“No problem. See you Monday.”
He hops in the refrigerated truck and drives away, as the rest of us head out as well.
“I have one more stop,” Brooke informs me. “And then, you’re off the hook. You survived a whole week of designing and delivering flowers.”
“It was actually really fun,” I reply and reach over to twist a strand of hair that escaped around my finger. “I had a great week.”
“I’m glad.” She grins over at me. “I had a great week, too. I’m going to drop by my house first to change these clothes.”
“Sounds good.”
It only takes her a few moments to run inside and change into a tank top and a pair of shorts, immediately igniting my imagination and waking my cock from its lazy, post coital slumber.
“Great,” she says when she jumps back in the car. “This is much better.”
“Agreed.”
She laughs, puts the car into gear, and drives us across town to a large house. There are several cars parked out front, with a play area for kids along the side. We climb out of the car, and she retrieves a bouquet from the back of her SUV.
She stops in front of me and bites her lip. “You know, you may not be able to go inside.”
“Why?”
“This is a safe house for women and children who need a place to stay after escaping abusive situations, and they frown on male visitors.”
My face stays passive, but I suddenly feel like I have lead in my stomach. Why wasn’t this here when I was a kid?
Would my mother have come here with me?
“I’ll be fine here,” I assure her. Brooke rewards me with a bright smile and jogs up the steps to the front door.
Just after she disappears, another car pulls up next to Brooke’s, and Micah climbs out, frowning when he sees me.
“Hey,” he says. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for Brooke. She had a delivery.” I narrow my eyes as he takes a deep breath, looking up and down the street. “What are you doing?”
He pushes his hand through his hair. “I, uh, live here. With my mom.”
What?
“I see. I had no idea, Micah.”
“Well, it’s not like I wear it on my sleeve that I have a piece of shit dad who likes to use us as a punching bag,” he says. “There’s no reason that you’d know.”
“You’re right.”
He’s completely right.
“Anyway, I should go in and make sure Mom’s okay. Thanks for your help with the wedding.”
“I had fun. Have a good weekend.”
Micah waves and disappears inside, and I feel like I’ve just been kicked in the fucking face.
Of course I wouldn’t know that Micah came from an abusive family, any more than anyone in this town would have known that I came from the same thing.
Because I didn’t speak up. I was scared and embarrassed, and I kept it to myself.
They couldn’t read my mind. They didn’t protect me because they didn’t know that I needed protecting.
Jesus, why has it taken me all of these years to figure this out?
“Ready!” Brooke announces as she bounces down the stairs to join me at her car. “Sorry for leaving you out in the heat.”
“I understand,” I reply, swallowing the bile in my throat. “I saw Micah.”
She frowns and sighs deeply. “Yeah. He and his mom, Judy, have been living there for almost a year.”
“You knew?”
“Of course.” She frowns over at me before looking back to the road. “He works for me, and he would cringe when he carried the flowers into the cooler. His ribs were bruised. The fucker liked to kick him where he knew the bruises wouldn’t show.”
Fuck.
“So, I talked Judy into taking Micah there, and they’ve been thriving. She’s filed for divorce, and her soon-to-be ex moved to Idaho for a job.”
“But they’re still living in the safe house?”
“Yeah, because Judy is disabled and Micah is working his ass off, but it’s not enough to support them both. Thankfully, there’s been plenty of space for them there.”
I clear my throat, and then run my hand through my hair.
“What’s wrong?” Brooke asks. She passes her house and keeps driving, and I’m glad. I don’t want this shit to purge out of me in her home.
“I know how Micah feels,” I say and hold my breath as she chews this information over in her head.
“In what way?”
“Glen used to beat the holy hell out of me.”
She gasps and pulls over next to a park, currently empty, and gets out of the car, walking quickly to the swings that are under the shade of a giant maple tree.
I follow her, sit in the swing next to hers, and expect to see pity in her eyes when I look at her, but I just see anger.
“Whoa, are you mad?”
“No, I’m fucking pissed,” she says, then takes a long, deep breath. “How long did he hurt you?”
“Three years.”
“And you never said anything.”
I shake my head, digging the toe of my shoe in the dirt under the swing.
“You just decided to stop being my friend. Why did you do that?”
“Because I was embarrassed. Hell, I’m still embarrassed.”
“You were a child, Brody. And he was a grown man. There was nothing for you to be embarrassed about.”
“I see that now, trust me. At the time, Glen was hot shit in this town, and I was just a kid. And trust me, I know I was stupid. I thought someone would read my mind and magically help me.”
“Oh, my God.” She digs her fingers into her eye sockets. “All that time, and I thought you just hated me.”
“No, I was worried that you’d think badly of me when you found out that Glen used to enjoy kicking me in the gut until I coughed up blood.”
She shakes her head, watching me with incredulous eyes. “My God, Brody. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Or anyone else’s. Mom tried to stop him, but he would just do the same to her.”
“Fuck, all that time everyone thought he was such a great man. The whole town mourned him when he died.”
“I didn’t,” I admit. “I fucking danced. And what does that say about me?”
“It says that the man who terrorized you could no longer hurt you.”
I take a ragged breath and nod. “Yeah. I offered so many times to take Mom away over the years before she died. She always refused. Always so damn loyal to him.”
“Maybe she was afraid too, and not strong enough to be as brave as you were.”
“Brave?” I scoff and then flat-out laugh. “Right. I fucking ran away.”
“Exactly. And she never could.”
I think about that for a long moment, then take another breath and look over at the most beautiful woman in the world. It feels like the world has been lifted off my shoulders. “I feel better. I’m glad we talked.”
“Good.” She stands out of her swing, and climbs on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and planting her gorgeous, plump lips on mine. She kisses me until my dick is at full mast.
“We’re in public,” I murmur against her lips.
“I’d take you to my place, but it’s so hot in there that we’d die.” She giggles against me, and my cock throbs.
“Let’s go to the hotel. It’s closer anyway. And I have a great view of the lake.”
“Good idea.”
She hurries to her car, and we drive the short distance to the hotel on the lake. Once we’ve given her car to the valet, and we’re up in my room, she wanders around the space while biting her lip and checking out the view.
She suddenly seems nervous.
“What’s up, sweetheart?”
“Nothing,” she lies, kicking up a shoulder and avoiding my gaze.
“Look at me. What’s going on in your gorgeous head?”
“Okay. I need to say this, just to make sure we’re on the sa
me page.”
“Shoot.”
“I am not having sex with you just to get you to keep the building.”
And just like that, I see bright, flaming red.
“What the hell, Brooke?”
“I’m just saying—”
“Don’t you ever insult yourself, or me, like that ever again. Me being in love with you has nothing at all to do with our business arrangement.”
Chapter Eight
~Brooke~
I stare at him, blinking, certain that I’ve just heard him wrong.
“Um, what?”
He shoves his hand through his hair, in that way he does when he’s especially frustrated, then props his hands on his hips and licks his lips.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“You sure did.” I cock a brow.
I love you too! God, I love him.
“You’re not saying anything.”
“Nope.”
I want to giggle. I want to do a little dance, and then jump in his arms and let him make love to me until we’re both a sweaty, exhausted heap of flesh.
But I really want to hear his words first.
“I do love you,” he says, swallowing hard. “I thought that would be harder to say. I’ve never said it to anyone else, not since my mom.”
I walk to him now and take his hand in mine, linking our fingers.
“You’ve surprised the hell out of me this week,” he says.
“Same.” I lean in to kiss his shoulder, and he presses his lips against my forehead, making me grin.
Forehead kisses from Brody are just the best.
“You’re so damn smart, Brooke. And sweet. So fucking sweet.”
He leads me to the bed and strips me bare, both physically and emotionally as he lists all of the many reasons that he’s nuts about me.
I’ve never been more turned on in my life.
When I’m fully naked and writhing beneath him, he continues to pepper my skin with wet kisses.
“Brody.”
“Yes, baby.”
“You’re making me crazy here.”
He grins up at me. “That’s my plan.”
I smile, scissor my hips, and push against his chest, reversing our positions. I turn the tables on him, kissing his body, rubbing myself over him, and when he’s groaning and moving uncontrollably, I rise up and lower myself over him, taking us both on the ride of our lives.
* * * *
“I love you too, you know,” I murmur later when we’re recovered and tucked under the covers, watching the boats skim over the lake through the large windows. “And this view.”
“Whoa, don’t change the subject.” He tips my chin up so he can look me in the eyes. “Back up.”
“I didn’t want to say it when we were having sex because that just seems… I know, cliché. But I do love you, too. And I’m grateful that you inherited my building and came here to try to kick me out of it.”
“I wasn’t kicking you out exactly.”
“I remember receiving a letter that said I had to leave.”
“Okay, I was kicking you out.”
I laugh and drag my fingers down his cheek. “But I need you to know that after this past week, even if you’d decided to sell, I still would have fallen in love with you.”
“You would have been pissed.”
I nod immediately, not denying it in the least. “Oh yeah. I would have been pissed. And heartbroken. But I would still be here.”
“I don’t ever want to break your heart,” he replies, kissing my forehead again. “What do we want to do with the rest of our day? It’s early yet.”
“Hmm.” I tap my lips and squint my eyes, like I’m thinking really, really hard. “Let’s order room service and spend the rest of the day in bed.”
“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”
* * * *
“Jesus, Ed makes the best damn pancakes in the world,” Brody says the next morning. We’re sitting in Ed’s Diner, which is full to the brim with a few other locals and about a billion tourists.
It is summer in Cunningham Falls, after all.
“And the best omelets,” I agree, taking a bite of my Denver omelet.
“It’s damn loud in here.”
I nod and glance around, a little sad that I don’t recognize many of the customers. It’s good for business because, although tourists don’t usually buy many flowers, I have a whole shop filled with gifts and fun things to browse through and take home.
But the traffic suffers, and some of our sanity suffers along with it.
“It’s amazing how the town has grown,” Brody comments. “It seems to me that the infrastructure of the town wasn’t built for this kind of growth in tourism.”
“You’re right,” I reply. “If we’d come any later this morning, we never would have been able to park. Downtown is a nightmare in the summer.”
“Is it worse in the winter, with ski season?”
“No, because a lot of the traffic is actually up on the mountain,” I reply easily. “In the summer, people come for all outdoor activities, not just the mountain, although there is still a lot of interest up there for biking, hiking, zip lining, and a bunch of other things that the owner has done.”
“Interesting,” he says, nodding.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m an engineer, so all of this is fascinating to me, that’s all. There are ways to alleviate the congestion, but it’s expensive.”
“I like it when you start to use your professional terms,” I say with a smile. “It’s sexy.”
He laughs, takes his last bite of pancake, and pushes his plate away.
“You’re funny, Brooke.” He reaches over to take my hand and gives it a little squeeze. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
I blink at him, dumbfounded.
“What is it?” he asks.
“You’re still leaving today?”
“Of course.” He frowns, and I feel the earth fall out from under me. “I was always leaving today. You knew that.”
“I thought—” I scowl and look down at the table, unable to finish the sentence.
So fucking stupid.
“Let’s go.” He signals for our waitress, pays the tab, and leads me out to the car. I drive us to my house where his car is waiting for him, quiet the whole way.
What is there to say? We just admitted to loving each other yesterday, and now he’s leaving.
It sucks. And I don’t know what this means for us.
When I pull into my driveway, I immediately get out of the car and march inside my house, opening windows and doors to get a cross breeze going.
This is the first time I can say that I hate my house. I should have installed the fucking air conditioning.
“Stop,” Brody says softly. He’s standing in the middle of my living room, his hands in his pockets, watching me with tormented eyes.
“What?”
“Stop this. You’re running about here like mad, and you just look pissed off. We need to talk about this.”
I feel my shoulders fall in defeat. “I don’t mean to sound like a bitch here, Brody, but I’m not sure what there is to talk about. You’re leaving, and I’m here. So, thanks? It was fun? Have a nice life?”
“Are you assuming that I’m never coming back?”
“No, you have a building here, so I guess you’ll be back now and then.”
“I’m coming back,” he insists and pulls me to him, lowering his mouth to mine in one of his Olympic-style kisses. “I can’t give you a timeline, but I am coming back.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t believe me.”
I sigh. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I think you want to come back. But you have a job, and a life, and so do I. So, I just think it’s going to be hard.”
“I don’t just have a job, I own the firm.”
“You do?”
“Yes. So, I have some things to get in order, bu
t it’s not impossible.”
“Owning the firm only complicates things,” I argue, shaking my head.
“It’s not forever,” he promises, then checks his phone. “And I’d better go. I have to pack my things at the hotel and turn in my car before my flight in just over two hours.”
I stare at him, and I want to beg him to extend his trip one more day. One more week.
But I can’t do that. He’s already done so much for me by staying this past week.
“I didn’t realize you were leaving so early in the day.”
Do not get needy, Brooke. No one likes that.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He kisses me once more, and I know this kiss is goodbye.
Whether it’s goodbye for now, or goodbye for good, only time will tell.
“Be safe.”
He smiles and frames my face. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
One more forehead kiss, and Brody is out the door. I don’t watch as he pulls out of my driveway and away from my house.
Watching him go just seems like torture.
Last week, when I asked him to stay so I could prove a point, I had no idea that I’d be standing here, feeling like my whole world was about to implode. That I’d fall in love so completely and deeply, that for the first time in my life I would actually consider begging him to stay.
I’m not a begger.
And he’s not here.
Chapter Nine
~Brody~
I haven’t heard her voice in days. There just hasn’t been time. I’m getting real tired of texts.
When I arrived in San Francisco, I came immediately to the office, and I haven’t left since I got here. I’ve been working night and day to try to wrap this up and get back to Montana.
But as I stare at my team around the conference table, I’m beginning to lose hope that going to Montana will become a reality any time soon.
“Why didn’t anyone contact me and fill me in on this while I was gone?” I demand. We lost a multi-million dollar client five days ago.
Five days.
“You weren’t here,” Brian Masters says with a shrug. “They were going to pull the plug with or without you.”
“But probably less so if I’d had a fucking heads up so I could make some goddamn phone calls,” I reply, and there’s absolute stillness in the room.
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