Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
brOOKS
“We took her to Vegas for the weekend,” Gabe says as he crosses to his tool chest to grab a drill. “She’d never been before.”
Gabe is my cousin on my dad’s side, and he’s been working for me for a while now. We’ve always gotten along well, and he does excellent work. He’s in a relationship with Dani’s sister, Alex, and a man named Adam who I’ve met a few times.
The three of them are making it work, and I’m happy for him.
“I don’t think Alex has traveled much,” I reply as I close the hood on Juliet’s car.
It’s finally finished. I can’t procrastinate giving it back to her any longer. I could have had it done a few days ago, but this is my only tie to the woman I can’t stop thinking about. The one I want more than I’m willing to admit or am happy about.
The woman who has haunted me for fifteen motherfucking years.
Once I give it to her, there won’t be any reason to talk to her.
And that pisses me off.
The door of the garage opens, and Birdie skips inside. It’s late, almost quitting time. With the change of seasons, it’s getting dark outside earlier.
The sun has already gone down, and it’s raining.
Fall is here.
“Hi, Uncle Brooks,” Birdie calls out as Bridger walks in behind her.
“What are you guys up to?” I ask as I squat, and Birdie walks right into my arms so I can lift her.
“I had to have a checkup at the doctor,” she tells me. “And then I wanted to see you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You did?”
“Yeah. Are you going to teach me how to fix cars?”
I chuckle and glance at my brother, who’s wandered over to chat with Gabe.
“Sure. I’ll teach you. But you’ll get your hands dirty.”
She scrunches up her nose and then shrugs. “I guess that’s okay. I’m sad, Uncle Brooks.”
Birdie pushes that little lower lip out in a pout, and I do the same, mirroring her.
“Why?”
“Because my restaurant is closed.”
Unease niggles its way into my stomach. “Did they close early today?”
Birdie shakes her head, and Bridger walks my way.
“No, there was a flood,” Birdie says, and my eyes immediately move to my brother.
“What?”
“Yeah, poor Jules,” Bridger says with a sigh. “Middle of the night the other night, one of the pipes in her attic burst, flooded the whole damn building before we could get it shut off.”
“What the fu—” I glance at my baby girl, cutting off the swear word. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Is it your favorite, too?” Birdie asks, patting my cheek, as if consoling me.
“Something like that.” I set the little girl on her feet. “Gabe, I have to go.”
“I’ll lock up,” he calls back with a wave.
“I don’t think she’s staying there,” Bridger says as he and Birdie walk out with me. “She said she had somewhere to stay.”
I stop next to my truck and turn to him. “Where?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Her parents are dead, no siblings, not many friends. Where the hell do you think she had to go, Bridge?”
He shifts on his feet. “I offered my place, but she insisted—”
“Yeah, because she’s a stubborn little thing.” I shake my head and climb into the cab of my truck, wave at Birdie, and pull out of my lot.
I have a feeling that my wildfire has been staying in that attic, with water damage, because she’s too fucking stubborn to ask for help.
I’m going to spank her perfect ass.
After I take her home with me, where she belongs.
It takes seconds to get down the street. It’s fully dark now and still raining. When I pull into a parking space in front of the restaurant, I see that the lights are on inside.
There’s a note taped to the door.
Dear Customers,
We are closed due to plumbing issues. We are working on this matter and will reopen ASAP. Don’t worry, this is temporary!
Thank you for your patience,
Juliet
I don’t see anyone inside. Big fans are blowing, and the chairs are on top of the tables.
I can see from here that the floor is ruined. All that original hardwood bubbled up and will need to be ripped out and replaced.
Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry.
Circling to the alley, I climb her stairs and knock on the door of her apartment. I’m impatient to get to her.
I need to see her and make sure she’s okay.
When she opens the door, humid air hits me, and I’m so damn … pissed.
“Are you staying up here?” I ask as I muscle my way inside. The floor is still squishy under my feet. My eyes scan the area, and I see the water line on the walls, as well as the clothes she has hanging from the wire she strung to dry them out.
“Of course I am,” she says. “I live here.”
“No, Wildfire.” I turn to her and can’t keep my hands to myself.
I frame her face, and she doesn’t pull away.
Christ, she looks exhausted. She has bruises under her eyes from the lack of sleep, her hair is a mess, and I’d swear that she’s lost weight in the few days since I last saw her. “I’m taking you home with me.”
“Brooks—”
I lean into her and almost rest my forehead against hers.
“Let me help you. You shouldn’t be staying up here, Juliet. It’s too wet, and you could get mold. It’s not safe. It’s definitely not comfortable. Come home with me.”
She bites her lower lip, and I can see that she wants to cry, but she swallows the tears down.
She’s going to refuse me.
“Please, baby.” I tug her into me, wrap my arms around her, and hug her close. “I can’t stand the thought of you here.”
She takes a deep, ragged breath, and her arms circle around me, and I feel like I can breathe.
“I would love to get out of here for the night.” Her voice is small, and I don’t have to be told twice.
“Grab what you need.”
She hurries to retrieve her handbag and phone, then opens a drawer to pull out some clothes that look as if they have escaped the water, and tosses them into a grocery bag.
A fucking grocery bag.
I take the bag from her, and we leave the apartment. She locks the door, but then I notice that she moves back to the door three times to check the locks.
That’s different.
I lead her down the stairs and around to the front of the building where I’m parked.
“Do you want to turn off the lights in there?” I ask her.
“No, it’s okay. I’m too tired, Brooks.”
I’m going to punch everyone who knew about this but didn’t tell me. Even my brother.
“Come on then.” I open the door of the truck, and she climbs in. When she’s settled in the seat, I put the seat belt on her, then kiss her smooth cheek.
She stiffens but doesn’t pull away.
I’ve been such a dick to her that she can’t stand me touching her.
I should punch myself.
As I drive through town, I glance over and see that she’s resting her head on the window. Her eyes are closed, and her hands are in fists in her lap. As I get closer to the house, her hands soften, and she relaxes.
She’s fallen asleep on the two-minute drive from her place to mine.
My girl is wrecked. And I haven’t been there to help her.
And goddammit, that stops now because no matter what happened between us in the past, she’s here now, and I can’t stay away.
I can’t continue to live without her.
I pull into my driveway and cut the engine by the back door, in front of the garage. She doesn’t stir.
“Hey, Jules, we’re here. Baby, I’m going to come around and get you, okay?”
She wrinkles her brow but doesn’t fully wake up, and it breaks my heart.
Christ, she’s destroying me here.
Pushing out of the truck, I circle the hood and gently open her door, catching her when she would lean out. I unfasten her seat belt, then lift her into my arms and kiss the top of her head as I close the truck door with my foot and carry her to the back door, which I never lock.
I get her inside and decide that putting her in my bed, where I want her, would only piss her off when she wakes up, so I take her to the only guest room I have. Birdie has stayed in here a few times, but otherwise, this room is mostly unused.
Thankfully, the bedding is clean, so I lay her on top of the blankets. Jules snuggles right down into the pillow, hugging it to her. I’ve never wanted to be a pillow so bad in my life.
Striding away from her, I go out to the truck to get her things and bring them inside. I lock the back door—I now have something to lose in here—and set her things on the dresser in the room she’s in.
She’s dressed in red sweat shorts and a black tank top, and I assume those are her pajamas, so she’ll be comfortable.
Which is good because if I had to strip her down and put her in one of my shirts, I might not survive it. I was inside her over a week ago, and I’ve thought of nothing else since. I handled it so fucking poorly that all I did was piss her off and push her away.
Which, a few months ago, I would have said is exactly what I wanted.
But now that I’ve had my hands on her, there’s no way I can let her go. I don’t simply want her.
I need her.
And I’ll prove to her that I’m not a complete asshole. There’s a lot to learn when it comes to my wildfire. She wasn’t wrong the other day when she said we’re strangers.
We are.
But that’s about to change.
Turning around, I grab a blanket from the closet and cover her with it. Then I leave the room altogether because every cell in my body is screaming at me to get in that bed with her. To snuggle up to her, hold her against me, and comfort her. To be with her.
Doing that without her consent would be a dick move. She tensed up when I simply kissed her cheek. I don’t think she’d welcome my entire body wrapped around her while she sleeps.
Leaving her here alone, however, is out of the question, so I walk out to the kitchen and grab a chair, then return to the room and sit in it, right next to the bed. I’ll respect her space, but I’m not leaving her side.
Not ever again.
“Brooks?”
Someone is nudging my leg. When I open my eyes, I see Juliet’s hand touching my shin where I’ve rested my feet on the bed, and she’s looking at me with a frown on her beautiful face.
My neck is killing me, and my lower back is not happy, but she’s touching me, so I refuse to move.
“You don’t have to stay in here.”