Freed (Bound Duet Book 2)

by Stephie Walls

  I had never allowed Brett to spend the night; it would have been too easy to have sex with him that way, and I wasn’t ready to commit my body to anyone else. The stress of the day had exhausted me, and after seeing me yawn several times, he got up to leave. I stopped him, pulling him back down. I refused to let him go without being up front with him, and there was no easy way to say it.

  I blurted out, “He called me from the church today.”

  “Who did?” My abrupt proclamation confused him.

  “Gray.”

  “Gray called you from the church…today?” The fury threatened to boil over. His chiseled cheeks flushed an angry crimson red, and his thick muscled arms wrapped around my waist. “What the hell did he want? Why was he calling you on his wedding day?” His attempt at tempering his irritation was not lost on me.

  Certain parts of the male physique attracted most women: arms, legs, butts, chests…dicks. I, however, was a sucker for eyes that told a story. Brett had eyes that could write epic sagas. The beautiful, stormy emerald green with little flecks of gold sprinkled around had a smoldering look that was softened by the sweetness that lingered in them; they were soulful. His thoughts and his mood were written in the color of the iris and the lines on the skin around them—they communicated to me. He appeared threatened and upset.

  “He called me about ten minutes before the ceremony started, or was scheduled to start.”

  “Why?”

  “He wanted me to tell him I love him. He said if I did, he would leave her; he wouldn’t marry her.” It was the truth, but one I hadn’t wanted to share. I didn’t think I needed the emotions behind the words. The panic in my race to rid myself of the words should have indicated how I felt.

  “What did you say?” He cautiously pulled back and put distance between us.

  I caught his hand on my waist, held it in place, and reached for his cheek with my other hand. His anger had turned to fear with a hint of sadness. He doubted how I felt about him, and that was more crushing than dealing with Gray. I’d carelessly thought I’d shown him how much I loved him with my actions even if I’d never said the words.

  “He still married her, so I didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear.”

  “But what did you tell him?” Green eyes frantically searched my face for an answer.

  A soft smile graced my lips in an attempt to comfort him. “I told him it wasn’t my decision to make and if he didn’t want to marry her, he should do it for himself, not me. I’m with you and no longer an option for him.”

  “He accepted that?”

  “I didn’t give him a chance not to. I hung up and turned off my phone. I haven’t turned it back on since.” I slid my thumb along his high cheekbone, trying to reassure him with my touch and hoping he could see the truth in my eyes.

  “You chose me over Gray, the love of your life?” His eyes brimmed with unshed tears as he fought off the emotion.

  “No, Brett, I chose the love of my life over Gray. I should have told you before now. I don’t know why I haven’t. Those three little words are insignificant by themselves, separately none of them means much—but when you string them together, they have power no other phrase in the English language has. I love you, Brett. I wanted to ensure I showed you and forgot I needed to tell you, too.”

  He jerked me to him, kissing me with an undeniable passion. I wasn’t certain I’d made the right decision with Gray, or if I had made the right decision by telling Brett, but I knew I had decided. I moved on with life after Gray, and that life only included Brett. Gray would always hold a place in my heart, just like Will—they were parts of my life—memories, lessons learned. The force that had bound Gray and me together hadn’t just disappeared because he got married, rather I had shifted it to the side in favor of something better—me.

  In one swift movement, Brett scooped me into his arms and started toward my bedroom. He allowed me time to stop him, to turn him back toward the front door—I did neither. Instead, I sealed my physical relationship with Brett the night Gray sealed his legal relationship with her. The intensity of being with Brett differed from anything I’d ever experienced with Gray or Will—it was slow, methodical lovemaking. He was huge, almost uncomfortably so, but he was so tender, and took his time, cherishing every touch.

  We fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms. Brett became the first man to spend the night in my bed since Gray, but also the first to spend the night in the house I’d given to myself to start fresh and heal. He also became my lucky number three. He was the third person in my life I’d had sex with: Will, Gray, then Brett—I refused to count Topher. He was the third man I had ever loved outside of my family. Most importantly, he was the third man I’d ever trusted. The difference between Will and Gray was Brett would never take advantage of my heart or my trust—he’d given himself to me completely. He’d waited patiently for me, proving he was in for the long haul.

  In my limited experience, having sex with someone changed everything. At first, it was for the better; then men became complacent and quit trying when they’d conquered the goal. The first was true with Brett but the second was not. He was four years my senior and had also only had two serious relationships prior to me. He’d waited for over a year to consummate our relationship. At thirty to my newly twenty-six, he had never married or even gotten engaged. Brett had waited for me, whether he knew it was me he had waited for or not is an arguable point, but the fact remained, he didn’t take commitment lightly.

  As Brett and I had gotten to know each other, he’d shared bits of information I wasn’t aware of and let me into his heart. He was ashamed to have been a part of a bet that had been placed the day he met me. The first day I was in the distribution center the managers set out to land me in bed. It stung to hear I’d been talked about with so little respect, but he assured me his intention had never been physical. That had been easy to believe based on our dating history. The other guys, his best friend Dan included, just wanted a quick romp to collect the cash, but Brett swore the moment he saw me, he wanted me for life. I couldn’t rationalize his thought process, and if I didn’t know him as well as I did, I wouldn’t have believed him. When I think about how patient he had been, seeing me with Gray, hanging out with other guys in the DC—I was dumbfounded he wanted anything to do with me. My relationship and all the ugly truths behind it had been public at 3 Tier, but he waited through the aftermath never knowing if or when an opening would come.

  When Gray and I called it quits for good, Lynn and Brett conspired for months behind my back. She’d known he was interested but knew I wasn’t in a place I would receive his advances, and she put him off for quite some time. The night Jenny and Lynn staged their rescue mission had all been a carefully orchestrated plan with Lynn leading the charge. She had known Gray would be at Wild Wings with Topher, Brett had canceled plans with friends to show up, and she’d all but dragged me out. There was nothing coincidental in the events. He had taken the chance to be a pawn in her game, hopeful I’d see there were other people out there. Even if he only had one night with me, he was okay with it being a drunken, sweaty mess on a dance floor. Life had brought me exactly what I thought I didn’t need at precisely the moment I needed it most.

  He was the one who brought me through the mess with Gray, not because I became dependent upon him, but because he had allowed me to live, just being me—I breathed freely. Brett had encouraged me to grow and appreciated the things about me that Gray loathed, specifically my work ethic. He had never experienced the drugs because I’d never touched them again after that morning Gray found them in the bathroom. Brett had proven he was in this for the long haul and had never rushed my heart or my touch. He had waited patiently for me to be strong enough to stand on solid ground before he had asked me to move forward. He had eased into my life slowly, seeping between the cracks, hardening like clay, the fragments that remained in the aftermath that was Gray. Brett’s only goal: to set me free to be me. He hadn’t tried to convince me verbal
ly of his love but had shown me day in and day out through his actions. With each bit of trust I put in him, he had rewarded me with a heart that was pure and true. The only desire Brett had was to give me his best.

  After Gray’s wedding, Brett’s commitment showed in everything he did. He spent most nights at my house, and our schedules slowly morphed into a routine that complimented the other’s. We tried to work the same hours—I didn’t want to relive arguing over the time I was on the clock. He went to the gym, I worked out. He did his thing, I did mine. Unless one of us had a business meeting, dinner plans were sacred—we disconnected from the world for thirty minutes and just enjoyed each other’s company without technology, telephones, or other distractions. We both made sure we spent time with friends without the other—I was determined not to lose myself in this relationship, and that started with maintaining existing friendships. Regardless of what either of us was doing, we greeted each other with a smile and a kiss, not because we had to but simply because we were genuinely happy to see each other. He was my best friend, and I looked forward to every minute I got with him, whether it was a half hour for dinner or the entire evening in bed. Every once in a while, he still stayed at his house, usually after a night out with his friends, but this would be the first time we’d spent any real time apart since our relationship changed. He would be gone for several days.

  He had a business trip in Atlanta all week. When he left this morning, he had on a suit, which I rarely saw him in. It was all a ruse during the bet to get my attention since they all believed I was a spoiled little rich girl. He looked incredibly edible, and I had to stop myself from ripping his clothes off to pull him back to the bedroom. Begrudgingly, I had let him go with a promise to miss him. He told me he loved me, I mimicked his words; we kissed, and he parted.

  ~

  Five days was a grueling hell when all you had to do was go to work before coming home to an empty house. I went running every night, but even that was a chore. Most of the time I made it through my workouts knowing I’d get an equally sweaty Brett in the shower when I got home, which was just plain hot. Coming home to an empty shower and an empty bed seemed wrong on so many levels. I missed the hell out of him. I’d been counting the hours until he’d walk through the door, and today was finally the day. I watched the clock like a hawk thinking if I somehow stared at it hard enough it would move faster. My phone pinged beside me and doused me in reality. Brett’s name on my screen made my girly parts warm until I read the message.

  Brett: Sweetheart, I’m coming home later than expected. I guess I’ll go to my house tonight and see you in the morning.

  Brett’s style of texting was hilarious. He was the only person I knew who still used proper English grammar with zero shortcuts including punctuation. I felt unworthy with my haphazard shorthand and tried my best to mimic his technique, but I frequently fell short.

  Me: Seriously?

  Brett: I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.

  Me: Can’t say I’m not disappointed. I miss you.

  Brett: I miss you, too. Call Lynn, you guys go out tonight.

  Me: Nah, I’ll just stay home. See you tomorrow.

  Brett: Annie, don’t do that. Please go out and enjoy yourself tonight. I love you.

  I didn’t respond in favor of being childish and petty. Five days without him had sucked, and I wanted to see my boyfriend. I figured if I didn’t respond then I was making him feel my disappointment. It was shitty and juvenile but made me feel a tinge better.

  Brett: Call Lynn.

  Me: Ugh…

  Brett: I love you, sweetheart. Stop pouting. I’ll see you tomorrow.

  Me: Ilu2

  He hated when I abbreviated I love you. He said if wasn’t worth typing out then it wasn’t worth saying. But again, I was illustrating a point.

  Brett: Hahaha

  I groaned. He knew exactly what I was doing but refused to play my game. I threw my phone as it pinged again. Expecting it to be Brett, I snatched it up only to see Lynn’s name on the screen. This man was insufferable.

  Lynn: Brett tells me you’re alone & in need of a night out until he can get to you tomorrow

  Me: Booooooo

  Lynn: I’ll be there in an hour. Put on a flirty dress, we’ll go pretend we’re loaded at a high-end restaurant downtown

  Me: Really Lynn?

  Lynn: Hell yes. Brett is buying & we have no spending limit. See you in an hour.

  Me: …ok

  Lynn was right on time. I couldn’t help but laugh when we reached the street, and I saw her dad’s Mercedes. “You really are playing this one up, aren’t you?”

  “Hey, it’s not every day someone else’s man gives you a Carte Blanche spending limit to take his girlfriend out on the town and entertain her. My dad offered the car, so I took it, as I did Brett’s money. Stop worrying about it and have fun.”

  She slid her sunglasses down on her nose and walked like Jessica Rabbit toward the car. Her fabulous ruby colored dress hugged her cute figure in all the right places, cinching her tummy, downplaying her enormous breasts, and drawing her into a perfect hourglass. The chopstick looking things sticking out of her hair might have been funny had she not looked like sex on a stick in five-inch, jet-black, Jimmy Choos.

  I didn’t want to deal with my hair, so I pulled the curls up into a knotted ponytail that made it appear as though I had exerted effort, but anyone that knew me, knew I just got hella lucky in the hair department thanks to Mother Nature. I donned my usual blush, mascara, and lip gloss before sliding my feet into a pair of silver pumps; mine, however, were not Jimmy Choos. But standing next to Lynn, people would assume I had spent as much on my outfit as she had spent on hers.

  The ride downtown didn’t take long in her dad’s S-class. I loved this car and the way heads turned when it passed. Lynn turned left on Main Street toward the West End—there was only one place we could be going, and that was Rick Erwin’s. By far my favorite restaurant in town, their herb-crusted grouper was to die for. My mouth was already watering when she pulled up to the valet. Two cute college-aged guys popped open both of our doors and assisted us each out of the car. Without even glancing at Thing One, Lynn dropped the keys in his hand and rounded the car to grab my arm as though we were special.

  I caught a glimpse of the two of us in the dark glass of the restaurant storefront and couldn’t help but think we looked like a candy cane. I paused just long enough to take in the white, silk charmeuse, tea-length dress that clung to my bodice with one shoulder. Where Lynn was over-endowed in the chest, I was disproportionate in the other direction, and the fabric made me appear ampler than I was. When Lynn twirled us in a circle just before Thing Two opened the restaurant door, I laughed as the skirt rose mid-twirl like Marilyn Monroe’s. With each gust of wind, the unforgiving fabric gracefully flew back, revealing every possible figure flaw before falling to my legs. I felt gorgeous in this dress, and the heels Lynn insisted I wear made my legs appear to go on for miles.

  “Ms. Teasman, it’s lovely to have you dining with us tonight. Let me show you and your guest to your table.”

  The hostess was lovely, with blonde hair, well spoken, and dressed in solid black. I’d eaten here a lot, but not enough for anyone to know me by name; my father, maybe, but me, no way.

  “Excuse me, ma’am…” She ignored me and continued walking. I turned to get Lynn’s response, but she shrugged her shoulders as confused as I was.

  “You got me, girl. I don’t have a clue.”

  The hostess ushered us around the palace in the center of the restaurant. It was unique to Rick Erwin’s, and in my mind, that room led to fairytales. The floor to ceiling glass was the pièce de résistance. Diners couldn’t help but notice it as the tables on the outside appeared to be spectators to those lucky enough to be inside. The only break in the crystal castle were the French doors on the backside that allowed entrance into the magical land inside.

  Tonight the room was bustling with patrons, all dressed to t
he nines. They were boisterous and sounded as though they’d been drinking and having a good time.

  Lynn and I had the same thought, but Lynn asked, “Ma’am, can you seat us away from that group in there? We won’t be able to hear each other speak.”

  “It’s a full house tonight, ladies. This is the only table I have available.” She sat us directly in front of the French doors that remained open to allow people to come and go. The door faced a wall, away from the rest of the restaurant to curb the noise, but we were right at the edge—the last table before the hall which acted like a moat No one was coming or going, and all that was visible was a wall of suit backs with splashes of color brimming the surface where the women paraded around beyond them. I watched with envy, hoping to glimpse the party goers as I took my seat.

  Lynn set her clutch on the table and pointed toward the ladies’ room. “I’ll be right back.”

  The bustle of the crowd behind me caused me to smile, knowing someone was celebrating something brought me joy. Laughter would peek out from the conversation every now and then, and I knew they were enjoying themselves.

  Just as I opened the menu, a hand grazed my knee. Dropping the paper to the table, preparing to curse someone out for trying to cop a cheap feel, I stopped with my mouth partially open. The sea of suits had turned, and all eyes focused on me. Unable to catch my breath, my hand clutched at my heart—I recognized every one of those people. And there, on the floor in front of me, was Brett—kneeling.

  My heart and lungs finally caught up with each other, but the breaths were deep, and the beats were hard. I sat in stunned silence, and Brett’s hand still sat casually on my knee. The crowd was eerily still, and the silence was deafening. He hadn’t moved, but the light caught my attention as it reflected off the signature pale blue box open in his other hand. The fingers that had clutched my heart covered my mouth, and my eyes found Brett’s for the first time.

  He brushed away the tears trailing down my cheeks with the pad of his thumb and held my gaze for an impossibly long time. There were people staring at us from every direction, but I couldn’t bring myself to rush the moment or pull my sight from the flecks of gold dancing in his stunning green eyes. Instead of listening to the words I should have etched into my brain, I memorized the details of his irises sparkling back at me.