Chapter 24
“Like…lives-next-door-to-Jameson, Mrs. Anderson?”
“Yes. Taught us all seventh-grade science. Five-foot-four, blonde hair, blue eyes. Takes her steaks pink in the middle. How many Mrs. Andersons do you know?”
I choked on a laugh before glancing over my shoulder. This was not subtle. We were staring like a couple of lunatics. Sure enough, retired Mistyvale Middle science teacher, and Jameson’s next-door neighbor, Mrs. Anderson, was standing at the hostess stand waiting to be served. Shaking my head, I muttered, “What are the damn odds? Man, it’s a small fucking world. A country between us, and we end up in the same pizza parlor?”
“What the fuck is she doing here? Chicago isn’t exactly vacation central, especially this time of year.”
“I thought Alex landed in Wisconsin.” Her kids were years ahead of me in school. Her youngest son, Alex, was three years older than El’s oldest sister, Jeanne, and the reason she’d originally gone out with her now ex-husband, Lincoln–good man, just shitty circumstances.
“Me too.”
“And why is she out alone?” I straightened, more than a bit irritated. “Who lets their seventy-year-old mother walk Chicago streets alone?” As if on cue, Alex and his wife came in behind her, a baby carrier tucked into the crook of his elbow. “Oh, look, Alex.”
“Fuck me, because one person wasn’t enough?”
I chuckled, ducking down but watching as the four of them reunited in the entryway. “What are the odds they don’t see us if we stay put?”
“Not great. What do we do?” she asked, a bit panicked. I didn’t know how to articulate it, but her nerves irritated me. I got to hold El for four days and didn’t want to spend a moment of it ticked-off, so I did my best to shake it off, opting for humor.
“Smile and wave?” I breathed back, mimicking her dramatic stage whisper.
“Christ, are you that penguin in Madagascar?”
“Why were there penguins in Madagascar?” I asked, smirking, and not remotely bothered by the current predicament. This was inevitable. Albeit, how we got away with her week back on the island only to bump into someone in Chicago, I’d never understand. “El, we’re friends. Is it so odd to be seen out together?”
“Dressed up for a date night in a city four-thousand miles away, just the two of us? Yeah. I think it’s weird. I think it’s the end of our charade if she catches us.” Her subtlety had reduced notably as she leaned over the table, gesticulating between us. Which I found hilarious, poorly hiding that fact behind my fist as I propped my elbow on the table.
Shrugging, I pressed, “So what, El?”
“What do you mean, so what?”
“What if I want to be seen with you? We just talked about telling the family. Might as well get it over with.”
She blinked, looking a little dumbfounded, before the words tumbled out. “Right. Us tell them not Mrs. Anderson and her bingo-playing biddies down at the pool hall. We won’t even have time to talk it out before it gets back to Jameson, and then all hell will break loose.”
Something about her urgency to get the hell out of dodge didn’t settle well. Frustration planted in my bones as she extended a hand across the table. I winced when I looked over my shoulder and saw the hostess marching towards the front stand to greet them.
Sensing my unwillingness to budge, El added, “We don’t even have answers to the million and one questions any Rhodes or Mistyvale busybody will hurl in our direction. Don’t you think that’s important? Don’t you think we should be prepared to explain to Rhyett and Jameson what our plan is, so they don’t beat you half to death?”
Okay. She had a point there. With a sigh, I snatched her extended hand and stood, pulling my wallet out of my back pocket with the opposite hand, fishing out a fifty, and tucking it under the short rose in a little vase on the table.
I followed El between patrons for the back hallway, shaking my head as she glanced over her shoulder to make sure we weren’t busted. Boisterous Italian music came from the speakers, which I found ironic given the very American pallet of the menu. We wound our way to the back, and with one last glance over my shoulder to scan for the Andersons, El leaned into the kitchen door.
Her grin turned maniacal before she led me through the space, head held high as if she belonged here—as if that would ward off suspicion. Much to my dismay, it did. We somehow scooted between counters and servers bellowing, “Corner!” Without causing alarm, or having rotten tomatoes lobbed our way by pissed-off chefs.
When she pushed outside into the filthy, frozen back alley, a heavy breath rushed from her lungs and she shuffled sideways to collapse into the cold brick, like we’d just had a near-scrape with death instead of a seamless escape from a near-sighting with an elderly neighbor.
“You look like you just escaped a bear, not a seventy-year-old woman,” I noted, aiming for lightheartedness and evidently missing the mark. At least, judging by the sarcastic glare she shot my direction. I reached forward to snag her dainty fingers in my hands, stepping into her space as I asked, “What are you so freaked out about? We’re going to tell everybody anyway—would it be the end of the world if we were discovered at a kick ass pizzeria?”
“I’m not ready.”
“To explain yourself to our middle school teacher? I think she knew we were endgame back then,” I chuckled. Despite the focus furrow between her brows, the whites of her eyes grew, and I shook my head. “El, you gotta talk to me here. You’re freaking me out.”
“I’m not ready to explain myself to…anyone.”
“Baby, I’m trying to be understanding, but I’d be lying if I said I was okay with that. Are you embarrassed to be with me or something?”
Pain lanced across her expression, oddly stilling the ache in my chest. “God, Brod, no.”
“Okay. Because I know we joked about it, but I don’t actually want to be your dirty little secret.” Judging by the way her jaw popped open, I’d done a shit job of hiding the edge of hurt lingering in my tone. We wasted a decade pining for each other, but deciding to make El mine was the best thing I’d done in my life. If she said ‘go’, I’d scream it from the damn rooftops. Consequences be damned.
“You’re not. I just… my family is complicated. And huge. And overwhelming.”
“I did crash in that house more nights than not for about twenty summers.” Some nights, it felt like half the high school landed at the Rhodes’ on Friday nights. But the summers turned that old house into a clown car of teenage angst and rank smelling football gear. The entire varsity team would pile in under the guise of pizza pockets and electrolytes, but I always suspected I wasn’t the only kid that needed a hug from Juniper Rhodes.
El was right about one thing though—even when it was just the family, it was still a lot to handle. “That piece, at least, I understand.”
“And this sounds ridiculously petty, even in my head, but is it so wrong that I just want you all to myself for a little while longer? Ive shared you our entire lives, Broderick. Just… for now… I want to be selfish. Please.”
Well, that was unexpectedly endearing. I grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her to me. I’d never get sick of kissing this woman. Of feeling the subtle give of her body against mine, or the moment her lips surrendered, and she melted into my hungry demands. This remarkable woman—who’d walked the globe twice over, who had CEOs eating out of her delicate palm—was asking to keep me for herself. As deeply as I wanted to come clean, to claim her publicly, as I tasted her lips and my hands traveled over her warmth in a frigid city, some part of me decided just to do what it took to keep her happy. Despite the gnawing in my gut that said this was going to bite us in the ass, I nodded and peeled away from her just as a gentle snow floated down between us.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” she said, tone slightly more chipper, although not entirely certain.
“We’re not in Mistyvale anymore, Todo. We better get out of the dark alley before trouble finds us,” I said, glancing around to ensure we were still alone and relieved to find the space empty. Her giggle dissipated the unease a bit.
“True.” She leaned up to tickle bunny kisses across my nose and then led me off into the glowing snow globe of a winter night in Chicago. I followed her through wonderland, wanting to believe everything she said. Wanting to believe she wanted to prolong this oasis of ours. But a part of me felt like the reality was I’d yet to fully earn her trust. And who could blame her? For a decade, I wavered like a fucking pussy as we both hung onto the hook. It would take a lot more than a few weeks and a surprise trip to earn her faith in me. I just had to be okay with doing whatever it took to do it.
Elora
The sharp smackof Broderick’s palm against my ass trapped my breath in a bubble in my chest the following morning. My surprise turned into a coy smile when I found him smirking down at said ass, looking all-too satisfied. Sweat glistened over his beautiful biceps, leaving damp spots on his cutoff t-shirt.
“Couldn’t have the gym bros confused about who you’re going home with,” he said cheekily, amused eyes flicking up to mine.
“They just recognize me from the vlog, but don’t know why.” When his smile turned into a deadpan, I laughed and glanced around the crowded space. Most assisted machines were taken, the free weight section we’d happily made camp in no less congested. Lo-and-behold, a few guys with headphones on looked between us before turning to their machines.
“You were saying?” he said, closing the distance to trail warm fingers over the skin between my tank and leggings.
“That you have excellent taste in women. Take the compliment?” Clearing my throat, I offered a quick smile before rising on my toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Setting my hands on his chest, I said, “Besides, you look awfully tempting curling those dumbbells.”
“I’ve got nothing on you with your ass in the air cranking out deadlifts.” My cheeks flushed, and I glanced around outside our little bubble. The best part of most gyms was that everyone lived in the cocoon of their own headphones. His fingers gently pinched my chin, tilting my face up to his so he could press a firm kiss to my lips before saying, “Alright, coach, what’s next?”
Grinning, I supplied, “Squats.”
“Trying to kill me, Pix?”
“You seem to appreciate the results just fine.”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s get this over with.”
“For a football coach, you sure whine a lot in the gym.”
“For a business coach, you sure lift like you’re preparing for war.”
“Your point?” Laughing, I disentangled, nodding towards the weight wrack. “Will you spot me?”
“Not like you need it.”
“No,” I agreed, not dropping his gaze as I backed over towards the towering barbell wracks. “But I like your hands on me.”
He groaned as if I’d inflicted a physical pain, head rolling back as he followed me, and I couldn’t even wipe the grin off my face when I turned to load plates onto the bar. There was a euphoria that seemed to emanate between us during the simplest of activities, a sensation that I’d yet to experience. Weights loaded, I stepped under the bar and positioned myself, but it was Broderick’s careful evaluation that I watched in the mirror. The only description for the look in his eyes was…protective. And I loved it.
“Good girl, keep your form,” he instructed, tugging my ponytail playfully before pulling it over the bar so I didn’t place the weight on it. With one nod of approval, I began my set, smiling as each rep got harder, my breath coming hotter, legs shaking by the fifth. I was about to roll the weight back onto the hook when he shook his head. “You’re not done. Keep going, baby.”
“Fuck,” I breathed, but lowered again, something like pride swelling in my chest as he grinned and nodded. His eyes stayed on me–those broad palms upturned and ready to step in if I maxed out–while mine watched him in the full wall mirror across from us. The chaos of the gym was nothing but a blur, I’m sure partially because of the adrenaline-endorphin combo in my roaring bloodstream, but my zeroed in focus was all on him.
“That’s my girl, you got one more,” he said when I extended, giving my ass another light slap.
“Gonna…kill me,” I gritted out, but shifted on my feet, mentally preparing for the fight of it. Through the scream in my quads, I squatted down, the smooth metal purr of the weight sliding down the track permeating my fog as I watched him step forward, his hands under the bar, but not touching until I’d extended. There if I needed him, but not doubting my ability to do it my damn self. Fuck, I loved the man. I rotated the bar back onto the hook with a heavy clunk. My breath exited in a relieved little whoosh as I straightened on shaking legs, grinning at him as he raised his big hand for a high-five. When my palm met his, he laced his fingers into mine, pulling me against him with his other hand as he brought our foreheads together, dropping that hand to my waist.
“I ever tell you how proud I am to call you mine?”
I grinned through ragged breaths, shaking my head.
“Mmm, we’ll have to remedy that,” he said, the promise in his tone sending a shiver down my spine before he claimed my mouth with a kiss that set fire tearing through my bloodstream. “A man has never been prouder, Pix.”
As we stepped apart, I watched that glorious smile, and wondered if a woman had ever been prouder of her man than I was to call him mine. More than a decade worth of internal Elora’s preened, and I decided that wasn’t possible.
Contentedly naked,I lounged on the bed that evening, fingers absently curling in my hair as the other hand traced the long lines of Broderick’s bare chest. I’d never thought story time would be erotic, but Broderick’s low timbre tracing words more prose than pulpit certainly did it. Sure, it didn’t help that the room smelled like sweat and sex, or that sensation was just returning to my fingertips. We’d squeezed in a quickie back in the room between the gym and my meetings, but there was nothing like getting to take my time with this man. Luxuriating in the feel of his skin on mine, his breath hot against my neck as our bodies did the talking.
With the chapter finished, he slid the bookmark into place, set the book aside and rolled over to smile at me, although I immediately missed the feel of his head resting on my belly.
“You look awfully sleepy for a woman with a date in forty minutes.”
“You look awfully tempting for a man with plans in the city,” I countered, running my nails over the pronounced vein in his forearm where he’d brought his hand to my bare waist.
“Insatiable creature.”
“Guilty as charged.” The gentle caress of his fingers over my body made my eyes flutter closed. Melting into his touch, I said, “You feel too good.”
“Don’t fall asleep, baby. I only have three nights with you, and we can sleep when we’re dead. Gotta take advantage of a city where nobody knows our names.” He bobbed his head, a sheepish grin curving his full lips as he evaluated. “Well, where only three people know our names.”
My chuckle turned into a pained groan when he pulled his fingers from my skin. “Mm-mm,” I protested, shaking my head. Shimmying down the bed, I relished in each inch of warm, naked Broderick against my body. I scooted until I could bury myself in his chest. His laugh rumbled through my ribs as he wrapped those long arms around my body, nuzzling his face against the top of my head. I wiggled my nose when the fine smattering of his chest hair tickled it and then turned my face to cuddle tighter against him. It shouldn’t be legal for a man to feel so good. “I could stay here forever, and it wouldn’t be enough time.”
Goosebumps pebbled my skin when he began to gently scratch up and down my back. “I know, baby. But I gotta enjoy showing you off while I can. And I think you’re going to like it.”
“Why do you have to be so sweet when you’re a pain in my ass?”
He chuckled darkly before giving me a little squeeze. “Come on.”
“Mmmm,” I croaked.
“Pants.”
“Overrated.”
“Dress, then? Something I can flip up over that ass the moment we’re alone again tonight?”
I peeled one intrigued eye open, soaking up the warmth of his smirk as he leaned up on his forearm. “Why, Mr. Allen, are you insinuating a public romp?”
“It’s on the bucket list,” he said, his nonchalance betrayed by the way he was watching me for a reaction. “The idea of bending you over in some bathroom or pinning you up against the wall and making you come with my hand over your mouth so you can’t scream… Fuck, I’d never forget it.”
Smirking, I teased, “Mr. Ethics risking public indecency? I never thought the day would come.”
“There are a lot of things I want to do with you that wouldn’t occur otherwise.”
“Like?” I whispered, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“Like… the white picket fence, golden retriever, matching jogging suit thing.”
Throat thick, I wet my lips. Broderick Allen wanted to build the American dream with me? “Two-point-five kids?”
“I’d prefer rounding up to a solid three.”
Nerves had me battling my smile, my previously brash display of my birthday suit suddenly immensely vulnerable. The picture of three little Brodericks running through the sunlight-filled living room of my dream house played through my vision. Squeals of laughter reverberating off a vaulted ceiling as their daddy and I sipped on tea and watched the fog roll in over the coast. Fighting the twitch in my cheeks, I asked, “You want a family?”
“Someday, yeah. Don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, a bit too honestly. He didn’t retract, still stroking steady lines across my back. “I mean, yes. Maybe. If the timing was right. Not a big one, but a couple of kids sounds nice. I just… With my career taking me everywhere, and hitting my thirties, I kinda figured my chance at that Norman Rockwell painting vanished.”
“If anyone can paint their future, it’s you, Pix.”
Something about his certainty brought my fingers to his face, gently following the broad planes of his cheeks. His eyes slid shut as I rounded the line of his brow. I wanted to commit every inch—every breath with him—to memory. “Maybe not.”
“I know it’s old fashioned, but I always thought if I had a son, I’d name him after my dad.”
I smiled at that, before catching the hope swelling in my chest and rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. “I always thought the same thing about mine.”
“Robert Milo Allen has a nice ring to it.”
And just like that, every scrap of composure exited my body. Hell, maybe my soul went with it, some kind of existential elation rolling through me. “Yeah,” I breathed. “It really does.”
His eyes narrowed on my face, like he could see the way my heart and mind were racing. Racing with what ifs and how’s? “Hey, we figure all this out one day at a time, baby. You don’t have to plan our whole life out right now.”
Nodding, I asked, “You can see us building a life together?”
“Baby girl, there’s not a woman alive I’ve ever seen that playing out with… except for you. You make it easy to see that complete picture. The late-night feedings. The diapers and potty training and picking the right schools. With anybody else, college tours would stress me out. But if I was doing it with you…” That smile that owned every inch of my heart grew. “That’s the dream, right there.”