by Renee Wynn
“It’s about time your ass woke up.” A loud voice came from behind him. “The day is almost over.”
He jumped, sitting up in the chair too quickly and shouldn’t have. His head and stomach rebelled. He slumped back against the chair. He grabbed his head, which was pounding and screaming at the same time, and tried to hold it still. Any moment now it was going to explode. He closed his eyes tight, and felt a hard kick to his bare feet. It hurt liked hell but he refused to open his eyes.
“What the hell are you doing here, Ashton?”
“Here drink this.”
He opened one eye and peered at the mugs, one in each of his friend’s hands.
“What is it?”
Ashton held up the large cup first.
“Black strong coffee.”
Brody sat up slowly, mindful of the dull ache at his temple, pain in his eyes and his throbbing head.
“That I’ll take,” he said reaching for it.
Ashton lifted it out of his reach. “Not so fast. First you need to drink the ‘Flood.’
Brody stared at him. “The what?”
“You remember how we did it in college after a binge. A glass of V-8, raw egg, chopped garlic, celery, ginger, cayenne pepper, and white vinegar. It’s the cure for all, a headache, an upset stomach and a bad disposition.” He held it out to Brody.
“Go to hell, Ashton.”
He laughed loudly and Brody cringed at the sound, grabbing his head again.
“I believe you have already been there. See anything you liked?”
He drank the damn concoction in one gulp. He wiped the back of his mouth with his hand. “That shit is nasty.”
“Now you can have your coffee.”
Brody took it and savored the hot brew.
He looked at his friend and asked again. “What are you doing here?”
“You called. I came.”
“I didn’t call you.”
“My caller ID and wife beg to say something differently. It was three o’clock in the morning in Dallas, which means it was two o’clock in Missoula.”
He racked his brain for the conversation and only came up with fuzzy patches of him drinking from a bottle.
“Please extend my apologies to Nicole. I didn’t mean to disturb her.”
“What about me?”
Brody glared at him. “What about you?”
“Where is my apology?”
“Kiss my ass, Ashton,” he said with more bite than intended.
He had the nerve to chuckle, which only pissed Brody off more.
“I know you didn’t mean that literally, but lovingly.”
“Ashton—”
He held up his hand. “Sorry.” He grabbed a chair, slid it in front of Brody, and sat. “Now tell me what is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You scared the hell out of me. I called my pilot and was airborne within an hour of your call. I used my key to come in, which I didn’t need, because the door wasn’t locked. I found you sprawled in a chair, drunk; pieces of broken glass were scattered on the floor and a wall redecorated with the brown liquid contents from what I assumed was a bottle of bourbon, your beverage of choice, right behind a can of Coors. So don’t tell me it’s nothing when I know it’s something. What is it?”
“I told you, it’s nothing.”
“It’s Danielle, isn’t it?”
“Danielle?”
“Oh, now you want to pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about? You have been sniffing after her for months.”
“I have never sniffed after a woman in my life.”
“Well, there is always a first time and it’s yours, my friend.”
Brody remained silent. He didn’t feel like debating the issue especially when it had truth written all over it.
“Look, I know you have a thing for Danielle. What happened at my house, between the two of you, raised my antenna. But your call last night put the icing on the cake. You’re serious about her. I have never seen you act like about a woman. She had you tied in knots and you still are.”
Brody opened his mouth to dispute it but closed it.
“You want her. But, I’m telling you if you really do, none of this fuck them and leave them shit, I mean a real relationship, then I’m one hundred percent behind you. Go for it.”
“I did.”
“You did what?”
“Go for it. Just like you said. I asked for a relationship and she turned me down.”
“Wow. Why did she turn you down?”
“She didn’t believe I had changed.”
“Why would she? For the last couple of months you have been fucking everything in a skirt.”
“It’s not as bad as you think.”
“Are you telling me you have been celibate since you slept with Danielle?”
“No, but—”
“You can’t have a ‘but’ when it comes to Danielle. She is like Nicole. It’s all or nothing, and while you’re deciding, she expects you to keep your dick in your pants, which you didn’t.”
“Damn, Ashton! You don’t need to go there. I admit I messed up.” He stood and started to pace. “I didn’t want to care about her but somewhere in the midst of it all, I did. She’s different, Ashton.”
“I know that. But how is she different to you?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”
“If you don’t know, let her go.”
“I can’t.”
“Then you better examine yourself closely and find the answer. Danielle is the real thing. Not one of your flings to be thrown back into the cesspool you created.”
“She’s beautiful,” he said, softly. “I don’t mean only on the outside, but inside. She’s a giver and don’t expect nothing in return. I’m wrong. She expects honesty. Hell, she deserves it and much more. Although she was an orphan, like me, she’s stronger than I am. I don’t believe she is haunted by her past like I am.”
“How does she make you feel?”
He thought about it. “She makes me feel warm…complete…like I have purpose. I’m calm when I’m with her. She completes me.”
“You love her?”
“Yes, I do,” he said with confirmation.
“Then go and get her.”
“It’s not that easy—”
“It’s not easy running a billion dollar business, but you do.”
“I—”
“You don’t have a lot of time, so get to it.” He pointed at Brody. “I’m going home to my wife.”
Chapter Nineteen
Two days later, Brody was in town when he glanced across the street and saw Brick Horne standing outside of Tilley’s Café, talking to a tall, long-legged woman. Her back was to him so he couldn’t see her face. She had on a short-fleeced jacket, gloves and a matching stylish wool hat covered her head, but it was something about her stance that caused him to slow his walk. After studying the back of the woman for a long moment, he continued on to where he was going but stopped completely when he heard a robust laugh erupt from Brick.
He narrowed his eyes, when the woman threw back her head and laughed—, hard, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He would know that laugh even in the dark of night.
Danielle.
He clenched his fist and willed his feet to keep moving but they refused. A deep ache started in the pit of his stomach and moved slowly toward his heart. He took deep breaths, inhaling air into his lungs. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, opened them and glanced across the street again.
What the hell was she still doing in Missoula? It had been almost a week since she walked out of his house and life. He thought she went back to New York.
Brick, who was at least 6’5 inches, bent low and wrapped his arms around Danielle, almost lifting her from the ground, causing her to laugh even more. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and brought her back to her feet.
He gritted his teeth to keep from crossing
the street and interrupting their gleeful time together. What he really wanted to do was knock Brick on his ass or beat the hell out of him for messing with his woman. Whoa! Danielle wasn’t his woman. She’d made that abundantly clear when she walked out on him without a backward glance.
Brody started walking, hoping that he could avoid another confrontation with Brick when he heard someone holler his name.
“Hey, Beaumont.”
Brody took a deep breath, his whole body tight and slowly turned toward him. Brick had crossed the street and was fast approaching. Today didn’t seem to be his day. Brody watched him as he slithered in front of him. Brick was a couple years older than him and looked it. However, the women of Missoula would probably disagree with him.
“Horne,” he said in a low voice.
“I haven’t seen you around lately. Thought maybe you went back to Texas.”
“Nope.”
He waited to hear what he had to say. Brick nodded to Danielle’s retreating figure. “I want to talk about that little lady over there.”
Brody’s entire body tightened. He frowned but remained silent. He refused to glance toward Danielle and show Horne his anger or that he cared.
Brick glared at him. “You and she seemed to have had an intense conversation at the bar a couple of weeks ago. Like maybe you had a history or something else.”
Brody waited, giving nothing away. He ran his tongue along his lower lip and then clenched his teeth again. He wasn’t going to offer any information one way or the other.
“You got designs on her?” Brick asked.
“Designs?” Brody asked, even though he knew what the hell Brick was asking.
“You know what I mean, Beaumont. Don’t be a hard ass. I watched you sniffing at her way across the bar like a lion in heat.” Brick grinned. “But I didn’t see her sniffing back.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about then, do you?”
“Danielle and I are dating,” Brick said. “I plan for us to continue doing so. I just wanted to make my intentions clear.”
“You and Danielle, dating?” Brody asked in a low voice. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Brick grinned and flicked an imaginary speck of lint from his shirt. He was stroking his own ego and it pissed Brody off even more. He gritted his teeth to quail his temper, which was raging inside of him.
“I see.”
“I’m glad you do. That little filly and I are getting along really well. I wanted to make sure there isn’t a problem.”
“You going for long term, Horne?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Never known you to date a woman, for what, more than a couple of weeks or so?”
“Things have changed.”
Brick must be kidding. He never had a long-time relationship with any woman, at least none that he had seen. So now he wanted to change his MO? Brody didn’t believe it.
“Well, good luck,” Brody replied.
“One more thing, Beaumont?
“What?”
“Stay the hell away from her.”
Before Brody lost control of the anger fighting to escape, he turned and moved to put as much distance between him and Brick Horne as possible.
“I don’t believe the little filly likes you much, Beaumont,” his neighbor yelled at Brody.
Shit. Shit. Brody stopped, looked back at him, and narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything.
Brick hooked his fingers through the loops of his jeans and strolled towards him. Brody could tell by his brisk pace that he was itching for a fight. He clenched and unclenched his fists, inhaling deeply. Just what he needed today—a pissed off Brick Horne. It wouldn’t be the first time his face met Horne’s fist and vice versa. This was Brick’s show and Brody let him set the mood for the exchange between them.
Walk away, he told himself. He wasn’t going to give Brick the satisfaction of sparring with him, not when he was madder than a cat caught in a chicken coop. Danielle didn’t want him but she sure didn’t waste any time hooking up with his neighbor.
What the hell was she still doing in Montana, he asked himself again?
After moving a few blocks down the sidewalk and out of Brick’s knowing eyes, he jogged across the street and came to stand in front of a small craft shop. He settled against the frame near the front entrance, arms crossed and waited.
When he’d been talking to Brick, out of the corner of his eye he had seen Danielle enter the store. Ten minutes later, she came through the front door. He observed her unnoticed as she talked and laughed on her cellphone.
Her heavy jacket was partially open showing a light green blouse and a hint of cleavage. She’d removed her hat, which she now held in the other hand. Lovely wave of dark curls flowed across her shoulders, gleaming and sleek, but flipped at the layers. He knew how thick they were, how soft, and his hand itched to wrap the strands around his fist.
“Hey. Stop running.” A mother yelled at the small child flying past him at a ‘catch-me- if-you-can’ speed.
At that moment, Danielle stopped talking into the phone, slid it in her jacket pocket, and smiled at the harried mother, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him.
“Brody,” she said sharply.
He stepped toward Danielle. Her body tightened; seeing it made his jaw set. When he was within touching distance, she tipped her head back to look at him, her gorgeous face filled with disapproval but also something else he couldn’t determine—And then he saw it. Fear. What was she afraid of?
“I need to talk to you.”
“Why?” She blinked, the fear immediately disappeared, being replaced with caution and confusion.
Then he placed his hand on her arm. Her body jerked and the emotions running across her face cleared, shifting to anger. He’d seen that look on her face before but he wouldn’t let it deter his purpose to help her see he was a changed man—that they belonged together.
When Ashton had showed up at his door a couple of days ago, he was in no shape to receive company. But after many cups of strong black coffee and his best friend berating and irritating the hell out of him, he came to his senses. He wanted Danielle and damn if he wasn’t going to fight for her.
Brody leaned into her, took the hat from her hand and pulled it down on her head.
“It’s cold out here.” He took her hand and didn’t let it go when she tried to jerk it from his. Yes, she was pissed. Good. At least he got some reaction from her.
“We don’t have anything to say to each other.”
“I think we do,” he said and held her firmly.
“Why now, Brody?”
“The time is right.”
“Just please let it go.”
“Ask me to do something else because I can’t let you go.”
He felt pathetic but he didn’t care.
“Are you stalking me?” she asked.
“Why are you are still in Missoula?” he counteracted.
“Do you own Missoula?” she uttered.
He remained silent.
“I didn’t think so.” She sighed. “Look, I’m staying in town for a few days. I needed a break before my next assignment and Missoula is as good as any place to rest. I find it quaint and inviting.”
“You couldn’t rest in Dallas?”
“What’s your point?”
“You sure it’s not Brick Horne you find inviting?”
Her frown was deep. “You keeping tabs on me? Brick and I are none of your business.”
“Danielle—”
“None of your business, Brody,” she stressed.
She was right. But didn’t stop him from caring, loving, and needing her.
“Okay, it’s inevitable we’ll continue to run into each other. That’s something that can’t be helped. Our best friends are married and we are godparents to their sons. However, we need to learn to be cordial and keep it moving,” she said.
Roughly, he reminded her, “We have fucked and made love to each other. Nothin
g will ever be cordial between us.”
He was hoping to shock her with the words, but she didn’t blink.
Thinking about the roughness and tenderness of the times they were in bed together, made him hard as hell, but he ignored it.
Their first time had been a battle, one he was determined to win, and did. When she came to him the second time, it was war and he lost—his heart, mind and soul to her.
He saw color hit her caramel cheeks and then anger. She opened her mouth to speak, but he kept going. “We need to work this shit out. No damn way I’m going to let you forget, certainly not in Brick’s arms or his bed.”
“You are disgusting and ridiculous.”
“That may be, but I’m not going to apologize.”
She began walking down the street. He fell into step beside her.
“Of course, you’re not. It’s totally beneath you.” She spared him an angry glance but kept moving. “It’s over between us.”
“No, it’s not.”
Frustrated, she shook her head, stopped and stared at him incredulously. “It is.”
She opened the door to Marlene’s Lingerie Boutique and stepped over the threshold. He stopped. “There is nothing in here for you, Brody,” she said merrily, with a snide smile lifting the corners of her lips.
She waved her fingers at him and moved to close the door in his face but he held it back from shutting all the way. Did she really think he wouldn’t enter the shop? Did she think this would deter him? No way. He took a deep breath before walking in behind her.
Women stopped chatting long enough to glance his way. Some nudged others to look, there were some giggles but basically they stared without shame. Maybe ogled would be a more appropriate word.
He ignored them and Danielle ignored him.
She strolled through the store looking at lacy tops, see-through briefs with tiny bows on each side, bedroom stiletto heels, which he thought were sexy as hell, and everything else that caught her fancy. He was the lone male in the store. Strangely, he didn’t feel uncomfortable although it was the first time he’d entered such an establishment. Jewelry stores and Couture houses were the norm with the women he dated. He never bought lingerie for a woman. It spoke volumes he didn’t want to convey.