Embrace

by Fernandez, Michelle

  He rounds the desk, takes my hands, and pulls me closer to his firm body. Brody leans in and presses a mind-blowing, mind-dizzying, and mind-numbing kiss on my lips. The scent of his crisp, clean cologne overwhelms my senses. I just want to wrap my limbs around him like a damn spider monkey.

  There is no space between us as I snake my hands around his neck, his arms wrap around my waist, and we deepen the kiss. His skilled tongue swirls with mine. He tastes of mint and I’m sure I taste like coffee.

  The warmth of his body sends chills down my spine and I wonder how the hell I’m still standing. As if I can’t get enough, I swallow the groan that escapes the back of his throat and love that I can do that to him.

  What the hell is wrong with me? Get a grip, Delilah. You’re in your office. Be professional, for goodness sakes!

  He must have read my thoughts as he breaks the connection and I immediately miss his lips. “We need to stop, sweetheart. Or you’ll be in big trouble with my boss’s wife.”

  I lick my lips, tasting the last of his mint gum. “What are you doing here?”

  “I missed you.”

  “And you just so happened to be in the neighborhood to personally deliver a bouquet of sunflowers and daisies. Which are beautiful, by the way. Thank you.”

  “I wanted to surprise you and put a smile on your face.”

  “Where did you come from? A romance novel or something?”

  He leans back as his hand cradles the back of my neck. “Or something . . . So, you think I’m oh-my-god-sexy, huh?”

  I nervously laugh. “How long were you standing there?”

  “Long enough to know that I’m all man.” Brody presses a gentle kiss on my flushed cheeks then his thumbs glide over them.

  “So, in other words, you heard too much.”

  “And you’re okay with me protecting you . . .”

  I close my eyes momentarily as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I love it when he does that.

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Not really.” I turn to look at my desk. Spreadsheets, mock-ups, and travel reservation data for the last year blankets my desk. The draft on my laptop I have been working on for the last couple of weeks for the presentation to the new owners of Evergreen Escapes. “My plan is to work through lunch and eat the granola bar in my purse.”

  He kisses my forehead and breaks away. “I’ll be right back.” He rushes out the door and returns with a cooler. “Well, how about I set up your lunch right here?” He moves the flowers to the side and opens the cooler.

  One by one, he takes out a clear plastic bowl of salad, a cup of fruit, a bottle of vitamin water, and banana bread. After a closer look, there’s only one set of utensils.

  “I don’t understand . . . what is all this?” I ask.

  “It’s called food, Dorothy.”

  “Clearly . . . You’re not going to eat?”

  “No, I came by to drop it off. I know how busy you are, and I had a feeling you’d be skipping lunch altogether.”

  A hundred thoughts race through my head.

  You are too good to be true.

  I want you.

  I’m falling for you.

  Please don’t break my heart.

  “Thank you,” is all that comes out of my mouth.

  “I need to take care of my lady.”

  I swipe a sliver of carrot from the plate and take a bite. “Speaking of taking care of me, don’t forget about the trip tomorrow.”

  “The trip. About that . . .”

  “We talked about it a couple of weeks ago. It’s the business trip I planned around Dylan’s surprise proposal . . . And you were supposed to book your flight and meet me there. Did you forget?”

  “No,” he clips, and the room suddenly feels chilly.

  “Then what is it?”

  “That’s another reason I came by. I’m sorry, but I can’t go. Something's come up.”

  * * *

  “Why didn’t you tell me about your trip? As busy as my schedule is, I would have gotten a sub and gone with you,” Sydney says, leaning back on my headboard, crossing her legs as she sips wine.

  “I know you would have. Besides, I really wanted to go away with Brody.” I shrug. “Now that’s out the window.”

  With our busy schedules, her end of the year school production, the finals she’s been grading, her spending every available moment with Levi, and the projects I have been working on, I’m missing my best friend.

  I should have asked Sydney to come with me instead of Brody.

  “Hellooo! What am I? Chop liver. Even though I probably wouldn’t have come, I would’ve loved an invitation,” Jenna speaks up, raising a brow as she stares at us through the screen of my laptop. “It really does hurt you exclude me.”

  “Well, if your pretty little ass would make your way to California, open up a boutique out here, then we wouldn’t have to exclude you at all,” Sydney chides.

  “You guys suck,” she huffs, and we laugh.

  “When are you coming out here to visit, Jen?” I ask as I fold a pair of jeans and stuff it in my suitcase.

  “Business is booming. I don’t know if I can anytime soon.” She shows us the label for her new fragrance. “This is my number one seller right now. Look out for it in the mail.”

  “What’s this one called?” Sydney asks.

  “I named it Sweet Moonlight.”

  “I like it,” I say.

  “It’s supposed to be seductive and sexy, yet sweet and innocent. It should make any man go crazy.”

  “Speaking of going crazy, let’s get back to a particular man,” Sydney says then turns her gaze back to me. “He actually said no?”

  I down my wine and extend my arm out, empty glass in hand, and motion for Syd to pour more. She grabs the bottle on my nightstand as I watch her fill it to the rim and I just want to bury my head under the covers.

  “So, let me get this straight. He brings you flowers and lunch, plants a panty-dropping kiss, then last minute drops the bomb on you about changing his mind on an all-expense paid trip to a glamorous campground with a sure thing of sex all weekend . . . I don’t get it.” Sydney reminds me. “What guy in their right mind would turn that down?”

  I roll my eyes. “I was there, remember? No need to rehash.”

  “Did he give you a reason?” Jenna asks.

  “He says it has something to do with his dad. But . . .”

  “You don’t believe him.”

  “He’s hiding something, and this is why I did not want to date so soon and have my heart dissected. He’s so cryptic when it comes to his dad . . . I have opened myself up to him. And Brody is still so secretive about his life. Just like shitbag.”

  “Hey, Brody is nothing like that shitbag. You have to believe that. There’s got to be a legitimate reason.” Sydney exhales and straightens her shoulders. “Brody is obviously attracted to you and cares for you. With all the little surprises. And the best part, you’ve changed. I have my bestie back. Always smiling . . . have you guys had sex yet?”

  “What? No,” I gasp. I may be disappointed he’s not going on this trip, but I can’t help but smile as I remember his amazing abs on display at the beach.

  Jenna giggles. “He’s got you smiling like that and you haven’t had sex yet?”

  “Well, shit! I wonder how big your cheesy-ass grin will be after you get laid.” Sydney laughs.

  I toss a pair of my underwear at Sydney that I took out of my drawer. “We haven’t gotten to that point yet. And I was hoping on this trip it would happen. But I guess not.”

  “It’s a good thing he’s not going if you plan on wearing these granny-panties.” Sydney scrunches her nose.

  “They’re my boy-shorts, you turd!”

  “Well, bring some pretty ones just in case.”

  “What for? It’s not like he will see them.”

  “There’s a saying I heard somewhere . . . if you feel pretty under your clothes, it will show on top of them. It’s lik
e a self-love thing I learned in Cosmo, I think.”

  “That also goes with beautifully fragranced skin,” Jenna adds.

  I pull out my lacy black thong and matching bra. “Like this one?”

  “Holy hussy, Dee. Yes, exactly,” Jenna and Syd gasp.

  “I don’t know why I listen to either of you,” I say as I shove it in my suitcase.

  “Because you love us. And I’m right about Brody. You’ll see.” Sydney quirks a brow and twists her lips.

  “I really hope that I’m just imagining all this. I pray that he doesn’t have some side chick or worse, is married.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and take in a deep breath.

  “I’m sure he’s got a legit reason why he couldn’t go,” Jenna says, then we hear the doorbell in the background. “Shit! He’s here . . . I hate to cut this convo short, but I gotta go.”

  “Who’s that?” Sydney asks.

  “No one.”

  “Liar,” I chime in. “Fess up, hussy.”

  “My date.”

  “Are you going to tell us?” Sydney narrows her eyes.

  “Nope. . . Dee, have a good trip and I will call you later in the week. Syd, say hi to Levi for me. Take care, you.” The screen goes black before we can probe any further.

  I down the rest of my wine, set the glass on the table, and lay my head on Sydney’s lap. “I wanted this weekend to be special.”

  Sydney leans back on the headboard as her fingers comb my hair. “What time’s your flight tomorrow?”

  “Nine. I have my meeting with the resort director at three.”

  “If I didn’t have rehearsals tomorrow and finals to grade, you know I’d be there with you.”

  “I can’t believe you’re making your students rehearse on a Friday night. They should be enjoying the weekend.”

  “The show is in a couple of weeks and this is an original play written by one of my students. Which I got you two tickets.”

  “Well, if I ask Brody to go, he might say no to that too.”

  Sydney playfully slaps my forehead. “Stop playing your violin at your pity party. Sooner or later, he’ll realize that he fucked up by canceling. And when you return from your trip, I bet he’ll be groveling at our front doorstep.”

  “Groveling or not, I just wish he would tell me why he really couldn’t go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Brody

  “I fucked up.”

  “Hell yeah, you did,” Kyle says as I take a long pull of my beer trying my best to ignore his berating of why I changed my mind from Delilah’s invitation. “What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s a weekend fuckfest with your mystery Kansas girl you dare not bring around me. Only because you’re afraid I may steal her from under your nose.”

  “You steal her from me? You wish, fucker,” I snap. He’s pissing me off because he’s been scolding me for the last hour while I’m trying to get sloshed with my whiskey shots and beer.

  Kyle knows how to get under my skin in a matter of seconds. His cocky smile and condescending questions are not the reasons I called him to take off early from work and join me for a drink.

  I look at my phone for the hundredth time, debating whether I should call Delilah. I’m an asshole. I left her without a backward glance. I can’t have it both ways. Wanting her and keeping her at arm’s length.

  I told her something came up and used my dad as an excuse. What the hell is wrong with me? And why am I doing that? So she doesn’t find out about my past or my dad?

  I stare at my phone, willing for her to call me. But she’s angry. Even though she tried not to show it, I know she is.

  My mind wanders to what she’s possibly doing. She should be there by now. I calculate in my head the departure from LAX to Oakland, air travel, the thirty minutes or so on the road, then check-in at the resort.

  I imagine her in a summer dress, skin so soft, hair flowing down her back as she surveys the grounds for the project she’s working on. I could be with her right now. Instead I’m here chugging down alcohol and shit talking with Kyle.

  “First, answer me this . . . why the hell did you lie and tell her you would be with Gerard?” He leans in and lowers his voice. “You and I both know damn well that’s the lie we used in college when we had another chick lined up. Hell, I still use that cop-out excuse.”

  “Because I was.”

  “The operative word . . . was. And you’re not now.”

  I’d gotten a call from Doctor Williams. Dad had another panic attack. Avery’s still in New York with Kyndal Magazine launching her swimwear line. So, I had no choice but to drive there.

  When I entered Dad’s room, he kept calling me Silas Cooper, one of the few names I know. He was Dad’s number two on the team and killed in action.

  The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Pretending to be Senior Chief Cooper was not hard to remember. Thoughts of Matt and Silas collide, and the only difference is Dad made the call that resulted in Silas losing his life. A heavy burden to carry all these years because of an order Dad gave and a decision he made to sacrifice one man’s life in order to save the rest of the men.

  Gerard Reinhardt was a legend. A hero to some and to others, he was selfish. For a man that suffers PTSD and Alzheimer’s, this is the worst memory to hold on to.

  This morning, when I looked into his blank stare, there was nothing. I was Silas Cooper one minute, then a nobody the next. Not even a glimpse of a son or the sailor he once knew.

  Was I not enough for this man to remember me? Did I not make my dad proud? I willingly gave up my old life as a Saint Clair, followed his footsteps and not once had he told me he was proud of me.

  I’m a forgotten memory to this man and a mere stranger in his eyes.

  After spending the morning with Dad and Doctor Williams, I needed to see her. Get my mind off Dad and onto her. She truly is my sunset. I brought her lunch and flowers because it felt good to make her smile. Then I took it all away with the reminder of this weekend and got cold feet.

  My biggest fear is forgetting her, like Dad has done with me. I don’t want her to watch me wither away and feel like she wasn’t ever important enough to stay in my thoughts.

  I left Virginia to work out here hoping it would keep my past at bay. But other ghosts came back and have been haunting me since the moment I got here. Not just Dad. But the memories of being a Saint Clair. The rich playboy. The paparazzi’s hobby. Then the tabloids and allegations of me assaulting a woman was another reason I left California and joined the navy.

  If Delilah finds out, I’ll lose her.

  This is why Delilah deserves better than me and the reason why I haven’t had sex with her. But fuck if I don’t want to. Having her soft skin on mine, to soothe the torments in my head.

  I roughly scrub my face, trying to shake the thought. I can’t have it both ways. Keep her and shove her away. And if she finds out, knowing what I already know about her, she’ll leave me anyway.

  I can’t fucking win.

  So I stay put, order another beer and a double whiskey to add to the numbness I long for. I need to end it with her, it’s the only way.

  “You’re pouting over there like somebody pissed in your Lucky Charms, but you were the one who brought it upon yourself. So, you’re the asshole, a dick, a pussy . . .”

  “Enough, Kyle.” I slam my fist on the table with a resounding thud. “The suggestion box is closed.”

  “Nope. Not to me, it isn’t. What gives, man?” He loosens his tie around his crisp blue shirt, then his arm stretches over the chair next to him. His way of telling me he’s getting comfortable and I’m not getting out of this conversation.

  I drag my fingers through my hair and level my stare at Kyle. “I’m not in the mood to talk about it.” Another long pull of my beer and I empty the bottle without looking at him.

  “Uh-uh, fucker.” Kyle snorts. “You didn’t just call me, make me cancel my afternoon meetings to have a beer and watch waitresses walk around in tight-ass tanks
bouncing their tits just to tease my dick. We have got some catching up to do. And the one I’m most curious about is why you haven’t even slept with her yet. Either she’s not your type, clingy and shit . . . or she’s got that bewitching pussy. So afraid to touch it, and once you do, you’re under her spell and she’s ruined you for the rest of the bunnies that have been hopping for your attention.”

  I shake my head and flip him my middle finger.

  “Then fess-the-fuck-up,” he adds.

  Leave it to him to tell me like it is. I raise my empty beer bottle and motion to the waitress for another round.

  “She’s different. That’s all I’m going to say,” I grumble out the words.

  “Different my ass. You’re afraid to fall for her . . . or, wait . . . you already did.” Kyle clears his throat. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “I never said I fell for her.”

  “You don’t have to, jackass.”

  “You know, you’re pissing me off right now.”

  “It won’t be the first and definitely not the last.” He purses his lips as our stares hold.

  I hate it when he’s right.

  I have been thinking about Delilah a lot and it’s scaring the shit out of me. I brought her lunch for shit’s sake and I wasn’t anywhere near her office.

  Goddamn it. I scrub my face with my hands as the buzz dizzies my head.

  I want her, all of her. Not just because I want to chase her worries away and not because she’s different from any other woman I have met. I want her because of how she makes me feel. She makes me forget the hurt and guilt inside.

  From Matt, Laura, and the boys.

  To my dad, who sits in a damn hospital.

  And being a Saint Clair.

  My mind is running in circles. I have sat here for the last hour in this gloomy bar off the beaten path wondering why I’m here and not with her.

  The waitress drops a beer bottle and the double whiskey on the table as she flirtatiously smiles. A distraction I would usually invite to sit with us after her shift, but I don’t budge.

  Her blonde hair falls over her bouncing tits in her tight tank, showing off her cleavage. Her denim shorts reveal enough cheek to make any man do a double-take and ogle at her long tan legs down to her cowboy boots, and it doesn’t even faze me in the slightest.