Heartbroken (Gritt Family Book 1)

by Gabrielle G.

  The three of us are hanging out in the back of my truck. Alane has her head on my chest, lying down next to me while I caress her hair, and Luke is at our feet lying down as well, and throwing a football in the air. We’re just talking about the future, our hopes, and the latest gossip. Time stands still, and I would like to stay like this forever.

  “What is Chris going to do after graduation?” Alane asks. I see Luke’s ears perk up. I’m not dumb. I see the way he looks at my best friend. Chris was one of the only ones standing up for Luke. When Alane and I hang out, they do as well. I know Chris got his hands on some gay porn for Luke, and I suspect they even watched some together. I’m discreet, and I don’t interfere. I hate when my family gets in my business, so I won’t get in my brother’s.

  “I’m not sure,” I respond, “It depends on what his father wants him to do,” I scoff, dragging my fingers along her arm.

  “He wants to become a sport’s agent, but his dad wants him to be a doctor,” Luke answers, throwing the ball in the air.

  “What does Patricia want to do?” I ask, not interested but curious to know what someone as shallow as Patricia has planned for her future.

  “Except marrying Luke?” Alane jokes. “I guess teach? But I think her dad wants her to be a nurse.”

  “Dads always end up getting what they want.” I’m defeated in the choice of career looming in my future. I still haven’t told them what I want to do. I told Alane, Chris, and Luke, but every time I try to broach the subject with my dad, he comes back to the farm and hockey. I’m so afraid to disappoint him; so I shut up and pretend we have the same dreams.

  “You need to talk to Dad. If I could tell them I like boys, you can say you want to go to culinary school. First, they’ll say they need to plan for the money, but then they’ll be happy for you that you’ve found your calling. Even more, once you are a famous chef if you promise to come back here one day and use the farm products in your restaurant.”

  I sigh at the amount of faith my brother has in me.

  If only I could take everything as easily as he does. He likes boys, no problem; let’s tell Mom and Dad. He wants to go to art school, let’s show them how he can draw and jump on the artistic bandwagon.

  Everything for me seems harder to talk about, and knowing I’ll be crushing my dad’s hopes is the worst feeling.

  “Where is the best school?” Alane asks, her eyes closed as if she’s afraid to hear the answer.

  “Seattle, but that’s not where I would like to go. I want to stay close by.”

  “I could do some research and see what hockey prep schools there are in Washington State,” she says without a doubt.

  “No, Al. I’ll never get in anyway, even if I speak to my parents about it. Your scholarship is already secure for next year; you’re not changing plans for me. I’ll talk to them, and I need to apply soon. The deadline is coming up.”

  “Okay,” she whispers, unsure. “And you, Luke, where are you going to go?”

  “I’ll stay around next year, and then I’ll see. I’ll miss you both, that’s for sure.”

  “I’m not gone yet,” I tell my brother. Luke sits up abruptly and looks at me with an intensity I’ve never seen in his eyes before.

  “Remember, I’m doing it for you, Aar.” He smirks. “Dad! Aaron has something to tell you!”

  “What is it, Son?” My father comes closer and pops his head in the bed of the truck. He’s always so nonchalant if it’s not about the farm or hockey.

  “I… well...” I stammer my words, not sure I can say what Luke wants me to.

  “Come on, Aaron,” he insists, “he’s not going to kill you.” Alane has sat up as well and is looking at me with encouragement.

  “Well, son. At least we know you’re not gay.” My father chuckles. “Should I call your mom?” I nod, still fighting with my words. I was never good at saying what I want.

  “Bella!” he screams. “Aaron is finally ready to speak.”

  “I’m not sure I am,” I mumble, trying to find the nerve to do so. Alane has her hand on my thigh, supporting me. Luke is amused, but I know it’s his way of helping; he always pushes me to pursue what I want. He did it with Alane, with my job —he’s the one who begged Chris and Patricia’s father to give me a chance— and now with my future.

  “Finally,” my mother says, standing close to my dad, “I was wondering when the boy would tell us.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask them confused.

  “That’s not how it works, Aaron Jax! You’re the one who has to tell us, not us putting words into your mouth.” Luke chuckles, and if I didn’t know he was doing this for me, I would kill him.

  “Well, I’m not ready, but…”

  “He is!” Luke interrupts, “Right, Captain?” Alane nods.

  “Go on, Aar, it’s going to be fine.”

  “I want to be a chef!” I say quickly. I don’t know how Luke had the courage to come out to my parents. I feel a knot in the pit of my stomach, a fear of disappointing, a hope that they’ll still love me and a dread waiting for an answer.

  “Darn, Son! You couldn’t say baker? I just lost twenty bucks to your mother!” my father complains while getting his wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a twenty. My mother is beaming, with her hand out, pride in her eyes.

  “You knew, and you’re not mad? I mean... the farm, the hockey?” My mother rolls her eyes at me and slips the twenty in her pocket.

  “Those were only fallbacks until you fessed up and told us what you want to do, Son. When I walked away from the life my parents laid out for me, I chose not to impose our wants on our kids.” I’m shell-shocked by the ease of this conversation.

  “I really wish you were my parents.” Alane yearns with amazement in her eyes.

  “Oh, sweetie. Whatever happens with this one, you’ll always be a part of this family. Now, can I go back to work? We’ll discuss more over dinner. Alane, are you staying?”

  “I can’t tonight. My parents are expecting me for supper with the Harbors,” she apologizes for having to choose. I still haven’t been invited to share a meal with the Smiths, but I prefer to avoid the pastor anyway.

  “Let me drive you home,” I slide off the bed of my truck and shove Luke on the shoulder.

  “You’re welcome,” he chimes

  “You knew, didn’t you?”

  “I heard them talking about it last week. I could have told you, but I didn’t want to take the fun out of the whole experience for me.” He laughs.

  “Revenge is a dish best served cold, Luke. But thank you.” I hug him.

  “Drive the girl home. I’ll call her parents in thirty minutes saying you just asked me to call to tell them you are on your way.” He winks at Alane, who doesn’t blush a bit. She initiates what we do more than me, and I end up being the one blushing from head to toe.

  “That’s sexy,” she whispers, and I end up nodding at Luke, telling him silently to call her parents for me in a little while.

  As I come back home, I know I’m late for dinner, and my hair is sticking up. Alane held on to it so tight when I went down on her, I look like someone shoved a stick of dynamite up my ass. Everybody is sitting around the table, and there is no way I can avoid them and run to shower, so I sit down, hoping nobody comments on the state of my hair, but that’s not how my family works.

  “I hope you're being careful,” my mom chimes, passing me the potatoes.

  “We’re not doing it,” I answer, trying not to speak about sex in front of my younger siblings.

  “Well, you’re doing something,” my dad adds, shoveling some stew in his mouth.

  “Yes, but not that. Her dad gave me enough warnings.”

  “You’re young and about to leave for Seattle. You shouldn’t promise Al anything.”

  “Seattle?”

  “Yes, Mr. Harbor said that’s where the best school is. I think you should go.”

  “Of course, he did. That’s Pastor Smith’s plan. Sendin
g me away.”

  “I don’t want Aaron to go away,” my little sister complains, and it feels good in a way that she’s not giving me the cold shoulder. My mother shushes her, explaining this is a conversation between grown-ups.

  “Aaron,” my dad shakes his head dismissively, “if his plan is giving you a good education, I don’t see a problem.”

  “What happened to Alane being part of the family?”

  “What happened to you wanting to become a chef?” My mother pushes food into Barnabas’ mouth indicating he should finish his plate. “So what’s your plan? Going to a local school for one year and then follow her around, depending on where she’s going?“

  “Pretty much. And marrying her.” My parents’ eyebrows jump to their hairline. Salomé groans.

  “Aaron, you’re still young, Alane is your first real girlfriend. I’m all about love, but maybe you should go to Seattle, work a little and then marry her.” My mother sounds more upset than concerned. I thought she would be supportive of Alane and I getting married. Telling me I’m too young when she married my dad, certainly while high on mushrooms and practicing free love for years, is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. If ‘experienced’ means sleeping around, that’s not for me. Alane is it. I’ll follow her where I need to. She can stay focused on her game, and I’ll be happy to provide for her. As much as going against her dad scares me, I’ve thought a lot about it, and I can’t let her go or walk away, I need to fight for us.

  “Do her parents know about your plans?” My mother winces.

  “Of course not. Pastor Smith asked him to break up with her as soon as school is done and leave so she can follow her dream,” Luke pipes into the conversation, knowing I would never share this information with my parents. I send him a pointed look, but he shrugs it off.

  “Aaron, listen to me. If you and Alane are meant to be, you can leave for Seattle and come back later. Don’t jeopardize your future and hers; it’s not worth it. I’ll talk with Father Smith.”

  “If going to culinary school means leaving for Seattle, I’m fine just working at the farm,” I say, playing with my mashed potatoes.

  “But if staying means you threaten your whole life and you never do what you love, it’s going to be a very long fucking boring life,” my father says.

  “But what’s a life without Alane, Dad? It seems I can’t win.”

  “You can, by creating a future she can be a part of one day.”

  “Like in ten years? I want her to be my future tomorrow, not once I’m fucking thirty years old!”

  “We’re not saying you should wait for her career to be over; we’re just asking you to think about your life as well. Don’t decide anything around her plans, she might not even make it as a hockey player.”

  I sigh, pushing my plate, and stand up, needing to be alone.

  “And you wonder why I never share anything,” I say, climbing up the stairs.

  “Aaron!” I hear my father call while I shut my door and lie on my bed.

  “Don’t give up, Aar,” I hear Luke telling me from the corridor. “If she’s the one, and you and I both know she is, don’t give up.”

  “I’ll try, Luke,” I say, turning my back to him and closing my eyes. All I can do is try.

  16

  Now - Aaron

  Alane is ignoring me.

  I’ve begged Barnabas to give me her phone number, sent numerous texts and emails asking for a coffee date, and she’s ignoring me.

  All I want is to understand how the girl I knew became prone to anxiety attacks.

  Who is Alane Smith now?

  I’m not asking her to marry me. I mean, I’m not even asking her to give me a shot, not yet, maybe never. I need to sit down with her first to discuss and clear the air, to see where we are at. I’m not even sure I want a second chance, or maybe I do, or just a chance to fuck her.

  Shit, I’m so confused, I just cut my finger.

  Fuck.

  My sous-chef looks at me with concern, as he has for the last few months since Jessica left and Alane came back.

  “Take over,” I mumble, making my way to the first aid kit to bandage my index finger. My phone chimes, and I look, hoping it’s her, but knowing it’s not. It’s Luke.

  Luke: I heard you cut yourself. Who were you thinking about?

  I look around to see which traitor would have announced this to my brother, but there is nobody who knows him in my kitchen. It only means one thing. He’s here and asked to talk to the chef, saying he was my brother. Then the waiter inquired about me and reported to Luke. I have no private freaking life, even in my own kitchen for something as stupid as a cut.

  Making my way to the dining room, I see the icy blue eyes of his boyfriend staring back at me. Dex stands up and walks toward me, greeting me before I can slap the back of my brother’s head.

  “He’s going to be an idiot, and I’m going to be an asshole. Fair warning, we’re not here to blow smoke up your ass,” Dex smiles and shakes my hand.

  “Fair warning, I’m not in the mood for you two,” I answer, hugging my brother.

  Dex and Luke got back together a few weeks ago when I was in Los Angeles. They’re madly in love, but my brother is too laid-back, and Dex is too much of a prick to show his love. I don’t know how their relationship works, but it does, and we all adopted Dex quickly. Not that we had the choice anyway. I like the guy more than my two brothers. The only thing I dislike is how he needs to fix shit, and hearing his little speech when he greeted me, he’s here in fix-it mode. I start to sit in the only empty chair around the table when Luke stops me.

  “That’s the Captain’s seat. She’s meeting us for supper.”

  “She accepted to come here?” I snarl, which doesn’t fall on deaf ears.

  “Is that why you cut yourself? Is she ignoring you?”

  “Do you have to know every fucking thing, Luke?” Dex puts his hand on my brother’s arm to tell him to let it go. Rolling my eyes, I make my way back to the kitchen. Why did they have to come here? What am I supposed to do now?

  She has been pretty clear she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. That said, we’re both adults. She could send a text or email just telling me so, but it seems even that is too difficult. Yet, coming on my home turf to dine with my brother isn’t though. The icing on the cake would be if she brings Barnabas as a fucking date like at the school dance.

  I didn’t bring a date. I ran into Patricia in the corridor.

  She constricted me like a boa before killing his prey. I couldn’t breathe or get rid of her. It felt like she was crushing the life out of me.

  The only moment I could breathe was when I danced with Alane. I could feel our old chemistry still lingering, and I was hoping she would give me a couple minutes of her time.

  She reconnected with Luke, Barn, Chris, and whoever else but me. Next thing I know, she’ll have tea with my mother while still ignoring me. I know I hurt her, but twenty-seven years should be enough to get over whatever grudge she has against me.

  I spend the rest of night slamming things and snapping at the staff, getting more pissed off by Alane’s behavior.

  Every time the door to the kitchen opens, I can hear Luke having a good time, and I feel like punching him in the throat to get him to stop laughing.

  When it finally calms down in the kitchen, I retreat to my office with a brandy and wait there for the night to end, knowing Luke and Dex won’t leave without saying goodbye.

  So when my second-in-command, Jacob, enters my office to tell me the staff are all gone, and there is only one person left in the dining room, and is waiting for me, I’m surprised to find Alane sitting alone, sipping a glass of amaretto.

  “You requested to talk to the chef?” I make my way in her direction but stop a few steps away from the table, scrutinizing her.

  Even if I don’t want to show her any of my emotions, I’m buzzing.

  She’s sitting in my dining room and I’m barely holding on. She s
ips her drink, her eyes slowly roaming over my body. I feel naked under her gaze. When her eyes stop on mine, I see a glimmer I know too well.

  Alane Smith wants me.

  My dick stirs just thinking about it, and she must recognize the signs of me desiring her because she chuckles while biting her lower lip.

  “Talking is not really why I asked you here.” She finishes her drink in one gulp and sits the glass on the table before standing up and coming my way.

  Her walk is a little unbalanced, and I’m pretty sure she drank more than the usual tonight.

  “How much did you drink?” I keep my hands in my pocket while she stands before me, her eyes never leaving mine.

  “Enough that if you want it rough, I shouldn’t get an anxiety attack. Not enough that I don’t know what I’m doing.” Fuck that’s sexy.

  “So, you don’t want to talk?” She smirks at me.

  “What do you want to say, Aar? I got married then I divorced. You got married, then you divorced. I never made it to professional hockey. You became a chef. I have a son; you have a son and a daughter. There, all caught up.”

  “That’s it? There is nothing more to know about you, Al?” She narrows her eyes at me as if she can’t grasp why I’m not jumping at the opportunity to fuck her. I don’t understand it either.

  My conscience is telling me something is not adding up.

  I can’t reconcile the woman I saw at the church with the woman standing before me. Something doesn’t make sense, and I don’t know why.

  She leans back on the table, her legs opened just slightly, and her back arched. She’s pure sexiness, and I feel my restraint failing every damn minute.

  “You want to know more?” She opens her silky shirt button by button. “I have thirty years of regrets to never have fucked you and seven of those were pent-up frustration because of anxiety. I’m offering this to you because even if you betrayed me and destroyed me, when I’m close to you I feel kind of safe for a reason I can’t comprehend. My brain rejects you every chance it gets, but my body craves you. I haven’t wanted sex so much in a decade, Aaron. Tonight might end up with me crying and begging you to stop, or it might end up a great night. I can’t predict what will happen, but since I don’t care much about giving you a second chance, I’m proposing a better deal. One night, no inhibitions, no holding back. We do what either of us has ever wanted, and then we walk away.”