen, unsure if this is something she wants, but then I feel her let loose. A dam breaks and a flood of want washes over her. Her lips begin to move, as her tongue comes out to dance with mine. Her fingers glide through the back of my hair as she holds me close. She tastes just as good as I remember: sweet, perfect. My hands move from her hips to her lower back, then up and back down, roaming over her like I need to make sure she’s actually here in my arms.

  Her heat settles over me like a thick blanket as I move one hand up to cup her jaw. God, I never want this kiss to end. I wonder if she feels the same way. I can feel her beginning to pull away, so I move my other hand up as well. I’m holding her to me, never wanting to let go. Finally, she pulls away and her eyes find mine. They’re wide with alarm and maybe fear, but I also see love and lust burning behind those baby blues. Her lips are parted with her heavy breathing, her chest rising and falling.

  “Wyatt, I can’t,” she whispers.

  “Why not, Destiny?” I ask, trying to move back in, but she stops me with a single hand on my chest. “I . . . I can’t do this again.” She shakes her head as she backs away, beyond my reach.

  “Des, please,” I nearly beg.

  “I can’t keep repeating the same mistakes from my past. I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  Without another word, she turns and runs away, stopping at the bar to grab her purse, and then she’s out the door. Julie looks from me, to the door, and back before grabbing her things and heading out too. I want to chase after her, but I know I shouldn’t. She needs time. Time to deal. Time to process. Time to find the love I know she still holds for me. I felt it in her touch, our kiss. I saw it in her eyes. It’s only a matter of time.

  The important thing is, I planted that seed. It will grow inside her, tormenting her, pushing her to come to me, to take what I know she craves. I know, because that seed has been inside me since the first day I laid eyes on her. Even though we’ve been apart, it hasn’t stopped growing. And it never will.

  Six

  Destiny

  Fate is most certainly a bitch. How dare she dangle him in front of me? Is this a test? See if Destiny repeats the same mistake or if she’s learned her lesson? Did I just pass or fail? Is this even something I can walk away from? I just did, but that doesn’t mean anything. This is only the beginning. If I know anything, it’s that Wyatt never gives up—not when he finds something he wants. And dammit, he still wants me. After all these years, he still wants me.

  I still want him, even though I know I shouldn’t. You’d think after all this time, my body wouldn’t be able to connect to him so easily. I sensed him before I even saw him. One touch from him was all it took to have my skin tingling and burning. One kiss had me second-guessing every decision I’ve made since I left this town. It would be so easy to let him take me back to his place and spend the night reliving our past, but that may cause more harm than good.

  Wyatt isn’t the same guy I walked away from long ago. He’s older and wiser. He’s been places and seen things. No way could he ever be fully happy with a small-town girl like me. Sure, he’d have fun living in the past for a while. But each time we’d see each other, he’d just be working me out of his system little by little. I walked away from him once; I don’t know if I’d be able to watch him walk away from me. It would wreck me. He’s someone I’ll never get over or move on from, but maybe that’s the point. I know what it’s like to love and lose. Maybe this—him—was simply meant to teach me what love is and isn’t. Maybe we were never meant to be together. But if that’s the case, then why can he still control my body the way he does? Why was it so hard to walk away and leave him on that dance floor?

  One simple answer: because we’re not done. Not yet. I thought we finished what we started long ago, but I was wrong. There’s still so much more between us. We moved away from each other, but I know I never made a real attempt to get over him. I tried running, pushing away his memory, ignoring my feelings. I dated other people, but never let things go too far. Why have I been holding myself back? Why have I been so afraid of love? Because deep down, I know I’ll never love anyone the way I loved him.

  Given how drunk we are, we pass by Julie’s car and walk the block and a half to her house, where I crash for the night. We don’t talk about Wyatt. I can’t. I need time to sort through my feelings. Julie seems to know that without having to be told. She doesn’t ask questions or push for answers. She just goes to her room and lets me fall asleep peacefully on the couch.

  “Looks like the rain is coming in,” Wyatt says, looking up at the dark sky as we sit in the middle of the crowded bleachers, watching the football game.

  I look up just in time to get a drop on the cheek. The raindrop chills my warm skin. Then the sky opens up and sheets of rain come pouring down. Everyone makes a break for it, grabbing their things and scurrying down the bleachers as quickly as possible. When they hit the ground, they take off running for their cars. The announcer declares that the game has been canceled, and the teams start to make their way off the field, into the locker room under the bleachers.

  Now that the panic is over, Wyatt takes my hand and helps me down the slippery bleachers. I start heading to my right to exit the stadium, toward the car, but he tugs on my hand, holding me back.

  I spin around to face him, now completely drenched. “What is it?”

  “Dance with me,” is his request.

  I laugh. “What? Are you crazy? We’re getting soaked. We’re going to catch a cold out here.”

  “This’ll be worth it.�
�� He tugs me to the center of the football field and pulls me to his chest. His hands find my hips and mine wrap around his neck. His dark eyes find mine. I’ve never seen them look more clear. “I love you, Destiny.”

  The words are stuck in my throat. He’s never told me he loves me. Deep down, I’ve always known, because I love him too. I’ve just been too afraid to admit it—to say it.

  “I . . . I love you too,” I say around a giggle.

  He leans in, pressing his mouth to mine. His tongue darts out and tangles with my own. My heart starts hammering away in my chest and it feels as though my lungs have suddenly forgotten how to work. My entire body is tingling. A shiver runs up my spine—not from the cold rain, but from hearing his words, feeling his love.

  He pulls away, cupping my cheeks. “Come on. Let’s get you warmed up.” His hands fall away, but one of them latches onto mine as he leads me out of the stadium to his car. We climb inside and he starts it up, setting the heat on full blast. In the darkness, he looks over at me. I look at him. It’s like we’re both reading each other. A decision has been made. We meet in the middle, my mouth finding his, his hands finding me. He pushes away my jacket and my fingers thread into his mess of dark hair. I tug him closer, but he pulls me onto his lap. His hands travel my body, his lips leaving mine only to kiss their way down my neck. I feel like I could explode with the slightest touch.

  “Wyatt . . . I want to,” I whisper, afraid of my own words.

  He freezes as he mulls over the magic words that just slipped out. He removes his lips from my collarbone and his eyes find mine. They’re full of fear, excitement, love. “You want to?” he repeats.

  I nod my head once.

  “Now?” His brows lift.

  I shrug. Obviously, I don’t want my first time to be in his car. “Not right now. But I’m ready. I just . . . want it to be special.”

  He nods, his hand coming up to brush the wet hair away from my cheek. “Let’s get you home so you can get out of these wet clothes . . .”

  I wake with a jump. My eyes flutter open, straining against the bright morning sun. My head is pounding and my stomach feels like it’s doing flips. I force myself to sit up. Looking around me, I take in the place.

  “Morning,” Julie says, walking out of her room and flopping down on the couch next to me.

  I groan. “How much did we drink last night?” I ask, rubbing my head as I gently lay it back on the couch.

  She giggles. “Enough to power an army, I think. You want some coffee?”

  “Please,” I nearly beg.

  She goes to the kitchen and is only gone a few minutes before she’s walking back with a cup of coffee in each hand. I grab a cup and take a sip. It’s heaven: three sugars, one cream.

  “This is perfect,” I mumble, taking another sip, and then one more.

  She laughs and takes a drink. “So, what are your plans?”

  I shrug. “Probably go home, take a long, hot shower, then see what my mom needs help with today. I need to start looking for a job. I only have a couple grand in my account, and it won’t take long to burn through that. I don’t want to make things harder for them, you know?”

  She giggles. “I meant about Wyatt.”

  “Oh,” I say, taking a drink. “I don’t know,” I breathe out, shaking my head.

  “Want my advice?” she asks, quirking one of her brows.

  I don’t reply, so she carries on.

  “Hear him out. Give him the benefit of the doubt. See where things lead. It could be your epic romance, or it could be a hot fling. Either way, I don’t think you can lose.”

  When I make it home, Mama is all over me. “You could’ve at least called, young lady. I was worried sick all night.”

  I plop down in the kitchen chair, knowing she isn’t done yet. “I’m sorry, Mama. I didn’t realize I needed to call. I’ve mean, I’ve lived on my own for years now.” I want to roll my eyes but refrain, remembering the last time I did that. She whopped me upside the head.

  “Don’t you get smart with me, young lady. I don’t mind you going out and catching up with some old friends, but I do expect you to call or text if you decide to not come home. I left the door unlocked all night.” She pours a cup of coffee and hands it to me.

  “I really am sorry, Mama.” I bring the cup to my lips and take a sip. “How’s Daddy doing today?”

  “Same as any day. He just went for his walk through the barn and is back in bed for his midmorning nap. Looks like you could use one as well.”

  I laugh. “I probably could, but I need to shower and look for a job.”

  “Nonsense,” she says, shooting me a disapproving look.

  “Mama, I need something. Even if it’s only part-time. I can’t expect you to pay for my car insurance, phone bill, gas, and food. Don’t worry—I’ll make sure I still have plenty of time to help out around here.” I stand up, press a kiss to the top of her head, and walk upstairs to my room.

  I strip out of my dress and climb into the shower. I wipe the makeup from my face, wash my hair, and shave my legs. All of this keeps me busy, but the moment I find that I have nothing left to do, Wyatt fills my head. I slide down the shower wall to the bottom of the tub. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I rest my forehead on my knees, closing my eyes to relax. His face is all I can see—his wide smile, his flirty grin, and his dark eyes that are always smoldering with lust when he looks at me. I can see the wrinkles that form between his eyes when he’s focusing on something. I can see the way his jaw ticks when he gets annoyed or angry. A sigh escapes.

  I wish I knew what to do about him. I wish I could just pull an answer out of thin air, like a Magic 8-Ball. My heart would love to feel his love again, but my brain is still angry. How can I let go of the anger? How can I ever trust him again?

  I shake my head and stand up to dry off.

  After I shower and dress, I sit on the bed with my laptop, looking for any local jobs. I see an opening at the local grocery store and submit an application. I scroll a little further and find that there’s a cleaning company hiring as well. The description for the job reads: We clean a variety of businesses and private dwellings. Must feel comfortable working alone and alongside others. Part-time position.

  I submit an application and close the laptop. I lean back and my soft pillows welcome me. It only takes minutes before I’m in a deep sleep.

  Seven

  Wyatt

  It’s been a week since that night at the bar. A. Whole. Fucking. Week. I have to hand it to her: I didn’t think she’d be able to stay away this long. What happened between us all those years ago clearly isn’t just “high school drama” like she told Julie. What gets me the most though is how she can forgive Julie and not me. I don’t understand it. If she can forgive one of us, then she should forgive both, right? I also feel guilty for ruining their high school friendship. It only makes sense for them to be friends again. Me, however, well . . . I’m still waiting.

  It becomes clear to me that waiting won’t get things done. Nothing ever happens if you just sit around and wait. So I’ve gone to the bar every night, hoping to find her. She hasn’t been back. I even went grocery shopping, hoping I’d run into her there, but that hasn’t happened either. Every morning, I grab coffee and breakfast from the bakery and get dinner from the diner. She isn’t anywhere. I actually start to wonder if she’s even still in town, but Julie insists she is.

  “Hey, did you happen to bring in those sketches you drew up for the new proposal?” Drake asks, sticking his head into my office.

  “Shit.” I hang my head. “I completely forgot. I’ll run home and get them.”

  “No rush. The meeting is tomorrow. I just wanted to look them over and pick my favorites.”

  “I’ll run home. I ain’t doing shit here anyway,” I say, pushing away from the desk.

  I jump in the car and head back to the house. When I pull into the drive, there’s a silver Malibu sitting in front of the garage. I che
ck my watch and see that it’s going on 2 p.m. It must be the weekly cleaning service. I park next to the car and head inside. There’s music playing in the kitchen, so I peek my head in, not wanting to frighten the housekeeper.

  “Knock, knock,” I say, looking into the kitchen.

  The woman cleaning the stove lets out a squeal, spinning around to face me.

  My mouth drops open as I realize I’m face to face with Destiny in my own house. Her blue eyes are wide, and her plump lips are parted with surprise.

  “Hey,” I say, still recovering from the shock.

  “Hey,” she responds a little too quickly.

  “What, uh, what are you doing here?” I ask, walking closer as I feel my smirk starting to spread.

  “I’m cleaning. I’m with Hampton’s Cleaning Service. I didn’t know this was your house.” She’s twisting the towel in her hands as she bounces from one foot to the other.

  I lean against the island separating us. “Yeah, I had it built with my inheritance when I started working at the brewery after high school.”

  She nods once, her eyes downcast. “I meant to call you after the other night.”

  “Oh yeah? About what? About how you ran out on me?” I ask, slowly moving around the island, getting closer to her.

  “I wanted to explain,” she says, stepping back to lean against the counter. “I didn’t mean to tease you or make you think there’s still something between us, because there’s not.” Her eyes level on mine.

  I nod, taking another step closer.

  “What we had was a long time ago,” she tells me. “We both need to move on. I’ll admit, I never tried to move on. I just kept trying to outrun your memory. But this town is too small for the two of us to avoid each other with every step. We need to be adults about this.”