17. Anya
CHAPTER 17
The smell of bacon wakes me up from sleep. I squint and take in my environment. It’s almost noon. A streak of sunlight pours into the room from the slight parting between the drapes.
I slept over six hours. I haven’t slept that long since I had Kira. It’s refreshing to have someone around to look after her so I can rest. Gigi tries, but I don’t expect her to put her life on hold for me and Kira.
I yawn and climb out of bed. There’s a text from Mr. White when I pick up my phone from the nightstand. It’s a reply to the message I sent last night to let him know that Kira was sick and I wouldn’t be able to make it to the clinic this morning.
His reply is short and simple. Take two days off if you need. I’ll take care of things over here.
Mr. White is such a nice man. In fact, everyone in this town is. I may not be earning as much as I could, but I’ll never regret the choice I made to move here.
I silently make my way to Kira to check in on her, she is sleeping soundly. Placing the back of my hand against her forehead, I feel a sense of relief wash over me as I realize her fever has finally gone.
My daughter is really peaceful in her sleep, and I spend a couple more minutes watching her before I follow the smell of bacon to the kitchen.
Brandon is standing in the kitchen, dressed only in sweatpants and no shirt. His bare chest reveals an intricate network of scars and defined muscles. My body can't help but react to his hotness; I feel a throbbing sensation deep within me. For a moment, memories flood my mind - that first night on my couch, and last night with him. I recall the way he felt against me, his scent, the way he touched me. It takes all my mental strength not to walk over and rip off the only piece of clothing he has left on.
Brandon hums a tune to himself as he flips the sizzling bacon in the pan, his muscles flexing with each movement. He turns around at the sound of my footsteps and flashes me a boyish grin I haven’t seen for a long time. “Morning, sunshine,” he greets me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I can’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the sunny kitchen.
Sunshine. Not bad at all.
I lean against the counter, watching him move with practiced ease. There’s a comfortable silence between us, broken only by the occasional pop and sizzle of the cooking bacon.
“Smells delicious,” I finally say, breaking the quiet. I’m not trying to flatter him, the food does smell like a bite of it will steal my soul. Is there anything this man isn’t good at? He cooks, he is such a great father, and he’s handsome. If perfection were a person, it would be him.
He smiles. “Well, I aim to please. Figured you could use a good meal.”
I nod, grateful for his thoughtfulness. It was rough with Kira's fever spiking, and having Brandon here taking care of us made everything seem a little easier. Thanks to him, I was able to get enough sleep, and now he’s even making me brunch.
Brandon sets two plates on the kitchen table, each loaded with crispy bacon, fluffy scrambled eggs, and buttered toast. He pours a glass of orange juice for me and a cup of coffee for himself before joining me at the table. As we eat in companionable silence, I steal glances at him, admiring the way his tousled hair falls over his forehead and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.
“What are your plans for today?”
I shrug. “I don’t have any.” I lean toward him. “Why are you asking? Don’t tell me you’re planning to take me out. Before you get any ideas, remember what happened the last time we did that.”
“We had the most beautiful girl in the world as our daughter.” He cocks his brow as his gaze meets mine. “I don’t have any regrets, Anya. Not one.”
Tears prickle my eyes. I’d been so worried, and it had all been for nothing. It feels good to finally have someone in my corner. Someone who loves Kira just as much as I love her. “Thank you.”
He tilts his head. “For what?”
“For loving our daughter this much.”
He reaches for my hand across the table and squeezes it gently. “You don’t have to thank me for anything. If anything, I should be the one thanking you. Which brings me to the topic of breaking the news to everyone else.”
My stomach churns. “Everyone else? You mean your family?”
He nods.
I’m still not confident enough to face them. I wonder what his parents will think of me, and Spencer is going to hate this. But that childish asshole is the least of my problems right now.
I’m nervous, but I know there’s no better time to tell them than now. “When?”
“Tomorrow evening. I’ll pick you girls up.”
As the words leave Brandon’s lips, a mix of nerves and excitement swirl in my stomach. Meeting his family formally has been a long time coming, and despite my fears, I know it's the right thing to do. Kira deserves to have both of her parents and her grandparents present in her life, and if that means facing scrutiny from Brandon’s family, then so be it.
I nod, trying to keep the anxiety at bay. “Tomorrow evening it is then.”
Brandon’s smile is reassuring, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. “Everything will be fine, Anya. My family already adores you. Especially Alessa.”
I chuckle lightly, feeling warmth spread through me at his words. “Let’s hope they do.”
Brandon insists on doing the dishes when we’re done eating. I offer to make him a fresh cup of coffee since he barely had enough rest after taking care of Kira this morning.
I walk toward the cabinet where I keep the mugs. “I need a cup.”
We both reach for the cabinet at the same time. Our hands brush against each other, sending a jolt of electricity waltzing through me.
Our eyes meet, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. There's a shift in the air between us. It crackles with an energy that I can’t ignore. Brandon's gaze drifts from my eyes to my lips, his thumb grazing my hand softly.
Without breaking eye contact, he takes a step closer, his breath mingling with mine. I can feel the heat emanating from his body, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. And just as I part my lips to speak, he leans in, closing the distance between us.
“You are so beautiful, Anya. I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long, stay with you and look after Kira” he whispers in a husky tone.
My heart races in my chest. I’ve dreamt him too— dreamt everything about him.
The world around us fades away as our lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss. His touch is both familiar and electrifying.
His lips are warm and inviting, fitting perfectly against mine, as if they were made to be there. The kiss deepens, igniting a passion that had been smoldering beneath the surface. I feel myself melting into him, my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my touch.
In that moment, there is only Brandon and I, lost in a whirlwind of emotions. The world outside ceases to exist as we stand there, locked in an embrace that speaks volumes without a single word being uttered.
He lifts me onto the kitchen counter, rips off my nightgown, and makes love to me in the most passionate and sensual way a person could possibly make love to another.
When we’re both spent, he kisses the top of my head. He doesn’t say a word after, he just holds me tight. His eyes are filled with emotion when I look at him, and I can’t pinpoint whether it’s just because of how good the sex was or if there are other things going through his head.
Things like what we are now, what our future holds, and if there’s even a future between us. I want to ask, to know where we stand, and set clear boundaries if we need to. We’re both Kira’s parents, we can’t keep having sex until one of us decides they’re tired of the other and moves on. I don’t want us to do anything that’ll build resentment between us, because Kira will be affected, but I don’t want to make things awkward. Not now at least.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, pulling away gently.
I blink up at him like an idiot. I want to tell him everything, but I don’t want to sound pathetic, so I lie. “Nothing. I’m just thinking of how good it felt to be like this with you again.”
He spreads his arms wide at my sides, clenching the edges of the counter. “And?”
“And…” I drag out the word. I have no idea what he expects me to say. “We should take Kira out to the park sometimes.”
I’m deviating from his question, and I hope he doesn’t notice.
“That’s not what I’m asking, Anya.” His voice is deep and sensual in a way that makes me fluster. “I’m talking about us.”
I laugh nervously and pin my gaze to the door. I’m too embarrassed to look at him. “What about us, Brandon? Are you going to say this was something special?”
My pulse rate quickens. I have no idea what he’s going to say, but I know that is what I want him to say. Yet I don't say it. I can’t because what if that’s not what he wants? I’ll only ruin things between us.
“Yes, this wasn’t just sex to me,” he says. “It wasn’t two years ago and it isn’t now. What we share is special, Anya. Better than anything I’ve ever felt with anyone, and it’s not just because you’re Kira’s mom.”
I’m forced to look at him now. Forced to look vulnerable, because he’s opening up to me and I can’t keep on pretending I don’t feel the same way. My voice isn’t more than a croak as I ask, “What was it then?”
“Everything.” He brings his face a little closer to mine. “I’ve missed out on a lot. Missed out on Kira and you for two fucking years. I’ve never stopped thinking about how different things could have been if I’d just never been a SEAL, if I’d been a normal man. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it either.”
His chest rises and falls with his shaky breaths, revealing the turmoil beneath his calm exterior. I swallow hard, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. The emotion that fills his gaze is both raw and real, and I can't help but be moved by his honesty.
“I know I've been a mess after these years away,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “But I'm trying to be better, for Alessa and Kira and for you. For us." He takes a step back, his eyes shining with an intensity that makes my knees weak.
“For us?” I ask, my voice trembling. I think I’ll cry if I say anything more.
“For us. I wish I could say that everything will be perfect, but I can't. All I know is that I want to try, I want to be a better person. I want to fix myself. I no longer want to let those nightmares haunt me, those monsters from watching my friend bleed out and being unable to help him.”
Ice washes over me. I can’t stop my jaw from falling open or hide the horror on my face. “What do you mean?”
“You see why I hate myself so much?” His voice cracks with tears. “I stood there and watched while he fought for his life. He called my name and tried to reach out to me, but I was too afraid and in shock to do anything. He almost died, and it’s all because of me.”
A wave of sadness crashes over me, like a sharp stab to the heart. The weight of regret and guilt pulls at my chest, knowing that he went through all of this pain while I was blinded by anger and resentment. Why couldn't I see it before? His transformation suddenly makes sense.
"Brandon," I choke back tears as I reach out to him. "It wasn't your fault." My words are barely audible over the sound of my own sobs, but I hope he can hear the sincerity in them.
“But it is. What if no one else was there? He would have died. I was such a coward.”
“No.” I won’t let him do that. I can’t allow him to continue blaming himself for something that wasn’t his fault. I cup his face. “Brandon, you were not a coward.”
He looks away.
“Brandon, look at me.”
He reluctantly lifts his eyes to meet mine.
“Whatever happened on that battlefield wasn’t your fault. It’s normal to be afraid, even for someone as strong as you.” My eyes burn with tears. “You did your best. You fought for your country, and I’m sure your friend doesn’t blame you for it.”
Brandon's eyes glisten with unshed tears as he searches my gaze for any sign of doubt. I see the torment in his eyes, the weight of his past bearing down on him like a heavy anchor threatening to drag him under. But in that moment, as our eyes lock in a silent understanding, I see a glimmer of hope flicker to life within him.
“I wish I could believe that, Anya,” Brandon whispers, his voice strained with emotion. “But the guilt…I don’t think it will ever go away.”
I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before speaking. “No, it may never completely disappear. But you can learn to carry it better. You don't have to face your demons alone, Brandon. I'm here for you, for Kira and Alessa.” My voice cracks as I say the last words. “For us.”