by Abby Niles
Rage shook his entire body as he snatched his ex-best friend by the collar of his shirt. “You’re a piece of shit.”
His eyes went wide, and he latched his hand on Brody’s wrist. “You’ve lost your goddamn mind. Let me go.”
“You’re the reason she’s so uncomfortable in her own skin. You’re the reason she doubts her sexual appeal. No woman should ever have to deal with that, especially from her husband.”
“Dude, it’s not my fucking fault she’s frigid.”
Brody gave a short jab, popping Ryan in the mouth. His head jerked back. Blood seeped from the crack in his lip. Brody shoved him onto the couch and pointed at him. “Stay the fuck away from, Scarlett. As for us, our friendship is over. I don’t associate with people who treat women like dirt.”
He strode straight through the front door and slammed it behind him. His body still shook from suppressed fury. A spouse’s duty was to build their significant other up, not tear them down. The world did that enough—a person shouldn’t have to come home to more of it.
Goddamn it.
Scarlett had never been treated the way she needed. He’d felt her in his arms, responding to his kiss, his touches, and she was brimming with desire. That louse in there just didn’t know how to bring it out.
Brody brought it out in her. Easily.
And he planned to continue doing so.
…
“You’re being selfish, Scarlett.”
Closing her eyes, Scarlett tightened her grip on the edge of the sink, and she silently counted to ten before she completely lost it on her mother and sister. She hadn’t even been back in town an hour before they’d tracked her down at Delaney’s. Seemed they had stopped by to see her at home, and Ryan had let them know she’d left him. It didn’t take any genius for them to figure out where she’d gone.
Ten minutes ago, they’d showed up unannounced.
As soon as Delaney had seen who was at the door, she’d made an excuse about needing to get some work done and bolted. Her best friend was not a fan of Scarlett’s family. Words had been exchanged before, so Scarlett was glad that she’d made herself scarce.
Too much drama was going on right now, anyway. She didn’t need any more.
“Look at me,” her mother demanded.
Letting out a slow breath, she faced Mommy Dearest, who sat at the scarred wood kitchen table beside Scarlett’s younger sister, Dorothy. Back when her mother still had a personality, she’d named her daughters after her favorite classic movie heroines. But that was before.
Now her mother was bitter and shrill. Though, looking at her, most would only see an ultra-conservative, middle-aged woman. Scarlett knew better.
“You have to go back to him,” her mother stated frankly, as she placed her coffee cup on the kitchen table then brushed a lock of dyed blond hair behind her ear. “Divorce is unacceptable, Scarlett. We don’t divorce in this family.”
No. They just stayed in miserable marriages.
Her parents had been married for thirty-five years, and neither could stand to be in the same room with the other. Scarlett could remember a time when her parents had been happy. Where they had laughed and acted like a true family—supportive and caring.
She’d been eleven. Dorothy had been eight.
Everything changed after her father had lost his job. He couldn’t find a new one. He’d gotten a little too heavy with the drink and had a one-night stand with a waitress. Unlike Scarlett’s lousy husband, her dad had been riddled with guilt and confessed the morning after it happened.
After that, her once loving, fun-filled mother slowly became spiteful, distrustful, and full of anger. Many times Scarlett wondered if her mother had just ended the marriage, healed, and moved on, then would the woman she remembered from her early childhood have returned.
Now the bitterness was so ingrained in her that the caring mother she’d once been would never be seen again.
Through it all, though, Dad had never left her. When she was older, he admitted that he felt like it was his punishment for messing up. Guilt had kept him married to a woman who hated him until he’d passed away a couple of years ago—a different generation’s way of thinking which she couldn’t wrap her mind around.
“Well, I believe in divorce,” she said and rubbed her aching forehead. She’d known dealing with her family was going to blow, but she thought she’d have a little more than an hour before having to listen to their harping.
“It’s your fault, you know,” Dorothy piped in. What she thought she knew about relationships was beyond Scarlett. Her sister hadn’t been with a guy longer than six months. “You made this happen. All you’ve done is nag that man for years. No wonder he turned to another woman.”
Hurt by her sister’s words, Scarlett swallowed. Not that she’d expected any support from them. Everything was always her fault. This time was no different. Heaven forbid Ryan be held accountable for the fact he couldn’t keep his junk in his pants. Nope, it had to be her attitude that forced him to cave to temptation.
“From what I understand, a marriage takes two people. I didn’t stray from our marriage, he did.”
Her mother shook her head and made a tsking sound, clearly disagreeing with her statement. “Maybe if you’d let the baby nonsense go, none of this would’ve happened.”
Scarlett couldn’t stop a shocked gasp of pain, and she had to look away to get control of her emotions. She couldn’t believe her mother had just gone there. Never, ever should she have told them about her infertility. Delaney had listened but didn’t really understand, since she was nowhere near ready for children. She’d thought this would be one topic she could actually get some support on.
She’d been wrong, and it had been the last thing she’d confided to her mother and sister.
The shit storm from everyone—her mom, her sister…from Ryan for sharing their business—had taught her to keep her mouth shut. All that mattered were appearances.
“Ryan and I started that journey together, remember? We were both on board.”
And full of hope. Their marriage was never perfect by any means, but dreams of children were something they’d shared. After they tried for a year without success, they started seeking help. Two failed IVFs later, the verdict was in. Their inability to have a baby was her fault. Chromosomal abnormities of the eggs—i.e., her eggs sucked.
And Ryan changed.
“When he refused any other option, you should’ve let it be,” her sister said. “But you didn’t. You had to stay on him, and when he still refused, all you did was cry about it.”
Because at first she thought it was just shock, but as the wedge between them grew wider, and his attitude toward her became more critical, she had to accept that Ryan was never going to use a donor or adopt. And then she’d grieved for the children she would never have.
Because her family didn’t divorce. They stuck it out.
She should’ve left two years ago when Ryan made that decision, but she’d thought they’d get through it. Just a hump in their marriage.
Yeah. So much so, he’d gotten another woman pregnant.
“Listen, I don’t need your approval. I left him, that’s all you need to know.”
“Now you have to go back to him,” her mother stated firmly.
Scarlett slammed her palms down on the table. “Are you fucking listen to me?”
Both their eyes widened as they sat up straighter, almost in unison.
“He cheated on me. I’m divorcing his sorry ass, going to find myself again, and live a goddamn happy life. Do you hear me?”
Her mother laid her hand on her heart, her mouth moving as if she wanted to say something. Finally, she managed to speak through her indignation. “That man has taken care of you. Paid for your college. Put a roof over your head. So he had a little fling. Get over it and stop being an ungrateful brat.”
Scarlett lifted her chin and stared down at her mother. “Maybe I’m being a brat, but I refuse to become a cold-hearte
d bitch like you.”
Her mother’s pained, “How dare you,” gave her little satisfaction. But the woman deserved a slap back for the years of non-support.
“That wasn’t cool, Scarlett,” Dorothy said.
“Yeah? Well, the truth hurts.”
Her mother shoved back her chair. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to this.”
Good. Maybe her family would finally stay out of her business. She was never going to get the support she craved from them. They were two peas in a pod, and she hated that her mother’s attitude had rubbed off on her sister. Dorothy would make the perfect, docile wife one day.
Her mother headed for the kitchen door, then she stopped and turned around. “You took vows before God. I don’t care what was done to you, to me—you don’t break those vows.”
At the reprimand, Scarlett swallowed. She’d thought that way once. Had put up with more than she should have because of that strong belief. And it had killed a little part of her. Though the pregnancy hurt tremendously, Ryan had set her free. “I know what you think, Mom. And I respect that. That was your choice to make. This is my choice. And you need to respect that.”
“I can’t respect someone who gives up.”
“Okay, then. You know the way out.”
As her mother and sister filed from the room, she shook her head. Her mother would never see Scarlett’s divorce as anything but a failure of her own making.
Tears pricked the back of her eyes, but she refused to cry anymore. She was done trying to please other people. She’d spent her life doing just that. If it wasn’t her mother, it was Ryan—trying so damn desperately to be everything he wanted, especially in the last couple of years as he critiqued her relentlessly. She tried, and it was never enough, so she tried harder. What had that commitment gotten her?
A husband who’d sought a good lay to replace the shitty one he was getting at home.
Never again would she put her happiness behind someone else’s.
Never.
…
Why had she opened the damn door without checking first?
Her heart hadn’t even had time to recover from the confrontation with her mother and sister. They’d barely been gone an hour.
Now the blasted organ was going crazy again, but this time the increased beats weren’t caused by anger. The acceleration was due to the man standing in front of her—the man who’d left an entire island to get away from her, and who looked devilishly handsome in his training shorts and red shirt, with a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead. She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “How did you find me?”
He shrugged. “Process of elimination.”
“How do you know where Delaney lives?”
“Remember that time we were getting coffee and Delaney called you?”
“Ahh. Yeah. You dropped me off here.” That seemed like a lifetime ago. Back when they could hang out without some crazy attraction taking over. Before he got too busy to hang out with her. “I forgot about that.”
When she didn’t make a move to let him in, he finally asked, “Can I come in? I’d like to talk.”
She didn’t budge. After dealing with her mom and sister, she really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Brody and his loyalty to her ex-husband.
“Scarlett, please. I don’t like how we left things in the Bahamas.”
She didn’t, either. Sighing, she dropped her arms and stepped back, allowing him room to come inside. “Delaney’s out taking photos.”
“That’s good. I’d rather talk to you alone, anyway.”
While he paced from one side of the small living room to the other, she sat down on the couch. He seemed nervous, but Brody wasn’t the nervous type. “What’s on your mind?”
Stopping, he studied her with those amazing brown eyes, then waved between the two of them. “This thing between us. That didn’t just manifest for you because of where we were, did it?”
“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“You know…you were on a romantic island, anyone can get caught up in the moment… Is that what happened with you?”
This was not the “talk” she’d expected, which had been more of a lecture on why nothing could ever happen between them, or how much he regretted their kiss. He could still be heading in that direction, and she could save some serious face by saying she had gotten caught up in the moment.
“No.” Why lie about how she felt? It never helped anything. “What happened in the Bahamas wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t feel the attraction.”
“Yeah. Thought so.” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we give it a shot?”
Scarlett jerked back. Now, that was really unexpected. “What happened between then and now that made you change your mind? You made it pretty clear Ryan’s friendship meant more to you than a fling with me.”
Grimacing, he rubbed the back of his head. “I’ve had time to think. You’re no longer with Ryan. Ryan’s with someone else. So, why not?”
Why not?
One, she wasn’t interested in getting involved with anyone right now. Two, though she couldn’t deny the attraction she had to Brody, that was a whole can of worms she wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with.
She guessed this was her first chance at doing what made her happy. So she needed to be clearer on what Brody was hinting at.
“When you say, ‘give it a shot,’ what exactly do you mean?”
“Date. See where things go.”
She’d made a promise to herself that she was done making other people happy—she was going to do what made her happy. And right here was the perfect opportunity to start putting herself first.
“Let me stop you right now.” She held up her hand as she came to her feet. “I just got out of an eight year marriage, and I’m not looking to get into another one. To be perfectly blunt, I have zero interest in getting into another committed relationship. Ever.”
“You can’t possibly mean that, Scarlett.”
“Oh, I do. So, before we go any further in this discussion, we need to be clear on that. This won’t be a situation where we see”—she used air quotes—“where things go.”
His jaw tightened. “What kind of situation will it be, then?”
Warmth crept up her neck and into her cheeks. She cursed the reaction. She could be sensual and sexy. Damn it. “We take pleasure from each other.”
Amusement kicked up one corner of his mouth, and another rush of heat flamed her face.
“What kind of pleasure, Scarlett?”
There wasn’t anything condescending or impatient in his tone. Even though she knew Brody found her attempts humorous, she wasn’t embarrassed. She felt challenged, and she embraced it.
Racking her brain, she tried to find the words she wanted to use. Many came to mind, but the idea of actually vocalizing them caused her skin to scorch.
Why was it so hard?
Naughty talk was supposed to be easy between two adults who found each other attractive, but she couldn’t force the words out of her mouth.
Brody strode straight toward her and stopped barely an inch away. It suddenly became difficult to draw in a breath. He was so overwhelming—the way she had to tilt her head back to look up at him, the power of his body so close to hers… Her nipples puckered into hard peaks.
He ran the back of two fingers down her cheek. “Just say what you want.”
Swallowing first, she opened her mouth. And again, nothing came out.
The heated way he held her gaze made her feel exposed.
Leaning forward, he brushed his lips across the outer curve of her ear as he whispered huskily, “Fuck, Scarlett. You want to fuck.”
An excited shiver raced over her. She’d hated that word before, thought it was trashy, but coming out of Brody’s mouth it was exotic.
“Say it,” he softly demanded, his lips continuing to tease her ear.
A stuttered breath shot out of her mouth, then she murmured, “I want to fuck.�
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Saying the word aloud in a purely sexual way didn’t make her feel trashy. It made her feel empowered. She’d finally said what she wanted.
Brody lifted his head, his mouth inches from her. She couldn’t look away from him; he had her snared, ready to follow wherever he planned to take her. And she had no doubt that Brody would take her to a place she’d never been before, an exciting place she might never want to come back from.
“Never filter yourself during sex.”
Then he backed away. Instantly, she missed the heat of his large body.
Seriousness encased his chiseled face, and she realized the moment was over. He was back to business. How was he able to turn it off and on like that? She felt like a basket of exposed nerves.
“So, that’s what you’re looking for?” he asked. “A fuck buddy?”
She cringed away from the simplification of her desires, and he apparently noticed, because he added, “Don’t be ashamed of what you want. There’s nothing wrong with just wanting to enjoy sex with no strings attached. I, on the other hand, will have some rules if this is the arrangement we agree upon.”
He was right. There was nothing wrong with her wanting to enjoy a person in her bed. Someone who brought her body to life, who would take the stigma of being frigid off her mind and make her feel like she was a desirable, fuckable woman.
“Rules? I didn’t think Brody Minton had rules.”
“When it comes to my bed partners, I do. I don’t fuck around.”
Intrigued, she tilted her head to the side. “I assumed you have a long line of women wanting to warm your bed.”
“I do,” he said, shrugging, but there was no ego in his voice, just a matter of fact truth. “Doesn’t mean I have any interest in a different woman warming my sheets every night. I don’t work like that.”
“How do you work?”
“When I find a woman I want to take to my bed, it’s more than just once, and I don’t share. If we’re fucking, we’re only fucking each other.”
She furrowed her brows. “Isn’t that being in a relationship?”
“A physical one, yes. That’s my rule. If you have no interest in an emotional relationship, but are still curious about exploring this attraction between us, I can respect that. But while we are playing with each other’s bodies, I’ll be the only man you’re playing with. Is that acceptable?”