by Abby Niles
“Okay, one more time,” Brody said after he took a swig of his beer.
He set the bottle on a nearby table then tapped the white ball with his paddle so it bounced over to her side. Again, she swiped it harder than she meant to, and it went whizzing toward him. He threw up both arms, protecting his head. The ball bounced off his forearm. “That’s it. There’s no hope for you.”
She snickered and laid her paddle down. “Let’s go for a swim.”
Ever since they’d come outside, the pool had been beckoning her.
Brody seemed to freeze. “We need bathing suits.”
“I have mine on.” She waved toward his beige cargo shorts. “And those look like swim trunks to me.”
They didn’t, but still. It was two in the morning. There was hardly anyone out here. Who was going to say anything?
Yet, he seemed to hesitate.
“Come on, Brody. The pool’s packed during the day. We’ll have it all to ourselves.”
He finally nodded. “It’s your night. Let’s go.”
She did another happy dance, and he laughed. “You are so easy to please.”
She stiffened. It’d been a long time since a man had said she was easy to please. Over the last few years, she had been made to believe nothing ever pleased her. That she was always miserable. Nothing was ever good enough.
The thing was, the reason she’d been so miserable was because she’d been alone. Married, but alone. All she’d wanted was Ryan’s attention again. To feel a connection with her partner. To not have him come home with flowers, or a necklace, then leave again. She wanted his time.
“Why? Because I want to swim?” she said, trying to brush off the statement.
“Nah. You just want to have fun.”
She shrugged and started toward the pool. “Remembering the fun times helps you through the darker ones. All life has them.”
He fell into step beside her. “You haven’t had a lot of fun lately, have you?”
She evaded the question. “Not in a while.”
More like years.
But she didn’t want to go there. Not with Brody. He already knew too much about her marriage. He didn’t need to know that her infertility had started the demise of their relationship. Since Brody had been unaware of the affair, she had to assume Ryan had never confided in him about that, either.
Typical Ryan, though. Appearances meant a lot to him.
After Ryan said no to more attempts, she’d gone through a very dark, depressing time, trying to accept she was never going to be a mother. While she struggled with her emotions, he took out his frustration at never being a father on her. He grew angry, spiteful…bitter. Became a stranger. She kept looking for glimpses of the man she married, but he was gone.
In hindsight, they should’ve ended their marriage two years ago. Sometimes it was just hard to call it quits when there was a tiny hope that maybe they’d find common ground again and be able to mend the distance between them.
But then he found himself a fertile woman to replace her with—and they were having a baby.
Ryan was going to be a father. But she wasn’t going to be a mother. Bitterness didn’t even begin to describe how she felt about that.
“This topic brings me down,” she said. “I’ve had a great night. I’d like for it to end like that.”
Without another word, Brody pulled his shirt off over his head. Her throat went dry at the expanse of tanned, toned muscles in front of her. Yep, that was one way to distract her. Her eyes traveled over the comic-book inspired sleeve he sported. She’d always loved that tattoo.
“You’ve added a new frame, I see.”
He held out his arm and ran his finger over the Hulk slamming his mighty green fist into the street. Asphalt sprayed out into the sky, with the caption Hulk Smash! in bright red underneath. He turned his arm over so the underside was showing. Another comic frame contained an amazingly detailed Iron Man with his arms crossed over his chest. Above him in a speech bubble were the words, “We have a Hulk.”
She ran the tip of her finger over the ink. “Tony Stark said that, not Iron Man.”
“Tony Stark is Iron Man,” he said with a grin, then he chuckled. “Only you would call me out on that.”
She shrugged. “Just saying. When did you get it?”
“About eight months ago. I did it in between fights. I have a couple more frames I’d like to add. One with Hawkeye. Then, of course, Deadpool.” He shot her an expectant look.
“Now that I can’t wait to see.”
Deadpool was her favorite. He knew that, since he used to take her to all the superhero movies that came out. Ryan abhorred superheroes. But Brody hadn’t been there to take her to see Deadpool. She’d gone alone…had thought about him, wondered if he was also sitting in a theater somewhere on opening night.
“Hopefully I’ll get it finished after this fight.”
“When is it?”
“Three months. When I get back, I’ll have to throw myself hard-core into training.”
“You looking forward to it?”
He grimaced. “This topic brings me down. I’ve had a great night. I’d like for it to end that way.”
His parroted words caused her to chuckle. “Duly noted. Let’s swim.”
Scarlett unzipped the side zipper on her dress then pushed the shoulder straps over her shoulders. The dress slipped off her frame and pooled at her feet. She then looked at Brody. He stood motionless, his heated gaze locked on her body.
Instantly, her nipples puckered, as desire warmed her blood. Knowing what happened last time things got heated between them, and not wanting this night to end yet, she kicked off her high-heel slides, jogged to the pool, and jumped in, welcoming the cool rush of water that enveloped her.
As she broke the surface, Brody jumped in, causing a huge splash. The water hit her in the face, and she saw the perfect opportunity to make everything playful again. So far tonight, there hadn’t been any tension between them, she wanted to keep it that way. She waited until he popped back up. As soon as he did, she used both hands to splash him.
He sputtered then stared at her. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
Then he retaliated by sending a huge wave her way. Laughing, they both tried to douse each other with as much water as they could. Brody with his large arms and hands won each time. Coming up behind him, she heaved herself out of the water by his broad shoulders and pushed down. He went under easily…too easily.
As he surfaced, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to his chest. “That wasn’t nice.”
Sweeping her up into his arms, he dipped her backward so her head was submerged, then he righted her. As soon as she took a breath, he dunked her again. Water poured down her face and into her mouth, and she sputtered. With one arm tight around his neck, she used the other to clear the water and hair from her eyes.
He went to dunk her under again. Desperate to catch her breath, she folded her other arm around him and kicked loose of his hold. As soon as his arms fell away, she repositioned and wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Uncle,” she muttered.
No response came from him. He wasn’t moving, either. If anything, he was rigid. She glanced up from the water to his face. Naked heat greeted her. His obvious arousal jutted up, getting acquainted with her butt cheeks. Clinging to him had been a bad move. There was nothing innocent about their position. Brody was between her thighs. Desire flared through her, causing her to throb.
They stared at each other, the air thick. She waited. Would he bolt again? Or would he finally kiss her?
Eyes locked with hers, Brody walked a matter of five steps until her back hit the wall of the pool. His mouth crashed down on hers. Gasping, she tightened her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue sailed past her lips. Sensations exploded inside her. Never before had she experienced such feelings from a kiss.
Fingers tangled in her hair, then he tugged her head back. The light pain of h
aving her hair pulled sent another jolt of lust slamming through her. His lips skimmed her jaw, down her neck, and over her collarbone. Her breathing escalated, coming in sharp, quick puffs. Every cell of her body was alive, and she wanted to go with it.
He released her hair and moved his hand to her waist, his thumb caressing the skin under the curvature of her breast. She needed him to touch her.
Silently asking, she arched her upper body toward him. He slid his palm up, covering the aching flesh in his large hand. It wasn’t enough. She wanted him to devour her. To help her release this tension that was growing wilder with each passing second.
A whimper escaped her lips. He pinched her nipple. In response, she ground against the hard ridge proudly standing between her legs. She’d silently asked once and had gotten what she wanted. Maybe silently asking again…
His entire body stiffened, and his head snapped up from her neck. For a long moment, he stared at her as if he couldn’t believe she was actually in his arms. Then he latched onto her legs, tugged himself free, and waded back a good ten feet. He shoved a hand through his wet hair. “Fuck.”
Stunned at his one-eighty, she could only blink at him.
He continued to back away. “This can’t happen. I’m sorry. That went too far.”
“Why not?”
“You know why, Scarlett.”
Her damned ex. With everything the son of bitch had done to her, Brody’s loyalty to him hurt even more—especially after having a small taste of the way he made her body come alive.
“So, what I want doesn’t matter?”
A helpless expression crossed his face. “It’s not that simple for me.”
Feeling the sting of rejection, she looked away. It was even worse that he was picking Ryan over her. There was an undeniable, intense attraction between Brody and her. She wanted to explore those feelings, embrace the way he made her body feel. After years of having Ryan belittle her in the bedroom, it felt amazing to have her body truly respond to a man again.
And Brody was choosing Ryan.
He must not feel the attraction the same way she did. Not shocking, considering. Brody was a single, extremely hot man. He probably had women climbing in and out of his bed. He hadn’t felt dead inside for years. Hadn’t just had a reawakening of pure lust.
“I’m sorry, Scarlett.”
Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. If he apologized one more time…
She sent him a strained smile. “It’s fine. I understand. Don’t worry about it.”
He hesitated. “I—”
“Just go.” She glanced away again, afraid that he would see her pain. That wasn’t something she wanted to put on him. He hadn’t done anything other than be there for her. This pain was coming from the past, and he didn’t deserve the guilt.
Water splashed. She kept her eyes averted until the sound stopped, then she turned to where he’d been. The pool was empty.
And she was alone again.
…
The moment Brody slammed the door behind him, he stalked straight to the glass sitting on the mahogany table and swiped it across the room. It crashed against the wall, shattering to the floor
What the fuck had he done?
He shoved a hand through his hair, as he paced. Agitation made his strides jerky. Though Scarlett had tried to hide her hurt by avoiding his gaze, he’d seen it shining through, crystal clear. He never wanted to be the reason Scarlett felt hurt. Hell, he wanted to give her everything she’d ever desired and more.
He never should’ve agreed to the fucking swim. The second she’d suggested it, warnings had gone off in his head, screaming that it was a horrible idea.
But no.
His stupid ass couldn’t disappoint the woman. In the end, he’d done exactly that anyway.
Now he’d crossed the line. At least, his line.
He’d finally tasted the forbidden fruit, and like he’d always feared, one sample would never be enough. Her whimpers, her eagerness, had made his dick pulse with need. He wanted more—had used every bit of restraint he possessed to put distance between them, because right there in the pool, in front of any prying eyes, he could’ve taken her under the veil of water.
He rubbed his lips, her taste still lingered there—the mixture of lager and Scarlett. He could become addicted to that flavor. He feared that one sample had already gotten into his blood.
What the fuck was he going to do?
A light tap came from his door. Every muscle in his body stiffened. Scarlett?
He closed his eyes and tilted his head toward the ceiling. Don’t let it be her. He didn’t have the strength to turn her away again.
Another tap put him in motion. As he wrapped his fingers around the knob, he hesitated for a second before yanking the door open. Air gushed past his lips as he took in his weeping sister.
All thoughts of Scarlett and the mess he’d made were wiped from his mind as he stepped toward his baby sister, arms outstretched.
“Tessa?” he asked softly.
As a sob rushed out, she pressed her fingers to her lips and hurried into his waiting arms. He immediately enveloped her in a tight hug.
“I want kids,” she mumbled against his shirt.
Relief hit him. He would never make decisions for his sisters. Their lives were their own. But Tessa was meant to be a mother. He was thankful she’d chosen her needs over anything else.
He held her for a moment longer then led her into his room. “Big brother’s here. I’ll take care of everything.”
She pressed her face into his chest. “Why can’t love be simple?”
That was the question of the day.
“I don’t know, sweetie.” He kissed the top of her head. “For something that’s supposed to be awesome, it sure fucking sucks sometimes.”
She titled her head back. “What do you know about love?” There was a teasing tone underneath the sadness in her voice.
He knew more than anyone would ever believe. “Just seen enough with five sisters.”
“That you have.”
“I have to ask, Tessa. Are you sure?”
“No,” she said, honestly. “But I’m certain I can’t marry him tomorrow. That’s enough for now.”
He gestured to the couch—the one where just two nights ago another woman had lain after another man had made her cry. “I’ll make the arrangements. You just relax.”
Brody pulled out his phone. He hated the pain his sister was in, but she was also giving him an escape. It was a coward’s move, but this island was too small for him and Scarlett both. A few more days and he would really do something stupid that he couldn’t, or she couldn’t, take back.
When an agent answered the phone, Brody said, “I need the first available flight back to Atlanta, Georgia.”
…
Tessa called off the wedding. Took her home. I hope the rest of your vacation is great.
Scarlett read the missive for the tenth time and flipped the note over to stare at the blank back again.
That was it. How long had he taken to jot that down? Two seconds?
Maybe she should be thankful he’d been thoughtful enough to even write her a note. The convenience of the timing didn’t sit well. It seemed to her that Brody had taken the first escape route he’d been given to get the hell off this island.
Coward.
Whatever. Only a few days single, and she was already over the whole man thing. They were too much of a hassle, one she didn’t have time or patience for.
As the door to the room creaked open, Scarlett glanced up from Brody’s masculine scrawl. Delaney was hunkered down, sneaking into the room with her heels in one hand. Her dark hair was disheveled. Considering it was only five in the morning, she probably expected Scarlett to be fast asleep. As it was, she’d tossed and turned before getting up to watch some TV. Then the sheet of paper had been slipped under the door.
Delaney caught Scarlett watching her. She froze, muttering, “Shit.�
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“Walk of shame?”
“Shut up.” Delaney straightened and closed the door.
“Wow. It is the walk of shame. Did you hook up with Blake?”
A pleased, impish expression crossed her friend’s face. “I just had the most amazing drunk sex of my life.”
Scarlett’s mouth popped open. This was a turn of events. “I thought you weren’t looking to hook up while we were here.”
“I wasn’t,” Delaney said and shrugged. “It just happened. After we split off, Blake and I had so much fun listening to the band that one thing led to another and we ended up in his room.” She bit her lower lip. “That man did things with my body—” She blew out a breath. “Girl.”
“No regrets then?”
“Not a damn one. I haven’t felt this relaxed in months.”
“So, does this mean you’re interested?”
“In more than sex? Hell no. I just ended the terrible relationship I was in. If he wants to hook up a couple more times before we leave, I’m totally game, but he’s my ‘what happens in the Bahama stays in the Bahamas.’ I highly recommend getting yourself thoroughly fucked. It does a body good.”
Yeah. She’d tried. And failed.
“My night didn’t go the same. Brody kissed me and then freaked out.”
Delaney’s eyes bulged. “He kissed you?”
Scarlett gave her the CliffsNotes version of everything that happened, only getting more detailed when she reached the reason why Brody refused to go any further with her.
“Really? He’d rather stay friends with that douchebag instead of getting a piece of your ass? There’s something seriously wrong with him, Scar.”
That caused Scarlett to chuckle. God, she loved Delaney. She handed the note to her—she read it quickly then snapped her head up. “He left?”
“Yep.”
Delaney crawled up on the mattress and sat cross-legged. “And how do you feel?”
“Honestly? Rejected.”
“Yeah, I probably would, too,” she said, nodding. “This is on him, babe. Not you.” She sat silent for a moment. “I never took Brody for an escape artist, though.”
Scarlett sat on the edge of the bed. “I guess I should take it as a compliment that he had to leave an island to keep from doing something he considers stupid.”