15. Indie
FIFTEEN
Indie
T he rehearsal dinner is ten times more enjoyable than the two hours Taylor made us walk down the makeshift aisle. The open bar and Brooks’ company at my side have a lot to do with it. We practice our toasts and let their parents take over the microphone to gush over their youngest children getting married.
The dinner is delicious and I’m glad I went with the non-vegetarian choice for tomorrow’s meal because the chef’s rendition of mini beef wellingtons with a mushroom cream sauce should be served at a Michelin Star restaurant back home, not wasted on wedding dinners for people that won’t appreciate it.
The last decadent bite of mocha mouse dissolves on my tongue, and I drop the small spoon to the dessert plate with a pang of sadness filling my chest. Brooks must see something on my face because he pushes his plate toward me.
“Have it. I’m not much of a sweets person.”
“First off, that’s sinful. Second, thank you because, ironically, I’m fairly sure eating this is the closest to a religious experience I’ve ever had.”
He barks out a loud laugh that pulls the attention of our surrounding seatmates. He leans closer, dropping his lips to my ear, before whispering, “If it’s experiences of the spiritual sort you’re looking for, I’ve got something else in mind for you.”
His wicked smile steals my attention, the dessert long forgotten, and my panties dampen in anticipation. I shift in my seat, glancing around at the wedding party. Some of the table is already empty, couples choosing to call it an early night for the festivities tomorrow.
“I’m all yours, handsome.” The statement sends a shock of realization through my system. I’m all his for the next two days, that’s it. There’s a metaphorical countdown clock hanging over our heads, and the buzzer keeps going off, reminding me that this has an expiration date. It’s depressing.
Brooks slides out from the table beside me before moving behind my chair to pull it out and offer me his arm as I stand next to him. “What are the chances you’ll let me blindfold you?” he asks as we make our way out of the barn.
“Promise not to lead me into the pond?”
“Promise,” he says, loosening the knot of his tie before pulling it free from his collar.
The night is refreshing against my alcohol-flushed skin, the promise of warmer spring days to come. Brooks leads me to the firepit, his tie hanging from his free hand.
“Turn around, beautiful.”
I spin on my heels, losing my balance in the gravel, and his firm hands steady me. The silk tie glides across my eyes, blacking out my vision. It’s off-putting, having one of my senses stripped, but that’s when I notice the sounds of crickets chirping and the croaking of a bullfrog near the pond. The fresh country air full of allergy-invoking scents fills my lungs and I relax in his hold.
I trust him.
Our journey is slow moving. My heels dig into the moist earth, throwing me off balance and threatening a twisted ankle. Finally, I’ve had enough and jolt to a stop.
“Are we almost there? We’ve been walking forever!”
“We’ve made it fifty feet. We’re not even close.” Brooks chuckles.
“Can’t we take a golf cart or something?”
“Sorry, out of those for the weekend,” he mocks.
“Well, you need to figure something out, because I’m not walking another foot. Taylor will kill me if I show up in the morning with a wrapped ankle.”
His warm hands leave my shoulders, and I wobble until my core tightens. His light footsteps build a picture in my head of him moving around my body, and I stiffen in anticipation. I’m off the ground in a flash, bent in half over a strong shoulder, a breeze blowing up my dress. An unladylike squeal rips from my throat at the manhandling.
“Really!”
“At the rate you were moving, we’d be late for the wedding tomorrow. Enjoy the ride.”
I do. Using my proximity to his sculpted backside to my advantage. My hands grope at his body, eliciting a huff of fake annoyance at my continued efforts.
Brooks walks for what feels like forever, not once gasping for a breath as he hauls me along. Finally, we come to a stop, and he hefts me back over, slowly gliding my body against his front, letting me feel the ridge of his erect cock, before gently setting me back on my feet.
The blood in my head makes me woozy, being back upright. My feet take the lead, shuffling to the left as the world spins. I reach up, ready to rip the blindfold off and give myself a spot to gain my balance, but Brooks beats me to it.
Blinking my eyes open, I stare up at the handsome man before me. His gaze bores into mine, digging in as if he’s looking for the answer to a long-forgotten riddle. The moment sweeps me away. I push onto my tiptoes, hanging a hairsbreadth away from his supple lips. I want this, need it even. My knees shake from the strain of standing like this, or maybe it’s the excitement of being wrapped up in his arms like I was earlier.
“I don’t want you to go,” he whispers, closing his eyes and dropping his forehead to mine.
Instead of returning his sentiment that has my heart galloping in my chest, I close the space between us. His arms close around me, dragging me into his body, leaving no space between us. His scruff scratches against my cheeks when he tilts my head with a hand tangled at the nape of my neck, gaining better access to break the seam of my lips.
This kiss isn’t rushed. He doesn’t hurry, even though we have less time now than we did the other night. He savors it, taking his time to make me feel the words he just shared. He’s not alone. The more time we spend together, the less I feel ready to head back to California, but what’s the alternative? My company’s there—my life.
What life?
The one where I’m lonely and broke. The one where I don’t really have any friends that mean anything to me. No one to check on me if I suddenly go missing one day. My company’s holding on by a thread, barely gaining a foothold in a city where we’re a small fish in a raging ocean with creatures who eat businesses like mine by the thousands. California isn’t the home I imagined it to be when I moved out there with big dreams. It’s an overpriced, sunny depression that’s killing me slowly.
He pulls away and wipes at my cheeks, clearing the tears I didn’t realize were falling.
“Hey now, what’s got you so upset? Last time I checked, my kisses didn’t leave you in tears.” His dimple pops with the slight smile he pulls. I know he’s trying to make me feel better.
“I’m not ready.”
“You know I don’t expect you to stay. That’s not what I was trying to say.”
“So, you wouldn’t want me to?” I know that’s not fair. I’m taking his words and twisting them, grasping at a line to try to unravel this conversation. Most men would take the bait. The Brooks I met at the beginning of the week would have, but my Brooks sees right through the facade.
“Are you going to take my opinion into consideration?”
I shrug because logic tells me I shouldn’t care what a man I’ve known for less than a week thinks, but my heart’s splitting in two, ready to leap in his direction.
He clears his throat, tipping my chin up with his knuckle. “I want to be selfish and tell you to stay. Stay here with me and give this thing growing between us a chance. We both know the bet is only a footnote at this point. Obviously, I still want the money. Fuck, I need it, red, but you know what? Even if you told me it was all a ruse, that the money was never on the line, I’d still want you to stay.”
His declaration takes my breath away. It’s what any girl would want to hear, especially one with a past of emotionally stunted relationships in her wake. I stay quiet, unsure how to match his candor. He doesn’t push; instead, he drops a soft kiss on my forehead and turns me around until I’m settled against his front.
I suck in a sharp breath at the view before me. The wide-open field is shadowed, illuminated softly by the crescent moon high in the sky. Even so, I can still make out the tall grass swaying in the breeze. It goes on for as far as the eye can see. I don’t know what part of Taylor’s land we’re on. When you own hundreds of acres, it’s hard to show off every nook and cranny.
“Let’s put a pause on that conversation. It’s not why I brought you out here. I wanted to show you one of my favorite places. Look up.”
When I do, I can’t believe my eyes. I’ve never seen a night sky look like this other than in published photos online. It’s so dark and unpolluted, tucked away in the meadow, that even the furthest stars, thousands of light years away, twinkle brightly.
“It’s unbelievable,” I finally manage to mutter, leaning back into his warm embrace. “Not the religious experience I was expecting.” I shove my ass back into him and wiggle for good measure, “but I can see why you’d label it as such.”
His chest bounces with the chuckle he holds in. “Come over here with me. There’s somewhere we can lay down.”
We trudge through the tall grass until a small, clearing comes into view. A blanket is spread out on the ground with a picnic basket on top and an unlit lantern resting off to the side. I turn back to Brooks, shooting him a suspicious glance.
“Why does this look like you had every intention of bringing me out here tonight?”
“I may have called in a small favor from Spence after our run-in at the dress shop this afternoon.”
“You seem pretty sure I’d be willing to trek into the night with you. What if I’d planned to leave with Cousin Greg.”
He scoffs at the insinuation. “I had the wager on my side. Plus, Greg couldn’t handle you.”
“Are you saying I’m too much to handle?”
He charges toward me, grabbing my hips and lifting me to wrap my legs around his waist. His large hands settle on my ass, holding me up.
“You’re a lot to handle.” His hands squeeze tight against my ass, pushing my core against his hard length. “But I like a challenge. Especially when it’s a city girl with flaming red hair and a mouth to rival a sailor’s.”
“I seem to remember you not liking that quality the first night we met.”
For a large man, he gracefully takes us to the ground with me still cradled safely in his arms. He lets go as he sits, leaning back on his hands, legs outstretched, with me in his lap.
“You blew in like a hurricane, all sass and giving zero fucks about the rules at my bar. What did you expect?”
“Usually, men love my crass, wild ways.” I shrug and give him a wink.
“The boys back in California are probably too scared of you to say otherwise.”
That pulls a snort from me as I tilt my head back, and I let loose a raucous laugh into the night sky. He’s not wrong. The types of guys I hooked up with back home would have never handled me the way Brooks has. The men are built differently down here in the country; as fate would have it, I think I’ve met my perfect match.