CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I t’s just getting dark when I admit defeat and take the next turn that leads back to our cabin. The clock on the dash mocks me. Try as I might to waste the entire night, there’s not much to do in a town that makes Cloverleaf Meadows look like a big city. Four hours was a struggle. Surrendering this soon after my dramatic exit will be equally difficult.
A streetlamp ahead on the right catches my eye. I ease off the accelerator and squint into the dusk to get a better view. The spotlight exposes a narrow driveway that opens to a wide lot. That’s where a quaint bookstore is nestled in a clearing just off the road. I’m sensing a theme in this neck of the woods, and take it as a nudge to stop in.
My blinker is loud in the silence as I creep forward along the gravel path. I pull up next to the only other vehicle and shift the truck into park. Illuminated in bold lettering on the roof are the words Chase the Storm. It includes a cute logo of the sun poking through rain clouds. A sense of familiarity settles in my gut.
The open sign is on, which I accept as an invitation. A chime announces my presence as I enter the shop. My lashes immediately flutter shut as another strike of awareness hits me. I inhale deeply, allowing the worries to melt away for a moment. The crisp scent of paper and imaginations running wild hang in the air. When I open my eyes, there’s a security guard sitting on a chair beside me.
“Holy shit.” I rest a palm over my pounding heart. “You scared me.”
The guy doesn’t respond, or even blink. I’m about to retreat in a hurry when a woman pokes her head out from between two shelves.
“Oh, hi!” Her smile is wide, severely contrasting the mean mug still aimed at me. “Welcome to Chase the Storm.”
“Uh, thanks. Is it okay that I’m here?” My gaze bounces off the guard for emphasis.
“Don’t mind Nash. He takes his role too seriously.” She approaches at a wobbly snail’s pace, which is most likely caused by her pregnant belly. “Quit scaring my customers, Thorn.”
His stare moves to her and instantly softens. “Sorry, Darlin’. It’s late and you need to rest.”
“We’re just fine.” She pats her baby bump and then ushers me toward a table stacked with paperbacks. “I’m Penny, by the way.”
“Paisley,” I say on a laugh. “With names like ours, we should probably be book besties.”
“Couldn’t agree more. It’s nice to meet you. Is there anything in particular that you’re looking for? ”
Other than delaying the inevitable? Not really. I don’t say that, of course. “Do you specialize in romance novels?”
“Oh, yes.” She clutches her hands over her heart. There’s a dreamy glint in her eyes as well. “Love stories are my absolute favorite. I’ve become even more obsessed with them now that I’m living my very own fairytale.”
A rumbling noise comes from Nash as he looks at Penny like she’s a ripe piece of fruit he wants to devour. The temperature in the small shop spikes while they exchange a heated glance. This is what I’m missing, and might never experience.
It’s a daunting realization I was hoping to escape. Envy pricks at me instead. Their obvious adoration is strong enough to get me intoxicated from one sip. It’s an elixir that any hopeless romantic would guzzle by the gallon.
“Phew, excuse me.” Penny fans her face. “I’d blame it on the hormones, but it’s honestly nonstop whenever he’s in the room.”
Jealousy nips at me again, which is totally ridiculous. But a change in subject couldn’t hurt. “How’s business? If you don’t mind me asking,” I tack on for the sake of decorum.
“Probably what you’d expect. Summer is our busy season. The rest of the year is a bit slow, but I’m not in this for the money. It’s about spreading the joy of reading.”
I nod in understanding. “Kinda off the beaten path, huh?”
She flips through a book absently. “My husband doesn’t care much for people. This is the closest to town he would build the shop.”
A choked exhale sputters from me. “He built this place? ”
“Sure did.” She beams with pride. “We’ve owned this little slice of heaven for a few years.”
I glance around the store with a fresh perspective. “Wow, that’s—”
“Daddy, Daddy!” A little girl no older than three appears out of nowhere, rushing toward Nash at lightning speed. She’s waving a piece of paper that’s covered in colorful squiggles. “Gots a pitcher. Here go!”
The ice king at the door melts into a squishy teddy bear before my eyes. The doting father leaps off his stool and crouches onto the floor. His daughter flings herself into his waiting arms. Their tight embrace brings tears to my eyes.
“Mhmm, that’s how this happened.” She points at her protruding tummy. “Can’t resist him when he gets gooey.”
The conundrum winks at her before pinning me with a scowl as if I’m ruining a special family moment. He’s probably right. At this rate, I might beg Brody to have babies with me if they can cure intolerable grumpiness.
“Maybe I should go.” My sandals slip on the carpet as I prepare to flee.
“Wait.” Penny hovers her hands above my arms to form an invisible barrier. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
That’s putting it mildly, but I shouldn’t leave empty-handed. I blindly reach for the nearest book. “This will do the trick.”
Her brows lift. “Interesting choice. I approve.”
A quick glance at the cover explains her reaction. There’s a mostly naked, very male alien hovering over a swooning woman. The title doesn’t hide the fact that she’s about to be blasted with his astronomical laser beam. My cheeks go up in flames when I give the image another peek.
“I like to expand my horizons,” I croak.
“You’re in for a treat. This one gets credit for putting my second bun in the oven.” Penny strokes the girthy spine longingly. “There’s something extra stimulating about reading dirty scenes while ovulating.”
Just what I need. I dig out more than enough cash and push the money into her grip. “You’ve been really… um, informative. Extremely helpful. Keep the change.”
Penny’s mouth opens and closes as she inspects the wad. “Thank you!”
I offer a backwards wave before dashing out of Chase the Storm. The evening chill allows clarity to return but I’m still overheated. My motions are jerky and rushed as I get settled behind the wheel. The truck roars to life, swerving slightly when the tires kick up gravel.
Darkness envelops me on the road. I spend the drive lost in thought. It’s unfortunate to admit that Brody fills entirely too much bandwidth in my brain. Maybe I’m still feeling the effects of Penny and Nash. The love potion they infuse into their shop could be dangerous to my resolve. I’ll have to be careful about what stores I stumble into.
The cabin is quiet when I arrive and slip inside. Nothing appears out of place, just the same as when I left. There’s not even a single dish in the sink. Guilt slithers around my ribs and squeezes. We didn’t go shopping for food. The least I could’ve done was get him takeout. Not like I would’ve known what to get. My eye roll is reserved solely for me and my misguided concern. If he was hungry, he could have told me .
I wander around in search of Brody but can’t find him. If not for his suitcase on the bed, I’d assume he took off. His woodsy scent lingers as I absently descend the stairs. My phone gains ten pounds in my pocket, demanding I relieve the weight and send him a text.
A splash yanks my attention to the deck. It’s pitch black out there except for the soft glow from the hot tub. That’s where I spot my husband, submerged in the water up to his broad shoulders. His head is tipped back onto the stone ledge. This might be the first time I’ve witnessed him unplugged and relaxing.
I don’t want to disturb his peace but the insistence to check on him is too powerful. The cool sweep of autumn drifts along my bare legs when I sneak onto the patio. Brody hasn’t noticed me yet, which allows me to shamelessly admire him. His dark hair is wet and slicked back away from his face. I shuffle closer while appreciating the unobstructed view. The reclined position puts his angular jaw on display. Sooty lashes seal his eyes shut while he soaks. Sweat or stray droplets sprinkle his forehead. Steam rises off the churning surface, making him look even hotter. Too bad the jets are on or I’d get a glimpse at much more of him.
“My beloved wife returns,” Brody rasps.
A jolt rushes through me and I suck in a sharp breath. “How did you know I was here?”
“I’m always aware of you.” But his eyes are still closed.
“That’s a creepy sentiment coming from my fake husband.”
When his lips curl into a full smile, my knees threaten to buckle. “What did you expect? You sparkle like a disco ball wherever you go, Twinkles. ”
I glance at the lace shirt I’ve paired with a pink denim skirt. It’s a fairly plain outfit by my standards. “But you can’t see me.”
Hooded lids barely lift when he decides to grace me with his stare. “Heard those bracelets jingle on your wrist like a Christmas carol.”
I shake the glittery bangles, which make a racket. “Okay, that’s fair.”
His grin spreads. “How was town?”
Suspicion prickles the back of my neck. “Fine.”
“Did you get me a present?” He sinks lower until his chin touches the water and proceeds to blow bubbles at me.
“No?” I’m beginning to question this strange version of Brody.
Which makes him double down, an exaggerated pout sticking out his bottom lip. “But it’s customary for the bride to get her groom a gift.”
“Oh, really?” I cross my arms. “And what did my groom get for me?”
“It’s down there.” He dips his head to indicate the general vicinity of his lap. “You have to unwrap it.”
My mind goes blank as alarm bells clang. I rove my gaze over him, taking note of his sluggish blinks and dopey smirk. Maybe he’s dizzy from too much chlorine and not enough caloric intake.
“Are you feeling okay, boss?”
“I’ll be a lot better if you join me.” Brody pats the roiling space beside him with a sloppy palm.
My tongue twists over several responses. I settle for, “Did you eat dinner?”
“Worried about my well-being? ”
“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m concerned about you passing out and leaving me stranded in the elements.”
Booming laughter explodes from him, shocking me into a solid block. “Wouldn’t do that to my wife. You’re my responsibility now.”
This semi-sweet, chauvinist behavior is spinning me faster than a baler. “I can take care of myself.”
“Afraid you’re stuck with me, Twinkles.”
“Temporarily.”
Brody’s shrug is lopsided. “Sure, but we’re in this together for now. There’s plenty of food to keep us afloat for weeks. That includes drinks.”
He lifts his arms from the water and stretches along the smooth rocks framing the jacuzzi. The sight renders me immobile for a few reasons, but I choose to prioritize the tattoos decorating his skin. I can’t tell what the designs are from this distance in the dark. Before I can sneak a closer peek, a bottle of Dom appears in his grip to distract me. The puzzle is solved as he swirls the remaining contents before bringing it to his lips.
Brody guzzles the expensive champagne as if it’s cheap beer. Watching him do so is another travesty entirely. Even in the piss-poor lighting, I catch every subtle movement. His fingers clutch onto the wide base in a possessive hold. The flow of alcohol floods his mouth like an open tap. I’m transfixed when a droplet escapes his lips, trickling down his chin as he swallows. The urge to lick that path beckons me to the edge of the shallow pool.
My concentration zeroes in as his Adam’s apple bobs under the pressure to chug the liquid gold. Drool collects on my tongue and I gulp. I’m suddenly very thirsty .
Brody finishes the bottle and sets it aside. That snaps me out of the wrongful hypnosis.
“You’re drunk,” I accuse.
He tips his head to one side and squints. “I’m buzzed.”
“Wow, never thought I’d see you smashed.”
He snorts. “I’m not a total square.”
The outdated term makes me giggle. “Gosh, you’re old.”
“Why do you think I married you? Wanted to keep myself young.”
“Just using me,” I murmur.
The reminder should be sobering, but he’s too captivating in this state. Especially when he turns up the heat.
“Feel free to use me in return, wifey.” For whatever reason, that endearment sounds cute.
When he tacks on a wink, I almost swoon again. Boozy Brody is an incorrigible flirt. I might just like it. At my extended silence, his eyebrows wag.
“C’mon, Twinkles. I’m not so bad. Unless you want me to be.” He drifts his palms along his torso, disappearing under the water to touch areas I can’t see.
But it’s not a worthless tease. The seductive motion puts his arms in better view, allowing me to examine his tattoos. I never knew he had any until tonight.
Once the details register, my breath whooshes as I drop to my knees. “Are those…?”
“Strands of barbwire,” he confirms. His right arm shifts to show how the design coils up and around his entire limb. “Got all these during my rebellious phase. Probably when I was about your age.” He laughs while I roll my eyes.
“As if ten years is that big of a gap.” I wrinkle my nose. Ugh, that sounds like I’m defending our relationship .
“You’re twenty-three?”
“Isn’t that something you should know about your wife?”
“Got me there. I failed to do proper research.” He snaps his fingers as if scolding himself.
“Yet here we are.” Rather than step deeper into that manure pile, I refocus on the thick lines etched into his skin. “Are these why you’re always wearing long sleeves?”
“Cover up my mistakes.”
A crease forms between my brows. “Is that how you see them?”
Brody’s eyes grow a bit distant, as if memories are calling to him. “They remind me of when I thought the future was mine. It was meant to be symbolic, like I couldn’t be fenced in. Crock of shit that turned out to be.”
“Why’s that?”
“Look at us, married against our will.”
“We had a choice.” There I go again, defending us. I bite my tongue before more nonsense slips through my filter.
His chuckle is a breeze slipping through leaves. “Mom and Dad gave me more responsibilities when I turned twenty-five. I liked the work, quickly demanding more. That’s a damn slippery slope. Years went by before I realized the job became my identity. Nobody’s fault but my own. Hours behind the desk and on the road replaced nights out with friends. Before I knew it, I was addicted to the trade. By then it was too late and I just poured more of myself into the business. How do you think I tipped Benson Farmstead into billionaire status so quickly?”
The story sheds new light on him and he looks almost normal. Like a weary man who needs a break. Maybe I’ve been too hard on him. I rip my gaze off his solemn expression. Nope, not falling for that. Talk about a slippery slope.
I pick at a rhinestone on my skirt to avoid petting him. “Do you regret it?”
“Nah, I’ve got nothing to complain about.”
“It’s okay to be honest and vulnerable.” I wince at the supportive force in my tone.
Brody’s exhale is heavy. “Want to hear something crazy?”
“Always.”
“I’m starting to think barbwire might be tying us together. Like fate.” He nods at my glitzy ring finger.
I move my hand and the diamonds sparkle on cue. “You believe in fate?”
“Maybe. There might be something greater at work here.” His gaze lifts to the sky, scanning the blanket of stars.
I can tell his thoughts rest on Marion. The relentless desire to offer comfort perches on my tongue but I don’t want to pry. Whenever I’ve tried, it’s backfired.
“That’s a nice thought,” I murmur instead.
A lazy smirk spanks his lips. “You might save my soul yet, Twinkles.”
Emotion catches in my throat. Brody is an open book right now. I find myself wanting more before he closes himself off again.
“So, why are you drinking by yourself in the hot tub?”
Brody sends me a blank stare. “It’s my wedding night. I’m celebrating.”
“ Our ,” I correct on a whisper.
He leans forward slightly. “What was that?”
“It’s our wedding night.”
“Does that mean you’ll celebrate with me? ”
I roll my lips between my teeth and consider the options. “Maybe I should… go to bed.”
But running away doesn’t sit right in my gut.
Brody must agree, choosing that second to splash me. “Get in here. I’m lonely.”
That stops me short. I’ve never heard Brody claim a weakness other than needing a wife to own his company. This is… vastly different.
He’s being somewhat vulnerable, especially for him. It makes me want to toss caution to the wind.
“I don’t have a suit.”
He scoffs. “Bra and panties will do.”
“You’re not seeing me in my underwear.”
His palm glides along the stone pavers, inches from my leg. “Find something else to wear.”
“How about a compromise?” I kick off my sandals and sit on the ledge, slowly easing my feet beneath the surface. Warmth instantly shoots through me and I sag into the comforting embrace. “Ohhh, the temperature is just right.”
“See? Not so bad.”
I nudge him with my elbow. “Boozy Brody is nice.”
“That’s the effect of the whirlpool talking. It’s very persuasive.”
“Really? I was thinking we were headed to a truce.” Which is a huge leniency on my part.
Brody scratches at his jaw. “Oh, we’re back to that?”
“We don’t have to fight,” I reiterate.
“Couldn’t agree more, wife for life. This calls for a toast.” He pulls out a fresh bottle of champagne from behind him.
“Where are you getting this stuff? ”
“In the cooler.” He hitches a thumb at the hidden compartment carved into the deck.
“Fancy ass lodging,” I mumble.
“Hmm?”
“Not important. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”
“And tonight we drink,” Brody booms.
Nimble fingers get busy unwrapping the foil. His impressive talent has the cork popped before I can blink. Bubbles spill along the sides, revealing that he’s not perfect. He hammers it home by slurping the excess as it trickles down. It’s entirely too provocative but I can’t look away.
Once the fizzy stream stops, he holds the bottle out to me. “Want some?”
“I’ll get a cup.” My voice is scratchy.
Green settles on blue as we lock eyes. “Afraid to get my germs?”
“Very. You might rub off on me.”
Brody’s lips curve into a devastating smile that roots me in place. “What if I promise to be gentle?”