by Dee J. Adams
She dropped her chin to her chest. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry. I’m just…” She blinked back emotion. “I’m just a little overwhelmed right now.”
Brendan backtracked and pulled her close. “I know, Case. Me too.” He breathed in the sweet smell of her flowery shampoo and ran his hand up her arm until he cupped her nape. The more he touched her the more he wanted her. “Let me get those ibuprofens. I’ll be right back.”
Four minutes later, they were lying next to each other on top of the blanket, staring up at the ceiling. Brendan turned just in time to see a tear streak down Casey’s temple. He took her hand and squeezed. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.” He didn’t know if could make good on his promise, but he damn well intended to try.
Chapter Twenty-One
Casey slowly opened her eyes to a strange bedroom. Brendan’s bedroom to be exact. She lay alone on the bed, but the indent of Brendan’s head still showed on his pillow. The sun was setting outside and turned the partly cloudy sky into a mix of pinks and oranges.
Sports trophies and books lined the oak bookcase on the sidewall with framed family pictures dotting open areas. The hunter green walls kept her in a relaxed haze and her headache had mostly disappeared with the exception of a tiny reminder where the stitches pulled at her scalp.
Like a knife to her chest, instant pressure built at the thought of creating songs to music she didn’t connect with. A knot lodged in her throat and her eyes stung. How was she going to handle another day like today? Would every songwriting session be this painful? She should be happy that her dream was coming true, except she knew the reality of winning the show wasn’t the reality of her expectations.
Miles didn’t want her music. He wanted her words. He expected lyrics to fit in with the music provided by RJ and his bunch. How long would he give her to write lyrics and what happened if she couldn’t come up with anything? Or what if he hated what she did write?
The door eased open and Brendan came in with a tray balanced in his good hand. He’d changed out of jeans and into black nylon basketball shorts and fresh white T-shirt. A light dusting of auburn hair covered his legs. “It’s the early bird dinner,” he said, setting the tray on the bed. “Pasta salad, fruit and…”
“Is that lemonade?” she asked, fluffing a pillow behind her before taking a sip of the pink liquid in a clear glass.
“Yep. Hope that’s okay.”
“My favorite.” He clearly remembered that from one of their conversations during the show. Her heart thawed. “Thanks.” She picked up the closest bowl and dug in. “Mmm, so good,” she said around a mouthful. “How’d you know I’d be starving?”
He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Because you’ve been going since early this morning and you only had half a sandwich in the car this afternoon.”
He was right. She’d been too sick to her stomach before the morning show to eat anything. Then she’d been thrown into a writing session with complete strangers and hadn’t even thought about food. What should’ve been a few minutes of get to know me turned into a three hour horror show of edgy music and zero creativity on her part.
“Besides, I’m starving too.” Baking in the sun today had obviously given him an appetite. He took his own forkful and closed his eyes in satisfaction.
There was something about watching a sexy man eat. The way his jaw moved. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed and his neck muscles worked when he swallowed. Brendan had his thick hair pulled back into a ponytail and Casey noticed his disfigured ear.
“When did you quit wearing the prosthetic?” she asked, taking another bite.
Brendan looked up as if she’d mentioned something taboo.
“I mean, I get why you wore it during the show, but I didn’t know…” Shit, she was making this worse. She already knew it was a sore spot with him from their time in Hawaii. “Forget I said anything. Sorry.”
He finished chewing his bite and washed it down with lemonade. “I don’t usually wear it, but I didn’t want the whole world scrutinizing me in case someone noticed,” he said quietly.
“I get it. It’s a private thing.” She hesitated before asking, but figured what the hell. “Why not just wear it all the time if it bothers you so much?”
Shrugging, he took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know. I thought maybe I needed to just be me, and me is a guy with a disfigured ear. The reality is harder to handle when people notice and want to talk about it.”
Casey couldn’t help herself. “Do you ever talk about it?” The hard look in his eyes answered her question. “Okaaayyyy. I guess we’ll move on to another topic.” She took a bite of her pasta and maybe it was a bit more forceful than she expected because she bit the side of her mouth, barely holding back a gasp.
“Look…” Brendan set his bowl on the tray. “I… Honestly, I rarely talk about it. It’s just…” He clearly struggled to find words as his gaze darted to hers. “Did you ever see the movie Payback with Julie Frazer?”
Casey snorted. “Who didn’t? How often does a movie get box office and critical success?” Her sentence ended abruptly when she thought about the movie. About the family kidnapped and used as leverage so that a crime lord could exact his revenge on someone else. One of the brother’s ears had been sliced and sent to his sister to ensure her cooperation. “Oh my God. It was your family that was kidnapped?” Casey set her bowl down. “You were the one…” She couldn’t even say it out loud.
“The one who had most of his ear sliced off and mailed to his sister. Yeah,” he said, his voice hard, but barely audible. “That was me.” It explained the high tech gate in an otherwise gate free community. It explained how overprotective he was when it came to her safety.
The pasta turned in Casey’s stomach. “God, Bren. I didn’t know. I didn’t realize.” She wanted to hug him or comfort him somehow, but his straight spine and hard eyes said back off. Not to mention the tray of food between them.
Bits of the movie flashed in her mind. The fight when the first two brothers were taken. The brutal violence of the scene. If Casey remembered correctly and if the movie was true to real life events, which she’d read that it was, Brendan had been the one most injured during the kidnapping. He’d suffered multiple broken ribs, a concussion, a severed ear and by the end, a collapsed lung.
He nodded, picked up his bowl and continued eating, so Casey did the same. They finished their meal silently until Brendan made a move to take the tray.
Casey stopped him. “I’ve got it,” she said. “You brought it up. I can take it down.” She grabbed the tray before Brendan argued. As she went downstairs, her brain processed all this new information about Brendan. He’d been through a horrifying experience and come out the other side. Though he appeared to be mentally and physically healthy, he definitely carried scars. God, this could explain why he’d frozen up on her apartment floor. Maybe he’d had some sort of flashback.
Casey washed the dishes and stuck them in the drain board next to the sink. She was about to open the freezer to see if there was anything she could surprise Brendan with for dessert when the back door opened and Terry entered.
“Hi!” Terry’s hair gleamed burnt orange in the setting sun and her cheeks were flushed. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay. Thanks.” A nap and food had worked wonders for her mood.
“Good.” She moved to the desk in the corner of the kitchen. “Look, I didn’t get a chance to talk to you this morning. I know you were in a hurry, but I’m really glad you didn’t leave.”
Casey remembered the earnest concern in Jay’s eyes as he’d convinced her to stay. Presenting the facts as if he’d been in court, using logic without making her feel small or stupid, and doing it all in a matter of minutes. He’d spoken with respect and without a trace of condemnation. Knowing how young he was explained why he seemed less of a parent and more of a peer. If genetics were any indication, Brendan was going to remain as gorgeous as his dad. “Your husband is very persuasive.”
“No, don’t cancel!” Casey said. The instant change of subject left no room for a rebuttal, not that Casey had one. “We had a long day, but we’re fine. You should go and have fun.”
“Okay. I’ll check on you when we get back.” She gestured outside. “Jay’s waiting, so I’ll see you later.” She got to the door then turned. “Oh, I almost forgot. Here,” she lifted the lid on a cake plate that Casey hadn’t even noticed on the counter. A huge chocolate cake made her mouth water and answered her dessert dilemma. “I made Brendan’s favorite. Take him a slice. He’ll be in the palm of your hand all night.” Terry winked again, replaced the top and headed out.
“Thanks,” Casey called after her as the door closed. “Bye.”
A whole night with Brendan to herself.
Brendan ran a hand over his head. “Shit,” he muttered. He should tell her…not that she didn’t already know the basics since the movie was pretty damn close to the real thing. His sister—Hollywood’s newest “It Girl”—had made sure the movie stayed true to actual events. Since she’d directed and produced the whole thing with her husband, she’d held total creative control. That was a feat mostly unheard of in Hollywood. But if anyone deserved the success, Jess did. She worked damn hard to make that film and the success had gone hand in hand with her personal happiness as well.
Still, the event that she had so willingly shared with the world was something he’d tried to hide. Close family and friends knew he didn’t like to talk about it, so they respected him and didn’t. Rarely did the subject come up any other time and Brendan never brought it up. He hated relieving that event. Despised the helplessness and fear that made him sick to this day. The pain had almost been secondary to the horror of watching his family members repeatedly trying to divert the physical abuse to themselves. He didn’t think he’d ever get past the guilt.
Now he felt as if he owed Casey an explanation. She’d done as he requested, had come to his parents’ place to regroup while the police investigated. The least he could do was be honest about his history.
Casey returned with a plate in one hand and glass of milk in the other. The smell registered a half a second after he realized what she had. His heart took an extra thump watching the most beautiful girl holding his favorite dessert. One of life’s perfect moments.
“Holy shit. No way.” Brendan sat up, staring at the decadent chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream. He blinked to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
“I heard it on good authority that this is your favorite.”
The smile on Casey’s face lit his fuse as much as the chocolate. “You heard right. Did my mom bring that home? I didn’t see it on the table when we walked in.”
“She had it covered, pushed in the corner on the counter. I wouldn’t have seen it if she hadn’t popped in. She and your dad have tickets for a show tonight. She asked me if they should cancel and I told her not to.”
Brendan’s heart took a few extra hard beats. The thought of having assured alone time made his blood run hot. Sure, they were both less than a hundred percent, but he craved skin time with her. He wanted to touch her so bad, kiss her without the threat of interruption, without worrying about anything but just being with her. Screw the cake, he’d rather devour Casey.
She sat next to him and offered the plate and fork.
It was too hard to resist. “Don’t you want any?” he asked, taking the first bite. The moist, rich chocolate nearly melted in his mouth. “Oh my God, my mother knows how to bake a fucking cake. This is unbelievable. Here.” He sliced a piece and lifted it to her lips. Casey opened her mouth for the chocolate-and-vanilla combo. She closed her eyes and moaned, and the sound went straight to Brendan’s dick. “Why didn’t you get some for yourself?”
“I didn’t think I wanted any. The pasta filled me up.”
He shook his head. “Trust me. You’ll always want my mom’s cake. Have another bite.” Brendan fed her another piece. Their eyes locked as she chewed and it was the sexiest thing he’d seen since that first night when he’d stripped her of clothes. They finished the slice with Brendan giving Casey a bite for every few of his. He chugged the milk, then put the plate and glass aside when he finished.
“Wait, c’mere,” she said, leaning closer. “You’ve got a little chocolate right…” She leaned over and swiped the chocolate off the corner of his mouth with her finger.
Brendan caught her hand, held it, stared into her eyes as he slowly sucked the chocolate off her finger. Her eyes widened; her breath froze. Most of the blood in his system rushed south. She licked her lips with that luscious pink tongue and Brendan lost what little control he had left.
He shifted, pulled her closer with his good arm, and tilted his head, his gaze never leaving hers. Slowly, he brushed his lips over hers, loving the sweet smoothness of her amazing mouth. God, he wanted more, wanted her closer.
He’d taken the edge off the pain with a couple of pills so his arm didn’t bother him as much as it could have. In fact…screw it. He pulled back and eased the sling off completely.
“Brendan, don’t.” The dreaminess faded from her voice. “What are you doing?” Now she sounded like his mother, all business and no pleasure.
“Making things easier.” He didn’t let her get another word out because he had new leverage and at the same time he closed his mouth over hers, he took her down, forcing her back right where she sat until her head rested at the foot of the bed. The zinging pain in his arm, had nothing on the pleasure of feeling her under him.
“Brendan,” she breathed. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Cut it out.” But she didn’t fight him when he dove in for another sheet melting kiss. She tasted like warm chocolate, like heaven, like perfection. Her little sighs only added fuel to the burning fire in his veins.
He leaned on his good arm and caressed her with the other, grazing the curve of her waist and gentle slope of her breast. “I’ve missed you.” He went in deeper, swept his tongue around hers in total conquest and she matched him, giving what she got with all the passion he remembered from Hawaii.
She moaned and revved Brendan’s blood hotter, but then both hands framed his face. “Bren. Hold up. Wait.” She held his head and looked into his eyes. “We’re not sleeping together now.”
He blinked a few times, tried to make sense of the words that didn’t match their action. “What?” Maybe someone had come home. He listened to the silent house, but didn’t hear anything. “We’re alone—really alone—for the first time since Hawaii. No interruptions, it’s all good.” He moved to kiss her again, but she stopped him.
“Bren, it’s not that I don’t want to, I just—”
He kissed her before she said anything else and the fact that she kissed him back gave him hope. Nothing topped Casey when she gave herself heart and soul. Brendan loved the way her hands moved over his shoulders or splayed against his chest. She lit him up faster than a match to dried twigs. Except after another scorcher of a kiss she pulled his head back again and wiggled away, leaving him cold and alone.
“Seriously. I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” She stood up, breathing hard, her cheeks flushed.
Brendan lay sprawled on the bed, keeping his arm across his chest and fighting the pain. Not the pain in his arm, but the hurt that she didn’t want to be with him.
“I’m in a w
eird place, okay. Hawaii was amazing, but I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I just needed to break free. I needed something to help me find my way. Something to give me confidence and start on a fresh road.”
Brendan finally looked at her, at the emotion in her eyes. She looked as wrecked as she had earlier that day. It was the last thing he wanted.
“I didn’t mean to push you just now. It’s just…when you kissed me back, I thought…”
“I know, I know. I take full responsibility and I’m sorry. I thought the same thing when your parent’s left. I thought we’d get a few hours to reconnect. To recreate Hawaii, but we can’t. I like you. A lot.” She swiped beneath her eyes. “Probably too much.”
He sat up. “How is that a problem? I like you too.” A big fat lie because he more than liked her, but wrapping his brain around the other L word didn’t seem possible.
“I know.” She nodded, but the frown on her forehead spoke volumes. “I just have to be honest. There are things about you that I’m not sure of.”
That cut deep. Especially after everything they’d been through together. Yeah, they’d had their moments, but for the most part, he felt a real connection with her. “What things?” he asked and he was damn proud of the even tone of his voice when inside he was howling.
“You just…sometimes you say things and it makes me feel like my ex did. I won’t go back to something like that. I can’t. I have to feel like I’m a partner, not someone less than, and it’s way too soon for that anyway for us.” She glanced around the room before meeting his gaze. “Hawaii really screwed things up.”
“I don’t believe that,” he said. “I mean, that Hawaii screwed things up. Meeting you…” he trailed off, trying to find the words that expressed what he felt. “I’ve never connected with anyone the way I did with you.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.