Chapter 25 #2
The last time we were together was not hurried and frantic, and not just because there had been four times before that, not including the times he’d gone down on me. He’d been generous with orgasms—seriously generous.
I knew why I’d blocked that out, that last time. It made the scene at the door when we were saying goodbye all that more painful to remember.
God, I’d been such a coward.
So damn stupid.
“You jumping in your seat isn’t nothing, Brooklyn.”
“Sorry. I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“You.”
“And that made you jump in your seat and snap your seat belt?”
“I was remembering something you told me about your dad.”
I wasn’t sure this was the best time to have this conversation but I also knew that we’d procrastinated enough. If I didn’t tell him now what I remembered the phone could ring with a new drama. So it was now.
“My dad?”
His voice sounded funny, like it had years ago when he’d told me his worst memory.
“You told me your best memory was being on the back of your dad’s Harley.”
The air around me turned stale and my skin started tingling.
“Cool. Your dad has a Harley?” Remy rambled from behind me.
“He does,” Rhode confirmed, his voice still gruff and not right.
And it was the gruffness and waves of unfriendly energy rolling off of Rhode that made me lose my nerve to go on. I didn’t even have the courage to look at him. So I kept my gaze averted, clamped my mouth shut, and watched the nothingness of trees pass by.
It happened a few minutes after I’d fallen quiet. The unfriendliness turned into hostility when Rhode broke the silence.
“And my worst memory.”
He let that hang in the air.
Though that said it all because he knew if I was thinking about his best, I was also thinking about his worst.
“And yours,” he went on. “Your parents dying.”
I sucked in a breath as the sadness tore through me.
“Yes.”
“I never told anyone what he did.”
I assumed he was talking about his father taking off for sometimes months to chase the wind. Whatever the hell that meant.
“He’s still living his life for his next adventure. Only now, he at least takes his wife.”
Translation: he still leaves me.
So much was becoming clearer.
“It’s not the same, Rhode. Not even close.”
“It’s not?” he snarled.
“No, honey, it’s not. You didn’t have a choice. He did and he still does. There’s a big difference.”
The heaviness lingered and the quiet was damn near suffocating. Not even Remington uttered a peep as Rhode drove.
I was lost in my head wondering what in the world I was thinking bringing up a topic that I knew wasn’t pleasant in front of Remy when Rhode’s hand picked up mine off my lap. He brought our combined hands up to his mouth, kissed my palm, then rested them on his thigh.
“I shouldn’t’ve snapped at you,” Rhode started. I glanced back and saw Remy’s eyes were closed and his head lulled to the side in that way only a kid could sleep without waking up with severe neck pain. “He fell out about ten minutes ago.”
“I should’ve waited or maybe not brought it up at all.”
“No, Brooklyn, you should never hold back asking or telling me something. But I was talking more about up at the cabin. I shouldn’t’ve lost it.”
“Back atcha, Rhode. I need to trust that when something’s heavy on your mind, you’ll tell me. And you need to trust me enough to tell me.”
There was a stretch of silence—not comfortable but not uncomfortable. I just didn’t feel the need to fill it.
“I don’t want you to think I’m staying because I got issues with my dad.”
“But you do have issues with your dad.”
“How can I not? He was great when he was around but he had no problem taking off whenever the spirit moved him. My mom’s been making excuses for his behavior for as long as I can remember.
And maybe, she truly didn’t mind her husband taking off, but not once did either of them ask me how I felt about it.
And neither cared when I left to join the Navy.
It was like I lived in their house, they provided everything I needed, but we weren’t a family, we just lived together.
And when I left, they packed up and hit the road.
I feel no connection to them. Months pass with no communication and I don’t feel the loss.
Years go by and I don’t see them and I don’t long for a visit.
That’s screwed up. But what’s more, I didn’t have a bad childhood.
Really, I had it better than most. So I’ve got nothing to complain about, yet here I am approaching forty wondering why my dad didn’t love me enough to stay home.
You know something else that’s screwed up?
I found out I had a son and reaching out to my parents to tell them they had a grandchild was an afterthought.
My first call wasn’t to them to share my happy news.
My first thought wasn’t that I couldn’t wait for them to meet Remington.
It was a passing thought that I should email.
And I never want to be a passing thought to my son.
I want to be his first call when he has good news.
I want to be in the forefront of my son’s mind. ”
My son sharing wisdom with me that another man taught him.
Shattered.
Horrified.
Crushed.
That was what I felt hearing Rhode tell me about his parents. It was also what I felt when I realized how badly I’d screwed up.
“I asked you to be careful with my heart and I’m seeing I haven’t been careful with yours and I’m sorry.
I was so hellbent on showing you what I thought I wanted you to know I didn’t think about what I was saying and how that might make you feel.
I didn’t want you to think I wanted you around for money. ”
“Brook—”
“Please, honey, listen for a second. It’s important to me that you know that I’ve wanted you in my life—in Remy’s life—not because I needed your financial support. But it came across as us not needing you at all and that’s not the truth.
“I’ve needed you since the day I saw the plus sign on the pregnancy test. I needed you when I was craving mac and cheese but I was too tired to get out of bed to make it.
I needed you when I was so scared of being a single mom I balled up on my bed and cried.
I needed you badly when I was in labor and in pain and depressed because you weren’t there.
And I love Letty but part of me was so mad she was there holding my hand because you weren’t.
I’ve needed you every second of every day and so has Remington.
But in all those times I needed you and didn’t have you, I learned how strong I was.
I learned to be a good mom. I did the best I could. ”
I stopped to take a breath then rushed out the rest of what he needed to know.
“You said something about making up for the lost time in a meaningful way. Honey, you’re not seeing it but just you being here is meaningful.”
“Brooklyn,” he rasped.
“And you fit into our lives because you’re the missing piece we’ve been waiting for.”
“Baby, please stop talking.”
“Rhode—”
“I’m begging you. Right now, while I’m driving and the two most important people are in the car with me, please, baby, give me this and stop talking.”
“Okay,” I stammered, not understanding.
“I lied to you,” he rapped out and my body stilled.
“What?”
“I told you I was falling in love with you. But that’s a lie, Brooklyn. And I think since you were thinking back on the night we shared you know exactly when it stopped being one thing and turned into something else.”
“I remember,” I confirmed on a whisper.
Rhode picked up my hand, kissed my palm, and settled our hands back on his lap. I didn’t feel his lips touch my skin, though I knew they had. I was too busy trying not to hyperventilate.
“Now, I’m seeing we did a few things right that night.”
We did a lot of things right that night including making Remington. But I didn’t say that.
“What’d we do right?”
“Chicken or steak?”
I felt my lips curve into a smile and scooted in my seat so I could face him.
“Steak. You?”
“Same. Football or baseball?”
“Neither. You?”
“Both.”
I internally sighed, hoping I wasn’t in for a lifetime of sports on the television. Then I wondered if I’d give a shit a game was on the TV if it meant he and Remy were planted on the couch together watching. I found I didn’t give a shit.
“The Navy?” I prompted.
“Did twelve years, ten of those as a SEAL. When I met you I’d been out a few years and was living in Virginia.
I was pretty much aimless, working as an investigator mostly for law firms. It was boring as shit but it paid well and kept me busy.
I was working on something that brought me to D.C.
and I ran into Wilson. He was working at Homeland then but getting ready to make a move.
He needed men for an off-the-books taskforce that would work with the feds on human trafficking cases.
He asked if I was interested and I jumped on that. ”
A SEAL.
I couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter from bursting from my chest.
“What’s funny?”
“Let me tell you a little story about this time when I was sitting in a bar enjoying a cheeseburger and the hottest guy I’d ever laid eyes on walked in.
So there I was sitting in a booth after spending all day at a book signing.
A romantic suspense book signing. Now, see, I read a lot of romance so my imagination runs wild, I can make up stories in my head about everyone I see and meet.
Which of course I did that night. My first thought was you were law enforcement, then I thought military, fed, or marshal. ”
“Seriously?” He chuckled.
“Yep. It was the way you moved—confident and alert.”
“Let's get back to this book signing.”
“I was there to support some of the authors I narrate for. Letty was upstairs in our hotel room sleeping. I was messaging her on my laptop after you sat down begging her to bring me my phone so I could take one of those covert snapshots. You know, where I find a shiny surface to take a picture of your reflection so you wouldn’t catch me.
But being the good friend she is she refused to allow me to turn into a stalker and wouldn’t come down. The end.”
“Hardly the end. Smutties?”
I glanced back to check that Remington was still asleep and when I found him still snoozing I answered.
“Smutties is all about romance. Mostly indie-published books.”
“Smut romance?”
“You can call it that as long as you’re calling it smut as a compliment. Sexy romance.”
“I gathered that when I walked in on you reading.”
Gah. That was embarrassing. Which made no sense because thousands of people listen to me. But they don’t get to hear me practice.
“Do you like what you do?” he asked.
“Love it. Couldn’t think of a better job. My hours are flexible. I love the authors I work with. And I get to read books for a living. It’s my dream job.” That got me thinking about Letty and her dream. “Did Wilson update you on the bookstore?”
“No, Sugar. But when we get to the house you can call Letty and ask her yourself.”
Thank God.
I missed her.
“Favorite number?” I asked.
“One-ten. You?”
I gave him a smirk and answered, “Same.”
“Dog or cat?” he inquired.
“Dog.”
And that was how we spent the next thirty minutes.
Back and forth. Getting to know the most trivial facts about each other.
It was everything.