Embrace

by Fernandez, Michelle

  “Brody,” she whispers between kisses. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  Christ! It pains me to hear her say that to me and I know she has every reason. My heart breaks hearing those words as I pull away from her soft lips. My forehead rests on hers and my eyes are closed. “Delilah, I would never . . .”

  The warmth of her hand is on my chest. “Then I trust you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Delilah

  “So, how’d it go?” Sydney asks as she points the remote control to the television and turns down the volume. “I didn’t get a call, so is it safe to assume you had a good time?”

  My back leans against the door and the hum of Brody’s truck disappears as he drives down the street.

  I cover my lips to hide the smile on my face. The evening would have been perfect if I didn’t have that damn panic attack.

  “Brody is . . . I don’t know . . .”

  “Uh-oh.” Sydney raises a brow. “Come sit,” she says, patting the cushion next to her.

  I let out an exasperating breath and lay my head on her shoulder. “I like him,” I whisper, calming the flip-flop my stomach is doing. “He’s too good to be true, Syd.”

  “And that scares the shit out of you . . . why?”

  “What if—‍”

  “What if nothing.” Sydney cuts me off as she pushes me off her shoulder and faces me. “You need to stop with this self-doubt crap.”

  “I almost ruined our night.”

  “What happened?”

  “Everything was going so good. We were eating pizza, drinking, laughing. He was telling me about how he grew up out here. Then the damn hockey game on TV. The guys were fighting, and I just lost it. I slipped and said something about the guy hitting her.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “God, I am such an idiot.”

  “You lost me.” Bewilderment is written all over her face.

  I take a moment to gather my thoughts and the words to tell her about what happened this evening.

  “The players were fighting and punching each other. And as he was explaining the game, I got upset. I completely flipped out and compared the fight to Todd hitting me.”

  Sydney cups my cheeks in her palms and looks in my eyes. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “I know.”

  “So then, Brody knows about you?”

  “I’m sure he figured it out.”

  “Oh, babe, I’m so sorry.” Sydney grabs my hand as I sit stock still. “I’m guessing there’s no second date.”

  A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Actually, he’s picking me up in the morning. He said dress comfy and bring a bathing suit.”

  Sydney jerks her head back. “A bathing suit? A pool party perhaps?”

  Then it hits me. “Oh, crap. Levi’s barbeque. I totally forgot, Syd. I’ll cancel.”

  “Stop it,” she clips as she rests her hand on my knee. “There’ll be plenty of barbeques. Go and have your fun with him. I’m just so happy that you finally got out of this house for something other than work or taking Serena for a walk.”

  We both look at my dog sleeping on her bed in the corner of the living room. “It was nice to get out. I felt like me again.”

  Sydney chuckles.

  “What is so funny?” I ask.

  “Brody is all kinds of hot. You think he’s good in bed?”

  “Sydney Coleman,” I gasp.

  “Come on, Dee . . . don’t tell me you didn’t think about it at least once or twice.”

  And that’s just it. I thought about it more than a handful of times.

  * * *

  I glance at my phone buzzing on the side table as I come out of my small bathroom.

  Brody: I had a great time.

  Me: Liar.

  Brody: You don’t believe me?

  Me: Should I?

  Brody: Have I given you any reason not to?

  The smile on my face widens as my cheeks warm and I bite my bottom lip. Out of habit, I play with the charm on my necklace. My eyes go to the sunflowers on my dresser and the card with his penmanship. My phone suddenly rings, and it’s him calling. And those damn butterflies take flight again.

  “Brody,” I answer.

  “I thought I’d call you rather than text.” His voice is smooth and gravelly.

  “Don’t like texting?”

  “I would rather hear your voice than read your words. I want to make sure you’re tucked in bed and the last thing you think about before you close those pretty topaz blue eyes of yours is me.”

  I immediately imagine Brody’s megawatt smile, his strong hands that disarm me, and the kiss where he made me forget about what’s-his-name.

  “Dorothy? You still there?”

  I clear my throat. “Yes, yes, I’m here.”

  “What were you thinking about just now?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I don’t buy it,” he says.

  “I was just thinking of how some things should be left alone and in the past where they belong.”

  “Okay, very well. Then let’s talk about tomorrow.”

  “About that . . . I totally forgot I made plans with Syd.” A moment of silence fills the line and I know I have disappointed him. “So, instead of your plans . . . will you come with me to a barbeque tomorrow?”

  “Are you asking me to be your date, Dorothy?”

  I laugh nervously and shake my head. “A date? No, I-I was just asking . . . I mean, it’s a barbeque.”

  “I would love to be your date.”

  “I’m sorry I ruined the plans you had for us tomorrow,” I tell him.

  “Stop apologizing. There are many more days for me to surprise you, Delilah.”

  I have to pinch myself. Can this guy be anymore perfect?

  “The barbeque starts at noon,” I tell him.

  “Then I will be there at eleven thirty to pick you ladies up.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Brody

  Sweat dripping, chest heaving, and my legs are screaming from the five-mile run Kyle and I just did. Kyle makes his way to the wooden bench next to my truck and sits down. I want to do another five miles, but looking over at my childhood friend with his brown hair drenched, elbows on his knees, hunching over as he coughs, I know he’s done.

  “What’s the matter, old man?” I chuckle as the cool ocean breeze fills my lungs and I wipe my forehead with the small towel that is hanging from my waistband.

  Kyle flips me off. “Asshole. I just got over the flu.”

  “Excuses, excuses.” I extend my leg behind me to stretch it out. “There was a time you could outrun me.”

  “Yeah, well . . . I have been busting my ass in a corner office, while you go fight the world. I haven’t been running as much as I used to.”

  The corner office that was supposed to be mine before we sold the company to Kyle and his father.

  “How’s business?” I open the back door of my truck and grab two water bottles from the cooler.

  “I can’t complain,” Kyle says, catching the bottle I throw his way. “You know I have a job for you whenever you’re ready.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.” I stifle a chuckle, then take a drink of water. “Can you see me wearing a suit and tie, blowing smoke up some fruitcake’s ass?”

  “There was a time when suits were all you wore, Mr. Saint Clair.”

  Fuck and there it is.

  “I’m no longer a Saint Clair. The navy changed me.” The navy changed me so much, the party scene and throwing money around was no longer important.

  “The navy may have changed you, but under all that damn bravado, you will always be a momma’s boy.”

  I return my middle finger this time. Asshole.

  “I go by Reinhardt, jerk-face.”

  “Well, whatever you go by . . . It’s good to see you made it back in one piece, Bro.”

  “Almost didn’t,” I say, taking a seat next to him as I lift the nylon of my shorts and show him the burns and the scar from the operat
ion. “That damn frag still got me.”

  “Damn, dude,” Kyle hisses and the wince on his face says it all. “You’re one tough motherfucker. Either way, I’m glad you’re home. Speaking of, how’s that security company you’re working for?”

  “Cole Security Forces. It’s good.”

  “Can’t get away from it, can you? Still need to be part of the action.”

  I nod. “That’s what I like.”

  “Speaking of action . . . I heard you were out with a hottie last night.”

  Damn small town. I saw a few high school buddies and they gossip like a bunch of fucking schoolgirls.

  “Her name is . . . Dorothy,” I tell Kyle, not saying her real name. Knowing him, he’ll snoop and see if she’s part of the social circles he still runs with.

  “Is she from here?” he asks the question I anticipated.

  “Kansas.”

  Kyle belts out a laugh. “Are you shitting me? Dorothy from Kansas.”

  “Go figure.”

  “So, what’s her story?”

  I think back to last night, the look in her eyes, and the words on the screen in front of me. I looked her up and found out she’s Dylan Marshall’s sister. The ex-SEAL shot at the festival and who Jackson and Mark spoke of.

  The thing about working for a private security company is the access. I know I shouldn’t have run a background check, but my curiosity got the best of me.

  Dee graduated from Emporia, studied marketing. Her friends, lifestyle and . . . somehow, his name appeared in my search. Todd-fucking-Meyers. He used Dee’s home as his last known address. Disbelief married with my rage as I stared at his mug shot.

  How the hell did she get herself involved with that scumbag?

  The drug dealings and the countless assault charges. Was Delilah involved with this too? Is that why she didn’t want to talk about it?

  “So, what gives, man?” Kyle asks, bringing back to the here and now.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you know about her?” He rests his elbows on his knees as a moment of silence stretches between us.

  A lot more than I should and wished I waited for her to tell me.

  “Not a lot,” I lie.

  “So, you fucked her then.”

  “Don’t be a dickhead, Ky,” I clip, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “So, you didn’t fuck her?” He jerks his head back. “That’s a surprise.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Come on . . . the stories you told me about when you were in Virginia and . . . and you’re a Saint Clair.”

  I wish he would stop calling me that. “I’ve changed.”

  “Changed, my ass.” He levels his glare at me. “Are you serious?”

  I nod as a woman in tight leggings, flat stomach, and voluptuous breasts filling her sports bra runs past us with her dog on a leash. She smiles at me.

  “You need to go hit that,” Kyle tests, raising a brow as his eyes follow her up the path.

  “Nah. I’m good.”

  “Do my ears deceive me? Did you just turn her down?”

  “Like I said, I’m good.”

  “Is Brody-bump-them-uglies turning over a new leaf? No more fuck ’em and chuck ’em?” Kyle teases, pushing my buttons. “Now I really need to meet Dorothy from Kansas.”

  “Not a chance, you horny bastard.”

  “Whoa. So, let me get this straight . . .” He flicks up his thumb. “First, I assume you didn’t sleep with her”—he holds up another finger—“and you’re keeping her locked in an ivory tower away from us evil horny men.” A third finger flips up. “Lastly, I’d say she’s got your balls in a tight hold, making you look the other way from tits like that one.” He juts his chin toward the woman that ran past us.

  “Shut the fuck up already.” I stand to get some distance from Kyle because if he keeps talking shit, I may face-plant him.

  I glance at a few passing female runners, smiling at both Kyle and me. I don’t move like the old me would have and chase down the bunnies to ask for their number. Instead, all I can think about is how I look forward to seeing Delilah today.

  “Okay, seriously . . . how’d you meet her?”

  “At a club.”

  “A club?” He raises a brow. “I thought you weren’t into that scene anymore.”

  “I was working, dickhead.” I flick my open bottle toward him as water sprays in his direction. “As far as I can tell, she wasn’t enjoying herself. So, I escorted her to where she was getting picked up. But then I lost her in the crowd.” I drag my hand through my sweat-damp hair. “The night I called your sick ass to grab a drink, I took a walk instead. Then there she was . . . at Tawney’s. She was leaving the diner, and I ran after her. Walked her home.”

  “No shit. So, is she hot?”

  I picture her standing in the living room wearing only her bra and jeans and her rosy cheeks. Her embarrassment was so adorable as she tried covering her amazing body with a tiny throw pillow.

  “She’s not just hot, she’s drop-dead gorgeous, yet so reserved. She’s not like other women. I can’t explain it. It’s the—‍”

  “It’s the pussy-lasso.”

  I spit out the sip of water I nearly choke on. “The what?”

  “Pussy-lasso. She roped your balls and all she’s got you thinking is about her.”

  “You have officially lost it, you know that, Kyle?”

  He whistles out a sigh and points his finger at me. “Actually, you have lost it, my friend.”

  He’s right, I have lost it.

  I fucking called her last night to make sure she was tucked in bed. What the hell? I have never done that before. I must have left my balls in Virginia or maybe Ky’s right, Delilah has her rope tightly wrapped around my dick.

  All I think about is her and wanting to be with her.

  And the kiss last night was off the charts. Sure, she made my dick twitch, and I needed to calm it down. But, fucking Christ, her lips on mine was pure and simple, and I wanted more. I have never felt like this before.

  “There’s something about her and not because she’s beautiful.”

  “You’re already pussy-whipped over someone you haven’t had yet.” He points his finger at me. “Let’s hope she’s not one of those steaks grilling on the barbie. It smells good, your mouth salivates and gets your taste buds ready to take a bite . . . And when you do, it’s just your average chicken.”

  “Nah, I know she’s nothing like that.”

  “How do you know?” Kyle chuckles.

  “I don’t, but I’m willing to wait to find out and I know she’s going to be worth it.”

  Kyle wiggles his brows as a woman runs past us. Firm stomach, tits bouncing in a sports bra, and tiny black shorts. “Let’s do another couple of miles,” he says.

  “You get your second wind? Or something caught your eye?” I point my chin to the woman Kyle was eyeing. I set my watch, ready to track my pace as I jog in place. “A couple more miles and then I’ve got to head out.”

  “What, no breakfast after to refuel?”

  “Next time,” I say and can’t help the tug at the corner of my mouth.

  “By the look on your pretty face, you’re going to meet up with your Kansas girl.”

  “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

  “Gentleman, my ass. There used to be a time you sang like a canary, Saint Clair.”

  “Will you stop calling me that, asshole?”

  “Yup, just like I thought. Not only did she use her pussy-lasso, she took your man card.” Kyle chuckles and darts up the sidewalk. “Meet you on the other side,” he calls out.

  His words take a moment to sink in as I watch him jog up the sidewalk.

  My man card? Hardly. But one thing is for sure, she’s got a tight hold of my balls and hell if I want her to let go.

  * * *

  “You should come to the set, man. We’re filming on site in downtown LA in a couple of weeks,” Levi says after he tip
s back his beer.

  “Ah, man, that would be great,” I say with a little bit too much excitement as a photographer snaps a candid photo of us talking.

  “We wouldn’t be in the way, Levi?” Delilah asks as she reaches for a chip in the bowl.

  “Nah, not at all.” He kisses Sydney on the side of her head. Another picture snaps. “Besides, Syd could use the company. She was bored the last time she was there when we had a ten hour straight run.”

  The beer quenches my thirst as the Southern California warm weather mixes with the cool breeze from the Malibu coast. We have been at this party for the last couple of hours and Delilah’s laugh is intoxicating as we continue to shoot the shit.

  The three talk about the fun times they had as kids. Delilah spoke of her new project she’s working on. Sydney talked about her end of the school year production with her students and Levi told us a few spoilers to the upcoming episodes of Silver Badge.

  As more people arrive, Levi needed to be a good host, and tend to his guests, leaving me and Delilah alone.

  I can’t help but gaze at Delilah’s short denim skirt that shows off her tan legs and don’t let me get started on the floral tank top that covers a small black bikini top with the strings tied around her neck.

  “Are you having a good time?” she asks in her shy tone.

  “Of course. I’m here with you.” I take a sip of my beer and tap my knee to hers.

  Delilah sips her wine as she looks over to her friends on the other side of the yard. “It’s really good to see them together. It feels like ages since I’ve seen him.”

  “If you hadn’t left the club that night you would have seen him then.”

  “And if I had stayed, I would have been the third wheel.” Delilah points her chin toward Sydney with Levi’s arms draped over her shoulders. “And I would have had to get an Uber anyway.”

  “Is that why you left?”