A Broken Us (London Lover Series Book 1)

by Amy Daws

  Brody clears his throat and digs deep for some confidence again. He smiles back one of his signature panty-dropping smiles and replies, “Nice to meet you, Frank. Sorry about giving you an eye full earlier. I uh, was just feeling pretty happy to be here with Finley, I guess.”

  “No need to apologize, pet. By the looks of it, you were feeling very…what was the word you used? Oh, yes…happy.” Frank smiles ear-to-ear and glances down toward Brody’s crotch.

  Brody clears his throat, “Hi, Les!” he says, releasing Frank’s hand and making his way over to sit next to Leslie. He gives her a hearty hug. She smiles back, obviously enjoying the little show Frank and Brody are putting on for our enjoyment.

  Frank looks at me, batting his eyes innocently. I glare back, keeping my eyes trained on him as I walk backwards into the kitchen for coffee.

  “I’m going to take Brody over to the farmers’ market if either of you want to come,” I say, softening my death glare on Frank. “I thought I’d pick something up for dinner tonight so we can have a big family dinner if you guys are going to be around.”

  “Sounds great to me!” Leslie says. “But I have work to do today, so I’ll just join you for the actual eating of the food, not the shopping and cooking…that sounds terrible. I’m the type who likes to eat the sausage, I don’t need to see how it’s made.”

  I give her an unimpressed look and then turn to Frank.

  He lifts his eyebrows up at me trying to decipher what I want him to say.

  He raises his chin up high and replies “I willlllllllll not come…” he finishes, the word dropping his chin slowly to his chest, “…in that way…but I will eat?” he says with a question mark, like he doesn’t know what I want him to say.

  “Yes, Frank. You will eat.” I smile at him. The saucy bugger is obviously not as offended at seeing Brody’s naked bod as he was by seeing mine. “And we will all be fully clothed. In fact, let’s make it a fancy family dinner and dress up a bit!”

  This perks Frank right up. “You’re lucky I love clothes, Fin-Bin. Otherwise, there’s no way I’d agree to a dinner with that hunk-of-a-man in anything but his birthday suit.”

  Brody laughs hard and I crack a big smile, no longer able to continue my façade of being put out by this situation.

  “Ha ha. Okay, Frank. You’ve seen Brody naked. Now piss-off about it already or we’re going to force you to even the score.”

  Frank does a quick twirl and says, “Even away, love! And let me tell you,” he pauses, and shoots a sly expression Brody’s way. “The carpet definitely matches the drapes.”

  Leslie spits out another mouthful of cereal all over and Brody laughs, wiping some spray off his face. I shake my head and smile at my crazy roommates. I feel a sense of peace with myself now that Brody is here to experience all of this with me.

  ***

  Brody and I eventually leave and spend the day alone at the farmers’ market, sampling various foods and purchasing necessary supplies for supper. We do a lot of the same things Frank and I did on my first day here. It’s fun. It’s light and carefree and I’m excited to cook for Brody again. It was always something I loved doing in our relationship and he loved everything I made him, even though there were many Pinterest-fail recipes that definitely didn’t turn out like their pictures.

  It feels good to be hand in hand with Brody, walking the streets of London. It feels natural and normal. Brody and I were together for five years and never really took a vacation like this before, so this feels new and exciting to both of us. So much has changed since then. Not just with me, but Brody seems different, too. The same, but different. We forgot what it was like to just be together. To just be us. The world of baby-making feels like another life to me now.

  It still amazes me that Brody and I managed to stay close and passionate during all our months of trying to get pregnant. There were so many times that we had to have sex because I might have been ovulating and the sex wasn’t passionate, it wasn’t fun. It was forced and it sucked. Thankfully, Brody was so incredibly good at making me feel beautiful and desirable that just when I didn’t think I could do it again, he’d find some special way to make it feel spontaneous.

  “You seem different,” Brody says, as we stand in line to pay for the ears of corn we picked up.

  “Do I?” I ask, not knowing how to respond.

  He’s standing behind me and grasps my hips, splaying one hand over my belly as we wait for the line to move forward. He’s had his hands on me most of the day, unable to break away for more than a few minutes at a time.

  “I feel like I’m home again,” I reply, turning in his hands and facing him. His face looks pained for a fleeting second, so I stroke his hair encouragingly and kiss him lightly on the lips.

  “You feel like you’re home, in London?” he asks.

  “I like it here a lot,” I say, pulling out of his embrace and standing next to him with my head on his shoulder. “But having you here with me makes it really feel like home.”

  I quickly pay for our stuff and we make our way down the busy sidewalk, swerving around people and vendors.

  “You told me you loved London because of how your books romanticized it, but you never seemed that serious about ever coming out here,” he says, waffling his hand with mine and taking the bagged corn to carry it for me.

  “It seemed like a pipedream back then. You and I were settled and had a plan. When things changed and Leslie was out here, it just seemed like the best place for me to go to. It was different enough. I needed different.”

  Brody slows our pace dramatically as we continue down the sidewalk that leads directly to Frank’s house.

  “I still don’t even understand what changed. I didn’t think what we had and where we were was so bad,” he says, looking sadly at his shoes as we walk.

  Choosing to ignore that statement, I say, “You seem different, too.”

  “In what way?” he looks up.

  “Your hair is longer,” I smile, ruffling my fingers in it. “You haven’t had it cut since I left, have you?”

  He gives me a small smile.

  “Well, you see,” he starts, and I’m relieved to hear lightness in his tone again. “I had this really hot chick that took care of all that stuff for me. When she left, a lot of stuff went to shit, I’m afraid.”

  I smile back sadly at him and he returns the same despondent look.

  “I think I like it, actually,” I offer.

  We pass a small children’s park and he pulls me down onto an open bench just inside a shaded grass area.

  “What’s going on with your job? Were they okay with you coming here?” I ask.

  “Yeah, they were cool. I would have come sooner but I had to finish an estimate for a new visitor center building. Once that was done, they were fine with me leaving for a few days,” he replies, putting his arm around me and tucking me in closely next to him.

  His smile fades and he turns to look at me intensely.

  “I still need to know why you left, Finley,” he says. “I’m trying to go slowly here for you because I don’t want to spook you and I don’t want to lose you again. But you have to give me something, Fin.”

  I pull my legs up onto the bench and hug them, facing him.

  “I wish I knew the reason too, sometimes,” I begin. “Or at least had an easy and obvious answer. At the time it felt like the right thing to do. To say goodbye to you and leave. To start a new life. Our life together, it just…mostly, it just all became too much, too hard…too painful.”

  “Too painful to let me help you?” he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “I guess. I don’t know,” I say, dropping my feet down onto the ground and looking down, shamefully.

  “In a million years, Finley, I would have never seen that coming. You leaving…I would have never guessed you’d just leave me like that.”

  His words cut me deeply. I feel a sickness roll over me for what I did to him and what I did to us. I turned som
ething pure, and beautiful, and magical into ugliness. A broken ugliness. I shake my head, willing these painful thoughts away.

  “We were trying to make a baby together, Fin. I mean, that’s heavy stuff. I know you and I never wanted to get married, but was that part of it? Did you want me to ask you to marry me?” he asks, looking at me with wide blue eyes.

  “No!” I reply. “No, Brody, it was never the marriage thing. I still don’t care about that. I hate the idea of doing stuff because other people tell us it’s right.”

  “That’s what I thought, Finley, but when you left…I felt like I didn’t know you anymore. I‘ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what would cause all of this. What would cause you to throw away everything we had?”

  Tears form in my eyes at his completely honest and raw question. I look up from the ground and into his eyes. Without having the ability to stop myself, my hand goes to his cheek and strokes it softly.

  “I love you so much, Brody. I’m horrified, seriously horrified that I’ve done this to us.” I start crying and have to look away from his beautiful face because it hurts too much.

  “Look at me, Finley,” he says, but I don’t look back at him. He grabs my cheeks in both of his hands and turns my wet eyes toward him.

  “Don’t ever hide your tears from me, baby. I need to see them. I need to know you’re not hiding this whole world from me again. Not again. Not ever, ever again.”

  I swallow a huge lump in my throat as the guilt mounts to an all new level. I know now is the time for me to open up and tell him everything. I need to tell him what the doctor said. I need to tell him I’m scared to adopt because I’m scared it isn’t what he wants. I’m scared once he knows the entire truth, he won’t want me anymore.

  It’s the last fear that prevents me from coming clean and I reach over and hug him tightly, relishing the time I have with him right now. I have no idea if Brody will want me when he discovers the truth, but for right now, he’s mine.

  “I cannot believe you’re here with me and wanting to love me still. I don’t deserve it, Brody. I don’t deserve any of it. But I will take it, babe. I will take it and cherish it and do my best to never ever hurt you again,” I say, into his shoulder.

  He pulls back and kisses me softly. His kiss is so soft and sweet, I cry through it. I can feel all his love and adoration for me and it’s painful to accept, knowing what I know. I break the kiss, wipe my cheeks, and make an awkward noise with my throat to try and lighten the mood.

  “Let’s hurry back to the house. We have some time before we need to start cooking, and there’s plenty I’d still like to show you in my bedroom.”

  He jumps up dramatically and starts sprinting down the street, leaving me sitting shell shocked on the bench. God, he is so funny. He’s this tall, hot, incredible guy, yet he has no qualms about making the biggest ass out of himself at the drop of a hat. I love this man.

  Just when I think he’s not coming back for me, he spins around, sprints back to me, grabs my hand, and throws me up onto his shoulder like a rag doll.

  With another slap on my butt, he says, “I’m so sorry, baby. I totally forgot you hate to run…and exercise…and well, do anything sporty.”

  I squeeze his sides and laugh happily as he jiggles me down the block and back to the house.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I dig out the votive candles leftover from the Tarts and Vicars party, and arrange them in a cluster on the big dining room table. It’s been a while since we’ve all had dinner together, so I figure we can attempt to do it up right.

  Brody is a huge help with grilling the chicken. We’re having barbeque chicken, sweet corn, and garlic mashed potatoes. A very Midwestern traditional meal. BBQ back in Kansas City is legendary. I know this won’t come close to that, but it should still be pretty good.

  Brody presses up behind me as I’m lighting the tea lights. He moves my hair away from my neck so he can kiss me and I melt under his touch.

  “God, I’ve missed this,” he murmurs into my neck.

  “Missed what? My cooking?” I say, turning to kiss him on the lips.

  “Just being normal with you. Doing regular things together,” he squeezes my side and I flinch at the ticklish spot.

  “Quit, Brody! I need to get the potatoes finished,” I laugh, feeling giddy and light from his affection.

  “Okay, I have to go get the chicken off the grill anyway. Damn! I can’t wait to get you home so I have you all to myself again.”

  He gives me a loud-smacking kiss on my cheek and takes off for the patio area. What the hell is that supposed mean? He’s expecting me to just go home with him after all this? I guess that would be an obvious assumption since we made up. Shit! I let the match burn too far down and fried the tip of my finger.

  Damn it, that hurt. I suck on my finger as I ponder what the hell I’m going to do about Brody. I know I need Brody. I have to be with him, that’s non-negotiable. But I guess I was just hoping we could start a whole new life together in London. Maybe none of this will even matter when he knows all there is to know? God, just when I was feeling so good, freakin’ reality has to ruin everything.

  “Problems?” Mitch’s voice breaks through my inner monologue.

  “I burned my finger. I’m fine,” I say, a bit rudely.

  “That’s all?” he says, heading over to the cabinet and pulling out another foreign bottle of liquor. He holds it out to me and I nod my head, so he proceeds to pull two coffee mugs out of the cabinet and pours us both a shot.

  “To complicated shit?” he says, raising his glass to me with a toast.

  “To impossible problems,” I reply, with my own toast, raising my glass back at him.

  “To being cool enough to figure out unique solutions,” he says, and then takes his shot.

  I shoot mine back and hold the cinnamon-tasting liquor in my mouth, pondering what he said. Mitch seems to have this wonderfully quiet way of always helping me with my problems. Unique solutions. Unique solutions. Surely, Brody and I can come up with a unique solution.

  “Brody, right?” Mitch says.

  “Yeah,” Brody replies, walking into the kitchen with a pan full of BBQ chicken.

  “I’m Mitch. Do you like cinnamon?” Mitch asks, grabbing another coffee mug out of the cupboard.

  “You bet,” Brody responds, looking at me sweetly.

  Brody and Mitch talk amicably over another shot and I finish up the food and set everything on the table. Julie comes in looking all cute in a little black dress and heels, so I give Brody a quick kiss and excuse myself to go up and change. I’d be lying if I don’t admit to being excited to dress up for Brody.

  I pop my head into Leslie’s room and she’s sitting on her bed, obviously deep in thought. She’s wearing a sexy, black, one-piece jumpsuit with gold metallic trim around the sleeves and down the center.

  “Hey! You look hot!” I say, and she waves me off like she doesn’t want to hear it. “What’s wrong, Les?” I say, sitting down next to her on her daybed.

  “Boy problems, Finley,” she groans, and lies down on her side. “I’m so confused.”

  “Well, I’m here. Let’s talk.”

  “I don’t think I’m quite ready to talk yet. I know, I know…the cracks. But you know how sometimes I just need to process for a bit? Well, now is one of those times. I promise, as soon as I’m ready, I’m coming to you, so don’t get your panties in a wad, Mama Bear.”

  “Okay then.”

  “Besides, you have enough on your plate right now as it is.”

  I sigh, heavily. “You aren’t kidding. Brody thinks I’m coming back to Kansas.”

  “Aren’t you?” she asks.

  “Do you think I should?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  “Hell no! I’ll keep you here forever if I can. But I guess I kind of assumed the same thing.”

  “I need more cinnamon,” I groan.

  “Like, the food? Or is this a metaphor?” she asks, deadpan.

/>   “Mitch has yummy cinnamon liquor downstairs,” I say.

  “Yum! I want some!” She looks like a kid in a candy store.

  Frank walks into Leslie’s room and stops in his tracks in the doorway.

  “For fuck’s sake, Finley!” he says, angrily gesturing to my university hoodie and leggings. “You cannot be trusted to dress yourself anymore! I’m going to burn every last one of those nasty hoodies of yours. Get your arse upstairs…now!”

  Leslie and I look at each other and giggle.

  “I agree with Frank. You are hideous,” she crows, shoving her hand in my face and making a puking gesture. “Get your ass upstairs before Frank has another one of his fits.”

  “Screw you. I love my hoodies,” I say, getting up off the bed. “And Frank, if you burn even one of my hoodies, I will burn those hideous pajamas of yours.”

  He squeals like a girl, and dashes back out into the hall.

  “What’s he doing?” I ask, looking back at Leslie from the doorway.

  She laughs heartily, “He’s hiding them!”

  ***

  “Finley, babe…you look so beautiful,” Brody says, in front of everybody as I walk into the dining room.

  I have to give Frank credit, this outfit rocks. I’m wearing white skinny, leather leggings and a sleeveless electric-blue top with an exposed silver zipper down the front that’s opened scandalously low. I’m wearing my sky-high black wedges again and tons of silver bangles around my wrist and two long teardrop crystal earnings.

  “Thanks,” I say, awkwardly, not enjoying everyone’s perusal of my outfit.

  “How do you handle her strange obsession with hoodies, Brody?” Frank asks, coming up behind me in skinny black jeans, a white button down, and a black bow tie.

  “I love her in everything,” Brody says, smiling at me from across the table. My heart flutters like crazy and I look down, trying to hide the blush I feel creeping on my cheeks. Hopefully, the makeup Frank applied on me upstairs is covering it.

  “Thanks for setting everything out, guys.”

  “Finley, my pet, this looks positively splendid!” Frank says, with more fervor than necessary.