Our Chance (Los Rancheros #4) Page 10

  My face crumbles as my eyes flood and spill over, running down my cheeks in rivulets.

  Brody smiles and brings both hands to my face, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “Why are you crying, my girl?” he asks quietly. “We’ve always belonged to each other, even when we were with other people. It just wasn’t our time yet.”

  “I’m sorry I was such a crazy bitch.” Saying those words frees something inside of me that has been painfully tight for a long, long time.

  “We were just young, darlin’. I said some stupid shit, too. Hell, I did some stupid shit. That’s part of growing up.” He looks me up and down playfully before saying in his sleaziest voice, “and you grew up real nice.”

  I burst out laughing. I’m still laughing when Brody kisses me. I’m giggling when he fans my hair out in a curtain that surrounds us as he pulls me on top of him. I’m smiling when he pulls a condom from his pocket and I’m gasping as he slides inside of me for the first time in an eternity.

  Brody was right. This is our time.

  It takes some adjusting on both of our parts, little things that should make the whole event awkward, but this is really all the two of us have known together so it never gets weird.

  I only last on top for the time it takes my body to fully accept Brody, then he’s rolling us, gripping my hands by my head, surging into me. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers hoarsely, making me want to close my eyes to heighten my senses. I want that voice all around me. But I don’t. Because I want to see the sweat falling down his temple. I want to see the glitter in his eyes as he sits up and tears his shirt over his head. I want to see the scars that pepper his body. My mind instantly catalogs them to go over later.

  Brody lets go of my hands briefly to loop my legs over his forearms before grabbing them again. We’re effectively both holding my thighs wide for him to pick up the pace.

  “Oh god, Jules. You’ve got to come, baby. I can’t handle this much longer,” Brody says before looking down to where we’re joined and moving faster.

  He doesn’t need to prompt me, I was right there before he started talking. But his voice, his scent, his body, everything that I’ve ever wanted is over me, filling me, loving me and I’m set free.

  Chapter 9

  “Where did you go last night?” I ask as the sun starts to come up. We’ve been talking and touching through the night, but that had yet to come up. I’m almost afraid he’s going to tell me he’s in the mafia or something.

  Brody clears his throat and rolls to his side, bringing our noses together. “When I moved back here I got into security. There was a situation I had to take care of last night. No big deal.”

  I process this for a minute. “So that’s where you go in the mornings?”

  He nods sleepily. “Yeah, most mornings and any other time they need me.”

  “So you’re a part time security guard, part time orchard over hauler. Diverse man.”

  Brody reaches for me, rolling so that he’s straddling my waist and begins to tickle me. “That’s a stupid name. Pick something else.”

  “Bodyguard?” I ask through my laughter, writhing against him.

  “Not that. The other one. Just say I work the farm,” Brody says as he pins my hands above my head. He likes to do that, I’ve noticed.

  “I’ll agree if you let me get some sleep. Seriously, I’m so tired. We aren’t kids that can pull all-nighters anymore.”

  His eyes swing to the curtained window that’s letting in the first rays of the sun then back to me. “Damn, would you look at that? Looks like I win, and you aren’t as old as you think.”

  “Looks like it’s past my bedtime.” I try to roll over, but he still has my hands.

  “Alright, baby. You win.” Brody releases my hands to brush the hair back from my face. I watch him warily.

  “Why?”

  His head tilts to the side a little. “When was the last time you had nothing to do? I wanted you awake with me so that I could spend time with you. But I can hold you when you’re sleeping, too.”

  I can’t help but sigh. “I love you.” The words slip out, but as much as I should be wanting to take them back, the feeling never comes. I watch as the lines around his eyes relax.

  “That’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” He kisses my mouth, gets up to leave, but returns twice more before leaving to take care of the animals. As he opens the door, our dogs slip through. And with them, reality.

  My eyes skid over to the mirror above the dresser. I look like I’ve been fucking all night. Who sends their kids away so they can have sex with a man that just walked back into their life a couple of weeks ago? Oh my God. I jump out of bed, frantically throwing my dress over my head. I write a note to Brody, telling him I’m going to get breakfast. I’m out the door two seconds later, sprinting for my van. I don’t look around to see if he’s watching me go. I don’t even care. I just know I can’t stay in his bed. I have to get away.

  When I finally get out of the Los Rancheros gate, I look to the right at the Farmer’s Market that’s just coming to life, then left to the airport. My mind wants to get on a plane. Right now. I feel like my husband is slipping through my fingers. Already the slightly faded image of him is getting dimmer.

  I turn the wheel to the right. I go to the person who has always been there. I go to the person who made me eat, made me smile for my babies, who was there for everything that followed Sebastian coming home for the last time.

  I have enough sense to pull a hair tie from around the blinker and wrangle my hair as I jog into the warehouse. Venders are setting up, carting in their wares. Chefs and restaurateurs from all over the state are here, on a Sunday, just to get the freshest organic produce. Arms and hands reaching and grabbing faster than the vendors can set their products down.

  I bump into numerous people in my haste. Mumbling apologies, I push my way through to where I know she’ll be. I see her dark brown hair almost as soon as I turn the corner, shrieking out a “Mom!” that has several heads turning. Her head turns the fastest and without thought, she’s dropping everything. She gets to me first. She grabs my face as it crumbles and tries to read me.

  “Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?”

  My arms hug her to me as tight as I can, forcing her hands to let go of my cheeks and band around me just as tightly. The only person who has been there through all of my pain, and gotten me out of it again.

  I sob the loss of my husband again, and my confusion in how strong my feelings for Brody have resurfaced.

  Eventually Mom has to drag me to the side, since we’re blocking the aisle. She pushes my shoulders away from her and studies me before saying, “Okay. Let’s get a coffee.” And it’s silly that one little sentence said in a strong voice would calm me. But it does, like nothing else could have in that moment. My eyes close and my shoulders sag as I let out a deep breath. She steers me to the back of the warehouse, waving at her friends as we pass like I’m not having a total breakdown.

  Mom sets me on a stool in the back corner of the café, leaving me to get drinks. She comes back with mochas and chocolate muffins on a china plate, like some European cafe She grabs a handful of napkins, wets them with a bottled water, and shoves them into my hand. “Wipe your face and tell me what happened, doll.”

  The napkin comes away smudged with black from my mascara. I can only imagine what I look like. The cool water feels good on my hot face.

  “I just . . . Where are the kids?” I deflect. She knows it.

  “They were sleeping when I left, but Dad’s doing chores close to the house until they get up. Then they’ll tag along with him for a bit.” She gives me an explanation anyway, because she knows that now that I’ve asked I won’t be able to let it go. Then she gives me an expectant look.

  I sigh and tear off a chunk of my warm muffin, moaning when the rich chocolate chips melt in my mouth. “Brody,” I say in explanation, like she’ll automatically know everything I could possibly mean by that one word. She
nods her head and takes a drink. Maybe she does.

  “Darlin’, you’ll never have another Sebastian. There will never be another father to your children in the way that Sebastian was. There can’t be. He will always be your first husband. You learned to be a woman with him. Those are things that will always be his. Just like Brody was your first love, he took your virginity. Those are things that Sebastian dealt with, and Brody is dealing with now. You have something else to go through all together. You have guilt.”

  I nod, tears spilling over again at the thought of what Sebastian would be feeling right now. Mom takes my hands and squeezes firmly.

  “How long do you have to be alone, Juliet?” she asks quietly. “How long do you have to raise those kids without a man in their life? Trigg has such anger sometimes. Jet is fluttering like a moth bouncing off of a light. Harper—”

  “Harper thinks Brody is hot,” I interrupt her. She chuckles into her drink, giving me a grin when she sets her cup down.

  “That’s natural. Everybody would probably be open to this idea of a relationship, except the person who’s had the most time to process. No one can fault you for moving on. No one will. It’s been five years.

  “Do you love that boy? I don’t mean a young girl’s love that can be replaced by a pretty face. I mean the love that will last you when your faces aren’t so pretty anymore. It’ll get you through the snoring, and gout.”

  I sniff and look into the eyes that are exactly the same shade as mine. My head moves up and down. She leans in, so that our faces are close together, and whispers, “Then why are you here with me?”

  ~

  I park the van and take a deep breath. Brody is sitting on his bottom step, his hands falling between his raised knees. I hold out the bag of muffins when I approach him, his eyes scanning my face. There’s no hiding I’ve been crying. I didn’t get blessed with that gene that doesn’t leave my skin red and puffy.

  He takes the bag and takes his stairs two at a time, I follow much slower to find the door open for me. Brody is at his desk, all of the monitors lit up to show different parts of the gated community, some screens divided into multiple frames. There are charts and maps on another.

  “You said you were a security guard?” I ask. It seems like a lot.

  “You said I was a security guard,” he fires back. I take a step back and he sighs, turning to face me. “Where did you go?”

  I point feebly to the bed. “I left a note.”

  “Yeah. ‘Went for Breakfast.’ You do realize you live on a fucking farm, right?”

  “So?”

  “So. You have bacon, eggs, and a garden. What else could you possibly want?” Brody demands. He’s really mad. I don’t blame him, but I had to straighten things out in my head.

  “I brought bagels and cream cheese. I’m sorry I left.”

  “You tell me you love me, you leave, and you’ve been crying. I’m not feeling as good as I was an hour ago.”

  “I came back.”

  He throws his hands out. “It’s your fucking house!” Hmm. That is true. I walk over to him slowly, still in last night’s dress. Brody watches me warily, hurt in his eyes. I hate that look.

  “I love you, Brody Dentin.” I thread my fingers into his short hair. He just watches me, not saying it back. I don’t need to hear the words. I know. “Yeah, I freaked out. I’ve been with two men in my life, and the last was my husband. Don’t think I didn’t freak out on him the first time, too.”

  He pulls his head away from my hand, incredulous. “You think I want to hear that shit?”

  “No, you’re right.” Why did I always have to mess everything up? “I just needed to process everything.”

  “So why were you crying?”

  I sigh again and move to the edge of the bed. “I don’t know how to explain it to you in a way that would make sense. I loved my husband. I expected us to grow old together. I know that’s not what you want to hear. When he died, a part of me died, and now that I feel like I’m replacing him it hurts as much as it feels better. I don’t know what this is, or why it’s happening so fast.”

  Brody rests his hands on his knees and wipes across his face. “I don’t want to replace your husband, Jules. I just want to get to know you. You don’t know shit about me anymore. I missed you more than air, but we don’t know who we are. Let us learn each other. If ever there’s a time to freak out, it’s if one of your kids want to call me Dad.”

  My hand flies to my mouth in sheer reaction as my eyes fill with tears.

  “Oh shit,” he chuckles and pries my hands away from my face. “Not now. Someday they might want to. Especially Jet. But my point is, that’s when you can worry about replacing their dad. Not right now.”

  I see his point, and yet still think he’s wrong. Today I wasn’t thinking about replacing their dad, but my husband. Those two things are separate in my head and overlap in the center. But to give my heart and body to another man is moving on.

  “You’re not even thirty years old. You were widowed at twenty-four. That’s tragic and heartbreaking, but you never wanted to live the rest of your life alone, did you?” Brody asks as he climbs the bed on his knees, crowding me, making me look into his eyes as I answer the question.

  “I never thought about it. I just raised my babies,” I answer quietly, our breath mixing together as we get closer.

  “Weren’t you lonely, baby?” he whispers against my lips.

  “Yes,” I breathe into his mouth just before he sips from my lips slowly. His hands find the band in my hair and pull it out before moving to my dress and sliding it off as well.

  “You’re my end, Juliet. You’re it. Yes, I have loved after you, and I may well have to love again. But I’ve loved you my whole life, and all of the times in between. Even when I thought I didn’t. Even when I didn’t want to.”

  My breath halts in my chest at his words and I suddenly need to see him. I push until he relents and rolls to his back. He lifts up so that I can take away the shirt that’s obstructing my view. I spread my fingers wide, trying to touch as much of him as I can. My fingertips curl into his flesh and I lightly scrape across the ridges of his stomach. Brody rewards me with a growl that has me bending to taste the little red streaks forming from my nails.

  “Oh, my girl,” he sighs as my mouth makes the journey to his left nipple, then right. “I love your tongue.”

  He gets an extra flick for the comment before I move to the cords of his neck, all of the straining tendons and popping veins as he tries to catch my mouth. His hands move me to grind against his jean-covered erection. Brody can’t get to my mouth, so he latches onto my neck and shoulder, sucking and biting, causing goose bumps to form down my arms and back.

  “You want to walk away from me, Jules?” he rasps. I shake my head as he arches against my grind, getting me hotter, wetter for him. “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No. Don’t stop, please,” I beg as he rolls me over. He quickly sheds his shorts and puts on a condom. He holds himself away from me, my fingers trying to draw him down so that I can feel our skin against each other again. But he resists, rubbing his cock against me in perfect circles.

  “Do you deserve to feel like a woman?” My eyes are rolled back in my head. I couldn’t form words if I wanted to. “Do you deserve pleasure? Love? Answer me.” He breaks the contact, allowing my brain to start working again.

  “Yes. Yes, from you. I want your love, and you give me more pleasure than I can stand. You make me feel beautiful,” I say through blurry eyes.

  Finally he enters me, fills me with so many feelings my hair feels like it’s standing up. He collapses onto his elbows, rolling his hips into me, our chests gliding against each other. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, Juliet.”

  Chapter 10

  Two weeks later, things are the same for the most part. Brody has dinner with us, we hang out with our families together. We don’t advertise a relationship beyond friendship around the kids, but after
the kids leave for school we christen my house as Brody helps me redecorate. Gran accumulated a lot in her life, so we go about integrating my life with hers. We give family and friends knickknacks that don’t have a place and take some of my things to the thrift store.

  Our physical relationship is confined to school hours in between work. Birth control was taken care of the Monday after our weekend sleepover.

  The kids are accepting him far faster than I would have thought. But they only know a part of it. I’m afraid of taking the next step too soon. However, things change when I get a call from the school.

  Brody and I have just initiated my couch in the den, for the second time. Out of breath, I answer my cell phone as I slide off of the leather.

  “Hello?”

  “Yes, is this the mother of Trigg Montgomery?” a female voice asks professionally. I’m immediately terrified.

  “Yes, this is she.”

  “Mrs. Montgomery, this is Principle Foster from Bennett Elementary School. I’m afraid I’m going to ask you to come in for a meeting. Are you available?”

  I cast around for clothes that are scattered everywhere. “Yes. I’m available. Is everything okay? Is Trigg okay?” There’s a tickle in my throat, and I clear it as I try to step into my panties one handed. Brody is reaching for his pants at my tone, watching me warily.

  “Trigg had a little accident. I need you to come in to discuss it, if you would.”

  “Of course. I’ll be right there.” I disconnect and throw the phone down as I fasten my bra with shaking hands.

  “What’s wrong, babe? Is Trigg hurt?” Brody asks as he puts his shoes on. I look around for my shoes, not finding them, but spot my shirt and lunge for it.

  “I don’t know. That was the principal, said he had an accident. I don’t know,” I mumble, shoving my feet into flip-flops as I grab my purse.

  “Alright, let’s go. I’m driving.”

  “What? No,” I immediately protest. Brody stops and gently takes the keys from my hand.