by BJ Harvey
“It’s a newly created population biology research position at Lincoln Park Zoo.”
“Wow. Congratulations. That’s what you always wanted. Working with animals and coming up with new ways to protect them, and at your favorite zoo.”
Her gaze softens. “You remember? I can’t even think how old I was when I first went there.”
“I may not know when you first went, but I do remember when we went together at fourteen. It was around the time I was trying to build up the nerve to tell my best friend I was in love with her. I begged Jamie to lend me some money, and had to do his chores for two weeks to pay him back.” Faith giggles, covering her mouth with one hand.
“Now I know when you’re talking about because Jamie made you do more than your fair share. Didn’t he add in extra jobs like washing the cars and clearing out the gutters?” she asks. “I didn’t realize why you were doing it at the time. I just figured you had gotten into trouble and that was your punishment.”
“Well, that too. I didn’t exactly tell Mom and Dad where we were going, and when Cohen let it slip, I got reamed out when I got home.”
She frowns. “Why don’t I know any of this?”
I dip my chin, fighting hard against the grin. If I were still that nerdy teenager, I’d be embarrassed. Now, as a man with enough years under his belt, I can look back and see how ridiculous I acted before Faith and I got together. “Because the things I came up with to try and get your attention were so dumb. It’s a wonder I didn’t get grounded more than I did.”
“But Jax was the one who was always getting in trouble.”
I chuckle at that. “It was a pretty even split between him and me, and he’d often take the heat for me too.”
Her brows bunch together. “Why would he do that?”
“’Cause he’s a hopeless romantic?” I deadpan, adding in a shrug for good measure.
Faith rolls her eyes. “And I’m the queen of England. Back then, the most romantic Jax ever got was asking girls if they needed a free breast exam, and telling them he needed volunteers.”
I snort, trying to stifle my laughter but failing. That ruse got Jax around more bases than a hitter at an all-star game. He was a legend around school for our whole freshman year.
“Jax was always the president of the Bryant and Faith fan club.”
She snorts. “Are you serious?”
My grin widens. “You ask next time you see him.”
“I’m so doing that. I thought for sure he didn’t like the fact I broke up the famous Cook twins.”
I shake my head. “He knew more than anyone how far gone I was for you, even before you threw yourself at me.”
Her mouth drops open, her eyes wide. “I thought for sure he’d hate me.”
For breaking my heart.
It’s probably time for a change in topic. There’s no way I want to go down the road of reliving past decisions on our first night in our new—albeit temporary—home.
“When do you start work?” I ask.
“Next Monday. I wanted a week to get settled into Chicago life and…”
“Married life?” My smirk is huge.
“Something like that,” she says dryly. “Although, that particular detail wasn’t exactly anticipated.”
“I bet it wasn’t.” My eyes fall to her left hand, my ring on her finger where it should’ve been for years.
Silence stretches between us and my eyes drift to the television. I finish my beer and lean over to place the empty bottle on the ground.
I turn my head, watching her watch the game. It can’t be this easy. There should be anger, hurt, a mountain of resentment that I should be struggling to overcome. But seeing her like this—still being the Faith I knew—I can’t be anything other than grateful. To what extent that feeling goes is still unknown.
“Got any plans tomorrow?” she asks softly, grabbing my attention. My eyes lift to hers, knowing she would’ve caught me watching her.
“I think the guys are coming over in the afternoon so we can come up with a plan of attack for demolition. The contractors turn up on-site at seven a.m. Monday morning. Why’s that?”
“Would you like to come car shopping with me next weekend? I’ll probably use public transport more often than not since that’s what I’m used to from living in Sydney, but a car would still be nice for when I need to see Mom and Dad and Delilah, and probably Ez too.” Her eyes brighten when she talks about her family. Another thing she missed out on while she was away. Mr. and Mrs. Baker did fly Down Under to see her while she was still studying, but there’s a huge difference between talking on the phone and being able to see the people you love in the flesh. It definitely heals old wounds.
“Sounds fun. We can head out Saturday morning if you want. Maybe get some lunch while we’re out.”
“Yeah. It’s a date,” she replies, her eyes softening.
We fall into comfortable silence again
“Regret saying yes yet?” I tease.
“Nope. You helped me move in, saved me from Incy Wincy, let me feed and water you after driving that monster you call a truck,” she says with a grin, lifting her beer bottle into the air. “And you let me off providing a dowry for our arranged marriage. I’d say for our first full day of married life, you’re ending it a winner.”
My gaze roams her face before fixating on those lips of hers, remembering how they felt against mine when the judge announced I could kiss my bride. It doesn’t matter how uncertain we might have felt in that moment—there was no way I was going to let our wedding ceremony pass without sealing it with a kiss. My ring is on her finger, she’s living under the same roof as me, and maybe—okay, hopefully—one day soon, we’ll share the same bed.
Taking her in—same brown hair just a little longer, crystal green eyes wise with experience, a body she’s definitely more comfortable in than she used to be, and a smile that still has the power to render me speechless—one thing is clear. Irrespective of any unresolved emotions and feelings either of us still have to unpack and process in the coming weeks and months, I’m resolute in the decision I made that led us here.
I’ve always believed slow and steady wins the race.
If waiting twelve years proves anything, it’s that I’m a patient man.
And if car shopping and lunch is our first date as a married couple, then I’m gonna make sure it’s the best first date this husband and wife ever have.
8
Faith
“Hello?”
“Bakes, it’s Delilah.”
“I know. My phone came up with your name,” I say, deadpan. I love my sister to pieces but her husband, Flynn, is a saint for putting up with her somewhat ditzy behavior. She makes it cute though… sometimes…
“Ah, yeah. So how’s it all going?”
“You mean life? God? The universe at large?”
“No, nerd. I mean being married to Bryant and living together again?”
“I know. I was just fucking with you. It’s good. Weird, very strange,” I say, lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. “He saved me from a spider yesterday.”
“Well, we all know you hate bugs. That’s not exactly a new thing. Why you moved to the one country with all the dangerous bugs and snakes, I don’t know.”
“The only snakes I ever saw were at Taronga Zoo where I worked, but yes, the bugs were an issue.”
“Didn’t stop you living there.”
“Nope. That’s what a six-monthly fumigation regime is for. I wasn’t taking any risks because I didn’t have anyone to rescue me.”
“And now you do…” she says, her tone all-knowing and sneaky. “That would be the perfect way to get into his bed. Maybe you can’t sleep because you’re scared there’s a spider on the ceiling.”
“Delilah-Jane, are you saying I should manipulate my way into my husband’s bed?”
“Firstly, don’t full-name me, and second, why not? You know one of the things you have to overcome—and it’s probably the e
asiest—is the physical aspect. There shouldn’t be any barriers in that regard because it’s not like you cheated on him or he cheated on you. You simply said no and left the country before he could do anything about it.”
“Thanks for the ride down Memory Lane,” I murmur dryly.
“What? You can’t seriously believe none of that is going to come up. And I saw the way he looked at you at City Hall. I’m surprised you didn’t melt there and then.”
“Oh, I did.” I laugh. “But jumping him before knowing him again would be a huge mistake.”
“An enjoyable one, though.”
I shake my head against my pillow. “Be that as it may, I waited years to give him my virginity. I can wait as long as it takes this time around.”
“Uh, so just in case you’ve forgotten, your hymen doesn’t grow back, and I know you haven’t been living the life of a nun for twelve years.”
“Well, no…”
“Exactly. I get you’re emotionally invested in this reunion, and I think we’re all hoping it works out. But seriously, Bakes, you have to jump his bones; otherwise, there’s no way you two will survive your past. Physical intimacy first, then rebuild the emotional kind.”
“Is that your professional opinion?” I ask.
“As an amateur marriage counselor/wife of seven years? Yes. Men are visual creatures. I often distract Flynn with sex when I need to. It’s not the healthiest way to deal with confrontation, but by the time we get around to talking about the original issue, he’s definitely a hell of a lot more relaxed.”
“That’s so bad.”
“But oh-so-good. You should try it sometime.”
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
“You’re okay, though?” she asks, and my heart swells. Del and I were always close, with Abi Cook making up our little female triad. It was strength in numbers against the five brothers we had between us.
“Yeah, I’m okay. We should get the triad together for a catch-up,” I say.
“There is no triad anymore. People grow up and move on.”
“And Abi isn’t exactly a big fan of my current marital status.”
“It’s more her protecting her brother. It’s the same thing that Ezra and I were doing when we tried talking you out of it before the ceremony. But now…”
“Now?”
“You sound different. I can’t put my finger on it, but on Saturday, you were unsure. Tuesday morning, you were literally shaking while waiting for the Cooks to arrive.”
“I was nervous,” I say, dryly. “I can honestly say Bry threw me for a loop. I expected him to spew hate at me and kick me out, not propose marriage.”
“Would you do it differently now?”
“It’s only been two days.” When she doesn’t reply, I feel the need to qualify that statement. “It’s been a good two days though.”
“Then keep going. One good day, one bad day, one nothing day at a time. That’s my sisterly advice for today.”
“Thanks, Del.”
“Anytime. Now, when can I bring Harvey for a ‘my aunt works at a zoo’ playdate?” Harvey is Del’s six-year-old son.
I snort then sigh down the phone. “Can we at least let me start the job before I call in favors with the zookeepers?”
“Yeah, maybe,” she replies with a giggle. “You can explain that to him when you come to dinner next week.”
“Are you inviting me or demanding my attendance?” I muse.
“A bit of both—and bring your husband. Flynn wants to interrogate him.”
I frown. “Isn’t it a bit late for that?”
“Meh. Let him do it and feel like he’s doing his protective duty for his sister-in-law.”
That makes me smile. “Okay,” I reply quietly.
“I’ll text you with a day and time for dinner.”
“Sounds good, Del. Then I can check with Bry and let you know.”
“Aww, look at you being all wife-like.”
“Shut it.” I’m beaming now. “I’m still a baby wife.”
“Yeah,” she says warmly. “But I have all the faith in the world in you.”
“No pun intended.”
“Of course it was intended. Love you.”
“Love you too. I might go do some laundry—see if that levels me up in the wife stakes.”
“You even have a laundry in that shack?”
“Ezra has been gossiping again,” I say with a giggle. “It’s a charming shack, and for the time being, it’s our little shack, and yes, it has a laundry.”
“All right then. I’ll text you next week.”
“Bye, Del,” I say, and end the call.
I drop my arm and phone onto the bed. I’m lying there, staring up at the ceiling, my mind running over all the things Del said when something compels me to look. There I find Bryant wearing a Doctor Who T-shirt, one arm bent as he leans against the door frame, watching me.
“Are you creeping on me?” I ask, trying to remember whether I may have said anything incriminating on the phone.
“Nah, I’m just looking for spiders,” he says without missing a beat.
I prop myself up on my elbows and glare at him. “That’s so not funny.”
“Who said I was joking,” he says, his lips twitching as he makes a show of scanning the room.
“You’re so mean. Why are you so mean to me?” I say, pouting.
He just shakes his head, my jutted-out bottom lip obviously having no effect. “It’s in a nice, joking way, I swear.”
I roll my eyes. “How can I help you today, Mr. Cook?”
His smile widens. “Well, Mrs. Cook, the guys are about to arrive, and I thought you might wanna come see what magic we’re planning on enacting to turn this ‘shack’ into a palace.”
I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. It’s then I remember I’m still only wearing a T-shirt and underwear. My head jerks to Bryant, whose gaze is firmly locked on my bare thighs. His jaw tenses, and he slowly lifts his chin. He may be trying to be a gentleman and not get his fill, but there’s no missing the flash of heat in his eyes.
“They’re about ten minutes away. I’ll leave you to get dressed.”
I nod, words escaping me as my cheeks heat. He has one last look before turning on his heels and disappearing from sight.
I huff out a breath. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, and it’s not like I was lounging around, naked. Moving to my feet, I shrug and move to the door to close it. If I’m honest, I’m a little peeved—or maybe disappointed is more accurate—by his response. He said, ‘I do.’ That means living together and yes, seeing me in various states of dress and undress. Shouldn’t he want to take a good look when his wife is showing a little skin?
Del’s words ring in my ear. I have thought about the physical side of my relationship with Bryant. Once we finally crossed that threshold of ditching the V-cards—in a cliched, senior-prom-night-hotel-room situation, no less—we weren’t exactly prudes or chaste. In fact, we went at it every chance we could get. I know the situation is different now, but I’m still a hot-blooded woman who enjoys sex, and I’m not going to cover up around what is now my own home to protect whatever sensibilities my new husband may have. He’s just going to have to get used to seeing my skin. Who knows? My sister could be right. Maybe I do need to remind him that despite everything that happened, there were things we were very good at.
Just not now, when my brother and his brothers are about to arrive. But soon… very soon. It’s time to show Bryant what life with me is going to be like. He needs to know that I may be older and wiser, but I’m still the same girl who stole his heart all those years ago.
Now I’m just a hell of a lot more confident in my body, and that is something I definitely can’t wait to show him.
With that thought in mind, I quickly get dressed and open the door to find the man in question. Time to turn this shack into a palace.
I almost reach the living area when there’s a knock at the door. Cha
nging direction, I swing it open to find Ez, Jax, Cohen, and two men I don’t know standing on the porch.
“Hey.”
“Bakes,” Ez says, stepping forward and pulling me in for a hug. From there, Jax and Cohen follow, Cohen less enthusiastic than his brother, but I already guessed it would take a little more effort to win the youngest Cook brother over than it would the others.
“This is Matt and Jason. They own the construction company we use for the flips,” Jax explains, introducing the other two men.
“I saw you at the wedding, but didn’t get a chance to introduce myself,” Matt says, holding out his hand to shake.
Jason grins and also shakes my hand, shooting me a wink as he does it. “That’s probably ’cause Bryant was shooting daggers at any man who got close to her.”
My eyes widen. All I remember is Bryant staying clear of me for the entire reception. It was only at the end of the night when we swapped phone numbers, and he told me the time to meet at City Hall, that he finally spoke to me. He was always a little possessive—in a nice, protective, kind of hot way—when we were together. That sparks at least some hope in me, knowing that even before the ceremony, he still felt that way.
“Hey,” Bryant says, moving in close to my back. I feel his heat, but he doesn’t touch me. “Come in. We might as well stand around the dining table so we can lay out Ezra’s plans.”
They all follow him through the wide double doors leading toward the kitchen and dining area, leaving me to follow behind.
Ez waits for me, and swings an arm around my shoulder, looking down at me. “How’s it going?”
“It’s fine.”
He lifts a brow, silently asking for more information.
“Okay, it’s been fine so far. No arguments; not much weirdness. It’s almost like—”
“You never left?”
“Yes and no,” I say on a sigh. “We shared takeout on the couch last night. It wasn’t awkward or anything, but there’s this wall up between us.”
“And that’s to be expected,” Ez replies.