Chapter 29
MONROE
Ididn’t know how I patiently got through the rest of the evening.
Brodan, as promised, helped Eilidh build some of her Lego.
Walker took Sloane and Callie home because Callie was growing tired.
By this point, Robyn, Lachlan, Arro, and Mac had left with their wee ones too.
When Eilidh’s eyes drooped with tiredness, Regan told her it was time to get ready for bed.
When she burst into tears, it reminded me of how young Eilidh really was.
She was exhausted, but she didn’t want to stop playing with Uncle Brodan.
I swear I melted into a puddle of goo as Brodan cuddled the long-legged child into his arms, soothing her as he carried her upstairs past a grateful Thane, who followed him up.
Between that and our heated kiss in the hallway, I knew I was ready.
Brodan didn’t know.
But he was about to.
Our drive back to the cottage after our goodbyes was silent, and I knew Brodan was probably worried about why.
I made it clear to him, however, when I said, “Park your car around the back of the cottage.”
“What?” He glanced quickly at me.
“Stay with me tonight.”
Brodan’s grip on the wheel tightened, and he gave me an abrupt nod, like he couldn’t quite speak, as the atmosphere between us sizzled.
I was in a fog of lust during our walk from the car to the cottage.
Once we were inside, I locked up, not bothering to switch on the lights.
Instead, I kicked off my shoes and strolled toward the staircase, shrugging out of my jacket and dropping it on the floor.
I moved with a casualness that belied the rapid beating of my heart.
The last time we did this, Brodan had wounded my feelings beyond measure.
It was a massive leap of faith that he wouldn’t again.
I heard Brodan’s swift intake of breath as my Christmas jumper followed my jacket, and I ascended the stairs in nothing but my bra. My hair brushed the naked skin of my mid back, and I shivered in anticipation of feeling Brodan’s fingers caress me instead.
The stairs creaked beneath his heavy footsteps as he followed me up.
With a glance over my shoulder as I walked across the hall, my stomach somersaulted at the heated intensity etched harshly across Brodan’s face.
He almost seemed like a stranger, and yet his expression excited the hell out of me.
Goose bumps scattered down my spine, and my breasts felt suddenly heavy.
My breathing increased as I moved into the bedroom and crossed to the window to close the blinds. A soft light filled the dark room, and I turned to see Brodan had switched on one of the bedside lamps.
I felt nervous. It wasn’t like traveling back to when we were eighteen and I couldn’t believe all my teenage dreams were coming true.
Too much time had worn over us like sandpaper, reshaping us, changing us into something made from the same material as before, but …
different. Corners had been shaved off, and experiences had rubbed away the polish of youth and naiveté.
And yet, I still wanted this new version of Brodan as much as I’d ever wanted the boy I’d loved all those years ago. Tears swam in my eyes as I gazed across the room at him, seeing my thoughts mirrored in his eyes.
“It hurts,” he whispered hoarsely. “How much time we’ve lost.”
I nodded. “I know.”
Brodan let out a shuddering breath as he crossed the room to clasp my face in his hands and pressed his forehead to mine. “I don’t want to lose anymore,” he said raggedly against my lips.
“I … I can’t make promises,” I told him with quiet honesty. “But I want to try. I’ll regret it for my whole life if I don’t.”
He lifted his head to stare into my eyes. “We don’t have to … tonight. If it feels like too much.”
I gave him a wry smile. “It always feels like too much with you, Brodan.”
The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Aye, with you too.”
Then, before I could stop the words, I blurted, “What do you see in me?”
My cheeks heated with embarrassment that I’d allowed the insecure question to escape.
However, I’d harbored it for months. When we were kids, I never really blamed myself for Brodan supposedly not returning my feelings.
I think I’d known him so well that deep down, I’d always believed he kept a distance romantically because he was afraid to love me like that.
That I wasn’t the problem. But now … knowing he was used to traveling the world, experiencing extraordinary things, and having endured the stupid and painful task of googling him and all his glamorous casual women, I couldn’t help but feel that a petite primary school teacher who had only ever traveled out of the country once didn’t exactly measure up.
Brodan’s eyebrows rose at my query.
“Never mind.” I laughed, embarrassed. “Stupid question. I’m awesome, of course. Why wouldn’t you want me?”
He saw through my false bravado, his hands sliding down my neck and across my shoulders. “I see a woman who has endured pain since she was a child with a strength that humbles me.”
I tensed.
But Brodan forged ahead, his tone growing more passionate. “I see a woman who protects those she thinks can’t protect themselves, who finds genuine pleasure in molding the minds of children who would test most people’s patience if they had to be around that many on a daily basis.”
I chuckled because that was true.
Brodan smiled at the sound of my laughter, but he never lost his intensity as he continued, “I see a woman who has put herself before others to the detriment of her own well-being. I see a woman who is the greatest friend, the most loyal friend, who can talk about the weird and wonderful for hours, or, if you need it, can create the biggest shoulder to lean on out of the tiny one she carries.” He leaned down to press a kiss to said shoulder, and I had to blink back tears at his tenderness.
When he raised his head, he whispered, “I see a good woman I don’t deserve … but then I’ve always been a selfish bastard, and when I want something, I rarely care if I deserve it.”
“Brodan.”
“Now let me show you all the ways I want you, my love.”
Anticipation flooded my belly, and I nodded mutely.
He searched my face and bent to press the gentlest kiss to my forehead, then the corner of my right eye.
“You have new freckles on your forehead and one right there on the corner of your eye,” he whispered hoarsely, sounding almost pained.
“It bothers me more than I can stand that I don’t know when they first appeared. ”
“Brodan,” I whispered tearfully. “Stop making me cry. It’s not sexy right now.”
He laughed against my lips and lightly brushed his mouth across mine. I reached into it, wanting more, but he held back. “I noticed the ones on your stomach are still there.”
“What?” I murmured, feeling pulled into a daze of imprisoned lust.
“Your freckles on your stomach. When we were teenagers, sometimes your top would ride up, and I’d see those freckles and think about exploring every single one. Fuck, you have no idea how many times I had to hide a stiffy from you.”
I gave a bark of laughter. “I didn’t know.”
He grinned. “I know. You were adorably innocent.”
My smile felt almost sultry. “If you move this along a bit, you might find I’m not innocent anymore.”
Brodan’s expression darkened. “I want to take my time with you.”
“You want to torture us, you mean?”
“Maybe a wee bit,” he teased, pressing a quick kiss to my throat.
My fingers twitched at my side, desperate to reach for him. But I was also curious to see how this would play out.
“You had no idea what your smile did to me. How fucking beautiful you were. There were so many nights I wrapped my hand around my dick and fantasized about what it would be like between us if I just let myself have you.”
My breath hitched.
“Did you think about me back then? Did you touch yourself thinking about me?”
I nodded.
His eyes narrowed. “Did you think about me when you were with other blokes?”
Indignation rippled through my desire. “Did you think about me when you were with other lassies?” I countered.
Brodan nodded. “I’m ashamed to say I did.”
I closed my eyes. “We’re quite the pair.”
“Does that mean you did too?”
“Yes,” I confessed. More than once, I’d closed my eyes when I was with a boy and got off imagining it was Brodan. It wasn’t fair to them. It wasn’t fair to either of us.
“I did it a year ago,” Brodan murmured.
My eyes flew open.
“It was February 8.”
I let out a gasp. “My birthday.”
He nodded, his hands dropping to settle on my waist, as if he was afraid I might move away.
“I … she was just some woman I met at a bar. The entire experience was empty. Once we started, I felt trapped in my own skin. I wanted to push her off, tell her to get out, but it felt like to admit that was to admit I was broken somehow,” he confessed with a sheepish, unhappy smirk.
“You were on my mind. I wondered where you were, who you were with, if he had splashed out on your birthday, if there were kids that made cards with ‘Happy Birthday, Mum’ on them. And it still fucking hurt,” he whispered incredulously, “imagining it. Imagining your life without me. So I closed my eyes, and I pretended she was you.”
Heart beating wildly, I reached up and caressed his cheek. Brodan bussed into my touch, closing his eyes as if in pain. “We don’t have to imagine anymore. Let’s stop … okay? Let’s just be here. Right now. We’re here together now.”
His eyes opened, and a fierceness lit them as he nodded. “We are. And you’re still so fucking beautiful it kills me.”
“Aye?” I smiled, my skin flushing with pleasure. “Show me. Show me how beautiful you think I am, Brodan Adair.”
And so he did.
His hands moved up my waist, fingertips caressing across my ribs, and goose bumps prickled over my breasts. They were so heavy, desperate for his hands, his mouth.
“Brodan …”