Built for Pleasure

by Sarah J. Brooks

  Eventually, Colt sank onto his side, pulling me against him and moving my damp hair away from my face. “You didn’t keep your promise, you know,” he whispered.

  I looked up at him, seeing the hurt in his eyes. “Promise?”

  “You swore to never run away, to not ever leave me again.”

  I looked away. “I know, you’re right, I didn’t.”

  His big hand pulled my head toward his chest. It was a gesture of forgiveness.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that… with everything that’s happened, I’ve been so scared. Carrie and all… I didn’t know who to trust. I couldn’t trust myself anymore—I’d let myself down more than once. So, I ran and hid, just like a child.”

  He stroked the back of my head.

  “Colt?”

  “I’m right here.”

  “I think I know what’s going on. Or rather, who’s behind all that went on. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me earlier, but I didn’t know he was around.”

  “Who?”

  “His name is Paul.”

  “Carrie’s father,” he said quietly.

  “You knew?”

  I felt him nod. “I knew. What makes you think it was him?”

  “Just a while ago, Patsy and I were talking, and I found out he’s not in the Army anymore. I think he’s been doing the stuff that scared me. I don’t know about the apartment, but the newspaper envelope, the phone calls, heck, I don’t know what all. He was a little strange in the head, Colt. I didn’t see it until it was too late. It might have been the reason they let him out of the Army. He targets me, not Carrie. I think he’s been watching me.”

  Colt stiffened at the same moment the words left my mouth. He pushed me away and rolled over me to his feet. I looked at him in amazement. He turned and said one word that drove a torch of terror through me that was so blinding, I thought I would die. “Carrie!”

  Colt was already out of the bedroom, pounding down the stairs. “The park!” he shouted back at me. “Where is it?”

  I was already pulling on my clothes, running after him down the stairs. “I’m coming with you.”

  We made it as far as the front door when it opened and there stood Patsy with Carrie. She took one look at our disarray and asked, “Should I come back?”

  “No!” Colt barked, pulling the two of them into the house and shutting the door. He took Carrie and handed her to me but faced Patsy. “Did you see Paul, Carrie’s father, while you were out?”

  Patsy’s face filled with alarm at his tone. “It’s okay, Patsy, tell him everything,” I urged her.

  She nodded. “Well, yes. I did. He was sitting in his car at the end of the block, watching Carrie and me. We were across the street from him. I was pushing her in the stroller to the park.”

  “Oh, my God,” came from my mouth.

  Colt whipped around. “No. You will not be scared anymore. Not as long as I’m here. Go upstairs and pack your things and Carrie’s. You’re going home with me.”

  I took one look at his face and nodded, handing Carrie back to Patsy and turning to run up the staircase as fast as I could.

  I heard them talking as I scurried from closet to closet. Colt asked, “Patsy, I’m sorry, but can you go home? If not, you can come with us, but I can’t leave these two alone anymore. I think he’s behind this and they’re not safe—well, at least not Gwen.”

  “No, no, I can go home right now,” Patsy answered. “Take care of them. Let me just get my things.”

  Chapter 27

  Coulter

  I watched her walk down the aisle between the rows of white chairs toward me. I was holding my breath, afraid she’d have a last-minute change of heart and bolt off into the woods.

  She didn’t. She continued toward me, taking the wedding march strides with her long, stunning legs. I had to look away to control myself from growing erect in front of the entire assemblage.

  I held out my hand to her and as Carrie, in her tiny white patent leather shoes threw another clump of rose petals onto the ground, Gwen’s stunning eyes looked into mine. I saw love, I saw need, I saw—best of all, trust. A few words later and we were man and wife. I kissed her in front of the world and it felt like a chain that would bind us the way we were meant to be from the beginning.

  As the guests applauded, I bent to pick up Carrie and held her as I put my arm around Gwen. Facing everyone I spoke out loudly. “Thank you all for being here today to share this with us. Today I have the wife I’ve always wanted, and I hope to share my name with Carrie as well.”

  The applause doubled, then faded suddenly as a figure emerged from the stand of trees at the edge of the seating. “I might just have something to say about that,” called out a man with a rough beard, a bottle of liquor in his hand and a holstered gun evident across his chest.

  I heard Gwen gasp. “Paul!”

  “Having a little trouble there, Gwen? Wonder why you never heard my voice at the other end of those phone calls? Did you think pretty boy there dirtied your pretties in that shabby apartment? Did he save all the newspapers—the clippings of you in your cheerleading get-up, flipping around on the football field? Well?”

  I said in a low, but very distinct voice, “Gwen, take Carrie and stand behind me. He won’t fire if he thinks he’d hit her.” I motioned to Buddy who was my best man. “Get her out of here, now!”

  I stood my ground, center stage as Buddy flagged a few men and suddenly Gwen and Carrie were herded into their protective circle and moved backward, into the house.

  “You want me, Romano? Come get me,” I challenged him, walking down the wedding aisle toward him.

  “You? Hell, no! I don’t want you! I want her!” Romano pulled the gun and fired it into the air, waving the bottle with his left hand. I took advantage of the moment and charged him, knocking him to the ground and batting away the gun. It was only moments before my men were on us, pulling me off. I wanted to kill him there, while God was still watching.

  “Get him off the property!” I ordered. “Keep the gun.”

  Paul was dragged to the road and when they let go of his arms, he brushed himself off in disgust and disappeared briefly into the pines, emerging aboard a motorcycle. He spun out as powered it off the estate, nearly flipping it.

  I brushed myself off, apologized to our guests and signaled the small orchestra nearby to begin playing. Waiters appeared with trays of champagne flutes and I headed up the middle to get my bride—my family.

  Chapter 28

  Gwen

  It all happened in slow motion, or at least that’s how it appeared to me. I peeked through the sheers over the window and watched as Colt wrestled Paul to the ground, and then shortly thereafter, Paul sped off on his motorcycle.

  Then my husband came for me. He lifted me off my feet and kissed me. A cheer went up around us from the men who’d been protecting Carrie and me. Colt, with me still in his arms, walked out onto the porch and a second cheer went up. He turned and as tradition dictated, carried me over the threshold.

  Finally, it was as it should be. Finally, I could rest.

  The reception roared into reality and people forgot the unpleasantness from earlier. Banquet tables, laden with the finest foods were gathering spots as people milled around, talking and laughing. Colt had buses lined up to drive everyone home later, so drinking was the sport of the afternoon. I changed my clothes and Colt and I danced and celebrated with the entire town. Patsy had Carrie by the hand as they wandered the grounds, amidst peacocks, fountains, and clusters of white chairs where the celebrants feasted and drank.

  Despite the shaking that still coursed through me, I leaned into my husband and knew unjudging love.

  Then came the sheriff’s car, through the gates and slowly in our direction. He climbed out and came toward us. Colt gave me a quick hug of reassurance and turned to face the sheriff.

  “You look like you’re here on business,” Colt greeted him.

  “’Fraid so. I believe you had an incid
ent here earlier this afternoon.”

  Colt nodded. “You could call it that. What’s wrong, Sheriff?”

  “We just peeled Paul Romano off a tree about a mile east of here. Found his bike a good hundred yards further down, in the brush. You know anything about this?”

  Colt froze. He slowly turned to me and there was doubt in his brilliant blue eyes as he searched my face.

  I threw my arms around his neck, kissed him on the cheek and then stood at his side, taking his hand in mine. “You’ve got yourself the wrong people, Sheriff. No one here has left and no one here would go after Paul Romano. He’s not worth it.”

  Colt squeezed my hand and the sheriff nodded. “Didn’t think so,” he said. “Congratulations to you two,” he added and walked back to his car.

  “Gwennie?” whispered Colt in my ear.

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Mr. Stillman.”

  Epilogue

  “Now Gwen, I don’t want you to push this time, you hear me?”

  “What do you mean?” I gasped. “You’ve been telling me to push for the last half hour. You’d better get ready to catch!”

  Dr. Welter looked up over my stirrup-locked legs at Colt and grinned. “Does she always argue like this?”

  “She sure does,” I heard Colt respond just as the next wave of pain rolled through my body.

  Two minutes later, Colt was holding his son. “He’s a Stillman, alright,” he judged, looking at the baby’s squirming body and then at me. “Want to know how I can tell?”

  That’s when Coulter Stillman, Jr. let out a loud, shrill bellow. With triumphant sweat rolling off my face I answered, “He’s also got your bossiness?”

  THE END

  Four Reasons to Come

  Chapter 1

  “I’m fine Willow, the taxi just turned down my street.”

  “I’ll just stay on until you get inside the house.”

  “Seriously Willow, I’m not going to get murdered in two blocks. It’s Bain, Missouri for gosh sake!”

  My ability to humor Willow and her mothering significantly decreased the tireder I was. We had been friends for most of our life, but she still didn’t think I was capable of taking care of myself. When I had a few guys living with me, she tended to calm down a little with her worry, but lately I’d been on my own, and that was causing a lot of tension. Of course, Stanley was still nearby, though, he’d decided to move in down the street and not with me, though. He was trying to find a wife, which wasn’t at all what I was looking for in life.

  “Are you at the house yet? Did you get inside?”

  “I’m paying my taxi driver now,” I said and then walked up to the door to my house and looked for my keys. Unfortunately, I had forgotten them inside the house.

  Nothing to worry about, though. I had a spare key, somewhere. If only I could remember where I had put it.

  “Walking up to the door … unlocking the door … going inside,” I lied to her.

  Willow was the kind of friend that would leave her house in the middle of the night and come help me look for my key. As much as I loved that about her, I didn’t want to ruin her night or pull her away from her family. A small little lie to ensure she could get to sleep that night wasn’t that big of a deal.

  “Alright. Remember to take some Tylenol and drink some water. Do you have orange juice for the morning?”

  Since losing my parents, Willow had tried to fill in the emptiness. Her heart was always in the right spot, but she never understood what it was like to be without any family. Moving into my grandparents’ house and remodeling it was the best way I could cope, at least for now.

  I loved that Willow worried about me and tried to take care of me. We had a special relationship despite her not totally understanding my personal life. She just couldn’t wrap her head around my need for more than one man. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I could wrap my head around it. Maybe I’d change and find a man that I felt was all I needed? Or maybe I’d find a perfect combination of men that I wanted to keep together. I was open to what life might bring, and I really loved that Willow let me have my alternative life without always judging me. Instead, she concentrated on loving me; which was exactly what I needed.

  “Yes, I will drink orange juice, take two pills, and call you in the morning.” I laughed excessively because of the large amount of alcohol in my system.

  “Great, yes. Call me when you get up,” Willow said.

  “OK Mother Willow. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  With Willow off the phone, I went to work looking for where I had put the spare key. I remembered putting a spare somewhere around when I had visited my parents and my mother was too sick to get up to the door. But after she died, I moved the key again. I moved it to a spot that I remember thinking was easier to find, yet in my inebriated state, I had no idea where that spot might be.

  Really it shouldn’t be all that hard to find a key, but when you forgot things as fast as I did; you would understand. This key was going to be near impossible to find. My mind felt a little mushy as I started moving around the front porch in search of the darn key.

  After searching the mat, flowers, and all the rocks around my grandparents’ old Victorian home, it finally dawned on me that I had put the key over in the neighbors’ rocks. The fake rock that held the spare key fit perfectly with their rocks, and since the home had been empty for at least five years, it seemed like a good place to hide the house key.

  Now if only I could remember which rock I was looking for. At two o’clock in the morning, it was amazing how every single rock looked exactly the same. I knew the general area of the key, though, and got to work trying to find the fake rock.

  I was crawling around on my knees in the wet grass and looking for the house key to my dead parents’ home. Well, the house was actually my grandparents’ home, then they passed it to my parents, and then to me. On my hands and knees in the grass was not how I wanted to be spending my Saturday night.

  Why couldn’t I just have a normal life? Like those girls at the bar tonight. The kind of busy life with friends and parties all the time. But no, I had by far the most boring life in the history of Bain. Except for my sex life, of course.

  Fixing up my grandparents’ house was the only thing interesting on my calendar for the next three weeks. Oh, how I longed for some excitement. Maybe a man or two to warm my bed and please me? But there were no prospects on the horizon. Even Stanley wasn’t coming over to visit as much as he used to.

  The rock that held my house key was an enigma, it certainly wasn’t about to make finding it very easy. I screamed out in frustration and threw a rock from the neighbor’s yard to my own.

  “Can I help you?” a man’s voice said from somewhere in the dark.

  My breath caught in utter excitement as I looked up to see a staggeringly muscular built man standing at the corner of the house. He looked to have been just woken up and stood there with sweatpants and no shirt.

  The no shirt part was what had me so distracted. Even in the moonlight, I could see more muscles in his stomach than I probably had in my entire body. His arms bulged with definition, and my body soaked with a desire for him that was so unexpected I instantly clenched my legs together out of fear I’d start dripping down my leg.

  “Um. Well, I uh … I’m looking for my house key.”

  “And you keep it in my flower bed?”

  The way he stood there looking at me it was like I amused him. He watched as I struggled to stand up and then fidgeted with my dress. As much as I tried to hide the level of my intoxication, I’m pretty sure there was no hiding it. The look on his face showed enough sympathy toward me that I knew he could tell I was drunk.

  “I’m uh, yes I did hide it here. It’s a rock. Well, it looks like a rock. It’s a fake rock with a key in it. But I can’t find it because they all look the same. It was a good idea to buy the fake rock, but it has made it surprisingly hard to actually figure out wh
ich rock it is,” I babbled on and on. “I know, I know. I probably should have thought of a better plan, but here we are. I have a key in here somewhere, and I’m locked out, so I need to find this fake rock.”

  I watched as the mystery man walked closer to me and looked at the rocks surrounding the house. His gaze was powerful, just like him, and I instantly thought about how fun this guy would be in bed.

  He was probably a dominant type. Maybe he liked to tie his girls up? Or perhaps he preferred all night sex that turned into sweating sessions of love? Mmm, my mind went blank as I decided right then and there that I really wanted to have this man in my bed.

  “What’s your name,” he asked me.

  “I’m Isabella. Isabella Peterson.”

  I waited for him to respond with his name, but he did not. Instead, he reached down and grabbed a rock from the back of the pile of rocks. He handed it to me and I instantly knew that it was the rock I had been looking for. It was light, and I could hear the jingle of the key as I moved the rock in my hand.

  “There you go, Isabella.”

  His voice was smooth, seductive, and sexy, which was hard to pair up with the body that stood in front of me. The man in front of me looked more like a killer than a seducer. The muscles in his arms bulged with definition. Not bulk, but a refined sense of power. Even the way he clenched his jaw made me think of someone who was hiding something and wasn’t going to let you find out.