by Selena
“I better get some sleep.” She turned as if to leave, then hesitated. “Thanks,” she said. “For everything.”
“Don’t thank me,” I said. “I helped make the little tyrant.”
Without another word, Uma disappeared into the dark hall beyond my room. I sat up a while longer, plucking at my guitar and watching Osceola, before finally drifting off to sleep at the foot of the bed.
* * *
Sometime in the night, I staggered to the kitchen with Osceola in the crook of my elbow. I walked her while her bottle warmed, then fed her and went back upstairs. I thought about getting Uma up, but her door was closed, so I figured I’d let her sleep. After laying Osceola in her crib, I lay down on the twin mattress we’d dragged into her room. Despite her evening crying jags, the baby had already begun to sleep most of the night, only getting up to eat a couple times and then falling back asleep. Tonight, I fell asleep on the mattress on the floor.
In the morning, I dragged myself up to change and feed Osceola before going to wake Uma. An eerie feeling crept over me when I opened her door and saw her bed neatly made. Uma was not the bed-making sort. I had to swallow the sour taste in the back of my throat a few times before crossing the room to her closet. Some part of me knew what I’d find. A part of me had been waiting for this moment, expecting it, every day since she’d crashed the afterparty and told me it was my baby. Not ours. Mine.
With a great heave, I yanked open the closet door. Empty. Methodically, I opened each of her bureau drawers, as if she might have moved her clothes there. When I found them also empty, I retreated to my own room. My laptop was open on the desk, just as I’d left it the night before when I’d been checking emails, going through some paperwork for Nash and meaning to get back to Zane to congratulate him on starting the rock band and politely decline his offer to join. My guitars sat in the corner on their stands, except the acoustic, which stood leaning against the foot of bed, where I’d left it after playing Osceola to sleep. My wallet lay on the bureau, open to reveal my I.D. and credit card. The only thing missing was the cash.
Uma had balls, I’d give her that.
I sank onto the edge of the bed and looked down at the little person curled against my chest, her fingers clutching my shirt. My baby. My heart.
“Guess it’s just you and me now, kid,” I whispered, brushing her hair off her forehead. She looked up at me, and her face broke into a big, wet, toothless grin.
April
forty-four
Laney
“Are you still planning to go to Iowa next fall?” Blair asked at breakfast one warm spring morning. It was the first day she’d set the plates outside on the veranda, and I had joined her after a morning ride.
“Of course,” I said, sliding a poached egg onto my toast. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’m glad,” Blair said. “That’s all. I know how hard the last year has been for you.”
“Don’t worry, Mom, I’m not going to be a bum or live with my parents for the rest of my life. I’ll be out of your hair by August.”
Blair reached across the table and took my hand. “I may not always say it, dear, but I’m proud of you. You’ve handled yourself better than anyone could expect a girl to. The bridge club was talking about it just the other day, and we all think you showed real grace in the whole situation.”
I smiled sadly and turned my hand to link it with hers. “Well, I’m glad at least my heart breaks gracefully from the outside. It’s pretty ugly on the inside.”
“I know that, dear,” Blair said.
I chewed my toast for a minute. “You know, I’m not sure I want to be known as the kind of girl who handles a breakup with class. That’s like being a woman who can take a punch. I don’t think that’s anything to be proud of.”
Blair pushed her plate aside. “You’ve very brave, Laney. I hope you know how proud that makes me.”
“No, brave is going to Paris by yourself to work on a fashion show. Not hiding in your parents’ house because a boy broke your heart yet again.”
“Opening yourself to love is always an act of bravery,” Blair said. “And doing it after you’ve had your heart broken is doubly brave. It takes a whole hell of a lot more guts to do that than to take a punch.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t feel brave. It feels like I was a sucker once again.”
“Love does make us feel weak,” Blair said. “That’s why it’s brave. Not everyone is willing to make themselves weak for another person. Sometimes it takes more courage to be weak than it does to be strong.”
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Of course, dear,” Blair said, pulling her plate in front of her again. “I stopped by to see Othal Darling yesterday.”
“That’s nice.”
“He’s still hanging in there,” Blair said. “His hospice nurse even left. Brody swears that baby of his has healing powers.”
Since the spring thaw, I had been doing better myself. The long winter had frozen me, broken me, but all the pieces of ice were now melting into one serene pool inside me. I was going to be okay. Maybe not brave or graceful, but okay.
“You know that girl left him,” Blair said.
My head snapped up. “What? When?”
“A while back,” Blair said casually, spreading jam on her English muffin like she hadn’t been hiding a huge secret that could change my life. “Three weeks, maybe a month. He’s been taking care of that baby all by himself. Virginia says he refuses to hire a nanny.”
“Why?”
“You know Brody,” Blair said with an indulgent smile, as if he were her son. “He’s always been stubborn. Same as you. I imagine he wants to prove himself, though to whom, I can’t imagine.” She arched an eyebrow at me before taking a bite.
“That’s so sad,” I said faintly. I remembered Uma’s protestations, the ones no one had listened to—that she wasn’t interested in Brody, that she didn’t want to be a mother. Everyone had told her she’d change her mind. Eventually, she must have had enough of it, and done the only thing she could do to make them take her seriously.
“Tragic,” Blair said. “Virginia says she just up and left in the middle of the night. Didn’t even leave a note. Just—poof!—vanished.”
“I wonder if she’s going to sell her story,” I mused. By some miracle, no one had found out about the baby, Brody Villines’s secret love child. Although love child seemed the wrong term for the situation. I’d seen no love between him and Uma. But eventually, someone was going to find out he had a baby. They had to. No matter how private he was, people could find his houses in Los Angeles, in the Hamptons, in Kentucky.
That was another secret only me and a few other knew. Even Brody’s brothers didn’t know that he’d bought the family estate from his parents. They’d agreed to sell it to him, not leave it in the will, when he’d given them the money to reclaim their lost acreage and restore the estate to its original size. But his parents would continue to run it and live there as long as they pleased, which would be until his mother’s dying breath, if I knew Virginia. I also knew that Brody would never move back in with his parents. What would happen when Othal passed away? Where would he go then?
“Maybe I’ll stop by and visit,” I said lightly, although my stomach knotted at the prospect. Still, it was the good, neighborly thing to do. After all, Laney Tucker was a good girl.
* * *
Maybe it was still a little chilly for the sun dress I chose to wear to Brody’s. And maybe I spent a few more minutes on my makeup than was strictly necessary for a casual visit to an ailing old man and a baby. But no one could fault me for wanting my ex to see me looking nice. After all, I was a pretty girl with my whole life in front of me. A girl going to grad school in the fall, still young and free enough to pull off the dress that showed a little more leg than I would have shown at church.
I slid my Camaro through the gate at Othal’s place and parked on the gravel drive in front of his garage. Again, I noticed
the lack of Brody’s H2. Maybe he’d gotten rid of it now that he was a family man.
The flower boxes in the windows were bursting with grape hyacinths, courtesy of my mother’s visits I was sure.
Standing on the front porch, waiting for someone to answer my knock, I felt suddenly silly. My good mood had begun to darken with memories of the long, dreadful days on the tour bus. But then a shadow passed behind the frosted pane beside the door, and after a second, Brody was standing before me in sock feet, jeans, and a royal blue cashmere sweater that made me want to run my hands over the muscles I could just make out through the fabric. Just to see how soft it was, of course.
“If it isn’t Laney Tucker, in the flesh,” he said. “Aren’t you a cheerful sight. You look just like a flower in bloom.”
“Why thank you, Brody Villines,” I said, smiling up at him.
“I wasn’t expecting company,” he said. “Your mother was just here yesterday. So if you’ll excuse the mess…” Opening the door wider, he gestured for me to come inside. “Would you like something to drink?”
“I’m okay, thank you.”
“I’m afraid everyone else is asleep,” he said with an apologetic smile. “Nap time.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I can wait. I mean, we’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Sure,” he said, eyeing me up and down in a way that made my skin tremble. “If you’re okay being basically alone with me.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe I could use that drink,” I said. “Is there a tall drink of water anywhere around here?”
He grinned and shook his head. “What are you doing, Laney Tucker?”
“I’m just dropping in on a neighbor. Isn’t that what friends do?”
“Sure,” he said, still grinning. “Come on, I’ll get you some water.”
I followed him into the kitchen, where he poured two glasses of water and pulled out a barstool at the island for me. After sitting, I smoothed my skirt over my thighs. I did not miss the flicker of Brody’s eyes following the movement, then lingering on my legs an extra beat.
“So,” he said, sliding up onto the stool next to mine and resting his elbows on the island. “How you been?”
I tried not to stare at the muscles in his broad shoulders. Had he been working out?
“I’ve been well,” I said. “I’m starting grad school in the fall, so I’ve been looking into apartments around Des Moines.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep.” I took a swallow of the cold water, trying to quell the sparks threatening to start a fire inside me. “What about you? What’s it like being a single dad?”
“Hard as hell,” he said. “I think I found a grey hair the other day.”
“Well, it looks good on you. The dad thing, I mean, not the grey hair.”
He laughed and leaned closer, like he was about to tell me a secret. “Since we’re friends now, I should probably tell you, I’ve never had a lady friend before.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
“You might have to help me out here,” he said. “Do friends do this?” He leaned in and nipped the tendon on the side of my neck.
I let out a yelp of surprise and swatted at him. “No,” I said, my face suddenly hot. “They most certainly do not.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” He smirked at me for a second, his gorgeous mouth twisting in that infuriating way. God, the things that mouth had done to me. Things I wanted it to do again.
“What about this?” he asked, leaning in again, cupping my cheek in his palm while his lips whispered over my other cheek until they met my ear. “Is this allowed?”
I sucked in a breath, trying not to show him all my cards at once. Not wanting him to know that when his lips brushed across my earlobe, ripples of heat radiated across my skin. “Definitely not,” I whispered, closing my eyes, leaning my face into his palm to give him access to my throat.
“Then let’s try something else,” he said, his lips trailing down my neck. He slipped off his stool and stood over me, tugging the strap of my sundress aside and kissing along my collarbone. His lips opened, and his tongue touched my skin. My body responded with an involuntary shudder of longing. Three months. I’d been good for three months. How had I gone three years without this? I was so hot I thought I’d explode.
“Brody,” I said, grabbing his wrist when he started to pull my dress down further. “We’re in the kitchen. Someone might hear us.”
“They’re sleeping,” he said, his silky voice roughened with desire.
“What if we wake them up?”
“Then you’d better be quiet,” he said, his mouth dipping to my cleavage. Gentle kisses trailed along the swell of my breast until he curled his fingers under the edge of my bra and drew it down. His teeth scraped against my nipple, and I gasped, looking around to be sure we were alone.
“People eat in here,” I whispered.
“Not a problem,” he said, giving my nipple one quick suck.
I gasped and clamped my knees together against the ache swelling between my legs. My fingers curled around the edge of the island. I should stop him. We weren’t even dating. But God, I wanted this.
Brody laughed softly and parted my knees. Dropping to the floor between them, he smiled up at me and then slid his hands up my thighs in one quick motion, all the way up, pushing my dress over my hips. As he grasped my underwear, I lifted my hips, and he tugged them down to my ankles.
I had been so good these last three months. Hell, I’d been good my whole life. Just once, couldn’t I be bad?
Brody’s breath was coming fast, as fast as mine. Discarding my underwear on the floor, he wrenched my knees open and buried his face between my thighs. This time, there was no teasing, no playful kisses. He sucked and licked and bit at me, his tongue roughly taking what he wanted. I gripped the edges of the island harder, biting my lip to hold in my cry of bure bliss at his demanding treatment as he forced his tongue into my slick entrance. He yanked me forward to the very edge of the barstool, and I let my head fall back, giving in to the waves of pleasure coursing through me as he fucked me with his tongue.
He mouthed a wordless growl of pleasure against me, and I gasped, hardly able to contain myself at the vibration it sent through me. His fingers spread my folds, and his tongue stroked from my entrance to my swollen clit in one long, hard motion. He pulsed the flat of his tongue against the sensitive bud before he began circling it with just the tip, making shudders of heat wrack my body with each motion. I opened my mouth to cry out, but his hand clamped over my mouth.
“You’ll wake the baby,” he said, then closed his lips gently around my pearl. With the gentlest pressure, he began to suck, softly at first, then harder, until I was breathing so fast I thought I might faint.
Just when I was about to grab his head and smother him in me, his tongue stilled, keeping gentle pressure on my throbbing clit. He drove two fingers into me at once, deep and hard. This time, I couldn’t hold back. My whole body arched, and I cried out as the climax rocked through me. My hands lost their grip on the island, and I clamped one around the back of his neck, pulling him in as he thrust his fingers rhythmically into my tight opening, his lips still tormenting my clit with pleasure. I cried out again, grasping for the edge of the island but succeeding in upending a glass of water instead.
His fingers caressed the magic spot inside me, and I lost all control. My legs started jerking in little spasms, my hips rising as his tongue ran along the edge of my entrance, stretched around his fingers. My walls clenched in waves around his fingers, pulsing along their length as my clit throbbed against his tongue over and over.
I didn’t know I was speaking until I heard my voice echoing around the kitchen, chanting, “Oh God, Brody, oh God.” At last, the final shudders finished wracking my body, leaving me dazed and halfway embarrassed. Laney Tucker did not lose control easily.
Slowly, Brody slid his fingers from me and stood. Upstairs, I heard the first mewling cries of the baby
. “I’m so sorry,” I said, mortified at my inability to stay quiet during that orgasm.
But holy fuck, that orgasm…
“It think it’s safe to say you woke the baby,” he said, picking up the glass I’d broken.
“It’s your fault,” I said, snatching my wet underwear off the floor.
“Hey,” he said, his hand falling on my waist, stopping me. “I’m kidding.”
I drew on my underwear despite the wetness, avoiding his eyes.
“Besides,” he said with a grin. “It was totally worth it.”
I gave a shaky laugh. “For me.”
“Oh, for me, too,” he said. “Trust me on that one. You taste like sunshine over the sea.”
I could feel heat rising to my cheeks. “I should… I mean, Othal’s probably awake, and…” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Do you think he heard us?”
Brody grinned and grabbed a towel off the stove. “I have no doubt.” He tossed me the towel. “Hey, will you wipe that up real quick while I grab the baby? If I let her get herself worked up, it takes forever for her to stop.”
Without waiting for an answer, he ducked out of the kitchen. A second later, I heard his feet padding up the stairs. I wanted to leave the mess for him to clean up and run away in shame, but even now, I couldn’t do something so rude. After all, I’d broken the glass, and he had his hands full. The least I could do was clean up my own mess.
Just as I’d finished tossing the glass shards in the trashcan and wringing out the towel, Brody appeared in the doorway, the baby sitting snugly in the crook of his elbow. “Hey, thanks,” he said, then winked at me. “Teamwork.”
“I should probably go,” I said, my face warming again. Just looking at him made my heart flip and my lips tug into a smile. “I mean, I’d love to stay and talk to Othal, but I’m not sure I can face him just now.”
“Eh, the TV’s always on, and he’s not wearing his hearing aids,” Brody said. “I’m sure you’re fine. Unless you want to stay and experiment on me with one of your Pinterest recipes…” The hopeful look on his face nearly broke my heart all over again.