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Working Back

Page 19

by BJ Harvey


  He glides back up against me, skin on skin—when did he get naked? His hands delve under my top, making quick work of my bra, then it vanishes along with my T-shirt to a destination unknown since my eyes are still shut, just like I was told.

  I bite my lip as his hands roam my skin, slow and soft kneads of my shoulders. He runs his palms down my arms and over my hips, then works his way back up my stomach and cups my breasts. When he rolls my nipples between his fingers in a dual attack, a moan escapes my lips, and my thighs clench tightly together.

  “You can open them now, baby,” he hums in my ear. I slowly lift my eyelids. My breath catches at the huge claw-foot tub filled with steaming-hot water. The room is bathed in soft flickering amber light coming from at least a dozen lit candles scattered around the room.

  Turning my head, I see a huge frameless glass shower in the opposite corner of the room. The large his-and-hers basins and vanity take up the wall beside us, azure blue and white hexagon tiles framing them, a feature in contrast to the white subway tiles that line the rest of the wet area.

  I cover my mouth with my hands, happy tears stinging my eyes. Turning around in Bry’s arms, I lift my chin to look at him. “It’s gorgeous.”

  His gaze softens. “It is,” he says, tilting his head and brushing his lips against mine. “Now that you’ve seen it, I want to test out the tub with my beautiful wife.”

  “Test it?” I ask, waggling my brows.

  He chuckles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “All in good time, baby. But first, let’s see if it’s big enough for two.” He drops his arms from around my back, links his fingers with mine, and leads us to the edge of the bath.

  “Are you trying to woo me, Bry? Because I’ll let you in on a little secret,” I say, leaning in close. “I’m a sure thing.”

  “Maybe I’m not,” he says, quirking a brow. I burst out laughing, loving how soft and relaxed his features are. There’s no stress or tension to be seen anywhere on his face. I wonder what’s happened to cause that, but I’m certainly not complaining.

  “Liar,” I whisper.

  He chuckles and touches his mouth to mine again before stepping back and giving me a gentle push.

  After lifting one leg and then the other over the side of the bath, he slowly drops his arms onto the edge and lowers himself down with a satisfied groan that echoes off the walls.

  I watch his body disappear under the steaming water. I stand above him as he leans his head back against the curved cast-iron lip, his eyes shut in a picture-perfect expression of relaxation.

  “Are you gonna stand there and perv, or are you going to get in and join me?” he asks, his voice dropping seductively low.

  “That depends if you were planning on putting on a show for me.”

  A salacious smile curves his lips, his face turning my way and his brown eyes opening to lock on mine. “Come and join me, baby. We’ve got important things to talk about.”

  My brows lift. “And these important things need to be talked about while we’re naked and wet?”

  “I’ve heard it’s the only way to discuss such things.” He lazily takes in my body—pausing at the interesting parts—before reaching my face and holding his hand out for me.

  Not looking away, I slide my palm in his and step into the water, easing my body down on top of his until my forearms are propped up on his chest and we’re face to face. His arms wrap around my back, his hands coming to rest on the crest of my ass.

  “So, this is a nice surprise to come home to,” I say.

  He runs his hand along my back then slowly down again. “I found this bath leaning up against the back of the garage. Jamie and I got quotes to restore it and then decided it would be a great addition.” He lifts his head and kisses the tip of my nose before resting it on the bath’s edge again. “And knowing I’d get to surprise you was just the icing on the cake.”

  My lips curve. “You definitely succeeded, on all counts.”

  “Good,” he says with a warm smile. I push my toes against the end of the bath, bringing my face close to his.

  “I appreciate the added touch with the candles.” I dip my chin and trail kisses down his throat. “And the planning to have the bath poured for when I got home…” I scrape my teeth against the sensitive skin below his ear, coaxing a guttural growl out of him.

  His hands come around me to frame my jaw, his thumbs pressing up, forcing my eyes back to his. “While I love your intention, can we hit pause just for a second so we can talk? I haven’t been overly forthcoming with my thoughts and feelings of late, and I’d like to change that…”

  My lips part and his softening gaze tells me he doesn’t miss the hitch of my breath. “I—”

  “You’re too astute to miss anything, so don’t say you didn’t sense me holding back ’cause I’d never believe you,” He narrows his eyes.

  “Okay. I won’t.” I smirk. My heart hammers away against his, my nerves reaching fever point in anticipation as to what he may—or may not—say. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, but you’re owed a long-overdue confession from your husband who has been scared to give himself completely to you until now.”

  My chest seizes. This is everything I’ve been waiting for. I didn’t know when—or if—I’d ever get it freely, or whether I’d need to force it out of him.

  “So…” he says, his hand smoothing my hair back, “when you first left, I was hurt.” I nod and sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “I went from never questioning that we’d be together to wondering whether I’d misread everything. From knowing I’d been lucky enough to meet my soul mate at eight years old to asking myself whether I’d read you—us—and everything we’d talked about and planned for completely wrong.”

  “Bry…”

  “I never wanted or even contemplated holding you back from doing anything. I proposed that night content in the knowledge that if you got the internship in Australia, I would’ve let you go to follow your dreams. But I would’ve always been waiting here—ready for us to continue our life together—when you came back.” He takes a deep breath but doesn’t break eye contact. “When you said no, I was heartbroken. When you didn’t take my calls or return my messages, I was angry. And when I came back home after graduating, I realized I was completely lost without you. Even the idea of you never coming back—of there never being an us again—scared me more than I ever cared to admit.”

  My chest hurts at his words.

  “I made a promise to myself that when—or if—you came back, I’d be ready for you. Whether that was to give it another shot or to find a way for us to move on as friends, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I wasn’t going to stop living my life, but I would be ready for whatever happened when I saw you again.” His eyes drift over my shoulder, but I want—no, need—him to continue. I have to hear this from him because this has been a long twelve years.

  I reach up and touch my hand to his cheek, bringing him back to me.

  His hands resume their slow glides up and down my back. “When Jamie told me you’d accepted their wedding invitation, I knew it was now or never. So I set about putting my long-standing plan in place. I applied to take a sabbatical. I talked to Jamie about what our next plans were for the business and found this house, and then decided that I would ask you the same question I asked you the night you left, knowing your answer would be a make-or-break moment for both of us.”

  “Did you expect me to say no?” I ask.

  His eyes turn cautious. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure what you’d say. I just knew that I would never be able to move on without having tried.”

  “Bry…”

  “And then you said you’d do it and I was shocked, and I was a bit of an asshole because you deserve better than a City Hall ceremony where you had to get your own way there. I didn’t even bring you home with me on our wedding night because I thought we needed our own space to process the enormity of what we’d done,” he says, regret written all over his face. “I di
dn’t even share a room with you straight away.”

  “You soon changed that though.”

  “Yeah, but there’s been a part of me that still didn’t trust what my heart and gut were telling me. I didn’t listen to what I knew the moment you said ‘I do’ and I owe you an apology for that.”

  Tears fill my eyes because my instincts were right. But now he’s holding me close and telling me everything I’ve wanted to hear—no wrecking ball required.

  “Baby, don’t cry,” he says gruffly. “I’m sorry. I truly never meant to hurt you.”

  I drop my head to his chest, sucking in a breath as I try to get myself under control. For almost three months, I’ve worked so hard to show I came back for him and only him, and now he’s telling me—of his own volition—that I succeeded in doing that. My tears are not from pain or hurt feelings—they’re from happiness and overwhelming relief that everything I thought I’d screwed up is mine again. And this time, it’s forever.

  I lift up to touch my forehead to his. “These are happy tears, I promise,” I say. “I never stopped loving you, and when I quit my job and bought that plane ticket home, my only wish was that I’d get the chance to try and win you back.”

  “You didn’t have to try. I’ve always been yours.”

  “And I’ve always been yours too,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his and leaving them there. “I’m not going anywhere unless you’re coming with me.”

  He brings his hands between us to tip my head up, his own glistening eyes locking with mine. “I’ll never hold you back, Faith. I want you to be happy, and fulfilled, and for you to have anything and everything you’ve ever wanted because that’s all I have ever wanted too.”

  “I love you so damn much,” I rasp, my heart so full it’s ready to burst.

  “I love you too. I want to build a life with you, a home, a family. I want it all… with you.” He kisses me this time, a soft and slow touch as if he’s proving every single thing he’s just told me to be true.

  By the time we pull apart, taking in some much-needed air, there’s not a doubt left in my mind. “Is this why you haven’t talked about what we’re going to do once the house sells?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And now?” I ask.

  “Now, I think we could move back to the duplex, get some money behind us, and search for our forever home to buy together—one we can renovate just for us. Maybe one like this—an ugly duckling that we can transform into a beautiful swan,” he says.

  “I do like this place. It has a real homely feel about it.”

  “Yeah. It’s really coming together better than any of us ever imagined. And that’s all because of you.”

  Having Bry confess his biggest fear to me has reaffirmed my own need to prove to him once and for all that I’m here to stay, for now, and for always. He says he knows I’m not going anywhere—and I believe him—but I want to swing that wrecking ball. He went to such extraordinary lengths to show me he still wanted what we had, and I owe it to both of us, and our future, to return the favor.

  Go big or go home, Dad used to say.

  If I can pull this off, Bryant is not gonna know what hit him. What he will know, without a shadow of a doubt, is just how much I love him.

  “So…” I say, reaching between us to wrap my fingers around his slowly hardening cock. His eyes flare, his fingertips flexing against my ass when I run my fist down to the base and back up again. “It would be a shame to waste the bath, especially since we can’t be interrupted. We can pretend it’s our wedding night and reenact how it could’ve been—”

  He growls and lifts his head, meshing his lips with mine and cutting me off. Moving his hips, he rocks me back and forth with his hands on my ass as we set about christening the bathroom.

  I mean, when the opportunity presents itself, make sure you take advantage of your naked and wet husband.

  When Bryant is the husband in question, it’s not a hardship.

  And christening the house over the following two weeks definitely isn’t a sacrifice either.

  Faith

  “Would you like to do the honors, Faith?” Jamie says, appearing in front of me and holding out a light bulb. Ezra and Cohen stand beside him.

  “Huh?” I stare at him like he’s grown two heads.

  Bryant chuckles and gives my waist a squeeze. “Babycakes, at the end of each flip, someone screws in the last light bulb. Then we eat and drink and celebrate. It’s a tradition.”

  “Oh,” I reply. I look back to Jamie. “But why me? Shouldn’t Bry get to do it?”

  “How many biologists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” Cohen asks.

  “How many, Co?” Jax asks, joining us.

  “Nobody knows because Bry and Faith can’t decide who’s going to do it,” he says.

  I snort while the rest of them chuckle.

  “So Co,” Jamie says, looking around the group before returning his eyes to the youngest Cook. “We’ve got a proposition for you.”

  Baby Cook’s brows bunch together. “Yes…”

  “Our offer on the three-flat property has been accepted. The owner called me yesterday.”

  “Okay. You know I can’t take a break like twin one, and twin two did. Maybe in a few years but not right now,” Cohen explains.

  “Yeah, we know. But you’ve been grumbling about living with the parents for a while now, and we were all thinking that you could live in one of the flats while we all work on it together. It wouldn’t affect your job, but it would give us someone on-site,” Jamie explains. “One tenant has already moved out, so that gives us a place to start. The other tenant has yet to give an indication either way as to whether she’ll stay and we renovate around her, or if she’d like to leave.”

  “Okay. So where is it?” Cohen asks.

  When Jamie rattles off the address Cohen’s eyes go wide as saucers before he shocks the shit out me and smiles… huge.

  “Yeah. I can definitely do that.” He looks at Jamie. “Did you already know it was Skye’s building?”

  Jamie grins by way of an answer. “It was Skye who put April onto the property. From there, it almost seemed like fate.”

  Now my eyes are bugging out because all of this is news to me, and now my matchmaking brain has gone into hyperdrive.

  “Jesus, Co. Don’t grin like that. It’s scary,“ Ez teases.

  “Asshole,” Co mutters, his lips curving into a smirk as he shoulder-bumps my brother. “A change is as good as a holiday, right? And I need to get out of home. I need my space, and Mom and Dad definitely do.”

  I study my youngest brother-in-law, my compulsive need to fix things sparking to life. I wanna know what’s going on with him and want to help him work towards wherever he needs to be. If it’s got anything to do with his love life though, I’ll be tagging Faith in. Cohen hasn’t had the best track record with women—and that’s just talking about the ones I know about.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t needed therapy, living with our deviant parents,” Bry says with a laugh.

  “Right?” Jax nods in agreement. “Last week I figured I’d be safe just popping in to raid their fridge and I—”

  “Enough said,” Co says with a sigh.

  “Please tell me Marcy and Rick have at least learned to close the curtains. I’m still scarred by their unfortunate lesson in human sexuality when I was seventeen and still living at home,” I ask with a wince.

  The guys all shudder, Jamie grimacing.

  “I heard the word sexuality. What did we miss?” Ronnie asks, entering the room arm in arm with April, having obviously finished their self-guided tour of the shack now that it’s finished.

  “This place is amazing, by the way,” April says. “So different from when we first came to view it.” She sidles up to Jamie, who kisses the top of her head and pulls her in tight.

  Jax claims Ronnie, moving her in front of him and wrapping his arm around her waist, his hand resting on her not-yet-showing baby belly. “This is
the kind of place I could see us living in, Ken,” she says, looking up at her husband.

  “Maybe we should buy it,” he says with a gentle grin so soft and sweet I wouldn’t have believed it possible in the past.

  “Yeah, about that,” Jamie says, sneaking a glance down at April. “I’ve already had an offer on this place so I guess we can toast this place being sold now too.”

  “What?” Bry splutters. “Already?”

  “Yeah. They saw it, they liked it, they put an offer in, and they bought it,” Jamie says like it’s no big deal.

  Bry looks at me. “We’ve got our plan. We just might need to give the tenants an update. If the timing’s not quite right, we could always bunk in with Co or stay with one of our par—”

  My gaze turns razor sharp. “Hell no. If they’re deviants, then God knows what we are.”

  “Sinners?” Ez says, with a shit-eating grin.

  Bry shoots my brother a devious smirk. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Dude, we had this talk years ago. I do not want to hear about that shit. Doesn’t matter if Faith is eighteen or eighty.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “All right. Are we doing this thing or what?” Jamie asks, bringing us back full circle.

  “Faith?” Bry asks, tightening his arm around my waist and looking down at me.

  “You do it,” I reply. “You started this—now I want you to finish it.”

  His eyes flash as he doesn’t miss my double-meaning.

  “Celebrate now in public, later in private?” he murmurs, dropping his lips to mine.

  “Sounds good to me.” I touch the tip of my tongue to his mouth then pull away, stepping back with a slow-growing smile. Bry narrows his eyes, shaking his head at me before reaching out for the light bulb.

  He moves to the center of the room and climbs the stepladder. Reaching above his head, he shoots me a soft shot-to-the-heart look before screwing in the bulb and lowering himself back to the ground.

  “So that’s house six in the books,” Jax says, looking straight at Jamie. “Still happy you’re not driving boats for a living?”

 

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