Every Tear You Cry (Redeeming Love Book 4)

by J. E. Parker

  He’s just another wealthy playboy who thinks he’s God’s gift to women.

  It was a lie, and I knew it.

  Brantley may have been a player at one time, but that was no longer the case.

  He’d gotten married, settled down.

  Then again, he’d also gotten divorced.

  Did he cheat on his wife?

  It was a question I already knew the answer to.

  Cheating was a scumbag move, and well, Brantley wasn't a scumbag.

  Still knocked off kilter by his words from moments earlier, I floundered for something to say. When it became apparent that I couldn’t string over two syllables together, Shelby swooped in to save me. Distracted by Brantley's approach, I'd forgotten that she was standing next to me with Liam and Declan, both of whom were silent, beside her.

  I was losing my mind.

  "I hate to break up this sweet moment and all, but if we don't march our rear ends next door within the next few minutes, Grandmama will raise cane."

  With a roll of my eyes, I focused on Bella. "Are you ready to go see Grandmama, princess? Lord knows we don't want to get her riled up."

  "Yes." She nodded, wearing a smile. "I love Grandmama."

  I smiled. "Me too." Turning, I stepped forward and ran my fingers through each of my boy's hair, messing up their thick locks. "You two little delinquents ready?"

  Liam nodded, but Declan scrunched up his nose and narrowed his eyes. "Hey," he said in a teasing tone. "How come we're delinquents, but she's a princess?"

  I lightly bopped him on the nose. "I'm almost certain you were the one who started calling her princess, are you not?"

  He shook his head. "Nope!" He pointed at Brantley. "That was him. I just did what he did."

  "Daddy doesn't call me princess," Bella stated. "He calls me princesa."

  "What's the difference?" Liam asked, confused.

  "Princesa is Spanish for princess," Brantley explained, his eyes never leaving mine. "Just like bella dama is Spanish for beautiful lady."

  "Listen, y'all," Shelby said, shaking her head. "I'm married to a man who likes to spout Italian at me when he gets pissed. I don't need y'all talking Spanish too. I can barely speak proper English half the time"—she playfully stuck her tongue out at a giggling Bella—"so please, for the love of all that is holy, stop it."

  It was impossible not to laugh at her.

  Hair-trigger temper notwithstanding, Shelby was one of the funniest and most loving people I'd ever meet. Like Maddie and Hope, she'd been there for the boys and I every step of the way over the last two years.

  A domestic violence survivor herself, she fully knew of the darkness I found myself in after escaping Colin. It was her that pulled me out of the blackness each time I started to drown.

  For that, I owed her a hell of a lot.

  "I—"A horn honked as a truck passed, interrupting me. It made a right into Grandmama's driveway before coming to a stop.

  I recognized who it belonged to right away.

  Upon seeing the familiar truck, Bella shrieked. "Let me down, Clara. Maddie and Melody are here!"

  Liam scowled. "I get to hug Melody first."

  "No way," Bella argued, wiggling in my hold. "I'm gonna hug her first."

  I lowered Bella to the ground and watched as all three kids ran toward the truck that belonged to Hendrix, Maddie's husband.

  Already out of the truck, Hendrix was unbuckling Melody from her car seat. Once she was free, he stood her on the ground and watched as she took off on unsteady feet toward the three kiddo's running full bore towards her.

  When they met, Liam scooped her up into his arms and squeezed her tight.

  Irritated, Bella stuck her tongue out at him.

  Shelby snorted. “Mark my words, that will be trouble in the years to come.”

  It was my turn to be confused. “What will?”

  Giving me a ‘don’t act stupid’ look, she pointed at Liam and Melody. “That.”

  I was about to tell her she was crazy when Grandmama hollered from her porch. How long she’d been standing there, I wasn't sure. I hadn’t seen her come outside. “Lunch is ready!” She yelled before smiling at Hendrix, who was helping an exhausted-looking Maddie out of the truck. Three days overdue with baby number two, she was worn slap out.

  Grandmama swung her gaze to where we stood. Eyes wide, her gaze bounced between Brantley and I before settling on me. Her smile grew, and I knew trouble was brewing.

  Shelby elbowed me in the side. “You know she’s plotting, right?”

  “She’s crazy,” I said, pulling myself back to the present. “Like, certifiably insane.”

  “Yeah,” Shelby replied, nodding, “and that only makes her more determined.” Winking, she hooked her thumb and pointed over her shoulder at Evan and Hope’s house. “I'll grab Evan, Hope, and little Ry real quick. You and Brantley head on over there before Grandmama marches over here and smacks us all with the flyswatter. Anthony, Felix, and my kiddos are already there.”

  I touched Brantley’s hand with my own. “You ready?”

  His eyes bored into mine. “Yeah, Firecracker, I am.”

  With a nod, I turned my focus to the place where the boys, Isabella, and Melody stood in a circle giggling like little goofballs and started to walk. Brantley’s heat bathed my back as he walked behind me. “Alright, you four,” I said. “Let’s go inside. Grandmama cooked lunch.”

  Grabbing Bella’s hand, Declan dragged her toward the house while Liam followed, carrying a laughing Melody in his arms. It was one of the sweetest things I’d ever seen.

  The kids disappeared into the house as I climbed the front porch steps and came face to face with a waiting Grandmama. Hands on her cocked hips, she peered up at me with raised brows. “Well, you sure are looking fancy today. What’cha all gussied up for?” A conniving grin spread across her face. “You dress up for someone in particular or did you get a bug up your butt and pretty yourself up for no reason?”

  When I didn’t answer her, she leaned to the side and peeked at Brantley.

  Whistling long and low, she waggled her eyes brows and winked in his direction. “Well hey there, handsome fellow. I’m convinced you get better looking every time I see you.”

  Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew Brantley winked right back. “And you get more beautiful each time I see you, Grandmama.”

  Grandmama chuckled and tapped my arm. “I like him,” she said, a pleased expression on her face. “And from the looks of it, I’m sure you do too.”

  Deny, deny, deny.

  "Grandmama, I—"

  "And let me say," she cut in, halting the staunch denial I was about to sling her way, "that makes my job a hell of a lot easier."

  “Grandmama, how many times are we going to have this same conversation? I’m not interested in—”

  With a roll of her eyes, she waved her hand in front of my face, cutting me off. “Don’t you start. You just let me do what I need to. You’ll thank me later.” She turned on her heel to walk back to the open door. Before she stepped inside, she added, “You may be hardheaded and set in your ways, Clara, but I can out-stubborn a mountain.”

  What she meant by that, I had no clue.

  I didn’t get to ask her either because she disappeared inside the house, her slipper covered feet padding against the floor as she went.

  A bit annoyed and a lot frustrated, I stepped forward only to stop mid-stride when Brantley’s warm hand wrapped around my forearm. “Clara, baby,” he said. “Wait, a minute.”

  My head spun a little at the term of endearment.

  I turned, facing him. “I’m not your baby, Pretty Boy.”

  Though I wished I was.

  Brantley peered down at me from his towering height. At five foot nine, I was taller than most women I knew. But Brantley’s height, along with his broad shoulders, made me feel small, something I wasn’t accustomed to. “No”—agitation lined his voice—“you’re not.” He ran his thumb along his bottom l
ip, his gaze still riveted on me. “Have supper with me tonight.” It wasn’t a question nor a request. It was a demand. “It’s the first night in our new house. We need to celebrate.” He closed the small gap between us. Mere inches separated our chests. “It would mean the world to Bella and me.”

  With him so close, I couldn’t think enough to reply.

  Heck, I could hardly breathe.

  A tad bit dizzy, I rested my hands on his chest, steadying myself. The rock-hard muscles that laid beneath my palms twitched, and my heart rose into my throat.

  What the hell is happening to me?

  Lightheadedness consumed me. I swayed on my feet, and Brantley wrapped his muscular arm around my lower back, holding me in place. I leaned against him, pressing my chest to his.

  When our bodies touched, he sucked in a harsh breath. “Clara.” His voice was deep, huskier than before. “Look at me, baby.”

  There was that term of endearment again.

  Head spinning, I focused my gaze on the bottom of his neck.

  A neck I wanted to kiss.

  Brantley slid his thumb under my chin and tilted my head back, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Talk to me.” His brows were furrowed, his head tilted to the side. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong. I—”

  “Damn, man,” a familiar voice, one that belonged to Hendrix, sounded from behind Brantley. “You just got here, and you’ve already rendered Clara speechless. That takes skill, dude.”

  His words were like a bucket of ice water to the chest. The heat consuming me vanished and, in its place, coldness emerged.

  I dropped my hands from Brantley’s chest and stepped back, forcing him to remove his arm from my lower back. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger—why do I let him affect me like this?—I dipped my gaze to the floor.

  I couldn’t bear to meet anyone's eyes.

  “Clara…” Brantley reached for me, but I evaded his grab. “Wait.”

  I pointed toward the door. “I’m going to see if Grandmama needs help with anything.”

  Brantley reached for me again, but I shook my head and moved out of the way, once again evading him.

  “Dang it, handsome,” Maddie fussed from where Hendrix carried her in his arms. “Look at what you did.”

  It was the last thing I heard before walking away.

  Clara

  I hoofed it into the house.

  Bypassing the front stairs and living room where everyone sat watching TV, I made my way into the kitchen where Grandmama stood slicing a tomato.

  At my approach, she dropped her arms to her sides. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to throw a full-fledged hissy fit.” Moving toward me, she clenched the knife tight in her hand. “Just tell me who I need to stab, and I’ll handle it. It was Hendrix, wasn’t it? I swear that boy is hankering for a butt whooping most days.”

  If I hadn’t been so close to losing my godforsaken mind, I would’ve laughed.

  I pointed behind me toward the front door. “That man,” I whisper-hissed, “turns me stupid. I always embarrass myself when he’s around.”

  Grandmama rolled her eyes, exasperated. I didn’t even need to mention Brantley’s name. She already knew who I was talking about. “Is that all? Because I’d be more worried if he didn’t turn you stupid. Just look at him. It’s a wonder you can even talk when he’s within spitting distance. Hells bells, Clara, every time I see him I can’t help but imagine what he looks like naked. I mean, can you imagine how hard his—”

  I threw my arms up. “Oh my God! You are not allowed to talk about Brantley’s”—leaning forward, I lowered my voice so only she could hear me—“penis.”

  Knife still in hand, she crossed her arms. “Look at whose mind is in the gutter. I was going to say muscles, but now that you mentioned his private parts, I’d like to know—”

  “Eww,” Shelby interrupted, walking into the kitchen. “Stop being a dirty old perv, Grandmama. Don’t nobody want to listen to you talk about Brantley’s wiener.”

  Grandmama scoffed. “I’m not the one being a pervert.” She pointed at me with the knife. “Clara is. She’s the one who brought it up, I only went along for the ride.”

  Brantley chose that moment to walk in the kitchen, coming to a stop behind Shelby. It was clear by his expression that he’d heard everything.

  Kill. Me. Now!

  Eyes twinkling, he moved past Shelby and toward me. My heart rate increased with each step he took, and chill bumps erupted along my forearms.

  When he reached me, he placed his hand on my lower back and led me toward the back door. “Come on. You and I need to talk.”

  I didn’t fight him as he took me outside, down the back-porch steps, and through the open door of the garage. Nor did I fight him when he stopped, spun me around, and pressed my back against the sheetrock covered wall.

  Hidden in the shadows, darkness surrounded us.

  I didn’t like it. Not a single bit.

  Panic threatened to overwhelm me, but when Brantley rested a single hand on my hip, it receded. His presence anchored me, his touch calmed me.

  Moving his big body to within an inch of mine, he dipped his face closer. “You never answered my question.” His warm, minty breath ghosted over my face, and I whimpered. He slid a knuckle along the side of my cheek, and I leaned into the touch. “Have supper with me tonight, bella dama.” His hand gripped my hip tighter. My skin burned at the contact. “You know you want to.”

  I did. Badly.

  And not only because I wanted to be with him—the man who was becoming my obsession. I wanted to spend time with Bella too. I loved that little girl so much. The boys and I, especially Declan, had missed her like crazy.

  Like her daddy, I wished she were mine.

  Unsteady on my feet, I dug my fingers into Brantley’s hard biceps. Drunk on a mixture of lust and longing, boldness slithered through my veins. Needing to satiate the hunger that roared inside me, I took the opening I’d been handed, blocked out the voice in my head that screamed how wrong my actions were, and let my body take over.

  I’d wanted Brantley—body, heart, and soul—since the moment I met him.

  His heart was off limits, and his soul would never be the mate to my own, but there was no reason I couldn’t have a small taste of the man who, in another life, could’ve been mine.

  Just one small touch, I told myself.

  “I will.” I paused, gathering my courage. “But only under one condition.”

  He traced his tongue across his lower lip. “Name it.”

  Without giving myself time to think about how reckless I was being, I slid my hands over his shoulders and laced my fingers at the back of his neck. “Kiss me first.”

  Part of me expected him to balk while the other part prayed that he would give me this moment—just this once—to experience what I’d dreamt about nonstop for the past nine months.

  To my surprise, he didn’t balk.

  Nor did he hesitate.

  A growl ripped from his throat as he sunk his hands into my hair, tilted my head back, and slammed his lips down on mine. Hard and possessive, there was nothing soft about the way his mouth moved over mine, and there sure as heck wasn’t anything gentle about the way his tongue probed the seam of my lips, demanding entrance.

  It was a demand I obliged.

  Our tongues met, and my bare toes curled against the concrete floor.

  Wanting—no, needing—to be closer to him, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my chest again his. In return, Brantley wrapped an arm around my lower back melding his body against mine, leaving no space between us.

  The hardness lining the front of his slacks pressed against my lower belly, causing me to gasp. The small noise only spurred Brantley on, making him more crazed and desperate. My body came to life beneath his touch. Heat flooded my veins, and my heart pounded harder than it ever had before.

  Boom, boom, boom.

  The deafening sound of my pulse filled my
ears, and for a moment, I forgot who I was. For just a mere second, my identity disappeared. No longer was I an unwanted foster child or scarred domestic violence victim.

  There, standing in the corner of a darkened garage, I was just a woman kissing the man of her dreams.

  A man that, when the moment ended, I’d push away.

  Even if I didn’t want to.

  The arm wrapped around my lower back disappeared, and a hand appeared in its place. It moved, descending until it slid over the curve of my bigger-than-normal butt.

  Brantley slowed, gauging my reaction.

  When I didn’t object to him touching me so intimately, his fingers dug into me, kneading my flesh. A myriad of sensations overwhelmed me, and I broke our kiss, pulling my lips from his.

  I dropped my head back against the wall and gasped for breath. “Brantley…” Unable to form a coherent thought, my words trailed off.

  Brantley’s entire body shook as he pressed his forehead to mine. Eyes closed, he clenched his jaw tight. “Goddamnit, Clara,” he groaned. “Just… goddamnit… Never in my life…” He sounded as out of control as I felt. “I need—”

  His words were cut off when Maddie hollered from somewhere outside. “Clara!” A second of silence passed before she yelled again. “Brantley!”

  Someone else spoke after her, but I couldn’t make out who it was.

  Shelby, maybe?

  “If y’all don’t get your rear ends in the house, I may strangle you both. I’m hungry, and Grandmama won’t feed us until everybody is seated at the table.”

  Brantley’s tongue slid across his lower lip. “We need to go inside.”

  Disappointed, I dropped my arms to my side. “Yeah.” My voice sounded sad to my own ears. I couldn’t hide my feelings worth a damn. “We do.”

  “Hey.” Brantley’s tight hold on me remained. “Look at me.” I did as he asked. Our eyes met. “This isn’t over.”

  That is where he was wrong.

  It was over. Done. Finished.

  The kiss we shared was great, it was better than great, but it had to be our only kiss.

  My mind, nor my heart, could handle more.

  It may sound weak of me, but I knew if I continued to let him kiss and touch me, I’d end up free-falling into a dangerous place—one which I was afraid I’d never escape.