The Embrace Series: Romantic Suspense Box Set

by Dana Mason

  “No, that’s not—” He shook his head. “He won’t get violent with you or Ali, but he might get mean. You’re scrappy. You’ll fight back and not take his crap. Ali will get her feelings hurt.”

  “It’s not appropriate for Melissa to do this though,” Ali said, glancing up from her fabric swatches. “Considering the circumstances.”

  Johnny looked from Ali to Melissa. “Melissa is the perfect person to do this.”

  “Why can’t you do it?” Ali asked Mark.

  Mark gestured between him and Johnny. “We’ve both tried.”

  “He won’t listen, he just wants to fight. He’d never hurt Melissa, and she’s stubborn enough to get through to him. She has the best chance,” Johnny said.

  “Maybe we should wait, give him more time?” Ali asked Mark.

  “It’s been nearly three weeks, Ali. The sooner he gets back on the job, the quicker he’ll heal,” Mark said.

  “He’s done nothing but sit around and drink since the funeral,” Johnny said.

  “Where are the kids?” Ali asked.

  “They’ve been staying at Mr. and Mrs. Hammel’s house since the funeral,” Melissa said. “I’ve been spending a couple of days a week with them.”

  “Melissa, will you go over there?” Mark asked. “Something needs to be done before he drinks himself to death.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, but I doubt he’ll answer the door.”

  “I have a key and the alarm code.”

  “Won’t that get you in trouble?” Ali asked. “He’s technically a Summors Security client.”

  “I care more about Brian than I do his privacy. He can sue me later if he wants. I just want to make sure he’s still breathing,” Mark said, writing down Brian’s code.

  Chapter Ten

  The smell of dirty laundry and rotting garbage assaulted Melissa when she walked into Brian’s house. She wandered around the dark living room, and her heart sank. The place looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned in months, and Julie had always kept an immaculate house when she was alive. Melissa wanted to cry for the loss of her friend. Every memory she had of this place included Julie. This house had been Julie’s pride and joy, the foundation of her family. Melissa stood and stared for a long time, hating Brian for doing this, but pitying him at the same time for losing his wife.

  She’d be strong, refrain from dwelling on things she couldn’t change. Brian needed help, and the mess in front of her proved that. She kicked laundry out of her way as she climbed the stairs. How did his laundry end up on the stairs?

  She entered the master bedroom and found him curled in the fetal position in the middle of the bed, shirtless and in sweatpants with no socks. “Oh God, Brian,” she whispered, her chest growing heavy with grief. He was out cold, and for a second, Melissa feared the worst. Two empty Wild Turkey bottles littered the floor around the bed, and a prescription bottle sat next to a third whiskey bottle on the nightstand. She snatched up the prescription and opened it to count the pills.

  “Eighteen pills.” She looked at the label. The prescription was written for twenty-five.

  She inhaled, forced back her tears, and looked down at Brian’s near-naked body. He was thin and pale with a growth of hair on his chin. He’s hurting. He is really hurting, and I can’t help. She leaned over, touching his forehead and cheek, cringing at his cold clamminess. His comforter had been kicked off the bed and laid wadded up on the floor. She picked it up and covered him.

  The stale whiskey and dirty laundry stench was awful; she reached over and opened the window, letting in a cool, fall breeze, and then she started cleaning. She didn’t stop until the room was presentable.

  Brian never stirred, his rhythmic, steady breathing the only proof he wasn’t dead. She didn’t even want to think about the headache he’d have when he finally slept off the drugs and alcohol.

  She carried the laundry downstairs and started cleaning the rest of the house feverishly, hoping to get it done before he woke. He’d be pissed, and she knew it. He didn’t want help, especially her help, but she couldn’t watch him destroy himself.

  When the house was clean, she looked in on him again and felt an overwhelming need to lie with him. He needed someone. He needed arms around him, and he needed support. She couldn’t walk out and leave him, not like this.

  “Let him be mad, I don’t care.”

  Melissa kicked off her shoes and adjusted the blanket before crawling onto the bed with him. She lifted his head and cradled it in her lap, leaning against the headboard, and stroking the dark curls off his face to get a closer look at him.

  He seemed settled and calm except for the wrinkle between his eyes. A luster of sweat covered his pale, olive skin, but she didn’t care. Seeing him hurting like this reminded her of the days after he’d first married Julie. She’d been just as broken and hurt over him.

  This used to be her place. Brian should have been her place—it was meant to be—but something had happened. How had she lost him? How had they gotten so lost and on separate paths when everything had fit together so perfectly?

  All around her, the room slowly grew dark, but she didn’t move. She stayed with him, surrounded by his scent. The smell of whiskey was there, too, but she also smelled that familiar scent that was all Brian. It brought back so many memories . . .

  “Meet me after school,” Brian said, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.

  Melissa glanced at her watch, then at the coach watching them as they jogged the track. They were behind on their average mile time, and they’d catch hell for it. “My mom is picking us up. I can’t today.”

  Brian slowed to a stop and bent over, pretending to tie his shoe. “Tonight?”

  “What are you doing? Get up. We’re already off our time. Come on, he’s going to separate us if we keep screwing around.”

  Brian smiled up at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Promise to meet me tonight and I’ll run faster.”

  Melissa laughed and brushed a hand at him. “Forget it, Hammel. I’m leaving you in the dust.” She took off running, rounding the corner as fast as she could, knowing he could easily catch her.

  His footsteps pounded when he came up behind her.

  “The creek, ten o’clock, Parker.”

  She laughed and said, “I’ll try.”

  But he didn’t hear; he was already ten strides ahead.”

  He’d always been so much fun. They’d enjoyed each other every day. God, she hadn’t thought about him in so long.

  It was on purpose.

  She’d stopped thinking about him on purpose. Everything about him hurt her—his life, his wife, his kids, his job, his home, and his friends—but more than anything, it was his love for Julie that killed her. And here she was, consoling him in his grief for her. “Damn, I must be crazy,” she whispered. “This is going to hurt later when I’m alone and have to remember it. Damn, Julie.” What a mess she left behind. This family would never be the same. Their memories tainted, even the kids.’ It sickened Melissa to think about how their last memory of their mother would be of her leaving, then dying.

  Melissa remembered a simpler time, a time when she, Julie, and Brian had spent all their time together. They were such good friends, but not once had Melissa thought they would ever betray her. She never questioned Brian and Julie’s friendship or loyalty until she got the call from Ali telling her they’d gotten married.

  She closed her eyes at the memory and listened to Brian’s breathing until she drifted off.

  She woke up to lips on her lips and hands on her body. She moved slowly into the kiss and tasted stale whiskey on his breath, but she didn’t care. He felt good, and his strong hands knew exactly where to touch her. Her eyes drifted open to total darkness, and, oddly, the darkness was comforting. But she also realized where she was, in Brian and Julie’s bed, not hers. Brian touching her, not Chase. Brian touching her, but believing she was Julie. And that hurt more than anything.

  “Melissa,” he bre
athed out her name then inhaled as his mouth travel to her hairline and followed down to her ear. “Melissa . . .”

  Oh God, Brian wasn’t calling for Julie. It was her name slipping from his lips. “Brian, Brian, stop.” She gently pushed his face away and had to force down the lump in her throat. “You’re drunk.”

  “Melissa?” He leaned back and rested a hand on her face, as if confirming she was actually there and he wasn’t dreaming. “What are you doing in my house?”

  She lifted the hand off her face. “I came to check on you, but I fell asleep.”

  “Yeah? In my bed?”

  She lifted to get up, but he held her down.

  “Brian, let me up.”

  “No. And I’m not drunk,” he slurred, pulling her to him, and lying back down to snuggle against her.

  She tried to turn out of his grip.

  “No, don’t move. Why are you here?”

  “You looked lonely, and . . . I wanted to hold you for a minute, make sure you were okay. I’m worried about you.”

  “I am, but I’m tired, too, so shh . . . go back to sleep.”

  “Brian . . .”

  “What? Lis—just go back to sleep.”

  Melissa chuckled. “Yeah, sure you’re not drunk.” Her smiled dropped into a frown and she said, “I thought you would throw me out when you found me here.”

  “I wouldn’t throw you out.” He stroked her hair and inhaled again, brushing his nose against her cheek. “But I will if you don’t shut up and let me sleep.”

  The way he held her felt so familiar. She shouldn’t have wanted to snuggle closer, to take advantage of his drunken state, but even with a quivering nervous stomach, she couldn’t let go.

  “It’s so dark; how did you know it was me?”

  “Your scent. I’d recognize it anywhere.” He shifted, resting her head on his chest. “It was sort of like waking from a long dream. I wasn’t thinking . . . just following my instincts.”

  “You didn’t think I was Julie?”

  He stiffened. “I knew you weren’t Julie. Please shut the hell up.”

  She tried not to be hurt, but the truth was evident in his words. She wasn’t his wife, and he would never forget that or let her forget it either. It shouldn’t matter to her regardless. Her head understood that, but her heart felt something entirely different.

  “Why are you here?” he asked again as if he’d already forgotten their conversation from a moment ago.

  “I’m here for you.” She held her breath, fighting the tears forming in her eyes. “I thought you wanted to go back to sleep.”

  “Fucking Mark, man,” Brian bellowed, and Melissa’s head bobbed up and down with his chest as he silently laughed. He still held her close and tightly, as if he needed some lifeline to reality or solid proof he wasn’t dreaming after weeks of solitude. “So much for trusting my security guy with my house key.”

  “Are you angry?” she whispered.

  He cleared his throat and shook his head. “I know everyone is worried.”

  “You need to stop this, Brian.” Her voice wavered, giving her away. “It hurts everyone to see you like this.”

  Brian pulled her closer. “Shh, shh, I know,” he said. “I just want to get back to work.”

  “Your life isn’t just work alone. You need to consider your family, too.”

  “I don’t have a family,” he gritted out. “Julie destroyed our family when she slept with another man.”

  “No, your family wasn’t destroyed. Your marriage maybe, but not your family.” She sat up and rested on her elbow. “It’s up to you to pull it together and make things work again.”

  “I don’t have anything left to pull together.”

  “Julie was your whole world, and I understand you loved her and that she hurt you, but you need to move forward. Think about your kids, Bri.” She could barely see him in the dark room, but she saw enough, sensed enough, to know she’d made him angry.

  He lifted up, getting in her face. “Don’t. You don’t know anything.”

  “I know one thing for sure—you need to stop this.”

  “Erin and Cody are better off without me. They don’t need me; they don’t want me. They want their mom.”

  “Well, she’s gone. You’re the only parent they have left. Get off your ass and do something. Stop sitting around getting drunk and feeling sorry for yourself.” The heat of her anger rushed her face, and she sat up, putting space between them.

  “If you don’t like what you see—leave. You broke into my house, Parker.” He lay back down and reached over for his whiskey, but it was gone. “Where’s my bottle?” he said, searching the dark room. “What the hell did you do with my bottle?” His voice hardened as each word came out.

  “I dumped it.”

  “Get out!”

  “No—I won’t. Throw me out if you don’t want me here.”

  Brian lay there for a long time, not speaking or moving. Melissa thought maybe he’d gone back to sleep, but when she heard him take a sharp breath she touched his shoulder.

  “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here.” She waited a second then added, “Brian, I’m not leaving you.”

  “You are so full of shit. You have no problem leaving. It’s what you do. You leave!” He took another sharp breath, as if trying to keep from shouting.

  Melissa ignored the jab and tried again. “If I’ve learned anything from this, it’s that life is too short to ignore the people you care about.”

  “Whatever, Parker. After seventeen years of hating me, you’re going to pretend you care?”

  “You know I care.” She wanted to punch him, but instead, she reached out for him. “I understand you need to be angry now, so go ahead and be angry with me. I don’t mind being that person for you.”

  “Fuck you and your pity.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you, Brian. I’m disappointed. I expected more.”

  Brian exhaled, his anger dissipating into desperation. “I just . . . don’t know what to do now.”

  “You’re going to get up every day, and you’re going to be a dad to Erin and Cody—every day. Eventually, getting up will get easier. Until then, take one deep breath at a time. I’ll help you.”

  They were both quiet for a moment, and Melissa thought he’d given in until he said, “Why don’t you go back to that pansy-ass boyfriend of yours and leave me in peace.”

  “You’re such a jerk!”

  “You don’t have to be here if you don’t like it!”

  Melissa stood and paced the room, fighting with everything she had not to scream at him. She dropped down onto the chaise in the corner of the room and brought her knees to her chest, staring at Brian, who’d mirrored her, curling into the fetal position. She tried to ignore him, she certainly didn’t want to be anywhere near him. He was being such an ass. But she couldn’t help it. She thought about his kiss and his lips. She touched her own lips and held her breath to keep from crying. He felt so good. Just being there with him felt so good, and that made her feel so shitty. She loved Chase, and he didn’t deserve for her to be unfaithful.

  It didn’t matter anyway. Brian didn’t want her. He wanted Julie. He’d even said that. He’d outright said Melissa was not Julie. Well . . . she couldn’t bring Julie back, but she could be there for him even if it drove them both crazy. As mean as he was, she wouldn’t leave him alone, not like this.

  Chapter Eleven

  Brian couldn’t see her, but it was obvious he’d upset her again. The truth was—he exhaled heavily, the pain of it hitting him hard—everything was his fault, and he was paying dearly for it. He had cheated on Melissa all those years ago. Melissa . . . the one person who had loved and trusted him more than anything. The one person he had trusted more than anyone, and the one person who could bring him to his knees with one simple smile. He had broken every promise he had ever made to her. He had slept with Julie, and losing his one person had been his punishment.

  He reminded himself what
the outcome had been. He had Erin and Cody, and they were beautiful; he didn’t regret them. But God, he wanted Melissa. Every day of his life, he wanted her. Every fucking day, he thought about Melissa. Standing at his wife’s gravesite, he’d been thinking of Melissa, not Julie, not Erin, not Cody. Hell, not even himself. Melissa.

  He needed another drink. Her scent still lingered from across the room, killing him.

  Brian stood and stumbled out of the room and down the stairs toward the kitchen. Someone had cleaned; the place looked much better. He entered the kitchen and jerked open the cabinet that held his last bottle of Wild Turkey. As he unscrewed the cap and took a swig, Melissa came in behind him. When she entered, so did her scent. Damn it, he couldn’t escape that powdery . . . soft . . . something scent. Shit, he didn’t know what it was, some sort of flower—too much like springtime in the middle of autumn.

  She still felt the same under his hands, too.

  Brian shook his head as he realized he’d have to remember how she felt today—how fucking good it felt touching her and kissing her. He needed to get rid of her before he lost his mind.

  “You don’t need to stay. I’ll be fine,” he said, tilting the bottle upright.

  “I’m not leaving.” Her voice sounded hard and unwavering, as usual. “I’m not leaving you to drink yourself to death.

  “Gimme a break, Parker,” he sneered as he tipped the bottle to his mouth again. He lowered it and swallowed. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Prove it. Clean up and get your act together.”

  “Go away.” Brian walked over to the sliding glass door and stared out into the dark backyard. What was the point of cleaning up? His appearance resembled his life. A mess. He was a fucking mess. His life was a mess. What difference did any of it make anymore anyway?

  She approached him from behind. “Forget it. I’m not leaving. You are going to have to physically throw me out.”

  Brian turned quickly and pinned her against the wall, holding her wrists above her head. Nose-to-nose, he stared at her. Stared into those warm, liquid brown eyes. He wanted to eat her alive. Why, when he felt so dead inside, did he still want her? She hated him, and he didn’t blame her? He was the lowest form of scum. Couldn’t keep his wife happy; couldn’t keep her home and safe. Melissa had to get out before he destroyed her, too.