Chapter 20
CHAPTER
TWENTY
brOOKS
I’m so fucking annoyed I jump right back onto the ATV and head up to the ranch house, where the bachelor and bachelorette parties have merged and are still in full swing. Bikini-clad women dance by the pool sipping cocktails. Shorts clad men attempt to capture their eyes.
But I only have eyes – very narrow ones – for one person. And he’s not here.
“Brooks! Come get a drink,” Grant slurs.
“Do you know where Will is?” I ask him, my jaw tight.
“Will? I don’t know.” He looks around. “Jemima is over there,” he says, pointing at a group of women sitting in the hot tub.
And although I dislike this woman as much as I dislike her boyfriend – for hurting Emma – I head over there, anyway.
“I’m looking for Will,” I tell Jemima. Her perfectly drawn-on eyebrows shoot up.
“I don’t know where he is,” she says.
“You said he was playing pool in the house,” her friend slurs out. Jemima shoots her a dirty look.
“Thanks,” I mutter, turning on my heel.
“Wait! Don’t hurt him!” I hear splashing as Jemima attempts to get out of the hot tub. But I’m already walking away, because my blood is hotter than the water in the hot tub right now.
The ranch house is quieter, but there are still enough people inside to give me strange looks as I storm up the stupidly long hallway to the pool room. I remember seeing it as I was taken to the library to talk to my brothers. That seems like a hundred days ago.
But it was yesterday. Which is damn hard to believe because so much has changed since then.
I got engaged, for one thing.
And I’ve found out that being a couple isn’t so bad when the other party is someone like Emma Robbins.
Okay, when the other party is Emma Robbins. Because there’s something about her.
Will looks up as soon as I barge through the door. He’s holding a pool cue.
“I see Jemima is feeling better,” I say, my voice tight.
“Ah, yeah.” He gives a fake smile. “Miscommunication. She’s fine now.”
“Excellent. In that case, I’d like a word.”
He blows out a mouthful of air like he knows he’s in trouble. And he is, because my body is vibrating with anger.
“I’m in the middle of a game.”
“You either come out now, or I drag you out,” I say, my voice low.
He hesitates for a moment, as though he can’t decide which is the better option. And then he sighs, putting his cue in the rack. “I’ll be back.”
Like before, I don’t wait for him to follow me, I just storm out, to the front of the house this time because it’s the only place where there aren’t people loitering. Sam watches, but says nothing, as I wrench the front door open and hold it for Will.
He walks through it silently.
When we’re on the step I close the door and walk down the stairs to the gravel drive.
“Where are we going?” Will asks.
“Where we can’t be heard.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to talk here.” He flashes me his teeth. “It feels safer.”
“Yeah, well you shouldn’t feel safe, you little shit,” I grunt at him. “What the fuck were you thinking, upsetting my girl?”
“She shouldn’t be your girl. You hadn’t even told her the truth about you.” Will folds his arms across his chest. He has this smug look on his face that makes me want to smash it.
I take a deep breath. I’m at a wedding. I can’t smash anything.
Instead I take a step toward him, my jaw tight. He takes a step back. So I take another step and so does he, like we’re dancing not facing each other off.
Then his back hits the front door.
I reach out and grab his collar. Alarm washes over his face.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” I tell him, my voice thick. “You don’t go near Emma again.”
“I’ll do whatever I want,” he taunts.
My grip tightens. “You fucked another woman in front of her. You broke her heart. I’m trying to fix it here.”
“You’re not doing a good job if you’re lying to her.”
I wince, because he doesn’t know how close to the truth he is. “We’re here for two more days. If you even look her damn way, I’m going to make sure the next time you smile your teeth are in your ass.”
“You think you’re a big man, huh?” he says.
“I think I’m a better man than you are.”
For the first time he winces. “I did her wrong. I know that. But she doesn’t deserve for you to do her wrong too.”
Is he being serious right now? “I’m not doing her wrong.”
“Then why did you lie to her?”
I open my mouth to respond then shake my head. I’m never going to win this argument. Mostly because I’m as much of a piece of shit as he is. “It’s none of your business. And I’m serious. Stay away. You’ve done enough damage.”
“I’ll stay away if you promise to treat her right.”
I blink, because what the hell? How many people have demanded that of me this week? Her granddad, her friends, now her ex? Jesus.
“Honey!” Jemima shouts out as she comes running around the front of the house, wincing as her feet hit the gravel. “Has he hurt you? Want me to call the cops?” Then she lets out a howl. She must’ve stepped on a sharp piece of stone.
I roll my eyes. “Go sort your girlfriend out,” I tell Will, letting go of his shirt and stepping back. “And leave mine alone.”
“Fuck you,” Will mutters, but he looks chagrined at least. And I’m pretty sure he’s got the message. “And she’s your fiancée, not your girlfriend.”
I’m still fuming a few minutes later when I get back to where the ATVs are. I take a deep breath, because I don’t want Emma seeing me like this, but it doesn’t help.
So I take out my phone and call the only other person who knows how to deal with my mood swings.
Linc answers almost right away. I think he must be in his living room, and the kids have to be watching television because I can hear the high-pitched sound of TV characters in the background.
“How’s the wedding going?” he asks. “No, Rowan, we don’t put Legos up baby’s noses, do we?”
I blink. “The wedding is going… not well.” Understatement of the year.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I let out a sigh. Because I really don’t want to be spilling my guts to my big brother. Not because I don’t trust him, but because I’ve always been the person who can manage my own emotions.
But I’m also a hair’s breadth away from storming back into the house and smashing my fist into Will’s face.
“I need you to talk me down,” I tell him.
“Oh boy.” He sounds almost excited. “What’s happening?”
Linc always loves drama. But he’s also one of the easiest people to talk to. If I’m going to tell anybody, it’ll have to be him. And for once he’s quiet as I fill him in on the past few days. The near misses with Emma. My confrontation with Will. The fact that my knuckles are still feeling trigger happy.
I tell him ever since we started talking over the phone and by message a few weeks ago it’s felt like my world has finally got some light in it again.
“Oh,” I say at the end. “Everybody also thinks we’re engaged because our cart driver saw me ask her a question and got the wrong idea.”
“What? Jesus,” he says when I finally take a breath. “And they say I’m the drama queen.”
“You are. I’m just borrowing your crown for a few days.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Why do you need to do anything?” Linc asks me. “Apart from going back to the yurt – which is a great name for a tent by the way – and telling Emma that you’re falling in love with her.”
“What?” I frown. “Where did you get that from?”
“I just spent the last fifteen minutes listening to you talk about her. You’re in love with her.”
“I’m not.” I shake my head. “I don’t do love, remember?”
“Of course you do.” Linc lets out a huff. “Just because you got hurt doesn’t mean you get to opt out of it for good. You’re not a monk, you’re a man. You have needs.”
“Can we not talk about sex?” I ask him, my voice a growl.
“I’m not talking about sex.” He sighs. “Not all needs have to do with sex, you know. I’m talking about the need to love, to be loved. To be the center of somebody’s world and have them at the core of yours. Don’t you want that?”
I swallow. “I can’t have it. You know that.”
“Because you can’t have kids? That’s bullshit.”
“Is it?” I ask him. “Remember how desperate you were to have kids? What would you have done if you and Tessa couldn’t have any?”
“We would have worked it out like grownups. There are other ways to have kids than that. Insemination, adoption, whatever. Or deciding to not have kids, that’s an option too.”
My chest feels weirdly tight. “I don’t even know if I want kids,” I admit. “That’s a deal breaker for most women.”
“Is it a deal breaker for Emma?” he asks.
I blink. “I have no idea. And it doesn’t matter. All this stuff… it’s just pretend. It’s not supposed to be serious.”
“Fuck’s sake, man, for a guy who’s so good at business, you’re terrible at relationships. Talk to her. Tell her everything. Tell her you like her.”
I let out a long breath. The thought of throwing myself off a cliff feels better than exposing my feelings.
“You still there?” Linc asks me.
“Yeah, just about.”
“You won’t hit him, will you? Because I just bought a great little swing set for the kids so I can’t afford the bail money.”
My mouth twitches because nobody loves their kids more than Linc loves his. Okay, all my brothers are the same.
“I don’t even know if she likes me,” I say.
“Of course she likes you. She’s been kissing you. Touching you. The woman’s falling for you. So for God’s sake please stop talking to me and go catch her.”
I blink, the words slowly sinking in. I’m an idiot. There are no two ways about it. I’m falling for a woman who howls at the moon, who learns about sex positions from the karma sutra. Who looks at me like I’m a god and I thought she was just an excellent actress.
But what if it’s real?
What if I end up hurting her?
“I have to go,” Linc says. “Abigail just picked up another Lego brick. Talk to her, for your own sake.”
He hangs up and for a moment I stand there, thinking about everything. About the way I missed her so goddamn much today. The way I panicked when I thought she was sick.
The way she looked so upset when I stormed out of the yurt.
And I turn on my feet and practically run back to her.
EMMA
I’m standing at the door to the yurt, deciding whether I should finally go after him when it opens, almost knocking me off my feet.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” Brooks reaches for me, his hands curling around my waist to steady me. His eyes roam over my face, as though to check that I’m okay.
This man is always checking that I’m okay. That’s what I’m realizing. And I like it, way more than I should.
I also enjoy staring into his eyes. I feel like I’m lost and found at the same time. The way they narrow slightly then dip to look at my mouth sends a shiver down my spine.
Neither of us says a word for what seems like an eternity. He just holds me and looks into my eyes, and I stare right back. I can feel a pulse steadily drumming in my throat. Can feel the warmth of his hands through the cover up I’m wearing over my bikini.
I can feel the need for him in every single cell of my body.
“Are you okay?” I whisper to him.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” His expression is softer than I’ve ever seen it before. There’s a vulnerability there that touches me deeply.
“Did you hit Will?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I wanted to.”
“Because of Lianne?” I ask, feeling my stomach tighten. “Because he talked to her?”
Brooks frowns. “No, not because of that. I don’t care if he talks to Lianne. But I do care if he hurts you.”
How many times has this man been my knight in shining armor? How many times has he tried to take care of me?
I’ve spent a lifetime having to do it for myself. I’m not used to it, yet I could definitely get used to it.
Running the tip of my tongue over my dry lips, I reach for him, touching the strong plains of his chest through his shirt. He isn’t wearing a tie, his sleeves are rolled up. I want this man more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
His thumbs caress my skin as he pulls me closer to him, then he slides his hands down my ass, to the tops of my thighs, where the fabric of my cover up barely skims them. The contact of his warm palms against my skin makes me gasp. My body clenches as he splays his hands out against my thighs, then curls them until his fingertips graze the sensitive flesh right below the core of me.
“Brooks…”
“I’m sorry I walked out,” he says, still caressing me. I feel my whole body heat at his touch. “I’m sorry I went to Will instead of talking to you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Lianne. Or about me… not being able to…”
“I don’t care about that,” I whisper to him. “I just want you to be honest with me.”
He swallows, his throat undulating. I feel the weirdest urge to kiss him there. “I find talking difficult.”
“No kidding.”
A smile ghosts his lips. I reach out to trace it with my fingertips. He exhales slowly, the warmth of his breath soft against my skin.
“If you’re looking for honesty, I want you,” he tells me, and the thickness of his voice sends another shot of heat between my thighs. “Like I’ve wanted nothing else in my life.”
From the way he’s staring at me, I can feel the truth of his words.
“I want you too.”
Before I can say anything else, his mouth descends upon mine. There’s nothing gentle about it. We’re both way too pent up for that. I practically climb him like a tree as his lips plunder mine, his hands cupping my ass as I wrap my thighs around his waist.
I’m barely wearing anything. Just a string bikini and a thin cover up that has already ridden up around my waist. I feel the buckle of his belt against my stomach, the roughness of his wool pants against my inner thighs.
And I can feel him. Right there. He’s so hard and I’m so achy, and it’s like nature takes over any logical thought as I roll my hips against him, my fingers tangling in his hair.
When we finally pull apart – mostly because my lungs are on fire and in need of a desperate shot of oxygen – we’re both breathless. There’s a fire behind his eyes that matches the heat inside me.
“I came back to talk to you,” he says. Not that he’s rushing to say much. He’s too busy tracing the line of my bikini bottoms, his fingers playing with the strings.
“We can talk after,” I tell him breathlessly.
“After what?” There’s that little smile again. I want to see it more. I want to hear him laugh. I want to be the one to make him do it.
I catch his gaze. There’s so much emotion there it makes my chest contract. This man likes me. He’s seen me at my worst and he likes me.
And I like him too. So much. And I need him more than I’ve needed anything in my life.
“After everything,” I tell him. Because that’s what I want.
Everything he has to give. And maybe more.