“I think I’m going to have to call in my mom. My fingers are too big for this.”
“Then tear them off. It’s not like I’m ever going to wear this again.”
“Yeah, but you can donate it to charity or something. It was expensive, I imagine.”
He gets his mom, and she finagles the buttons much faster than Brandon could. When she’s gone, Brandon helps me out of the thing. And when I’m free, he does a double take.
“Damn.” He stares so long, I start to get self-conscious. “You are gorgeous, you know that?”
“No one has ever made me feel beautiful like you do.”
“You deserve someone who makes you feel that way all the time.”
His statement confuses me. “What are you saying? I thought… You came?”
“Braeden is the one who told me to go after you.” The moment is sobering.
There is plenty of time to talk about us. His brother is missing, and that’s the important thing.
“I’m here for you, and I’ll be here every step of the way. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, you let me know.”
His chest deflates, as he looks at me with the saddest eyes. I can’t help but walk into his arms and hold him close.
His words are soft and heartbreaking in my ear. “The Coast Guard has been called in to do an all out search. The boat sustained significant damage, and it’s being towed in. But I’m not sure anything else can be done, other than the search.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m here for you. If you need to lean on me, I’ll be here, anytime, any day of the week. Whatever you need, you say the word.”
“Thank you. I don’t know that there’s anything to do right now but wait.” He shakes his head. “I can’t think straight.”
“You don’t have to. Just think positive. Nothing is certain yet.”
He nods, and it’s plain to see he doesn’t believe it. It’s there in his eyes. He’s already assuming the worst.
He hands me the T-shirt and shorts, and I get dressed. We join his mom as we all wait for news of Braeden.
Twenty-Six
BRANDON
Late that evening, Jenna had fallen asleep on my lap. I carried her to my old bedroom and tucked an afghan around her. Back in the living room, I settle myself on the sofa as Brock ushers my mother out. Red-rimmed eyes don’t mask her exhaustion. He silently pats a comforting hand on my shoulder before leaving with her.
The TV is on with the news droning about senseless violence and repeating weather reports about the freaky storm that came out of nowhere. Somewhere in between there is a one-minute story about the wreckage and my missing brother, with no updates.
Resting my arms on my knees, I cover my face, never feeling more useless in my life. My phone buzzes, shocking the shit out of me. With fingers that no longer work, I try with utter desperation to free my phone from my pocket with hope for good news.
“Brandon,” my father says after my hasty greeting.
I cover my eyes again, not ready for the man.
“Yep,” I say.
“Any news?”
Worry laces his voice, and I breathe out old wounds. There isn’t time to hate the man, as he’s obviously shaken by Braedon’s disappearance as the rest of us.
“I hoped you had some,” I admit.
“Sorry, son. There’s nothing. The cops have spent too much time questioning us,” he means he and his girlfriend, “when they should be focused on the search.”
“Yeah, us, too.”
I couldn’t blame the police. They were only doing their job covering all the bases. Mom had lost it. Thank God for Jenna. She soothed her more than I’d known how.
“Did they allude to foul play?” Dad asks.
Frowning, I say, “No. Why would they? Clearly, there was wind shear that broke the mast causing the hull to crack.” I’d seen pictures of the destroyed boat on the news. “The storm that came out of nowhere did the rest.”
“You’re right. He’ll be okay,” Dad says as if he believes it.
“He will. He’s a strong swimmer. He probably passed out on the island. And when he wakes up, he’ll go for help.”
But even I’m not sure. It’s been hours. He should have been found by now.
“When he does, he’ll contact you first. He’s always going on about his big brother. You’re the one he looks up to, not me. You’ve been the man I should have been for him. I should have told him more often how proud I was of him, of both of you,” he adds.
“What a big brother I turned out to be. I should have been out there with him.” My voice breaks in the middle.
“Why? So both of you could be lost to us right now? He’ll make it. I believe in him like I believe in you. He was made for the water.”
“Yeah, I used to call him a merman.” I almost chuckle, but I choke on the words. “He has to make it.”
Dad, more concerned than he’s ever shown himself to be, blurts, “Should I come over? Your mom—”
“No, don’t. Brock is here for her. She…”
She what? Doesn’t need him to confuse the situation, I think. Mom’s weak when it comes to Dad. It’s only in the last few years, she’s learned to stay firm with her no’s.
Pleas for my brother’s safe return continue to echo in my head long after I hang up with my father. Braedon just has to survive. He’s going to be a father, though the child will lack for nothing. If the worst is true, I will take care of him or her along with Kym.
Hours turn into days, and by midweek, I have to go into work. Jeff and Dana have pulled in long hours to help out, but it doesn’t make up for an extra pair of hands. Mom’s out of a job at the moment and needing a distraction comes in to help. She works the front, so I can keep doing what I’m good at, because I suck as a brother. If I knew how to scuba dive, I could be out there helping with the search.
Jenna shows up after work and relieves Mom, handing her over to Brock, who’s driven over to pick Mom up.
“Brandon,” Mom cries, with the weight of a week gone by and no word.
“Go get some rest, Mom,” I say, trying like hell to keep my shit together.
Even I know when hope is lost. Divers, search and rescue on the ground and in the air, haven’t found my brother alive or recovered his body. It’s likely he’s been carried out into the ocean, or so the police have told us. They haven’t given up, but the effort has changed from rescue to recovery.
Mom squeezes me so tight I wonder where she finds the strength. When she pulls back, she aims a finger at Jenna. “You take care of my boy. He may be all I have left. And I can’t lose the other half of my heart.”
She breaks down again, and Jenna moves in to embrace her. “I will. I’ll keep him safe.”
Mom gives up on the brave face she’s donned during office hours for my customers. She manages to keep it together then. But every night that goes by, when she turns the Open sign to Closed, we go through this. And I hate myself for finding some peace in her words that she doesn’t want to lose me, too. I push the thought away, wanting my brother back safe and alive more than Mom’s love.
I’m thankful for one thing. Jenna’s been spending every night with me, though we haven’t talked much about us, which I appreciate. How can I possibly make things right between us, when my brother could be hurt and lost somewhere?
“What?” she asks.
Had I said that out loud?
“It should have been me,” I admit.
Her small hand cradles my cheek. “Don’t say that, Brandon.”
“Why not? He’s the best of us. The last week before he …” I can’t say it, so I skip the words. “He talked about maybe going to medical school. Plus, he has a kid on the way.”
Jenna had met Kym. The girl’s hysteria rivaled my mother’s. It had been so bad, her parents ventured into town to get her. Talk about an awkward meeting. Her parents had been nothing but kind and supportive to my mom, who had really lost her shit after they took Kym. She c
ried for hours about not being able to be near the only piece of Braedon she had left, her future grandchild. I blink away those thoughts as Jenna comes back into view.
She looks at me as if she could cry for the both of us. She leans in and wipes something wet from my cheek.
“I just want to feel something other than pain,” I say, unsure if I said it out loud or not.
Her fingers wrap around my wrist and lift them so my hand rests on her breast.
“Let me help you,” she says before gently placing her mouth on mine.
Suddenly, the lion in my chest roars to life. The blousy material of her button-down easily fists in my hands. I have no mercy when I tear the material to part down the middle. Her gasp is audible, but I’m lost to the find and seek of the pleasure I’ve been denying myself.
Frantically, she works her bra free, probably fearful I’ll destroy it, too. Buttons still ping on the wood floor as they bounce from the sofa to the floor until they come to rest.
I work her skirt up to bunch around her hips. Gripping the soft creamy skin of her thighs, I move one hand between her legs. Her back bows in response. I rub a finger between her slit and find her wet for me. Her moan sounds more like a purr. It’s like a mating call, and the fabric of my reality rips much like the scrap of silk I tear off of her. My sanity lasts long enough for me to hastily free myself.
Then I lower her slowly on my cock to wrap her warmth around me. Groaning, I manage not to lose control and slam myself inside her.
“Oh, Brandon,” she cries like she’s missed me, missed us.
She leans forward, pressing her breasts so close I have no choice but to suck the sweet bud that hardens for me into my mouth. Greedily, I devour and nip as she slowly works herself up and down my shaft.
Sounds of animalistic need fill the space as she manages to seat herself fully on me. All it takes is for her to roll her hips around once and I’m undone. My fingers dig into her flesh as I ride her up and down my length and buck my hips to find the end of her. Each time I hit bottom she whimpers.
When her walls clamp around me like a lug wrench tightening a bolt, I come so hard, it fills the little space left inside her.
I swallow her noises and kiss her, not wanting to pull out. Not yet. Reality waits for us on the other side, and I’m not ready to face it.
“Brandon,” she says, trying to catch her breath.
I hear the slight smile in her words. My eyes are closed; I can’t look at her just yet.
“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have,” I say.
“What?”
Slowly, I open my lids and see the concerned expression on her face. Gently, I lift her off of me, glad my sofa is made of leather. I get to my feet and tuck myself away before going into the kitchen to get a towel to help clean her up.
“What did you mean?” she asks tentatively when I’m done.
“The truth is, I’m happy you didn’t marry Kenneth. You deserve more.”
A smile touches her eyes, and I see the false hope I’ve created.
“And I want you. You know that, right?”
The end of her sentence sounds unsure. She must see the resolve on my face. Pressing my lips together a second, I pray I can do this.
“We both know your family will never accept me.”
“But you—”
“Let me finish,” I cut in.
She closes her mouth.
“Even if…” A little stronger, I echo, “Even if.” Pausing, I take the second I need to force out the words. “Kym needs me. If my brother is lost to us, I have to be there for her.”
Jenna’s pretty face screws up in confusion. “What are you saying? You’ll be with her, with her?”
I nod. “I wasn’t kidding when I said it should have been me. How can I possibly move on with my life and leave my brother’s fiancée to fend for herself?”
Her features soften as if she’s solved the puzzle this situation has created.
“Of course, you would want to take care of her. Who wouldn’t want you to? For a second it sounded like you’d marry her or something.” She laughs a little at the end.
I can’t laugh. Humor is a foreign concept in this moment.
“If that’s what’s best, I will,” I say with conviction. Though I don’t think it will come to that. “You, more than anybody else I know, understand sacrifices you make for your family.”
She smooths her skirt down her thighs with firm hands. “But you don’t love her.”
As if that matters.
“You didn’t love Kenneth.”
And it isn’t about love, I want to say. Kym needs me. I can’t possibly be happy while she’s lost my brother. She’s still having trouble with the pregnancy. I need to be there for her without any distractions outside of work, which I need in order to provide for her. Once the baby is born and she’s ready to move on again, I can think about myself. Until then, I have to be there for her however she needs me to. It’s what Braedon would want, though I tell Jenna none of that. It’s better to let her go.
Her voice rises. “But I’m not marrying him.”
The old hurt from those words she’d spoken to me months ago bursts to the surface. My sharp tone is laced with pain from knowing my brother is dead but not wanting to say it.
“You almost did. And if I hadn’t shown up, would you have?”
“No,” she blurts. “Before you came I was talking to my father about that very thing. If you’d only let me explain before. I thought my family would lose our business and everything we owned if I didn’t. But that was a lie.” She shakes her head. “Even my father told me to go after you when I explained that I was in love with you.”
Her words shake me.
“So he knows about me.”
“Yes,” she breathes.
I close my eyes, wishing that our timing were better. “It’s too late.”
Her eyes are huge, and tears begin to form.
“I told Kym she could continue to live here with me and that I’d take care of her.” The doorbell rings, which is why it had been a bad idea to have sex with Jenna. “That should be her.”
Fear has me heading for the door. If I look at Jenna a second longer, I’ll lose my resolve.
I open it, and Kym bursts through the opening to cling to me. “Brandon,” she cries with tears streaming down her face. I look over my shoulder at Jenna one last time and wish fate didn’t hate me so much.
Twenty-Seven
JENNA
Without so much as a backward glance, I sprint out of the house and get into my car. I’m sorry for Brandon and what he’s going through. And for poor Kym as well. It’s terrible to lose your brother, I would imagine. No, let me take that back. I know it is, first hand. I watched Ben lose his best friend, which was actually more like a brother, and that was worse than awful. But I just lost the love of my life, and the crushing pain is unbearable.
It seems that the last couple of years have been laced with heartache. A roller coaster of it. This is it. I’m done. I’ll crawl into my bed to lick my wounds, but after the healing, my heart will be a vault. This wound is too deep for me to even consider letting it happen again.
The odd thing is, I am too numb to cry. Maybe it’s because I’m still so dumbfounded by the fact that Brandon would actually consider marrying Kym. If that’s what’s best, I will. His words dance around in my head until I want to scream. I thought we were finally in a place to start a life together. Maybe this is me being selfish for not considering his grief, but I’ve been with him every step of the way. Why can’t he understand that I would love to help Kym take care of the baby? I was planning to be there every step of the way, even quitting my job if necessary. I hadn’t mentioned that to either of them yet because we hadn’t gotten that far in the planning. I had even looked at bigger houses, so she could have a better place to live.
As I lie here staring at the ceiling, my phone buzzes. My first inclination is to ignore it, but maybe it�
��s news about Braeden. When I answer, I’m disappointed to hear Cate’s voice.
“How’s it going?” I can hear the sound of a baby crying and another child talking in the background.
“Don’t ask.”
“No news then.” She sighs.
“I wouldn’t know.”
“And what does that mean?” she asks.
When I tell her, she says, “So let me get this straight. He says he’ll marry Kym if that’s what’s best. And those were his exact words?”
“Uh-huh.” I wish I could get them out of my head. “Well, I was the one who said quote, it sounded like you’d marry her, unquote.”
Cate comes back with, “And then?”
“Then he said quote, if that’s what’s best, I will, unquote.”
“Oh, boy. That’s a little weird.”
“Yeah. But he’s worried about her. She’s having a tough time. I mean, she’s so upset, but her pregnancy has been super difficult.”
“Hmm. Still, he can be there for her without marrying her.”
“My exact thoughts. I was planning on helping with the baby, too.” Then the dam breaks. I don’t know why my body chose this exact moment, but I am seized with sobs so fierce I can’t utter a word for several long moments.
“Oh, Jenna. I wish I were there to help you, dammit.”
I mumble something incoherent.
“Have you called Ben and Sam?”
“Noooooo.”
“You should. Especially your brother. You know he could help. Maybe he can talk to Brandon, help get him through all this.”
“Huh-uh. I don’t ever want to talk to Brandon again. Hurts too much. He brought up Kenneth.”
“He did?”
“Yeah,” I hiccup.
“Does he know how your mom blackmailed you?”
“Not the whole extent of it.” I blow my nose, and Cate yells, “Ow. That was loud.”
“Sorry.”
“Jenna, you need to tell him the whole story.”
I fiddle with the comforter. “No. I don’t want to see him again.”
The Cruel and Beautiful Series Boxset Page 101
