Built for Pleasure

by Sarah J. Brooks

  The kids were excited, but wary, as they’d grieved the death of both of their parents and suddenly one returns to them—it was going to take much more than an afternoon to understand the enormity of their feelings.

  There was no way I wanted to complicate that by being the woman who was bearing a sibling with the father who’d only just returned. I was introduced as a close friend of Dash and the one who convinced him to rejoin his family. At that moment, I was being regarded by all as a hero, and yet all I felt was that I was an intruder.

  We were served a lovely lunch and I could tell Dash was looking forward to some private time with his children who wanted to show him their rooms, their treasures and their accomplishments after having warmed up to the idea of having their father back.

  I knew Dash would insist on taking me home, so I excused myself to the restroom. I could barely see through my tears, which were at that moment very genuine as I wrote my goodbye letter.

  I set the letter on the dining room table and quietly called an Uber to pick me up. The security guard who answered the door saw me. I gave him a smile and thanked him for taking care of the family, acting like my leaving was no big deal.

  When the Uber driver came, my heart was splintered. I felt happy I made it out of the house without being detected or having to have an awkward moment in front of Dash’s family and yet, I was also sad I was leaving as this most likely was my final goodbye.

  Dash could do some sleuthing to find me, but I hoped he wouldn’t; he needed his life back and I wanted him to focus on that. I was just a complication at best. I knew Mountain Man Dash and most likely he’d never be that man again. So, when I got home to my comfortable apartment, I felt like I’d closed the binding on a short but life-altering book.

  Now, it was time to write my own story as a single mother. Dash had left me plenty of money and I planned to continue working. I practiced saying, “Things just didn’t work out with the baby’s father…” and tucked myself in to binge-watch something on Netflix. This was going to be my new normal; missing a man I barely knew, while preparing to parent his child alone.

  I wished I could say I didn’t think of him every minute of the day, but he didn’t call so I pat myself on the back for being right about him. He had his family back. He didn’t need me, our child, or anything else.

  It was sad, but at times reality is sad. I was a big girl, I told myself I could handle it… and I could, but I didn’t want to. After six episodes of This is Us, there was a knock at the door. It was a little past eight o’clock in the evening and my heart started to race.

  Could it be Dash? It was unlikely; he’d be still swept up with his family. Was it one of the drug cartel coming to kill me? I truly hoped not. Most likely it was the neighbor giving me a piece of mail they’d got by mistake. We must’ve had a very loopy new mailman, or my neighbor was lonely. Either way, I dreaded answering the door, but I dragged myself to do it because there was a tiny, remote chance it was Dash.

  When I opened the door, my heart fell. It was a delivery man. I did think it was weird for him to be delivering so late.

  “Hi, are you Imogen Grant?” he asked in a kind voice.

  “Yes,” I said, skeptical and trying hard not to get my hopes up. I was already so close to an emotional breakdown, it was hard holding my head together.

  “I have these for you,” he said, ducking away from the door to bring an enormous bouquet of flowers up off the ground. The flowers were as tall as he was.

  He handed them to me and I put them on the table next to the door. “Can I have you sign this please?” he asked as he produced a well-worn clipboard with a pen hanging on a string made of knotted rubber bands.

  I signed it, numb and dazed, he thanked me and left. I closed the door and just stared at the bouquet before I had the courage to open the attached note. When I finally did open the note, it said:

  “Come back, Imogen. The castle is too big to live in without you and our child. Don’t run away from this, we already know how badly that turns out. I need a zombie slaying princess who is a great psychologist and will be a great mother. Get your ass over here!

  - All my love Dashell”

  Epilogue

  Dash

  Imogen did eventually come back to the estate. I gave her a few months to get to know me and the family better, and she finally agreed to live with us here. It was a risk jumping into a new relationship so quickly, but in my heart, I knew she was the one from the moment I rescued her from the ditch.

  We decided to start again, this time properly, which meant I had to call her Jeni around her work friends, but I was given permission to call her Imogen at home. It was all about compromises. We decided she would continue her work as would I, even after our baby was born and I appreciated her being a child psychologist because she was amazing with DJ and Ally and helped them embrace all the changes in their lives with beauty and grace.

  We discovered that we were having a son, which I was thrilled about and couldn’t wait to meet. At our intimate gender reveal party, which was just with Gloria and her boyfriend, Lydia and Imogen’s feisty Gramps, the kids and ourselves, Imogen opened a box full of blue balloons that filled the air around us.

  We were very busy planning a baby shower, but I did go to the authorities and while it took time to catch him, Mark was eventually charged with fraud, and manufacturing and trading of illegal street drugs, and was sentenced to prison with the heads of the Minneapolis drug cartel. The minute I saw Mark in an orange suit being carted off to his jail cell, a thousand-pound weight was lifted from my shoulders. Finally, I could live again. Apart from spending time with my growing family, living to me also meant diving into my work. I had a lot of success with the trials for my cancer drug. We were on the road to a medical solution that would, at the very least, prolong the life of some cancer patients. We hadn’t cured cancer, but we were getting closer and I vowed to make it my life’s work to find a cure.

  Imogen convinced me to open up my mountain house for all of us to use on weekends and we built a road to her grandpa’s place so that we could visit him often. His health had taken a positive turn with all the kids and bustle about him every weekend, and despite his continuously cantankerous disposition, I could tell he secretly loved having family about.

  What wasn’t a secret was how much Lydia loved it. She was always cooking something amazing for us. The person though, who was most happy next to Imogen and me, was Gloria. She had a wonderful boyfriend who had just proposed marriage and she accepted, but more than anything she was free to start her own life and family.

  There would never be enough words to express my gratitude for all she’d done for me, so, while it was only a small token of my appreciation, I built them a house, made to their specifications on the same block as ours and we were in the process of building another cabin between Gramps’ place and mine.

  Life truly couldn’t have been better. I was with the woman of my dreams, I was doing work that would help humanity and Imogen promised we’d continue to grow our family for years to come. I thanked God every day for sending an angel to rescue me.

  Jeni

  At the end of September, we gave birth to a little boy who we named Liam Michael for Gramps, whose name was Liam, and Michael for Dash’s late wife Michelle. The kids loved their baby brother and I adored being a mother.

  I knew I’d like it, but I didn’t know how much I’d love it. I found my true calling. I continued to work as a psychologist after Liam was born because I still loved my job, but I felt like I was missing so much of his life at the office, so Dash built a home office for me and I started my own practice. It was perfect; I could have lunch with the kids and see DJ and Ally after school, breastfed Liam when he needed it and plan for baby number two or actually four if we were really counting.

  After Liam came, the house was louder and crazier, but also more perfect. When Liam was a bit older, and the houses in the mountains were finished we spent our first Christmas together a
s a big family. Gramps and Lydia were there as well as Gloria, her new husband, Dash Jr., Aleksandra, and Little Liam. In order to celebrate all of their accomplishments over the last two years, Dash and I went on a mountain climbing expedition to the hill where we first met and “fell” in love.

  At the top of the mountain in the freezing cold, overlooking the world, Dash dipped down on one knee and asked me to marry him and I gleefully accepted his offer.

  “I hope we fill the halls of our home with laughter, love, and lots of little feet so that we’ll never be lonely again. Just us and all of our little zombie killers,” he said with a smile.

  Life, while it may always have its ups and downs, was pretty perfect. Every time I get stressed or worried about anything, I look at what we’ve built and I realized we can move mountains together.

  THE END

  One Night Stand

  Chapter 1

  Nina

  Inside my head, I was fuming. But outside, I was keeping that veneer carefully and pointedly controlled. Even though I wanted to toss the boxes against the door just to hear the bang, I put one foot in front of the other and promised myself that I wasn’t going to make myself look crazy in front of my new neighbors just yet. Though if they knew what I’d been through, perhaps I wouldn’t seem quite as crazy.

  I carefully balanced a box full of books on my hip, pushed open the door, and dumped it in the center of the small living room. Glancing around, I still couldn’t believe that this was where I was living now; that this was my fresh start. Away from Fred, away from all of it. My heart twisted in my chest, and I wondered if I’d made the right choice or not.

  No. I couldn’t think that way. I’d done the right thing walking away from Fred. What else could I have done? I had walked in on him balls-deep in another woman for the love of God. If I’d taken him back after that, I would never be able to respect myself again. He begged and pleaded with me, and I ignored him, packing up my stuff as swiftly as I could and putting every realtor in the city on speed-dial so I could find a new apartment. He would be stuck with the one we had once shared, with the crappy peeling paint and the mildew spreading over the corner of the bedroom wall. Seemed appropriate, that rot so obvious that we had both ignored until now, as though not focusing on it would get it to vanish.

  I had known there was something wrong with Fred for months—hell, maybe even since we had moved in together. It had been his idea to lock me down like that, but he probably only wanted it so he could guarantee that his rent was going to get paid every month for a change; he was on the brink of being booted from his old apartment for failing to deliver on time. I was the one with the job, even if it was just bussing tables in a coffee shop down the street, and that meant he could use me to wring money from and make sure that his lifestyle was upheld. If you could call sitting around smoking pot and playing video games while keeping a secret phone full of other women’s numbers a lifestyle, which he probably would.

  I’d had my suspicions for a long time, but I had put them to the back of my mind because, well, what else was there? All the time that we had been together I watched my friends get together with these amazing partners, people who valued them, laughed with them, seemed to actually love them and not care who knew it—and then there was my boyfriend, who would check out other girls right in front of me, who my friends would apologize to me for. But what else was there for me? I was hardly a catch myself, drifting through life with no career and no plans to settle down. It wasn’t like I was going to find anyone better, so I just stuck it out with Fred in the hopes that he would improve. Spoiler alert: he didn’t, and now I was two years down, moving my stuff into a new apartment and trying to scrub the memory of his pimpled ass as he fucked some woman I’d never seen before.

  Ugh. I shoved that memory to the back of my mind where it wouldn't bother me anymore and ran down to the moving van outside to grab another box. But before I made it out the front door of the building, I ran into someone. Someone I’d never seen before. Someone I knew I’d recognize if I had.

  “Hey.” I slowed my roll, even though I was paying for the moving van and knew they were getting impatient as it was.

  “Hey,” the man replied with a smile. He was a little older than me, maybe by a few years; he had deep, oak-brown hair with a slight wave to it that curled down to his ears like he hadn’t had time to get it cut in a while, and matching eyes that glinted playfully in the morning light. He was lean and strong, broad shoulders leading down to toned arms.

  “I’m Nina Harrison.” I extended my hand to him. “I just moved in upstairs. Well, actually, I’m still in the process of moving in upstairs.”

  “Logan,” he introduced himself. “So you’re the one with the moving van outside?”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” I replied. “But it’ll be out of here soon. Just a few more trips.”

  “You want a hand?” he asked, and a smile curled up on to his lips like he was suggesting something else entirely. I shrugged, pretending I didn’t hear the flirtation, playing the game.

  “I’d love that,” I replied. “Thanks.”

  He headed back outside with me and heaved one of the boxes into his arms. I was grateful for the help but even more grateful for the company—it was lonely, coming out to this part of the city all by myself, even if I was dropping some serious dead weight in the process.

  “You just moved to the city?” he asked conversationally as I fumbled with my keys. I shook my head.

  “Nope, lived here all my life,” I replied. “But this is my first time on the West side.”

  “You’ll love it,” he replied and then corrected himself. “Well, you won’t hate it. It’s not the most glamorous part of town, but it does the job.”

  “I don’t know about glamour,” I joked, gesturing to my current outfit—sweats and a tee with my hair pulled back and my face scrubbed clean, firmly in practical territory.

  He chuckled. “Hey, glamour comes in many different forms,” he pointed out, and I felt my heart flutter as I watched him trace the shape of me even through these clothes. How long had it been since I had actually let myself flirt with a guy or since I had let a guy flirt with me? When they tried it with me at the coffee shop, I would shut them down swiftly, letting them know that I had a boyfriend and that they were wasting their time pursuing me. But I didn’t have the dead weight of another half anymore, and the way this guy was looking at me …

  “Okay, let’s grab another box.” He placed the one he’d been carrying down in the center of the apartment, and I blinked, remembering suddenly what he was doing here in the first place. Maybe he really was just a good Samaritan who wanted to lend a new neighbor a hand. But I was pretty sure I hadn’t been imagining the way he looked at me just then.

  We ran up and down the stairs with various boxes and bags until I was all unpacked; I paid the moving truck driver, flinching at the amount of cash I had to hand over to him, and then headed back upstairs to begin the long, arduous process of actually unpacking. I had so much shit accumulated over the years that I didn’t know where to begin. When I arrived back at my apartment, I was surprised to see that Logan, my white knight, was still hanging around. I grinned and closed the door behind me. Anything to give me some small reason to procrastinate, right?

  “Thanks for helping me out.” I leaned up against the door and noticed the way that his hair shimmered in the light pouring through the window; there were flecks of gold buried up in there, catching the sun and making my heart flutter.

  “No problem,” he replied. “Got to make a good impression on the new neighbors, right?”

  “Well, I’ll make sure to pass this along to everyone else in the building.” I nodded, faux-seriously. “They’ll all know about your gallantry, don’t worry.”

  “Good to hear it.” He grinned, picked himself up off the counter he’d been leaning on and seemed set to head for the door. My heart looped. I didn’t want him to go yet. But I wasn’t sure how to make him stay. And the
n it hit me.

  How long had it been since I’d hooked up with anyone else? Years now? And the universe blessed me by dropping this gorgeous, sexy, helpful guy straight into my lap like it was trying to point me in one specific direction. I had never done anything like it before, but I took a step toward him, moving close enough that I could catch a whiff of his aftershave; clean and old-fashioned like freshly-washed laundry.

  “I’d offer you a coffee, but I haven’t unpacked my machine yet,” I blurted out. Was this seduction? I guessed I would just have to cut to the chase with him. I moved a little closer, shifting so that our bodies were only a few inches apart, and I prayed to all things good and pure that he wouldn’t reject me, because I didn’t think my little heart could take it right about then.

  “I guess you could make it up to me some other way,” he suggested, flashing me a wicked smile that made my knees buckle a little. My heart bounced up in my throat, and before I could stop myself, I reached up, leaned forward, and kissed him.

  As soon as our lips met, it was like someone had lit a fuse between the two of us. That was the only way I could describe it. It was so intense it made my head spin, my body burn—he hitched me up off the ground and deposited me down on the counter he’d been leaning on, and I wrapped my arms around him and hung on for dear life. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t believe how turned on I already was by his touch; he sank his fingers into my sides as though he wanted me to remember that I was his, and he moved between my legs, parting them, and grinding himself against me. I could already feel him growing hard even through the denim of his jeans, and I pushed my fingernails through that golden-tinged hair and lost myself to him.