“Ah, better now, hmm, Angel? Can I tempt you into some cold breakfast?” With that accent, he even made cold bacon sound appetizing.
“How do you always seem to know what I’m thinking?” He did. She looked up at him, and she was relieved to see he was regarding her seriously.
“It’s an out there story, Angel. Are you sure you really want me to answer that?” Zac’s eyes looked bronze. His expression was intent, and for just a moment she reconsidered her question, but then he smiled. “My mum always said I had a way about me. She was the vet in our village. I could always get the animals to respond to me. She actually found that when an animal was hurt, I could calm and soothe it.” He gave a long pause.
“So, it’s not that I know what you’re thinking exactly, but I know what you’re feeling, and from there I can usually ferret out the cause.”
“So you don’t believe in magical powers like ESP or anything?” She loved how soft his chest hair was, and she nuzzled it on the way to the warmth of his skin.
“I do believe there is more to this universe that we have yet to comprehend, but no, I don’t believe I have magical powers, Angel.” She felt a tightness in her chest relax. “But love, tell me a bit about this tattoo. It is spiritual, isn’t it?” She felt him trace the design that wrapped around her hip. “Isn’t that believing in something outside of yourself, of believing in something that can’t be seen, or heard or touched?” She could feel the exact path that his finger followed, every curve and swirl of the symbolism of nurturing, life, and hope that she had worked with the tattoo artist to fashion exactly as she had pictured in her mind’s eye.
“You have connections with people, with children, with animals, that are inexplicable, right?”
“Yes,” Brianna answered slowly. She listened, really listened. He wasn’t saying anything scary.
“It’s just a form of empathy, Angel. You are one of the most sensitive people I have ever met. I’ve seen you with your family, and you caught all the nuances in the conversations, and tried to soothe everyone. But it was the way you were able to feel Beauty’s emotions, really settle her when she was so scared and hurting. Very few people have that gift, Brianna. It’s not a magical power. It’s occasionally something someone is born with, but more often, it is a skill learned at an early age to survive.” His words drifted softly into her mind like the fluff of a dandelion. Long minutes went by as he just continued to caress the design, from the top of her mound, around her hip, to just above the crease of her buttocks.
“Zac?”
“Yes, Angel?”
“It was the second thing you said. I had to always be aware of what mood my father was in, even before he knew what mood he was in.” Zac’s fingers never hesitated, they just continued to stroke and calm her.
“Can you tell me what happened if you didn’t judge his mood correctly?” His lips began to follow the path of his fingers, causing her to shiver. His question brought up so many bad memories, but at the same time his lips stripped away her ability to think too deeply. Somehow everything he was doing helped her to stay in the here and now. “Angel?”
“Zac, it was like a flip was switched.” That sounded wrong. She started to move, but he just adjusted his hands, holding her.
“It’s okay, Angel, I understood. It was maybe like he was two different people?”
Brianna let out a deep breath. “Exactly. Zac, it all gets so confused when I try to explain it. It was such a mess when I lived it, it gets even worse trying to describe it.” She didn’t want to ruin this. He made her feel so good.
“How old were you?”
“It was always that way.” She let out another deep breath, but it was because his tongue was tracing the path of one of the limbs of the tree that wound around the top of her hip to her belly button.
“When was the first time you remembered your dad’s moods, Angel?”
“I like that you call me Angel.” Brianna heard her voice come out childlike and she understood why. “It was just after my third birthday, because it was the fourth of July. I was holding a sparkler. Bright spits of fire were coming off the stick, and I was holding it up high over my head, and above that I saw this huge man looking down at me with wild eyes, pointing his finger, calling me a demon. That was my Dad. It was my very first memory.”
For the first time in long minutes, Zac’s fingers drifted away from the inked pattern on her flesh, and his hand came to rest over her heart. She could feel the heat and strength that he offered as well as the steady beat of her heart. She had never told that story and been so calm before.
“Can you tell me more, Brianna?”
“He was mentally ill. He was sure that I was possessed by a demon. I remember when he sawed off my hair because red hair was the mark of the devil.” She felt his fingers press in just a little, as if he wanted to clench them, but then they were back to resting softly against her breastbone.
“How old were you, love?” He rubbed his beard against her tummy and she couldn’t help but rub in counterpoint.
“Hmmm?”
“How old were you?”
She never talked about this. He was soothing. No wonder all the animals loved him. “I was probably five. It was the summer before kindergarten.”
“What did your mother do?” Her mother? Another face burst across her consciousness. It was a visage so much more deceptive, so much more feared and hated.
“She held me down, while he used that big knife to chop away at my hair.” Brianna stopped moving. She could no longer feel Zac’s comforting touch. She was back in time, remembering a madman and an angry woman who was telling her to shut up and hold still.
* * * *
“Can you come back to me, Angel?” Zac was careful to keep his voice and touch light.
“I’m here, Zac. I never left.” Her voice was tired and drained. He closed his eyes in relief. She was with him. He knew that sometimes victims would not consciously be aware of reliving their trauma. The fact that she was, was brilliant.
“I love you, Brianna.”
“I thought my name was Angel.” Her voice was soft and husky, but it held just the slightest glimmer of humor that went to his heart and his cock in equal measure.
“You’re always going to be my Angel. But I didn’t want there to be any sort of confusion when I decided to lay my heart at your feet.” This time she gave a real laugh, and once again he felt it go to both organs, his head and his heart.
“I suppose that’s a good thing, Carmichael, because after just five weeks, I find that I think I’m in love with you, too, which is wrong, because I think I might love Charlie,” she wailed. He felt her press her forehead into his shoulder, and then he felt wet, rapid, panicked breaths against his neck.
“Shhhh, it’s going to be all right.” He smoothed his hand down the graceful line of her spine, again and again. This was so much more than just him and Charlie, or even the revelations of the horrific childhood that she had just told him about. There was more, he knew it for a certainty. It was obvious she was scared as hell, and that she was trying to protect the people she loved.
But what was going to help her to realize that she was loved no matter what, and that she didn’t have to worry about protecting the very people who wanted to protect her? He was going to have to think about this for a while. He wanted to spend the next solid month in bed with this woman, but as soon as he was out of her arms, he needed to call his mum and tell her how much he loved her, and how lucky he had been to have had such a wonderful childhood.
* * * *
He looked up to see Sam walking into his office. For God’s sake, there was not one damn thing in this town that was personal and private. He was fucking moving! Sam Booth strolled past his desk to the credenza, and poured himself a cup of coffee before going back to sit in the chair across from him. Sam didn’t say anything, just blew on his coffee and smiled at him, trying to out-cop him with fucking social worker tricks. Well it wouldn’t work. Charlie looked b
ack at his computer screen and tried to focus on the month-end budget reports. He hated working on budget reports. Hated it.
“What the hell is your problem, Booth?” Sam just smiled at him. “I’m serious, if you won’t do me the courtesy of answering my question, then you can get the hell out of my office.”
“I went over to my folks’ house today to help Butch with that monstrosity he calls a car. I heard a funny story. Thought I’d come over here and see how things are working out.” Charlie had to give it to the man, he sat over there as calm as you pleased. Sitting like he had every right in the world to ask personal questions. Well, two could play this game.
“Things are working out just fine.” Charlie turned his chair around and poured himself a refill. He needed it. He really hadn’t gotten much sleep. He smiled as he looked out his window, remembering why he hadn’t gotten much sleep.
“God damn it!” He looked down at the brown liquid that now adorned the credenza, carpet, and knee of his uniform. The only saving grace is that he didn’t hear any laughter behind him. After he had the mess mopped up, he turned to sit back at his desk, and Sam was still sitting there with the same bland expression on his face.
“So cut the shit. Why are you here, Sam? Are you really worried that I’m going to end up hurting your baby sister?” Charlie liked the way that Sam continued to meet his eye and give him a genuine smile.
“Charlie, if I thought you were the type of guy who would intentionally hurt Brianna, do you really think I would be sitting here drinking your coffee?” Marine. How could he have forgotten? Sam had been a marine in Afghanistan. Damn, he really was off his game today. Charlie tipped his chair back and rubbed the back of his neck.
“No,” Charlie said. “I don’t think so, Sam. I think we’d be meeting up while I was out on patrol on Highway 521 some night.” Sam’s eyes glinted in agreement. “So why’d you stop by here, and not Brianna’s?”
“Zac’s truck is still over at the apartment. Anyway, knowing Brianna, she’s still on the fence as to whether she’s going to leave or not. I don’t want to do anything to spook her.”
“Fuck, that’s my assessment, too.” Charlie pulled open the top drawer and pawed through it until he found the small bottle of ibuprofen. He pried it open, poured out two, and then tipped out a third pill. He looked for a bottle of water, but he’d finished it earlier that morning, so he swallowed them with his coffee, trying not to make a disgusted face in front of Sam. As soon as the pills and coffee were down, he wondered if the heartburn was going to be worse than the stress headache.
“Sam, can you give me a clue as to what I’m—” He looked down at the papers on his desk, and then back up at the man seated across from him. “Can you tell me what we—Zac and I—are up against? We’re in the dark here, man.”
“If Brianna isn’t willing to share this with you, then you never had a chance from the start, Charlie.” He could see nothing but compassion in the green eyes watching him.
“Then why the hell are you here?” Charlie dialed it back at the last minute, but he really felt like growling.
“I’m here because I’ve known you for a few years now, Meade. I like you. What’s more, after working with you earlier in the year on the Hamilton case, I was impressed. But you really stepped up on the deal with the Isabella situation. Not everyone realizes you put your job on the line, but I did, and I admired the hell out of that.” He just stared, knowing that Sam would eventually get to his point after he beat around the bush a little bit more, in his social worker way.
“Charlie, I’m here because I have a question for you. Just how invested are you? Because if you are just on the fence, I’m saying now would be a good time to back the hell off.” Was this man out of his mind?
“Are you out of your mind? I might have grown up here, but I never thought I would end up in a triad, Sam. I like Zac and all, but he’s not someone I grew up with, he’s not one of my really good friends. But I’m getting into a relationship with more than just Brianna. I’m getting into one with him, because of how much I care about her.”
“And that’s another thing, Charlie. That’s not a good thing. If you’re feeling coerced into doing something you’re not comfortable with, this won’t work.”
“You know, I can’t win for losing with you, can I, Sam?” Charlie slammed away from his desk and stood up. He pressed his palms down onto the smooth, wood surface and stared at Sam Booth, who was still sitting there so calmly. “I’m in this. I don’t know what it is about Brianna, but I can’t get that woman out of my head, and she has wormed her way into my heart. I’m halfway in love with her, and I’ve only known her for five weeks. The last time I fell in love it took me two years to say that to a woman. What the fuck is that? If you want to get all psychobabble on me, don’t be questioning my intentions, explain to me what it is about her that draws me like a moth to a flame. Then, while you’re at it, tell me what the fuck I can do to make sure I can superglue her ass to this town.”
Sam unfolded his frame from the chair and set his cup of coffee on the desk between Charlie’s spread hands.
“Thanks for the caffeine. Josie said to tell you that the cinnamon rolls will be on the house if you stop by the bakery.”
“That’s it, you’re leaving? You grill me, but when I ask for some advice about how to deal with your sister, you leave?” Great, the headache was in full force, and he was getting heartburn.
“Yep, that sums it up. You’re not getting any advice. I will give you encouragement. I think you’re going about this the right way.”
“Fat lot of help you’ve been.”
“Ah, but I didn’t come here to help you, Charlie,” Sam said as he made his way toward the door. Charlie felt all of his frustration disappear as he realized that Sam was right. The important person in this equation was Brianna.
“Booth!”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being there for her. She seems so alone.”
“She isn’t, she just thinks she is. Maybe you and Zac can finally get her to see that.” Charlie sat back down and knew it was going to be a long day as he tried to concentrate on the county budgets.
Chapter 17
“Brianna, we are not breaking up!” The pounding on the door made her drop the colander into the sink. She crossed the small area between the kitchen and living room to yank open the front door of the apartment. There were Charlie and Zac on the porch. Charlie looked pissed as hell, and Zac was behind him, holding a bouquet of stargazer lilies and a bottle of wine.
Both of them looked delicious. Charlie was still in his khaki Sheriff’s uniform, but Zac was wearing jeans, a white dress shirt, and a suit coat. She felt her nipples bead and her pussy moisten at all the masculine beauty pressed together on the tiny landing of the apartment.
“What the hell kind of text was that?”
“For God’s sake, Charlie, what in the hell are you talking about?” She peered around them, and even though the stairs were on the side of the building, it was still light out, and the last thing Charlie needed was having his constituents seeing him yelling on her porch stoop. She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. Zac followed and winked.
“You look gorgeous, Angel.” Brianna blushed. She had gone shopping and was wearing a hot pink short skirt and white silk blouse. It was great that one of the men was appreciative.
“The text that said, ‘we need to talk, come to my place at six, no need to go out.’ I told you I wanted to take you out tonight, but instead you’re saying we need to talk and we’re not going out. Well, don’t think we’re going to end things that easily.” Charlie was in full roar. Brianna was surprised that she wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated. She used to flinch at the slightest change in her father’s tone of voice, always wondering what next horror was awaiting her. Then she realized that was the difference. With Charlie, what you saw was what you got. She never had to be afraid of his moods, because he was totally upfront. Out of the corner of her eye she
saw that Zac was putting the flowers in water and rinsing the lettuce for the salad. He had correctly interpreted the text message.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” He reminded her of her brothers when they had been young and stupid and full of testosterone. If she wasn’t so determined to actually have a date and spend some time talking, she’d jump the man and rip his uniform off with her teeth. After she punched him in the nose. But knowing what she wanted for the evening, she decided on an entirely different course of action. She stepped toward the raging and hurting beast and hugged him.
Charlie just stood there, his arms out like he didn’t know what to do with them. Brianna snuggled her cheek against his chest and finally he wrapped his arms around her.
“I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t, and I’m sorry.” She just stayed where she was, breathing in the scent of him. Even the thick polyester couldn’t mask the heat and comfort of Charlie Meade. “Charlie, we do need to talk. This whole triad thing is…is…well, I still haven’t processed it, and I didn’t know if you two had. I was hoping we could maybe all talk about it together.”
“Oh…well, okay, baby, that makes sense.” He hugged her tighter, and she felt him place a kiss on the top of her head. “But what about ‘No need to go out.’ You made it sound like you were brushing us off in private.”
“She was making us dinner, Charlie.” She felt Charlie turn, but he kept her firmly ensconced against his chest. A big hand stroked down her hair, and then he cupped her chin and tilted it up so that she was looking into eyes so dark, they looked almost navy blue.
“Is that true, Brianna? You were inviting us over for dinner?” She’d been right to hug him, because for all his bluster there was a hint of insecurity. She reached up and cupped his cheek, liking the feel of his red and gold stubble. “I figured Zac was just trying to butter you up with the flowers and shit.”
Cherishing Brianna [Fate Harbor 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 16