Just Like Breathing (Bring Me Back Book 1)

by Diana Gardin

  But I know better. She’s not ready. And until she is, any move I make could ruin her. And I won’t be responsible for that.

  Not with Arden.

  I hold out a hand. “When a lady requests to go apple picking, I pick her up in style. Hop in, Bunny.”

  She takes my hand and I pull her into the car, the familiarity of the make and model helping keep me steady as I pull her onto the seat beside me. We buckle in, and I angle my body toward her, so we can talk on the thirty-minute ride out into the country, where the apple orchard sits on unspoiled land.

  “This is going to be a new experience for me,” I warn as we walk onto the property of the orchard. Nitro’s harness is held securely in one hand while I rest the other on the delicate curve of Arden’s lower back. The natural spicy aroma of the orchard is somehow enhanced by the fact that Thanksgiving is less than a week away, like the impending holidays carry a scent all their own. The crisp, cool air forced me to pull on a vest over my thermal this morning, and as my hand strokes Arden’s back, I can feel that she’s wearing a flannel shirt.

  Stopping her mid-stride, I turn her to face me. My sunglasses most likely reflecting the light of the mid-morning sun, I face her and pretend that I’m taking her in, that I’m seeing the whole picture of the woman in front of me.

  A tremor of need runs through me as the desire to see her threatens to overwhelm me. “Tell me what you’re wearing,” I demand, my voice low and rough with the urgency I’m feeling.

  Arden doesn’t even hesitate. She grabs my hands, which were already gripping her waist, and forces my palms into a slow slide up the sides of her body. Soft, soft flannel meets my burning fingers, and I swear to God, if I could touch her underneath of her shirt right now, feel the heated caress of her skin against mine right now, I’d die a blissful death.

  “This,” she whispers, and I can feel the puffs of air as the words leave her lips. Something inside me calls out to her. It’s a need I can’t control and didn’t want…only now it seems I do want it. I want it more than I should, more than she could possibly handle.

  She continues. “…is a red-and-black checked flannel shirt dress. Feel this?” She guides my hands back to her waist, tangling my fingers in a long piece of fabric. “It’s tied right here, and it also buttons in front.”

  I swallow thickly, noticing how perfectly my big hands fit around her delicate midsection. “Yeah…I feel it, Bunny.”

  The hoarse rasp of my voice tangles with the throaty whisper of hers. “And these…” She moves my hands down, down, over the perfect curve of her hips and down the outside of her toned thighs.

  Jesus. I’m so fucked when it comes to this woman.

  “These are black leggings.”

  The soft material clings to her legs, and the urge to hook my fingers in the waist and peel them off of her is a real threat. Arden releases my hands and settles hers on top of my shoulders, sliding them up and down my arms.

  “Why’d you want to know that?” she whispers, her tone just as intense as the storm churning up my insides.

  “Because, Bunny…sometimes the desire to see you is more than I can handle. You, in particular. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’ll never again see the sun rising in the morning, the clouds drifting just outside the front windshield of my fighter jet, or the sight of a full Savannah moon hanging in that big, black nighttime sky. But the thing I haven’t accepted? Is never being able to see how beautiful I know you are. It’s fucking killing me.”

  A soft intake of air escapes her as she steps closer, pressing her body against mine in a way that pulls a groan from somewhere deep inside my chest.

  “Arden…” My hands crawl around to cup her ass without my permission, and she leans closer as a soft sound falls from her lips.

  I’ve completely forgotten the fact that we’re at the entrance to a public orchard, and that anyone walking by right now is probably enjoying the show we’re putting on, but I can’t find the energy to give a shit. This is Arden, and I’m starting to realize that everything we’ve done up until now has led to this moment.

  Her arms slide up, winding around my neck, and her sweet peach scent almost makes me sway on my feet. Then, my fingers digging into the plush skin of her hips, I give in and press my lips to hers.

  I swallow a groan as the sweet taste of her lips swallows everything else. My mind, my body, all of my senses, are directed straight toward the woman standing pressed against me. Her body, soft and so fucking perfect, molds to mine as my cock stirs to full attention between us. She gasps, and I take advantage of the sound, my tongue sweeping into the hot darkness of her mouth.

  Sweet. So damn sweet. Arden’s fingers thread through my hair as I deepen the kiss, needing more of her. More of this. This feeling I haven’t felt in so long, if I ever felt it at all. The intense need to taste every single part of her, like I might stop breathing if I don’t.

  When she finally pulls back, electricity tangles between us, dragging and sparking what I already knew was there. My hands slide up to cup her face, my thumbs stroking soft circles on her cheekbones.

  “Couldn’t hold back anymore, Bunny. I had to taste you.”

  Her breath mixes with mine as the world around us slowly comes back into my consciousness.

  Her voice is breathless, and sexy-as-hell laced with the need that mirrors mine. “Yeah? How did I taste?”

  Like a fucking dream. The kind of dream that eventually ends when you wake up.

  “You tasted perfect, Arden. Let’s go pick your apples.”

  I spin, thrusting my leg forward in a roundhouse kick, just as Axel attempts a right jab to my chest. For once, I’m faster. My kick lands solidly, and Axel grunts with the force of it. We’re sparring, but my brother and I don’t take it easy on each other. We never have.

  We both take a step apart, panting as we recover from our session.

  “Shit,” he murmurs, and I can tell from the location of his voice that he’s leaning over, hands on his knees. “You’re fucking spry today, bro. What the hell’s up with you?”

  Smirking, I turn toward the edge of the mat and retrieve my water bottle. “I was always faster than you, little brother. Just lost my bearings there for a little while. Now they’re on their way back.”

  I open the cap and chug, the cool slide of liquid down my throat restoring me from the workout Axel just put me through. And, as they’ve done so many times in the past two days, my thoughts slip back to Arden.

  She rocked my world with that kiss at the apple tree farm. For two damn days, I haven’t been able to think of anything other than the way her body felt pressed against mine, the soft heat of her lips as they nipped and sucked at me. She was incredible in that moment, letting go and giving in the same way I did.

  And afterwards? Afterwards, we strolled through that orchard, stopping when she saw what she declared was the “perfect” tree to pick apples from. Nitro and I stood there, waiting, while she grabbed a nearby stepladder. And my hands encircled her waist, holding her securely while she reached for the top branches on that tree. According to Arden logic, that’s where the sweetest fruit grows.

  “It’s Arden, you slick son-of-a-bitch. I’m not a complete moron. Haven’t seen that look on your face since…well, since. And it looks damn good on you.” Axel’s palm settles on my shoulder. “That’s my boy.”

  The teasing rib in his words prickles, causing me to shake my head as I turn toward him. “Nah, man. It’s not what you think. We haven’t…not yet. This girl’s been through more than you could even imagine.”

  Swallowing around the sudden emotion with a fist around my throat, I fill Axel in on exactly what Arden’s endured over the past year. He listens, and when I’m finished, there’s a beat of silence before he blows out a harsh breath.

  “Damn. That’s heavy shit right there, Flash. You sure she’s ready to…move on from all that?”

  I run an agitated hand over my hair and turn away from him to pace. “I don’t think she
’s ever going to be able to forget. Shit, I wouldn’t want her to. She is who she is because of what happened to her, and that’s the woman I’m starting to…fuck, man. I don’t know. It’s fucked up, right? I shouldn’t even touch her. But I can’t fucking help it.”

  I can hear the frown in Axel’s voice when he answers. “Why shouldn’t you touch her? You’re taking it slow, keeping her feelings at the forefront. What else is holding you back?”

  I drop into a squat, resting my elbows on my knees. I can feel Nitro’s fur brushing against my legs as he sidles up beside me and licks my cheek. Emotions roil inside me, tumbling around like my chest is a blender, and I can’t get ahold of any of them.

  “I’m still pretty messed up in the head, you know that, Axel. What if I’m not enough to pull her through all the things she’s dealing with? I’ve seen her completely broken, Ax. Shattered. Right there in pieces on her son’s bedroom floor. And I picked her up and brought her to bed and held her there all damn night. Never…and I mean fucking never have I been as destroyed as I felt that night. Seeing her like that? Feeling her chest heave while she sobbed? I thought I was already broken. But what I’ve been through is nothing compared to the way I felt, holding that woman in my arms as she cried for her lost husband and son.”

  Ax doesn’t say anything for several long minutes. The roar of my blood pounding in my ears as I recall that night is all I can hear, and then my brother is crouching down in front of me. His hands grasp the back of my neck as he speaks intently, right in my face.

  “Listen up, Flash. There’s nobody, and I mean no-fuckin’-body, who is more equipped to pull her out of the dark than you. Shit, I’ve seen a difference in you already, just from being around her. You haven’t been experiencing your rages anymore, have you?”

  Slowly, I shake my head. Other than the frustration I felt the morning I woke up at Arden’s I’ve controlled my temper.

  “Exactly. You’re strong enough to handle this, to help her handle it. Just be there. I’m not saying you should push for anything she’s not ready for. But you want to be there for her, don’t you?”

  He’s silent while he waits for my response.

  Slowly, I nod.

  “Then you fucking be there for her. And all the rest can be damned. It’ll fall into place.”

  15

  Arden

  November 22-23, 2017

  “We’ve been invited to Flash’s for Thanksgiving.” I try to keep my tone nonchalant as I prop my hip against the stainless steel counter in the kitchen at the studio. I glance down at my nails, noting the fact that I haven’t painted them since…before. I used to take a lot of joy in making my nails a different color every few days. Trenton used to tease me, saying that I liked to keep him guessing.

  A ghost of a smile flicks across my lips at the memory, and the expected pain that should lance through me next doesn’t come. Just the memory…and the smile.

  Before I have time to evaluate that, Brantley’s response jerks my head back up and in her direction.

  There’s flour all over the flaming red apron she’s wearing; the one that matches the utensils and bowls she uses in her kitchen. “I thought…I thought you didn’t want to do Thanksgiving this year.”

  Her spatula pauses in its efforts to scrape all the cupcake batter from the side of her mixing bowl, and her eyes meet my face, searching and studying.

  I shrug. “I didn’t want to. And I’m still not thrilled about it. The idea of spending this first holiday without Trenton and Danté…”

  There it is. At the mention of my little boy, pain so thick and heavy it threatens to suppress my very being settles over me. I swallow hard. “But what’s the alternative? Staying home and thinking about them? At least this way, I’ll be at Flash’s house. I’ll be with you and Flash and Axel, and I think Flash is inviting some of his buddies from the Air Force that he doesn’t often get to see anymore. I’ll be busy, surrounded with people.”

  Silence stretches between us as Brantley tries to figure me out.

  “You’ve been spending time with him.” It’s not a question, so I don’t bother to answer. “Like, a lot of time.”

  “I need this, B. And I need you by my side to get through it. Please say you’ll come.”

  She huffs a reluctant sigh. “Axel is going to be there?”

  I try to hide the smile wanting to work its way onto my lips. “Yep. And as I recall, you two hit it off the last time we were all together.”

  She shakes her head, glancing down at her mixing bowl as that spatula begins whipping around once more. “That was just one night of fun, Arden. I’m not interested in anything more than that.”

  Sadness hits me then, for a completely different reason. “You spend so much time worrying about me, making sure I’m okay. But this friendship is a two-way street, B. What happened to you…it was a long time ago. We left it behind in Florida when we moved to Savannah. You can let someone in. Someone other than me.”

  She shakes her head, the messy bun on top wobbling with the effort, as some loose strands fall down around her face. “Don’t go there, Ards. Let’s just…drop it, okay? I’m fine, you’re pretending to be fine, so we’re all fine and good. Right? Fine…I’ll come with you to Flash’s for Thanksgiving. I’ll bake some pies.”

  I grin. “Good, because you know if I bake something, it won’t be fit for people to eat. I’m going to get going, but I’ll pick you up around five tomorrow to head over to Flash’s house.”

  She nods, her eyes still focused on her work. Her head still full of the thoughts she tries hard not to remember.

  Maybe focusing on me and my pain temporarily helped her to forget about her own demons, the ones she’s warred with every day since she was eighteen years old. But it seems like those demons are fighting like hell to reach the surface again.

  When Flash opens his front door, I immediately drop down to greet Nitro.

  “How’s my sweet boy today?” Nitro rubs his face against mine, and I stand up, pulling a peanut butter snickerdoodle out of my bag. “Do you want this, sweet boy? Do you?”

  Flash leans against the doorjamb, arms folded, a smirk pulling up one side of his mouth in a grin that sends swarms of butterflies rioting around my stomach.

  “Spoiled rotten,” he remarks.

  Tossing the cookie into the air, I clap when Nitro leaps up to catch it and then gulps it down in one bite. He returns to Flash’s side, ready to serve his master just as before, and I give him one last scratch behind the ears before I turn to Flash.

  “He deserves to be spoiled. Remember, you told me that once. And I just happen to agree. It’s his Thanksgiving too.”

  One strong arm wraps around my waist as Flash pulls me toward him, dropping a kiss on top of my head. He lingers there a moment, inhaling the scent of my hair, which I happen to know he loves.

  When I glance up at Brantley, she’s watching us with rapt attention, her mouth hanging slightly open.

  “Wow,” she finally says. “I haven’t seen you two together since the last time we were here, and…damn. I guess things are progressing.”

  Her tone is a mixture of teasing and concern, and I know I’m going to have to have a talk with her later, explaining where Flash and I stand.

  But first, I’m going to need to figure out for myself exactly where Flash and I stand.

  Flash senses the war currently raging inside me and lets go of my waist long enough to grab hold of my hand. “Right this way, ladies. Welcome to our first Thanksgiving That Isn’t.”

  “Thanksgiving That Isn’t?” I wrinkle my nose in confusion. “What’s that?”

  He leans down as Brantley brushes past us, heading toward the great room. “It’s what I figured you needed today. I hope you’re okay with it.”

  I nod, letting him lead me down the hall and into the great room. Where my steps stutter to a stop. Just to my left, in Flash’s big, wide-open kitchen, are two caterers dressed in white jackets, bustling around the room. As my eyes fi
nd the giant slider heading out to the patio, I find that a large wooden table has been set up outside, one that wasn’t there the last time we visited.

  “What’s…what’s going on? You’re having Thanksgiving catered?”

  Even as my eyes scan the countertops, I see no turkey, no side items that remind me remotely of Thanksgiving at all.

  Flash’s voice in my ear causes a shiver to run down the length of my spine, and I lean back against him without even realizing I’m doing it. One of his arms curls protectively around my waist.

  “Yes, I’m having it catered. But it’s going to be different than any other Thanksgiving. I want today to be full of new memories for you, sweetheart. I don’t want to try to replace the old memories you have from holidays past. I just want to make brand new ones.”

  The doorbell chimes, and his lips graze my ear before he pulls away. “You and Brantley head on outside. There’s a fire going; we can all hang out there until dinner’s ready.”

  Brantley pipes up. “I brought pies.”

  Flash sends a smile in her direction. “Put them on the counter, and we’ll dig into those as soon as dinner’s over.”

  With one more squeeze to my hand, Flash and Nitro disappear back down the hall. As Brantley and I head out onto the patio, I hear the sound of the front door opening and the distant boom of laughter.

  “Ladies,” Axel greets us from where he’s sitting in front of the fire pit.

  He stands, moving over to kiss both our cheeks. “Nice to see you both again.”

  “You too, Axel,” I reply, smiling warmly at Flash’s brother. “So, this is the Thanksgiving That Isn’t?”