Ten Million Fireflies (Band of Sisters)

by Marianne Rice

“I don’t even know how much that will be, though. How does this anonymous donor know if it’s going to be a couple hundred or a couple hundred thousand?”

  “He—or she—said it didn’t matter and to send the amount when we had it.”

  “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “I can send along your gratitude. This means all the donations taken in will go directly to support the financing of the campers.”

  “That was always my intent.”

  “Oh.” Suzanne sounded surprised. “Why wouldn’t you use some of the money to pay for damages?”

  “Because the kids and their families need the money more than I do. They need the camp.” And a kick-ass camp she’d give them.

  When they ended the call, Brooke was in no mood to clean. She needed to share the news with Drew. She wanted to share everything with him. Not able to contain her excitement, she ran through the woods and down the trail to his house.

  The deck was empty, his laptop nowhere in sight. Lately, that had been his choice of places to write.

  “Drew?” she called, opening the slider to the kitchen. She could hear the faint clatter of his fingers on his keyboard and followed the sound to his office. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  He swung his head up in surprise and an enormous smile erupted on his face. “Hey, gorgeous. You can interrupt me anytime.”

  “I know you hate it when you’re in your mojo state of mind, but I had to share something with you.” She crossed the room and sat on his knee when he patted it. “Two somethings with you.”

  “Two?” He flipped her baseball cap so it was backward and looped his hands around her neck to pull her in for a kiss. “Tell me,” he said a moment later.

  “I met Diane Westleigh.”

  “Really? Where?” The concern was clear in his eyes.

  “She stopped by today.”

  “Is she okay? Are you...? She didn’t—”

  “No. It’s good. She’s fully supportive of the camp and apologized for Michael.”

  “It’s not her fault. He’s been in and out of trouble with the law for quite a few years.”

  “I wouldn’t accept her apology. She seems like a nice lady. She’s had her share of tragedy.” Brooke stroked Drew’s face. “She told me about the generous things you’ve been doing for her over the years. She’s never blamed you for Ryan’s death. She’s worried about you.”

  Drew shrugged. “Her husband left her a long time ago, and Michael’s a leech. She needed help and wouldn’t accept handouts, so I make it a Christmas gift.”

  “You’re a good man, Drew Beckett.” Brooke kissed him again until they both were breathless. “Oh. More good news.” She pulled back quickly and squirmed in his lap.

  “You’re going to get naked?” He wiggled his brows, and she lightly tapped his chest.

  “No. I’m working. I had to tell you about my anonymous donor.” She told him about the call from Suzanne.

  Drew wouldn’t make eye contact and traced the collar of her T-shirt. “That’s great. Now can we get naked?”

  “What do you mean that’s great? Someone is paying for the leftover balance so I don’t have to dip into—”

  The shifting eyes, the nervous twitch in his hand, the evading... Drew had guilt written all over his face.

  “It’s you. You’re my anonymous donor.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He continued to fiddle with her shirt, this time lowering his hands to cup her breasts.

  “Not so fast, slick.” She grasped his hands in hers and brought them to her sides. “Look me in the eyes.” He did, sort of. “Tell me you’re not my anonymous donor.”

  Those sexy green eyes lowered to her lips. “How about we go back to making out?”

  “How about you tell me the truth?”

  “That is the truth. I want to make out.”

  “It is you.” Brooke wiggled off his lap and paced his office. The window overlooked the pond, but she wasn’t interested in the view. “You’re the only one who knew that the link was live.”

  “There could be many individuals and businesses waiting for your website to go live so they could donate.”

  “Only if you told them.” She pointed her finger at him and strode, deep in thought, to the built-in bookshelves on the other side of the room.

  The first time he offered his home as a place to stay during the summer, she felt trapped—like she’d owe him something if she stayed. And ashamed if he, in turn, would feel trapped to her. Those feelings melted away as her love for Drew grew.

  There was a difference between being independent, being bought, and someone doing something nice. Drew didn’t use his money to buy people. At first appearance it could seem that way with Diane Westleigh. Only he wasn’t trying to buy her forgiveness, he was giving to her because she had no one else.

  She had a feeling he’d offer his home to her and to anyone else who was in need. And he didn’t use his money to buy Brooke’s love. He’d had that sans the money. Giving his heart and his emotions were hard for him but spending money on people he cared about was much easier. She didn’t need him to explain this bit about him. She got it. Crystal clear.

  “I’m sorry if I overstepped my boundaries. That was never my intent.”

  Brooke shelved the book she had picked up, stuck her hands in her back pockets, and swiveled to study him. Gorgeous and awkward in his worn shorts and holey socks. Lucky socks, he’d told her. Between the outfit and the bowl of yellow M&Ms, Drew was an odd duck. And she loved him even more for it.

  That he wanted to be an anonymous financial donor spoke for itself. He wasn’t trying to buy her love. What touched her the most was his support in the camp, when only last month he’d been adamant against opening it. He cared because it meant something to Brooke.

  “You know what?” she asked, stopping in her tracks. “You’re right. We need to get naked.” With that, she stripped off her shirt and flung it on his laptop. “I hope you hit save recently.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. I’m going to save-or this for a long, long time.”

  She laughed at his cheesy pun and fell straight into his arms. “I know how you ornery writers don’t like to be interrupted, though, so if you want me to leave, just say the word.”

  Drew cupped her breasts, then dipped his head to kiss her neck. “Know a lot of ornery writers, do you?”

  “Just one, and one’s enough.” She tipped her head back, giving him more access to her neck as she wiggled in his lap. “Naked, ornery writers are my favorite, though.”

  “Is that so?”

  “That’s very so.” Slipping her hands under his shirt, she peeled it off over his head and flung it across the room. “Buck naked.”

  “I aim to please.” With strength and grace, he lifted her from his lap so they were both standing in front of his desk.

  Drew licked his lips, then lowered his mouth to her breast while he unbuttoned her shorts.

  “I said naked writer, not naked teacher.”

  “You first, sweetheart.”

  Her shorts dropped to her ankles and she stepped out of them, kicking them aside. Brooke ran her fingers along the elastic of his shorts and slipped her hand down the back, squeezing his butt. God, she loved his butt.

  “Your turn.” His shorts dropped quickly and he cast them aside. “I love you, Drew.”

  He lifted his mouth from her breast and returned it to her lips. “I love you too, Brooke.”

  “Okay. Dialogue scene is done. Now let’s work on the action.”

  His lip quirked up and the lines around his eyes crinkled with amusement, but only for a second. Green eyes darkened as he gripped her hips possessively, spinning her so she faced his desk.

  Brooke’s body clenched in anticipation. She leaned her hands on his desk and pressed her butt into his stomach, moaning, begging for him to touch her where she most needed to be touched.

  “Drew.”

  “Uh-huh. You said the dialogue scene is
done. It’s all action now, sweetheart.”

  Drew was a man of his word. One hand cupped her breast while the other cupped her core. He breathed heavily in her ear as he kissed her neck, nudging his way across her cheek, and then he slid into her.

  Brooke’s legs shook with excitement and need as he worked his magic with his fingers while he pumped into her. There was nothing to grip on to, so she dug her toes into the carpet as her hands slid on the desk with every push.

  Being like this, joined with Drew, made every fear, every worry, every sad thought disappear. She didn’t need anything else in her life as long as she had Drew by her side. Or rather, behind her, on top of her, next to her...

  Had she known love would feel so magical, so amazing, she would have sought it out before now. But then she might not have found Drew. He was her everything. She arched her back and moaned as he continued to caress and fondle her.

  It didn’t take long for her body to tense, and she whipped her head back against his shoulder and clenched her thighs as she screamed out his name.

  Drew’s release followed shortly after. His sweaty body draped over hers as they panted to catch their breath.

  “I didn’t realize these were the kinds of action scenes you wrote,” she finally said.

  “If you keep this up, I’ll be writing erotic romances instead of psychological thrillers.”

  “As long as I can be your research partner.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “I hate to desert you tonight, but Carl emailed me this morning. My publisher wants the first draft of the first half of the book in my editor’s hands by Friday.”

  “As in two days Friday?”

  “Yup.” Drew stacked their dinner plates and carried them to the sink. He didn’t like disappointing Brooke. While she’d been the inspiration and motivation for his writing lately, she’d also been a major distraction. One he didn’t mind. Not one bit.

  “That sucks.” She bumped him to the side with her hip. “I’ll take care of the dishes. Go get your sexy ass back in that chair of yours and write your words.” She pecked him on the cheek and loaded the dishwasher.

  “That chair of mine is part of the distraction.” Last night, wearing tight shorts and a skimpy tank top, Brooke had come in to see if he was heading to bed. They made it to bed, eventually. After she sat on his lap and distracted the hell out of him. Because of her, he now kept a box of condoms in his desk drawer.

  For this and nine million other reasons, he loved her dearly. The doorbell rang on his way to the office. “I’ll get it,” he called over his shoulder.

  It wasn’t often he got visitors. With his house down a private road and his driveway a quarter of a mile long, anyone who came by was typically a planned guest.

  “I can get it. You go work.” Brooke nudged him down the hallway and strode past him to the front door.

  Curious who was visiting at seven o’clock on a Wednesday, he hung back in the hallway.

  “What the hell do you want?” He heard Brooke growl.

  His guard instantly went up. Thinking it was Michael Westleigh out of jail, he stormed behind her. The stranger on his doorstep looked vaguely familiar.

  “That’s no way to greet your father.”

  Father? Brooke hadn’t mentioned him other than to say he was out of the picture. The man was tall, his face weathered, his hair too long for his age, his voice throaty like he’d smoked three packs a day for the better—or worse—part of his life.

  “How did you find me?”

  “Hiding, are you? I suppose that’s not out of character. First you hid in the army, now at A.R. Beckett’s house.”

  Drew squeezed Brooke’s shoulders, standing behind her, allowing her to take charge of the conversation, but letting her know he was there for her as well.

  “I’m not hiding. I never have, and I don’t need to now. What do you want, Ike?”

  Ike. Ike Ross. Well, shit. That’s why he looked so familiar. Brooke’s father was the iconic lead singer of the Steel Pirates. While his music wasn’t what Drew listened to now, it was all the rage when he was in high school. He’d even been to one of his concerts.

  “I came to see how my investment was doing.” Brooke’s shoulders tightened under Drew’s touch. “Are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

  “I’m not introducing you to anyone in my life. If you have no legitimate reason to be on this property, I’m asking you to leave.”

  “Can’t a dad come visit his daughter? Especially after he leaves her five million dollars?”

  Again, the tension. And five million dollars? Why hadn’t Brooke mentioned any of this to him before? He’d thought they’d shared everything together. He’d opened up to her about his guilt over the deaths of two boys, and all she shared was her mother’s death and her time in the military.

  A bitterness rose in his throat but he forced it back down, wanting to show full support for Brooke, especially when he could sense how upset she was about Ike’s visit.

  “I didn’t keep a dime of that money. I gave it all away.”

  Drew didn’t realize how tight he was gripping her shoulders and relaxed his hands, rubbing them up and down her arms.

  “To your friends, who gave it all back to you.”

  “They invested in my camp. I have no control over what they do with their money.”

  It all made sense now. While Brooke was waiting for school to start and for a steady income to come in, she’d lived like a woman in poverty, yet she didn’t spare any money with investing in the camp.

  The kitchen remodel had high-end appliances, and she was adamant that her contractors inspect every loose board, every shingle on the structures. And she didn’t take any of the money for herself.

  The bitterness he’d tasted a moment ago washed away and pride took over. Brooke was a woman of character and he was ashamed for doubting her, even for a second.

  “And now you’ve got yourself a rich boyfriend. You’re a smart one, Brooklyn.”

  “Excuse me for interrupting, but since you’re adamant on talking with Brooke, is there a point to your visit, Ike, you said your name was?” He wouldn’t humor the man by admitting he knew who he was.

  “I’m sure my daughter has told you plenty about me.”

  Drew snorted. “Actually, she hasn’t mentioned a father other than to say he’s not in the picture. I’m curious why you’re here now?” He looped an arm around Brooke’s waist and pulled her in close, showing a united front. However, the last thing he wanted to do was overstep his boundaries with her.

  The pained expression on Ike’s face said it all. He wanted to be talked about.

  “Why are you here, Ike?”

  “Can we talk in private?” The man’s face sobered and there was a touch of... embarrassment in his deep wrinkles.

  “Anything you have to say can be said in front of Drew.”

  “This doesn’t involve him.”

  “If it involves me, it involves him.”

  Drew bit his cheeks to avoid smiling like a schoolboy who learned his secret crush liked him, too.

  “Fine. Can I come in?”

  Brooke turned her head, asking Drew for permission with her eyes. He winked back at her. “Your call, sweetheart.”

  “We’ll sit on the back deck. I don’t want you in the living room.” With that, she stormed through the house to the back doors.

  He waited for Ike to follow her and closed the door behind him. Not sure if he should sit outside with her or retreat to his room, he stepped out on the deck and asked if they wanted any drinks.

  “No, he won’t be staying long enough to take a sip of water.” Brooke’s gaze went to the empty chair beside her, and Drew took that as an invitation.

  Sitting close to her, but not so close it looked like she needed a bodyguard, he crossed one leg over his knee and did his best to appear casual. They sat in silence, waiting for Ike to speak. He took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tapped it on the ta
ble.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Brooke warned.

  Ike put them back in his pocket and rolled his shoulders back. The man who’d been at ease on stage in front of thousands, the man who toured the world and had performed in front of millions over his lifetime, appeared to be a ball of nerves.

  “I was disappointed you wouldn’t have lunch with me a couple of months ago when I gave you your money.”

  “You didn’t give the money to me. Your accountant set up a trust fund when I was born as hush-money to my mom. When I turned thirty, I gained access to it. You wanted to use the exchange as a publicity stunt to make yourself appear like a decent human being. I didn’t want the money, so I gave it away to friends.”

  Wow. Why hadn’t she told him about this a long time ago? Or at least in the few weeks since she’d moved in with him?

  “I realize I haven’t been there for you.” Ike hung his head in... shame?

  Brooke laughed. “You think? You never even tried. Didn’t even send a fucking card to me when my mom died.” She pushed back her chair and stormed off into the house.

  Ike sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “She really never told you about me?” Drew shook his head. “I’m what you would call a deadbeat dad. Kelly was one of my roadies. She lived in New York and I’d hook-up with her when I was in town.”

  “You’re a musician?” He could play the role of an ass.

  “You don’t know who I am?”

  Drew shrugged.

  “I’m the lead singer of Steel Pirates.”

  “Sounds familiar.”

  “I didn’t believe her when she said she was pregnant. Made her do the paternity test.”

  “Have any other unwanted kids out there?” Drew tapped his fingers on his thigh, hoping Brooke was okay inside the house.

  “Hell no. Got a vasectomy before the paternity test. Long story short, I was a perfect match. Kelly named her Brooklyn because that’s where her apartment was, where we... you know. I paid her off to keep quiet about the baby. Didn’t want the tabloids to get ahold of the info.”

  “I can only imagine what having a daughter would have done to your career.” Drew laid the sarcasm on extra thick.