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Brody

Page 2

by Cheryl Douglas


  His hands were distracting me, kneading my breasts, so at first I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. “Your father came to see you?” He hadn’t seen his father in more than twenty years. I’d never even met the man, though I knew how much Brody hated him. “When? Where?”

  “I was in Vegas. I had an event. He showed up after it was over. It was televised—thank God he didn’t show up while the cameras were there.”

  I’d never seen him so shaken. His muscular body was practically vibrating.

  “Listen to me,” I said, curling my hands around his face, trying to get his attention. “Sex isn’t the answer. If you want to talk about what happened tonight, about what you’re feeling, I’m here to listen. But I told you before, I’m not going to be your booty call anymore. I deserve better than that.” My body was screaming at me that I was a traitor, that I was denying my desires. I needed this. I needed him, but not as much as I valued my self-respect.

  “This isn’t about him,” he said, looking stunned that I could even suggest such a thing. “I’m here because I love you. Because I’ve been going crazy without you.”

  I love you. Those words reverberated through my head. It had been so long since I’d heard him say that. I hadn’t realized how much I missed hearing it, how much I craved it… until now.

  “You’re not thinking clearly. You—”

  “Listen to me,” he whispered fiercely, wrapping his hands around my face, “the only goddamn thing that makes sense in my screwed-up life is the way I feel about you.”

  My heart was pounding even harder now than it had been when he knocked at the door. Was he saying he wanted me back? Would I be a fool to believe that this time would be any different than all the others?

  “You,” he said, resting his forehead against mine, “are my world. You have been since the second I laid eyes on you in that stupid algebra class we both hated.”

  I smiled while my hands slipped to his shoulders. The only good thing that came of that class was meeting Brody.

  “Everything makes sense when I’m with you, Ri. Without you, I don’t even know who the hell I am anymore. I don’t know where I belong.”

  I wrapped my arms around him, my heart hurting for both of us. I knew seeing his father again after so many years couldn’t have been easy for him, and if he could find some small measure of comfort in my arms, I wanted to help him.

  He kissed me gently, deepening the kiss only when I didn’t push him away. “Please, don’t send me away. Not now. Not tonight.”

  I hated to think about what tomorrow would bring. He would likely be back out on the road in a day or two, picking up where he left off while I was left to pick up the pieces. Again.

  “I told you I can’t do this again,” I said, burying my face in his neck when he pulled me close. I drank in the familiar scent of him, tears stinging my eyes as I reveled in the rightness of being wrapped in his strong arms. “It’s taken me so long to try to get over you.”

  “You’re not over me,” he whispered, holding the back of my head as he pressed a kiss to my temple. “You’ll never be over me, just like I’ll never be over you.”

  Was he right? I didn’t want to believe it, but I’d been trying to deny it for so long, and my heart still hurt as much today as it had when I’d broken up with him almost three years ago.

  “I won’t make you regret it this time, Ri. I promise you.”

  “Don’t.” I shook my head, feeling helpless and hopeless and confused. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Not again.”

  “Look at me.” He gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Can’t you see what this has been doing to me, trying to live without you? Those days we spent together in Colorado just proved to me how much I need you.”

  “If that’s true, why haven’t you reached out to me? You let me believe that you were over me, over us.”

  “Never.” He kissed me hard and fast, taking my breath away. “I didn’t call because I didn’t think you wanted me to. I didn’t know if you were still with him, or if you’d accepted his proposal.”

  “Why didn’t you ask Jaci or Nex? They could have told you.”

  “I was afraid.”

  Hearing Brody admit he was afraid of something, anything, was shocking.

  “I knew if I found out you’d agreed to marry him, it would just send me deeper into this spiral of depression.”

  That word, depression, scared me. I knew the impact it could have on people’s lives. “What are you talking about?”

  “Ever since we broke up, I’ve been…” His shoulders shook as he took several deep, soundless breaths. “In a really bad place. I wanted you back so badly, I just didn’t know how to reach you. I didn’t know if I could be the man you needed, and I knew it wasn’t fair to come back to you unless I was.”

  I knew he was being sincere. His torment was painfully obvious, especially to someone who knew him as well as I did. “You could have tried to talk to me.”

  “Would you have listened?”

  I lowered my head, unable to answer him. If he’d shown up at my door before, there was a very real possibility I would have sent him away out of self-preservation. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s my point.” He slipped his hand under my hair, his palm resting against my jaw as his eyes held mine. “When we were just sleeping together, I knew it wasn’t what you wanted. It wasn’t enough for you. But I felt like at least I could breathe when you were sleeping in my arms. When I was kissing you, making love to you…” He closed his eyes. “It was the only time I felt alive.”

  I’d wanted to hear him say these things then. Not now. Now it was too late. Wasn’t it?

  “When you ended it, when you told me there was someone else, a part of me died.” When I shook my head, he said, “I’m serious. A part of me died. I feel like I can’t get it back. I can’t find the guy I used to be. Nothing makes me happy anymore.”

  “Not even poker?”

  “No.”

  I never thought I’d hear those words pass his lips. Poker had always been his reason for waking up. Being the best in the world was the only thing that had been on his radar for years.

  “I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t know what I can do to help you.” Before he could respond, I curled my hands around his biceps, pleading with him to understand where I was coming from, what this was doing to me. “I have to protect myself, Brody. You think it’s been easy for me, trying to get over you? It hasn’t. It’s been hell.”

  “And doesn’t that tell you something? The fact that you can’t get over me, that I can’t get over you. Doesn’t that tell you that maybe we shouldn’t be apart at all?”

  “You’re just here because you had nowhere else to go.” It was harsh, but it was also the truth. “You couldn’t show up on your brothers’ doorsteps and drop a bombshell like this in the middle of the night. So you came here, to me, just like you always do when you need a shoulder to cry on.”

  Not that he’d ever literally cried on my shoulder, except when his mother died. But I’d always been his go-to person when he couldn’t talk to his family about something. I was his security blanket, and I didn’t want to be that anymore. Not when that was all I could ever be to him.

  “I’m here because there’s nowhere else I wanted to be. There’s no one else I wanted to be with. I paced my hotel room after I saw him. Drinking, swearing, seething. I wanted to knock his door down and beat the shit out of him for walking back into my life like he had the right.”

  Sadly, I could imagine Brody doing just that. Especially in his current state. “I’m glad you didn’t do that. You know it would have been a mistake.” I didn’t know anything about his father’s life now or why he’d decided to pay his son a visit, but I knew they couldn’t address their ugly past with more ugliness.

  “Yeah, I knew that because I heard your voice telling me it would be. I knew if I acted on impulse, it could eventually get back to you and you’d be disappointed in me
. That’s why I didn’t do it.”

  I was touched that my opinion still mattered so much to him. “Why don’t I fix us something to drink, and you can tell me about what happened tonight?” He looked longingly at my peaked nipples as I rolled my eyes, shoving against his shoulder so I could slip past him. “Keep right on dreaming, ‘cause that’s not gonna happen.”

  I would never tell him how close I’d been to letting that happen. Fortunately, before I’d been able to forget myself, I remembered all the reasons we broke up in the first place.

  “Does that mean you’re not going to send me packing tonight?”

  “You can stay.” Before he could get any ideas, I added, “In the guest bedroom.”

  He sighed, following me into the kitchen. “I guess I can’t complain. I do appreciate you listening, Ri. I could use some advice.”

  I set about making two mugs of hot chocolate. Though he teased me about drinking it, I was addicted. Regardless of the temperature, I always ended my day with a hot chocolate with whipped cream. “So tell me what happened with your dad. Why did he come to see you?”

  He was leaning over the counter less than a foot away from me, one elbow resting on the smooth, dark surface. “He thought I’d want to know that I have two half-brothers. Can you believe that?”

  My hand curled around the flavored pod as I stared at him, trying to imagine what he must be thinking and feeling. I knew how close he and his brothers were. To know that he had two more that he’d never even met…

  “Wow,” I said finally. “How old are they?”

  “Don’t know, don’t care.”

  “I don’t believe that.” Tearing my eyes away from him, I finished my task before going to the fridge for the whipped cream.

  “You sure you want to waste that on hot chocolate?” he asked, his eyes trailing up and down my body. “I can think of a lot more fun ways to use it.”

  Oh God. It wouldn’t be the first time Brody had used my body as his own personal tasting board. Melted chocolate. Whipped cream. Whisky. He’d poured, drizzled, and sprayed so many concoctions over my body, I was getting short of breath just remembering them. And judging by that wicked look in his intense blue eyes, that had been his intent.

  “If you don’t stop, I will kick you out, you know.”

  He pouted, making me smile. When he wasn’t busy being sexy, he was often adorable, which was part of the reason he was so impossible to resist.

  “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

  “Don’t tempt me,” I warned, thrusting the can of whipped cream at him. “You do the honors while I grab a robe. If we’re going to talk, you’re not going to be ogling me while we do.”

  “Aw,” he groaned. “You’re no fun.”

  I smacked his ass on the way past. “Now we both know that’s not true.”

  I returned a few minutes later, my hair and teeth brushed, a short black cotton robe covering my sleepwear. He’d seen it all before, but this was different. Tonight I was his friend. His confidante. Not his girlfriend or lover.

  “Thank you,” I said when he passed me an oversized mug filled to the brim with whipped cream. “Let’s go into the living room. Oh wait, are you hungry? I could fix a snack.”

  “I don’t feel like eating, but thanks.”

  When I turned on the overhead light in the living room, I noticed the dark smudges under Brody’s eyes. This definitely wouldn’t be the first night he’d lost sleep. I knew tonight’s watch could be attributed to his father, but what about the others? Was it possible he’d been thinking about me, or had he just been too busy having a good time to sleep? The latter wouldn’t surprise me.

  He sat on one end of my small gray sofa while I sat on the other, facing him.

  “So what else did your dad say, aside from the fact you have two more brothers?”

  “Two half-brothers.” He frowned into his hot chocolate before he took a sip. “He said he got remarried. He claims he’s on the wagon.”

  “You don’t believe him?”

  “How can I? He’s a lying dirtbag. When I think of all the times he told my mom he was working when he was really at some poker game…” He scowled, gripping the mug a little tighter.

  I rested my hand on his knee. “And you don’t believe it’s possible he has changed?”

  “If it’s possible, if he did change for them, what does that say about us?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, inching a little closer.

  “They were worth changing for. We apparently weren’t.”

  “Brody, you don’t know that. Maybe you and your mom and brothers were the catalyst for his change. Maybe he was so ashamed of the way he treated you, he knew he needed help.”

  “Do you really believe people can change?” His question was barely audible.

  I knew we weren’t talking about his father anymore. He wanted to know if I believed he could change. “Sure, I believe people can change. If they want to.”

  “What if they want to but don’t know how?”

  “Then I guess they need help,” I said, trying to tread carefully. I wanted, more than anything, to believe Brody was ready to change, but I couldn’t risk getting hurt again. I couldn’t pin all of my hopes and dreams on something that would never materialize. “Maybe someone to mentor them?”

  “He said he had a sponsor,” Brody said, staring straight ahead at the flat-screen TV tucked into a creamy wood wall unit I’d had made. “That’s how he got sober. He met this guy who ran a boarding house. A vet, I guess, who suffered from PTSD.”

  “Really?” I was surprised Brody had learned so much about the life his father had been living for the past two decades. I would have expected him to kick his dad out before he’d had the chance to plead his case.

  “Yeah, my old man seems to think he’s suffering from the same. PTSD.”

  I frowned. “I don’t remember you telling me he was in the military.”

  Brody rolled his eyes. “That coward in the military? Are you kidding?”

  “Then how—”

  “His old man used to beat the hell out of him.”

  “Oh,” I said, diverting my gaze. I could tell Brody was trying to come to terms with what he’d learned, trying to decide whether he could believe his father’s claim that he’d been victimized long before he became a husband and parent.

  “Yeah.” He blew out a breath before tilting his head back to the look at the ceiling. “So what the hell am I supposed to do with that? I mean, why did he even tell me? So I would feel sorry for him, cut him some slack?”

  I took the mug from his hands and set it on the end table. “Maybe he just wanted you and your brothers to understand why he wasn’t able to be the father you needed.”

  “I can’t tell them about this.” He tipped his head toward me, his eyes capturing mine. “You think I should tell them I saw him? Would they want to know?”

  I knew Brody’s family almost as well as my own, but I couldn’t answer that question. He had to decide for himself. “I don’t know. If Ryker had been the one to see him, to learn about what he’d been up to the past twenty-plus years, would you want to know?”

  “No.” He closed his eyes before reaching for my free hand. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “You don’t have to decide anything tonight. Sleep on it. You’ll know what to do in the morning.”

  “Thanks for letting me crash here tonight.” He brought my hand to his lips.

  “You’re welcome.” I knew if I’d needed someone, he’d have been there for me.

  “I should let you get some sleep.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead.

  After the passionate kisses we’d shared, this one confused me, even though I knew he was just trying to respect my boundaries. “Yeah, good night, Brody.”

  Chapter Three

  Riley

  After waking up to a homemade breakfast and freshly brewed coffee, thanks to my handsome house guest, I was trying to focus on work. It wasn’t easy when I ima
gined Brody making himself comfortable at my place.

  I frowned, jumping up when I heard a familiar voice chatting with my assistant outside my office door. Could it be…?

  “Oh my God, Macy! What are you doing here?”

  My kid sister giggled before launching herself into my waiting arms. “I wanted to surprise you. Surprise!”

  I held her at arm’s length, grinning from ear to ear. I hadn’t seen her in over a year, and I’d forgotten just how powerful her infectious laugh and smile were. She’d always been able to light up any room she walked into, even when we were kids. If there was one thing I needed now, it was a little light in my life.

  “Get in here,” I said, wrapping my arm around her as I ushered her inside my office. “I thought you had so many performances booked. How’d you get away?”

  Macy was a singer/songwriter who performed in an up-and-coming duo with her long-time boyfriend, Brendan. I was still amazed no one had signed them to a lucrative record deal, but according to my sister, Nashville was one of the hardest places to make it big.

  “He has laryngitis, so we had to cancel a few shows,” she explained. “Hopefully he’ll be good to go when I get back and we can reschedule them.”

  I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something didn’t seem right. I sat on the sofa where I often chatted with clients during intake interviews, and gestured to the chair next to me. “Sit. I want to hear about what you and Brendan have been up to.”

  She sat in the oversized chair, looking like more of a little girl than a grown woman as she kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her. She had fair, delicate features and wide blue eyes. But at five one, she always joked if they ever came up with a pill to enhance height, she’d ask to be their first guinea pig.

  “We’ve been busy with work,” she said, biting her clear-polished nail. That habit dated back to childhood and still drove our mother crazy whenever she witnessed it.

  “And…?” I knew they’d leased a bigger apartment. I had expected to hear that they loved the new place and were slowly filling it with treasures from their travels. “How’s the new place?”

 

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