by Eden Summers
Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty — Brooke
Eden Summers
www.escapepublishing.com.au
Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty — Brooke
Eden Summers
Welcome to the heart—and heat—of Australia…
They say that no one has secrets in a small town—these women prove them wrong.
Eight brand-new stories from some of Australia’s hottest writers in Australia’s hottest genre. From the bar stools of the local pub to the wide open plains of the biggest stations in the world, these tales travel the dusty roads to the heart of Australia and the women who understand how to work hard—and play even harder.
In the latest in the wildly successful Secret Confessions series from Escape Publishing, the women of Down & Dusty invite you into their lives—and their bedrooms.
Brooke’s brothers practically define over-protective, and while Brooke appreciates their concern, their efforts have left her climbing the walls in sexual frustration. But no man in town is willing to risk their ire, and all Brooke wants is one guy who thinks she is worth the effort. One guy who will stand up for himself—and for her—against her overbearing, old-fashioned family, and whisk her away to sexual and emotional fulfilment. The only issue is that the one guy who looks like he might is the one guy who broke her heart—the one guy that she can’t risk falling for again.
Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty
Reading order
1. Casey—Rachael Johns
2. Lucky—Cate Ellink
3. Kelly—Fiona Lowe
4. Brooke—Eden Summers
5. Clarissa—Mel Teshco
6. Skye—Rhyll Biest
7. Maree—Elizabeth Dunk
8. Frankie—Jackie Ashenden
About the Author
Eden Summers is a true blue Aussie, living in regional New South Wales with her two energetic young boys and a quick witted husband.
In late 2010, Eden’s romance obsession could no longer be sated by reading alone, so she decided to give voice to the sexy men and sassy women in her mind.
Eden can’t resist alpha dominance, dark features and sarcasm in her fictional heroes and loves a strong heroine who knows when to bite her tongue but also serves retribution with a feminine smile on her face.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Kate Cuthbert for asking me to be involved in another Secret Confessions series. It truly is an honour. Huge props to Tracey O’Hara who spent her valuable time perfecting our stories. And to the other Down & Dusty ladies, it was a treasure working with you all.
To the people who bring happiness to my life.
I hope I can spark a little of the same in yours.
Contents
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Episode 4—Brooke
Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing…
Episode 4—Brooke
‘Howdy, neighbour.’
Brooke Keating froze, her hand on the staircase banister, her heart in her throat. She’d recognise that masculine drawl anywhere, no matter how many years it’d been since the last time her body ignited at the tone. Raising her chin, she turned in her dusty, sock-covered feet and met the stare of the man dwarfing her family homestead living room.
Hot damn. The visual orgasm knocked the air from her lungs, and instinctively she took a step back. Like a fine wine, Heath Curtis had improved with age. In her younger years, she wouldn’t have thought it possible. But those green eyes seemed increasingly potent. His frame larger and more dominant. His chiselled jaw extra appealing with the light brown stubble shadowing his skin.
‘Heath.’ She measured her tone, severing the excitement in her veins from the emotion in her voice. ‘I didn’t know you were coming home.’
He winced, punching her through the chest with the realisation he must’ve returned to Milpinyani Springs a while ago.
‘Yeah, little one. Last month.’ He ran a hand through the loose inches of his blond hair. ‘Your brothers and I are finally getting around to sharing a drink together.’
Last month. Ouch.
‘That’s nice,’ she said through gritted teeth. Yes, he’d been best friends with her brothers, Rowan and Connor, but he’d been her sweetheart. Her lover. Her everything. Obviously, their teenage fling didn’t count for much. ‘Well … it was nice to see you,’ she lied. Her mind was awash with fear and optimism at the mere sight of him. Nice didn’t come close. ‘I guess I’ll see you around.’
She turned on her toes, preparing to flee.
‘You’re not going to share a drink with me?’
Friday nights were reserved for alcoholic beverages and relaxed shenanigans around the bonfire in the backyard. Not tonight through. The solace of an intoxicated buzz didn’t seem a great companion if it meant fake-grinning through awkward conversation with a man she’d once adored.
‘I’m dirty. Dusty,’ she clarified, hating the sexual images that stirred to life. ‘I’m going to take a shower. I might see you later.’ Or never again, if she was fortunate.
It had taken years to get over him. To stop seeing his gorgeous grin smiling back at her from her dreams. To cease feeling his touch with the kiss of the warm night breeze. In an instant, those emotions came flooding back, assailing her with long-forgotten sensations she hadn’t been able to replicate in his absence.
It wasn’t fair. Especially when he’d gone to university without a care in the world that she was left behind, pining for him. ‘A long-distance relationship will never work,’ he’d told her the day he announced his departure to study Agricultural Sciences in the city.
‘It could. I can come see you once a month. And you’ll travel home during the holidays,’ she protested.
Heath had fixed her with a half-hearted grin, pulling her lanky body into his arms for a placating hug and a demeaning kiss on her forehead.
‘The kilometres aren’t the problem, little one. We’ve hidden this thing between us from our families for a long time. They’d put two and two together as soon as you started forking out money to come visit me. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to see you, but the threat of your dad is fucking daunting.’ He’d stepped away, placing a chasm of distance between them. ‘There’s a lot of places to hide a dismembered body out here.’
Coward.
He hadn’t spoken to her again. There’d been no letters. No phone calls. Not even a smoke signal. He moved on, first at university, then during the years he spent on his family property while she was studying Agribusiness in the city. On her return, she’d learned he’d gone overseas to participate in a farmer exchange program with a yet-to-be-determined return date.
She trudged up the staircase, not looking back as she cursed the years it had taken to let go of the dream he’d ever return for her. Too many naive years. Too many unfulfilled hopes.
Shoving her bedroom door open, she strode toward the adjoining bathroom. Shower. She needed a calm, soothing shower to wash away the rekindled emotions and bring reality back to the forefront. Only, she couldn’t relax. Her clothes were off in an instant, and she was hustling under the spray before the temperature was anywhere near warm.
She scrubbed her hair clean in seconds and wrenched the taps off mere moments after she’d gotten in. She didn’t want to admit she was in a hurry to see Heath again. Nope. She couldn’t. Not when she’d finally begun to congratulate herself for getting over him.
All she wanted to do was clarify that the downstairs reunion wasn’t a mirage, a hallucination conjured from her starved libido.
With the towel wrapped loosely around her, she made for the window and peeked through
the curtains to the backyard below. Her brothers were outside, the dwindling light of sunset at their backs, while the bonfire lit up the laugh lines on their faces.
Heath approached them, a beer bottle clutched in his hand. She couldn’t read his lips but whatever he said caused laughter from her brothers that only endeavoured to stab another knife through her chest. Their private, inside jokes had been the bane of her existence growing up. She’d always been on the outside. Even after she’d become involved with Heath. Back then was different though. She’d been a little girl. A pushover. Not the determined woman of today.
Releasing the curtain, she stepped away from the window and raised her chin to the world. There was nothing she could do to change his return. He was here now. Back in Milpinyani Springs. Her neighbour.
The only thing she could do was pray the kilometres that separated their family homesteads were enough to stop her blood igniting over a history that shouldn’t be revisited. If she failed, her over-protective brothers would step up to the plate.
For once, she approved of their protective ways. All she’d have to do is mention the days she’d spent making love to their best friend, days that would earn Heath more than a few broken bones if her brothers had their way. And right now, the prospect of torturing the man who walked away from her didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
***
Brooke hustled down the stairs, her hair still damp against her shoulders.
‘Just the woman I was looking for.’
A gasp caught in her throat. ‘Jesus, Heath.’
He stood at the bottom of the staircase, his back against the wall, his ankles crossed, beer in hand. She didn’t want to pass him. Not with the predatory gleam in his eye. She knew that look, but it had grown in power. Now it came not from a teenager, but a man.
‘What do you want?’ The question came out more caustic than necessary as she slowed her approach.
‘I was coming to see how long you were going to take. I haven’t seen you in years and the first glimpse wasn’t enough.’
She scoffed, emboldened by his bullshit. One by one, she descended the stairs, coming face to face with the man of her dreams.
‘You’ve changed, Brooke.’ He caressed her with his visual appraisal, lowering his focus from her eyes, over her lips that tingled from the attention, to her neck, her chest, all the way down to her naked toes and back up again. ‘You’re more beautiful than I would’ve imagined.’
She smiled, holding in the need to laugh. ‘And you’re more of a smarmy player than I anticipated.’ She scooted past him, and strode to the kitchen.
‘Why? Because I paid you a compliment?’ He followed her. The pounding of his boots against the polished floorboards reminded her just how much of a man he’d become. ‘Admitting the truth doesn’t make me smarmy, or a player.’
She shrugged, unwilling to further the conversation. He was already getting under her skin, creeping his way back into her heart. She reached for the fridge door and yanked it open harder than necessary. The need to wrap her mouth around an apple cider bottle was punishing, not only for the alcoholic buzz, but for the ability to hide her aching lips.
Heath came up behind her, his presence a dominant force over her shoulder. He stepped in, his boots brushing her heels, the heat of his chest seeping into her back.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ She grabbed a bottle from the top shelf and swung around, almost falling into the fridge as she tried to place space between them.
‘Just sayin’ hello.’
His arrogant grin undid her, unfurling her restraint, unhinging her desire, sparking to life an attraction that should’ve been dead and buried. She itched to swipe the cockiness from his expression … with her lips.
Raising a brow, she crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Rowan and Connor will kill you if they see you like this.’
‘Really?’ he drawled. He didn’t back off. Didn’t understand how serious she was.
‘Really.’ She cleared her throat, ignoring the hardening of her nipples and the deep throb of arousal in her pussy. There was no way she was succumbing to his charms. No way. Well, physically anyway. Mentally, she was already stripping him of his coal-coloured t-shirt and dark jeans, wrapping that black leather belt around his wrists and bending him to her will.
‘A lot changed in the years after you left. When Dad died, Rowan and Connor took over his role as the steel-fisted protector of my sexuality. There’s still a lot of places ’round here to hide a dismembered body.’ She threw his parting words back in his face with a sugary-sweet smile. ‘No man can touch me.’
‘I’m sorry about your father. He was a great man.’ His features turned gentle, the comfort in those green eyes reaching into places she never wanted him to touch. ‘And I heard all about Rowan and Connor keeping male suitors at bay. I’ve been told there’s been more than a few.’
‘Not too many for them to handle.’ The playfulness left her tone, allowing resentment to slide in. Her brothers had warned away any male in a fifty kilometre radius. Not just verbal threats either. There were black eyes and broken teeth for any man who was caught touching her. God forbid she actually have a relationship. ‘They’re quite proficient in their threatening ways.’
He chuckled, the delicious laugh lines around his eyes deepening, making him all the more impossible to resist.
‘I’m not joking, Heath. You need to back away before they see us like this.’ She pushed at his chest, giving herself room to close the fridge door and slide out of reach.
He straightened his shoulders, squared his jaw. The act seemed like preparation for battle but the only part of her ready for action was her ovaries. ‘I’m home for good, Brooke. I’m not leaving again.’
She let out a barely audible huff. ‘I guess “good” is a relative term.’
His brow furrowed. ‘You really are pissed at me, aren’t you, little one?’
Her nostrils flared. She’d hated the endearment as a child. She hated it even more now. The term was first used by one of the native Australian stockmen who previously worked with her father. Unfortunately, it caught on, with the farmhands and the folks in town too. Even her brothers had tauntingly called her little one if they were trying to rile her. But that had died a slow death years ago. Everyone knew she was no longer a child. Apparently, everyone except Heath.
‘Don’t patronise me. I’m far from the little girl you once knew.’
‘Believe me, I noticed.’ His jaw tightened and his Adam’s apple bobbed with a deep swallow.
Silence grew between them. Heavy. Thick. Yet not cloying enough to disable the traitorous arousal making her body tingle to life. She was hot for him. Scorching.
‘Heath?’ Connor’s shout drifted from outside. ‘Grab us another beer on your way out.’
Heath casually stepped back, resting his arse against the opposite counter as he continued to scrutinise her with his wicked gaze. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’
She wanted to growl at him to go now. To leave her alone. To stop playing with her. Torturing her. But the confidence in his features told her he wouldn’t walk away easily. She needed to stand her ground. Put him in his place. Show him she was no longer at his mercy, no matter how much her aching breasts begged to be.
‘Did you ever tell my brothers about us?’ she taunted with the hint of a smile. ‘Seeing how protective they are, I always wondered what they’d think of our teenage rendezvous.’
The glass he’d begun to raise to his lips stopped abruptly, his skin lightening to a paler shade of tan. It was about time he had a taste of retaliation for walking out on her. ‘Or the fact you took my virginity in the tray of your rusted-up ute.’
He cleared his throat and narrowed his gaze. ‘Brooke.’ Her name was a warning, a dark rumble of a growl she’d never heard from him before. And, bloody hell, it made her want to jump him all over again, smash her lips over his, feel the tangle of tongues and the clash of teeth.
‘What?’ She raised a
brow and twisted the top on her cider bottle, throwing the lid into the sink a few feet away. ‘I was just wondering, that’s all.’
She lifted the alcohol to her mouth, took a sip, and then delicately licked the sweet taste from her lower lip. Heath’s eyes narrowed, tracking her every moment, showing her his attraction was burning just as bright.
Footsteps echoed from the back porch, then the screen door slid open. ‘What’s going on in here?’
Brooke kept her attention on Heath as Connor entered her periphery. Their gaze didn’t break. He kept his focus strong, determined, his narrowed stare whispering sweet nothings over her consciousness.
‘Just catching up with Brooke,’ he drawled, lazy as shit, without a care in the world.
‘Reminiscing, too,’ she purred. ‘I quite enjoy looking back at all the naughty things we used to get up to.’
Heath’s jaw twitched, an almost imperceptible tic that made her belly flutter.
‘Really?’ Connor’s tone was cautionary. An unmistakable threat.
‘We shared some great times together.’ A smile hovered on Heath lips underneath the thinly veiled concern in his eyes.
That smile sent a wave of memories flooding back. Their first kiss—in the middle of the night, separated by the barbed-wire fence where their properties joined. The stolen sunsets in the back of a dusty ute. Whispered words. Seductive glances. Secret memories only the two of them shared.
‘Remember the day at Forsyth Creek?’ he asked.
A moment of shock hit her before a burst of nervous laughter bubbled up her throat. What the hell was he doing? Did he have a death wish? She supposed she shouldn’t care. Not anymore. But there was a difference between alluding to the truth, and coming right out and saying it. He was crazy to think her homicidal brother wouldn’t kill him for a mere insinuation of what happened that day.
‘I lost control of the four-wheeler at the shallow crossing.’ She swallowed over the dryness overtaking her mouth. ‘When I called Rowan for help, he’d said you were closer. Ever the chivalrous brother, he hadn’t had time to rescue me. But you were there in minutes, hauling me out of the creek because I was too shocked to move.’
