Awakened by the CEO's Kiss

by Therese Beharrie

  She pulled a face. ‘It’s not the same thing.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘He’s not here,’ she said, spreading her hands out in front of her. ‘How can I be living for him when he’s not even here?’

  It was such a raw question that he didn’t speak. He didn’t want to push her, certainly not when, again, some of his intentions were selfish. He wanted her to know that it was okay for her to move on. It didn’t have to be with him—liar, an inner voice taunted—but moving forward with her life wouldn’t be tainting her husband’s memory in any way.

  Spending that week with me before or after his death though...

  He frowned. He’d been successfully ignoring the fact that they had a history together just as she was. Oh, it slipped into his mind here and there, but for the most part he kept to his earlier resolve. This was yet another reason why. If he started thinking about it, he would have an endless number of questions as to why she wasn’t addressing it.

  Did she not remember it? That seemed impossible, considering what was happening between them now. So why was she still pretending it hadn’t happened? The only reason that made sense was if she had been married at that time. And if not married, a freshly grieving widow. If that was the case, she must have been using him. If either option was the case, she had been using him.

  Their kiss back then must have popped the bubble they were in, bringing her back to the real world. Making her realise what she was doing.

  But that didn’t seem like the Brooke he knew now. The woman who wouldn’t fully utilise the person she had hired to help her in her home, for heaven’s sake. Why would she use a stranger to help her forget about her husband?

  Except she was reticent about her husband.

  He could put it down to grief, but that was an easy solution. A simple one that didn’t feel right...

  Why did he suddenly feel like ignoring their past was no longer an option?

  ‘I don’t like this,’ she said. ‘I don’t like it that you can see things I can’t when you barely know anything about the situation.’

  ‘So tell me,’ he said quietly. Selfishly. Because now he wanted to know what things had been like with her husband so he could figure out where he’d fitted into the situation.

  But she didn’t reply, not for a long time, and he thought she might not answer. And if that were the case, he couldn’t stay. He’d need to keep to his boundaries then, or at least get some space where he could figure out why he was feeling so out of sorts.

  That feeling might easily have come from what he’d revealed—to her and to himself. Mostly to her. Because now, she knew more about him than he could ever hope to know about her. Unless she decided to share. Which, considering she still hadn’t responded, was unlikely.

  Then she spoke.

  ‘It was a car accident.’

  When she looked at him, her eyes reminded him of the ocean during a storm.

  ‘We were driving home from the birthday party of one of Kian’s friends and someone ran a red light...’ She trailed off, her fingers curling into her skirt. ‘His condition was critical since we were hit on his side. Mine wasn’t. I barely had any injuries.’

  ‘You were...you were in the car?’

  She nodded. ‘He spent about a week in the hospital after that, and his heart kept failing. It put his body under so much strain, so I signed a DNR. He...’ She cleared her throat. ‘He died a couple of hours later.’

  ‘Brooke, I’m...’ Speechless. He was speechless. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  When she sat back, he realised for the first time that she had moved forward, to the edge of her seat, at some point during the conversation. He wanted to lean over and take her hand, as she had done for him earlier, but since she had been the one to pull away it felt like crossing a line she had drawn.

  ‘The trauma took a long time to work through,’ she said, as if there hadn’t been a pause after she’d last spoken. ‘I had a concussion, which wasn’t bad compared to Kian. I lost some of my memories, but he lost...’ She met his eyes. ‘He lost his life.’

  Again, he was reminded of the ocean during a storm. Of the thrashing of waves against rocks, a violence that was evident but seemingly caused no damage and left no scars. What had happened to Brooke had affected her deeply, even though she seemed fine now. But just because no one witnessed how the waves eroded those rocks over time didn’t mean the damage wasn’t there.

  The metaphor tangled his brain into a web for a long time. So long he didn’t realise what she’d said until she was already standing, putting the plates together.

  ‘Wait—did you say you lost some of your memories?’

  She didn’t look at him. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘As in...amnesia?’

  ‘Selective,’ she confirmed. ‘Parts of the accident and some of the time after. A lot of what I’ve told you my brother told me.’

  ‘You don’t remember it? Any of it?’

  ‘I remember bits and pieces. But most of the events surrounding the accident and the week or so after I don’t remember. The doctors said it was a result of the physical and emotional trauma of the accident and then losing Kian.’ She pulled the plates against her body. ‘So, Tyler, if I’m not living for myself, it’s because I had a husband who didn’t get to live at all. Living for him doesn’t feel like a choice now, does it?’

  She didn’t wait for a reply, moving into the house. He didn’t follow her. His mind was too busy spinning. He was afraid that if he did follow her, he would push past the line she’d set. He might be selfish, but he wasn’t a complete jerk. Besides, he had a good idea of where all the questions he had would lead.

  He’d met Brooke outside the hospital. It must have either been during the week her husband had been in hospital, or after he’d died. And if that was the case, she didn’t remember any of the time they’d spent together. Not because it didn’t mean anything to her, but because she had amnesia.

  She didn’t remember him because she couldn’t.

  He would have to tell her...wouldn’t he?

  Why did that seem like the nuclear option all of a sudden?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  BROOKE HADN’T SEEN Tyler in over a week. Not since they’d had that fairly explosive conversation during breakfast. That might not be the right description considering they hadn’t exactly had an argument, but it had felt emotionally explosive. And the carnage hadn’t only been memories she’d managed to keep at bay for a long time, but apparently their fledgling friendship.

  If only she’d known that all she had to do to stop their relationship from progressing faster than she liked was to tell him about her dead husband.

  ‘What?’ Dom said now, looking up from a plate of food stacked ridiculously high.

  ‘What?’ she replied.

  ‘You laughed.’

  Brooke pulled her face. ‘I did not.’

  ‘You did,’ Sierra said, giving her a sympathetic look.

  ‘I did not,’ she said, although at this point she was fairly certain she had. She looked at her nephew. ‘Did I, Marcus?’

  Her nephew nodded solemnly.

  She sighed. ‘Only four years old and already turning against his aunt.’

  But she winked at him, and he offered her a bright smile. She snorted when she saw the potato in his mouth, then sobered quickly when his mother reprimanded him.

  ‘So, are you going to tell us?’ Dom asked.

  ‘No.’

  Dom paused before he took a bite of his own potato. ‘No?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re acting weird.’ He lowered his fork. ‘Come to think of it, you’ve been acting weird since you arrived.’

  ‘It’s seeing your new haircut,’ she replied, even as a ripple of unease went through her. ‘That fade is not a good look for you.’
>
  Her brother looked as if he wanted to swear at her, but his eyes settled on his son and he merely said, ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘I am,’ she agreed. ‘Which should tell you how unwilling I am to talk about whatever it is making me act weird.’

  They stared at one another. Brooke held his gaze because she knew that if she didn’t, it would look as if she was hiding something. She wasn’t. Yes, there was the small matter of wanting to move on with her life, but there was nothing wrong with that. Right? Wasn’t that what she’d told Tyler? That wanting a life where she was important, too, wasn’t a bad thing?

  Except it had been easier to tell him that than to believe it herself. She didn’t know how to feel about moving on sometimes. Especially in this circumstance. Was it because things with her and Tyler were different from how things with her and Kian had been? Or was it because she felt as if she was betraying her husband by wanting someone else? Was it guilt because the only reason she could want someone else was because her husband had died?

  She should make an appointment with her therapist, but she already knew what he would say. It was probably all of it.

  They’d already established that she wanted to live her life for Kian. To move forward because he couldn’t. For the most part she was succeeding. She was doing well at work, her relationship with her family was strong. It was really only moving on romantically that was the problem.

  And knowing that didn’t change anything one bit.

  ‘Brooke—’

  ‘Sierra,’ Brooke said, ignoring her brother and whatever that placating tone of voice was about to bring, ‘how’s work going?’

  Sierra’s eyes shifted between Dom and Brooke, but she answered Brooke’s question, as if realising it would be safer than whatever Dom had been about to ask. The conversation moved from there to Brooke’s work, and the fact that she was nearing the end of a project pretty soon.

  ‘Another week, maybe a few more days, and we’ll be done.’

  ‘Days before deadline, too,’ Dom said, and there was pride in his voice even though this was the first time he’d spoken since she’d brushed him off.

  ‘Yep. Hopefully that’ll mean the launch will go smoothly.’

  ‘Do you still want me to come with you?’

  ‘Oh.’

  She’d forgotten she’d told Dom she wanted him to come. It had felt like a significant event, one she didn’t want to deal with alone. But between when she’d asked him and now she hadn’t thought about it again.

  She warned her brain not to point out any helpful reasons as to why.

  ‘Yeah, I’d love that,’ she said.

  ‘You sure?’ Sierra teased. ‘You hesitated for a bit. Is there someone else you’d rather take?’

  It was teasing. Simple teasing. And if she’d brushed it off, called it ridiculous, they would have laughed and moved on.

  Except she didn’t.

  She opened her mouth. Closed it. Like a fish at the water’s surface, eating its food. Only she wasn’t doing something sensible like eating or, say, defending herself. She was revealing something she’d rather not have anyone know. Not now, when it was messy and complicated. Maybe not ever.

  And then—then—she did the next worst thing. She blushed. A blood rushing to her face, heat exploding in her cheeks blush.

  ‘Oh...’ Sierra said slowly, her mouth forming the letter, too. ‘Oh, Brooke. I’m so, so sorry.’

  Brooke looked at Sierra. Sympathised. At least she would have if she hadn’t been the one in the line of fire. Because the reason Sierra was apologising wasn’t because she’d teased Brooke, but because of the reaction such a revelation was going to elicit from Dom.

  ‘She’s right?’ Dom asked, his gaze intense. ‘There’s someone in your life?’

  She took a second to reply, aware that her physical reaction had already revealed a lot.

  ‘I have many people in my life,’ she said slowly.

  ‘Brooke,’ her brother said with a patience she knew he didn’t feel, ‘do you have someone romantic in your life?’

  ‘Well, considering how you treat Sierra, I think you’re romantic. Does that—?’

  ‘Brooke.’

  It was a bark now. She winced.

  ‘There might be someone. But honestly,’ she rushed to say, not allowing him to interrupt, ‘it’s nothing.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Who said it was a he?’

  ‘Brooke.’

  ‘Dom,’ she deadpanned. ‘You realise I am thirty years old? An adult?’ She spelled it out for him. ‘I do not have to justify my actions or my decisions to you. I am not a kid, nor am I a suspect you can interrogate simply because you want to.’

  The silence that followed was long and tense. Brooke stared at Dom; Dom stared right back.

  When it dipped into ridiculous territory, Sierra spoke. ‘Hey, Marcus, we’re just about done here. How about you and I take dessert...?’ She trailed off, as if realising she hadn’t exactly thought it through, then said, ‘Literally anywhere other than here!’

  Marcus eyed Brooke and Dom, but silently slipped off his chair and followed his mom into another room.

  As soon as they’d left, Dom leaned forward. ‘That’s unfair and you know it.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Brooke, ‘but so is making me feel like I’m doing something irresponsible.’

  ‘I never once said—’ He broke off at the look she gave him. ‘All right, fine. I might be giving off that vibe. But it’s not because I don’t trust you to make good decisions for yourself.’

  ‘Really? Because it sure sounds like it.’

  ‘I don’t trust other people,’ he said. ‘And I know you’re about to tell me that’s a cliché, but it’s literally my job to be suspicious. Is it so wrong for me to be protective of my sister? My sister who’s lost too much in her life and deserves happiness?’

  Her heart softened, which she knew had been his intention, and she narrowed her eyes. ‘I know what you’re doing.’

  He gave her a twist of a smile. ‘Is it working?’

  ‘You know it is.’

  His smile widened. There was a slight pause before he said, ‘Are you happy?’

  She sat back in her chair. ‘What does it mean that I don’t know how to answer that?’

  ‘You should be happy,’ he replied carefully. ‘But I think it’ll be hard for you to figure out because you don’t know what that means any more. At least not when it comes to romance.’

  She blinked. ‘That’s surprisingly astute, Dom.’

  ‘I’ve been married for ten years.’

  ‘I thought most of that success was Sierra’s doing.’ But she smiled at him before she sobered. ‘It’s true.’ She paused. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know if what I’m feeling is what I’m supposed to be feeling. It feels like too much, too soon.’

  ‘The relationship? Or the fact that it’s happening at all?’

  ‘It’s been five years,’ she answered, though it wasn’t really an answer. At least, not a truthful answer.

  The truth was that sometimes it felt like either one of those. Sometimes both—sometimes neither. But she couldn’t tell her brother that. She would sound unstable. She felt unstable.

  ‘I want it to feel normal,’ she admitted. ‘I want it to be easy and normal and... I don’t know... I don’t want to feel like I’m coming into this relationship with some kind of internal deficit. That’s how I feel right now.’

  ‘Like your grief is a deficit?’

  ‘Baggage,’ she said with a nod. ‘Why would anyone want that?’

  Dom took a while to answer. ‘Everyone has baggage. This guy—or whatever this person’s gender,’ he added, ‘will have it, too. Sure, it might not be grief, but it’ll be something. No baggage is equal in a relationship, but that’s probably what makes it equal.
’

  ‘That makes no sense,’ she teased.

  ‘Yeah, I know.’

  ‘It’s still pretty wise, though.’

  ‘I know that, too.’

  She laughed.

  They sat in silence again, but it was easy this time. It made her nostalgic for the days when they were growing up. They would fight as though they had everything to lose, even when the fight was over something idiotic like the remote control. An hour or so later they’d be sitting together on the couch, watching a show and arguing without heat over something as idiotic as the topic of their original fight.

  ‘There’s no such thing as normal,’ Dom said gently.

  He reached out to take her hand, and the comfort of having her big brother holding her hand soothed the uncertainty in her heart.

  ‘We pretend like there is, but there isn’t. There’s only what works for us. So if this person works for you, B, that’s enough. You don’t have to have all the answers now.’

  She smiled at him, thanked him, and then went to tell Sierra it was safe for her and Marcus to come back to the kitchen. Brooke and Dom made a special effort to show Marcus they were getting along, so he knew that their tiff had been a simple one.

  ‘It’s time you got him a sibling,’ she told Dom when she left. ‘He needs to know that family fights aren’t the end of the world.’

  ‘Your wish is our command.’

  ‘That’s a weird—Wait,’ she said, when she took in his smile. ‘Sierra’s pregnant? You’re having another kid?’

  ‘In seven more months, yeah.’

  She squealed, jumped into her brother’s arms, and then went back inside to tell her sister-in-law that she was excited and would be there for her no matter what.

  The happiness of the news followed her as she drove home. It coated her thoughts, so that they felt happy even though she was still thinking about what Dom had said.

  Did Tyler work for her? There were certainly moments. Those moments happened when they were together. It was the distance between them that was filled with uncertainty.

  But that wasn’t what stayed with her the most. What struck her the most was Dom saying she didn’t have to have all the answers now. Under normal circumstances, she would have agreed. Except with Tyler it felt as if there was an element of urgency. A time limit if he was leaving. And he wanted to leave, so the fact that he would seemed almost inevitable.