“And why would you do that?”
The image of that drunk woman as if she was staking a claim on Brody comes back to me. Mused hair, pouty lips, and her breasts pressed against him. All because of his good looks and spellbinding eyes, which are hard to look away from. I’m sure he can wiggle his way into the undergarments of any woman.
Maybe even mine.
“When that drunk girl fell in your arms, I figured you were one of those guys.” Did I just say that? I could kick my ass.
He twists his lips and his grin turns playful. His fingers softly pull on my chin and his eyes lock onto mine. And I swear, this time, I hear another brick fall from my wall.
I should jerk back, feel skittish at his touch. But I don’t this time. I steady my breathing as he stands in front of me. Chemistry I feel and don’t want, ignites in the air.
“I assure you I am not that kind of guy. Losing you in that crowd was the last thing I wanted. Finding you tonight and walking you home is exactly where I needed to be.”
“Thank you.”
“Have dinner with me.” His voice is demanding, yet gentle.
“Dinner . . . like a date?”
“Yes, a date. That thing two people do to get to know each other better.” His finger volleys between us. “Maybe grab a bite to eat. Besides, I owe you a cup of hot cocoa since I made you drop it.”
“Oh, I don’t know . . .” I avert my eyes to the front door when Serena yelps, her cry for a walk.
“Tell you what. We can make it casual. Meet me at Tawney’s, let’s say Friday at nineteen hundred.”
“Friday?”
“Yes. Comes after Thursday, before Saturday. It’s a week from today. Friday.” He takes a step back as he taps on his wrist.
“I-I . . . Brody, what if I said no?”
“Uh-uh . . . nice try, but I will make sure you’ll want to meet me.”
“Oh, yeah, how?”
“I have my ways. And a few surprises up my sleeve.”
“Like how you surprised me tonight?”
“Get in that well-lit house of yours, lock up behind you, and take care of Toto. She sounds hungry.” He points to the front door. “Are you sure you don’t have a flying monkey in there?”
I laugh as I unlock the door and Serena sniffs my leg then angles her head as she looks over to Brody.
“See you Friday, Dorothy!”
Chapter Six
Brody
Did I just ask her out on a date? I guess I did.
Instead of walking back to the diner where I know Tawney will grill me, I hop in my truck. I laugh to myself as I sit in the comfortable leather seat, remembering only an hour ago when I sat in this truck, bearing a heavy burden. After seeing Dee this evening, I feel like some of that weight lifted off.
Staring at the muted radio on my console, I pick up my cell phone and my finger lingers over the name. The heat of my thumb must trigger it to dial. Without a ring, it’s answered. Instead of his voice, it’s hers that vibrates through the speakers.
“Brody?” she asks, her voice is groggy.
“Hey, sorry . . . I didn’t mean to call you.” I clear my throat as guilt washes over me. “My finger accidentally—”
“What time is it?” I hear Laura shuffling. I can picture her grabbing the clock next to her bed. A place I remember all too well from when I laid next to her and let her cry herself to sleep after Matt’s funeral.
“Oh-dark-thirty,” I tell her as my shoulders slump, and I lean my head back on the cushion.
“Is everything okay?” Laura asks with a snicker. “Haven’t heard Navy slang time in forever.”
“Yeah . . . everything is good.” I let out a long breath. “Go back to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow when you and the boys are awake.”
“I’m up, you might as well tell me what’s bothering you,” she says.
“Mommy, who are you talking to?” I hear one of the boys ask, Max, I think. His voice is muffled through the line.
“Shhh, it’s Uncle Brody. Go back to sleep, honey.”
“Laura . . . I’m sorry, I guess I just wanted to hear his voice.” There’s a moment of silence and I can hear her struggling with her next words.
“I can’t seem to let Matt’s phone go. It’s a part of him, ya know?”
I let out a soft chuckle. “Matt was notorious for recording our stupid drunk conversations to use later for blackmail. And the pictures were just as bad.”
“Brody, every time you called Matt in the middle of the night, it had to do with a . . .” Laura clears her throat and I know she needs to choose her words wisely since one of the boys was next to her. “Shenanigan you hooked up with,” she finishes.
Memories enter my mind of the nights out with Matt at the bar, tossing back drinks as I checked out the bunnies. Each one hopping from one guy to the next was entertaining. Me, Matt, and the rest of our team had bets who would be the next one to approach us.
Never once did Matt’s eye wander or did he cheat on his beautiful wife. If the thought ever crossed his mind, I’d have kicked his ass. Laura is like a sister to me.
“Laura, I didn’t hook up with a shenanigan tonight.” I stifle a laugh.
“Come on, Reinhardt. I’m not deaf. I have overheard many conversations between you two . . . so tell me all about your escapade this evening.”
“Laura, I’m going to let you go back to sleep.”
“What? Talking to me about this is no different than with Matt since he would tell me about them anyway.” Her groggy giggle fills the line.
“Did Matt tell you about all the girls?”
“I’m sure there were some that he kept to himself.” She lets out a breath. “I can honestly say, he lived vicariously through you.”
“Laura, he never cheated on you. Never even thought about it. He loved you too much.”
“I know.” She lets out a sigh. “Thank you,” she says softly, and I can hear the hurt behind her whisper.
“For what?” I run my hand through my hair as guilt stirs in my stomach. “Your husband is dead and you’re thanking me?”
“For being my husband’s best friend. For being a brother to him. For being an amazing uncle to my boys. And for the extra money in the account every month.”
“Money?” I feign innocence.
“I got a letter from the bank letting me know a Mr. Saint Clair opened up a bank account in my name. So, don’t play coy. I know it was you.”
“You and those boys are my family.”
And a promise is a promise.
Chapter Seven
Delilah
I hear the rain start again as it pelts my window. Serena snorts next to me, curled up on the other side of my bed. Feeling off balance, I stare at the ceiling. I can’t sleep.
All I can think about is Brody’s boyish grin under the rugged stubble on his chiseled jawline and the sparkle of his brandy colored eyes.
How can Brody, a man I’d only met for a brief minute at a club, suddenly appear on my path home and make me forget the fear of my past?
Thunder claps and vibrates my window as it shakes me from my thoughts of Brody. The weather should clear up tomorrow since this is the last of the storm to pass through.
My eyes grow heavy as I stare at my night light and I know how juvenile it is to have one. The shadows from the crack of lightning and the drum of raindrops against the window play tricks with my imagination, bringing back the sound of his fist against my skin.
“Who were you with?” His skull tattooed hands shove me against the wall.
“Nobody,” I whimper, staring back at a man I don’t recognize anymore. No longer is there warmth in his eyes like when we first met. I see only full-blown rage and jealousy in them.
“I saw you.” His breath reeks of beer, hard liquor, and cigarettes.
“Who did you see me with?”
His laugh is evil and patronizing. “Are you calling me a liar?” His grip on my chin is tight, I almost can’t move my mouth.
“Todd. Please. You’re hurting me.” Fear chills my skin, and I’m completely immobile with his body pushing me against the wall.
His hard dick presses against my thigh. His chest rises and falls as he glares at me. He tips back the bottle and downs the remaining whiskey, then throws it against the opposing wall making a loud crash as broken glass shards pepper the floor.
He leans closer to my ear. His warm breath and dead calm frighten me. “I should kill that asshole who touched you today.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I push the bile down my throat, afraid of the inevitable, the blows of distrust that will leave marks on my body.
“Don’t lie to me, Dee-li-lah.” He stresses each syllable and I instantly hate my name as it snickers off his drunken breath.
He grips my shoulders and slams me into the wall. My ears ring when my head bangs against it. “That doctor. I saw how he looked at you . . . and you hugged him.”
“Doctor Tennyson is a family friend. Nothing more.” My voice is a plea as I stare at the crazy man in front of me. It’s Jenna and Levi’s brother, and I can see why Todd’s jealous. Asher is a bachelor, very handsome, and every single woman in Windmill Creek wants to be his Mrs. Tennyson. “I had to take Daxton to see him. We were saying goodbye.”
“How many times have I told you . . . I don’t want anyone to touch you except me.” His hand tightens around my neck. It will leave a mark, and all I can think about is wearing a turtleneck, so I won’t get questioned.
He throws me across the kitchen table, and I fall hard on the floor. Pieces of glass from the whiskey bottle cut me, and I hear a snap in my elbow as a scream escapes my lungs and endless tears fall down my face.
My voice quivers as I yelp in pain, holding my arm. I think it’s broken.
“Todd. No. Please. I beg you.”
He unbuckles his belt and shoves his jeans down, then he’s on top of me, pulling my skirt up. His lips are on mine, pressing so hard I can’t breathe.
“Love hurts, baby. You. Are. Mine. Do you understand?” he hisses. “Mine.”
I wake with a jolt, my throat is dry, and my mind scrambles to rouse from the nightmare. Only it wasn’t just a nightmare. It really happened.
My trembling hand wipes the sweat from my forehead. My eyes squint from the light peeking through the blinds and Serena is licking my cheek.
I’m home. In California. And Todd is in jail.
I steady my breathing, shut my eyes, and count to ten. It’s something I learned at the weekly meetings I attend with other women like me—survivors. It’s a place of support and a place where I can break down without judgement.
I pick up my cell phone, needing to hear the voice that brings solace to my mind, body, and soul. The other end rings a few times, then I hear him. “Hello? Marshall residence.” The innocence of Daxton’s voice greets me. “How may I help you?”
“Dax . . . it’s me.” God, I miss my baby brother. We are only four years apart but with Down syndrome, he sounds and acts much younger.
“Lulu!” he screeches the name from my childhood. “I miss you. When are you coming home?”
“Oh, Dax. Not for a while. I live in California now, remember? But soon, I promise I will come visit,” I sigh. “So, tell me what’s been going on at home?”
I place Daxton on speaker as his giggle electrifies the line and warms my heart. He continues to tell me all the things that have been going on at the ranch as I brush my teeth and wash my face. And how he, Susie, Catrina, and Mama already made a batch of cookies today.
I make my way into the kitchen and place a mug on the Keurig machine, insert a pod, and press the button. I open the blinds and am grateful the weatherman was right for once. The storm is finally gone, the skies are clear, and the sun is bright.
“. . . and Papa has done all the crosswords. I help him. I’m smart. Papa wants more, Lulu,” Daxton finishes his rant. A shuffle of the phone and another giggle from Daxton, I hear Mama in the background. “Mama wants to talk to you.”
“Okay, Dax. I love you.”
“Love you more, Lulu.” I hear the sound of a kiss through the line and my heart swells.
“Lu?” One word and Mama’s voice sends a tear down my cheek. I can picture her wiping her hands on her apron after putting a batch of homemade cookies in the oven.
“Hi, Mama.”
“Oh, baby girl! I’m so happy to hear your voice.” I hear a clatter of pans in the background. “Oh, dear!”
“Mama, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. These kids are cleaning up the mess we made. Hold on, honey . . . Dax, Cat, Susie-Q, can you go outside for a while and give me some privacy? I need to talk to Lu in some peace and quiet.”
I hear hoorays as their feet stomp on the wooden floor. The floorboards I grew up on and that I miss. And remember all too well which one squeaked when I tried to sneak in after curfew.
“Mama, what are Catrina and Susie doing there? It’s Saturday.” Susie is Jacob’s daughter. Although Jacob is my cousin, I consider her my niece, my quite feisty niece.
“Cat came over to play with Susie. And I told Franny to take advantage of her alone time and schedule a spa day. Jacob is at the horse auction today. Normally he would take Susie, but she’s at that wandering off and being independent age. You were like that too when you were five. Anyway, he thought it would be better for her to stay here for the weekend.” I hear the faucet and I know she’s washing dishes.
“Remember what happened at the Harvest Festival . . . my god, Lu.” She lets out a breath. “When that piglet wandered. Jacob was a mess, only to find her inside the maze an hour later. And thank goodness they went home right before the shooting . . .” Her voice falters, then she clears her throat. “Anyway, did I mention Drake is being awarded for his bravery and the way he handled the shooting?”
The Harvest Festival shooting put Dylan in a coma. A time when our lives came to a standstill. Remembering how Dylan laid on the bed with tubes and cables all over him and the sound of the heart monitor being the only thing that gave us hope.
“Mama, Dylan’s okay now. And he’s got Phoebe and they’re about to give you another grandchild, might I add,” I say to lighten up the conversation.
“Dylan got a job with the Letelles as their personal bodyguard,” Mama says proudly. “He gave Leta and Chelle the rights to record that song he sang at the festival. They’re paying him royalties. ‘Knots’ is their number one hit. Imagine that.”
I giggle. “Yes, I hear it on the radio all the time.” A pleased grin lights my face knowing how proud she is of my two brothers.
“I can’t believe he made up that song on the fly. Thankfully, Leta recorded him live.”
“Imagine that,” I repeat her words as I take the creamer out of the fridge.
“I wonder if that’ll be their wedding song?” Mama inquires and I can hear her thoughts stirring in that brain of hers.
“Mama, Dylan hasn’t asked Phoebe to marry him.”
“Lu, it’s inevitable. Your brother adores Phoebe. He’ll ask her, you wait and see.”
“And how’s Daddy?” I stir the sweet creamer in my coffee. “Dax tells me he’s done with the batch of crossword puzzles I mailed a couple of weeks ago.”
“Your daddy is tickled pink and looking forward to the next ones.” Her voice is like a warm blanket. “I swear he thinks he’s smarter than an elephant.”
“Maybe I should send him the next level up. Test and tease that brain of his.” I laugh as the hot coffee touches my mouth.
“Yes, please do. Anyway, tell me about your new job.”
Guilt stirs in my chest, and my heart sinks from her probing. “Mama, I have a confession to make.”
“A confession?” Silence fills the line for a beat. “Go on. You have my undivided attention.”
“I lied to you. I did get the job, but not at the time when you asked me.”
“Delilah Noreen Marshall.” Her voice is stern. “Baby girl, wh
at’s going on?”
“I wanted you to be proud of me, like you are of Dylan and Drake.”
“Delilah, I am proud of you. What makes you think I wouldn’t be?”
I think of Todd and the threats he made, and the secrets hidden behind closed doors. “When I started dating Todd, I know I disappointed you. Daddy and Drake told me to stay away from him. I saw the looks you all gave me and heard the whispers behind my back. But I stayed with him anyway.”
“Oh, Lu.” Her voice is soft, almost remorseful. “In the beginning, I gave him a chance. But the moment I saw the change in you . . . I knew.”
“What do you mean you knew?” My fingers play with the cross charm hanging from my necklace.
“I have been there, Lu.” Her voice is only a whisper, one that has hurt behind it.
“Been where, Mama?”
“Before I met your daddy, there was Albert. And he was just like Todd.”
“Mama, what are you saying?”
“You don’t think I saw the bruises? Then the broken arm and the turtlenecks. It started adding up.”
“H-how . . . I mean, why didn’t you . . .” A tear rolls down my cheek.
“If I had asked you, you would have denied it. I certainly did when my friends asked me about Albert.” She clears her throat. “I had Drake look into Todd for me.”
So she’s the reason Drake kept a close eye on Todd. I should be mad, but her past justifies her reasons.
“I’m sorry you went through that.” The coffee I’m sipping is no longer satisfying. “I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t know. That’s not something we would talk about over Sunday dinner.” She laughs and I can hear a sniffle. “Then your daddy came out of nowhere and was an absolute gentleman. At first, I didn’t know how to act. I was always on guard around him. He was too good to be true and still is.”
“Daddy is something special,” I confirm, letting out a fortifying breath.
“Listen, honey, I know you moved out there to find yourself again. I understand that more than you know. And although your daddy helped me become whole again, I still had to see a professional.”
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