by Aria Ford
“Riley.”
We kissed. His lips tasted like oranges—he must have eaten some earlier. I licked them, liking the taste, and he chuckled, then pulled me closer, his tongue exploring my mouth.
My body was heating up fast, my belly shivery with excitement. I wanted him so much. It was ridiculous, the rational part of my mind told me. I was in the kitchen with my eight-year-old in the hallway. I was behaving ridiculously.
The more sternly I tried to talk myself out of it, the more rebellion appealed to me.
When he leaned back our eyes were both sparkling.
“Wait,” I said. “We’re making supper.”
His eyes twinkled. “I have an appetite, but I don’t think supper will fix it.”
I flushed. “Riley Robson,” I said crossly, though I was grinning. “You are shocking.”
“No, I’m not.”
I laughed and went over to add my vegetables to the pot. We should be able to eat in half an hour, I informed him as I spiced the mixture. It was weird, but my mind still remembered how to cook this.
“Good,” he said, eyes warm. “I can’t wait much longer.”
His words clearly didn’t refer to supper alone and my palms grew damp. I shuddered deliciously and pretended I hadn’t understood him. Busied myself with the cooking.
After the pie was in I found myself feeling a bit anxious. This was where it had “gone wrong” last time. My mood shifted to being apprehensive and I started keeping myself busy, washing and putting things away.
“Do you think we should go with it?” Riley asked, surprising me.
“Go with it?”
“I mean, if the franchiser gets back to us. Do you think we should go for a franchise? Or make our own place?”
I frowned. “I think we should see,” I suggested. “See what he thinks—if there isn’t a good chance of success, he’s unlikely to sell you a place in the beginning. Right?”
“I guess.” Riley nodded.
“Well, if he says yes, I’d say yes too,” I continued, bending to check inside the oven. “I mean, having a name for the business—one that’s got a reputation already—that’s worth it.”
“Even if it costs more?”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“Thanks,” he said, slumping with relief. “That’s what I thought too.”
“Well, we’re right.”
It was only as the oven rang, breaking our focus, that I realized that Riley had done something else unique—valued my opinion.
If I was meant to start trusting people again, I think Riley was sent to make me do it. I bent down and lifted the pie carefully. It was golden and fragrant. I felt proud.
“Dinner!” Parker exclaimed, running into the kitchen. I laughed.
“I think you’re right, sweetheart. It’s finished!”
“Yay!”
The two of them were the kind of customers a restaurant proprietor dreamed of, I thought as they finished up their supper with compliments and sounds of evident enjoyment. The pattern hadn’t been licked off, but otherwise the plates were clean, I said, laughing.
“Well, give me time,” Riley observed. “The glaze makes the pattern harder to get at.”
We all laughed. I rinsed the plates and put them in the dishwasher. Parker excused herself and we were alone in the kitchen.
I sat down opposite Riley. He smiled at me.
“Brooklyn,” he said softly. “I feel so good. I really feel like…this could work.”
I nodded. “I also do.”
We sat quietly for a while, each lost in thought. The kitchen smelled of baking and I allowed myself to imagine a future in which I owned a restaurant, not far from the garage, and Riley lived with me.
“Riley…” I said.
“Yes?”
I looked away. “Nothing.”
How was I supposed to say what was in my heart? How do you go about asking someone with whom you have already signed a legal agreement to marry you?
“Hey,” he said gently. He reached across the table and his hand took mine. My heart skipped.
“Riley,” I whispered, a cautionary hiss. He chuckled.
“What?”
The hand on my wrist tightened and I felt myself drawn forward. I yielded to the touch of his mouth on mine, his lips gently grazing my own. I allowed the sensations to course through my and really felt the kiss, let it tingle inside of me.
That night when we went upstairs to bed, it was different. He leaned against the door, his eyes luminous as he watched me.
“Brooklyn,” he whispered gently.
“Mm?” My heart was thudding in my chest, making it difficult to hear. He was naked to the waist, and I couldn’t get enough of that sight.
“I want to spoil you,” he whispered. “Really spoil you.”
I shivered as he drew me into his arms. He kissed me, and as he did so, his hands moved down my back, stroking the cotton of my shirt and then reaching round for the buttons. He unfastened them one by one, and his mouth moved to my throat.
It was hard to stand still while he touched me, hard not to shake too hard as his lips moved down to my breasts. I felt his tongue probe the gap between them and then, very gently, his fingers moved round behind me and unfastened my bra.
I shivered as his lips clamped my nipple. He worked it gently, letting it stiffen as he sucked it. It was such a delicious feeling that I had to struggle not to cry out. Then, before I had any warning, he was taking off my jeans.
“Lie down,” he whispered to me. I nodded.
I went and lay down on the bed and he worked them down over my body. When he had me naked, he knelt on the bed beside me.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes obediently. Then they flew open as he licked me down there. His tongue was smooth and warm, and it glided over my clit in a way that made me cry loudly.
He chuckled, and I instantly stopped making a noise. The sensation increased as he suckled at me, and I writhed and did my best not to cry aloud. My whole body shook, and then the sensation was too much.
The feeling raced through me, and I came.
I had never done that before. I heard him smile, and he licked me again. He lay down beside me.
He held me and then knelt up. Slid down between my legs. I was ready for him, and he slid inside me without my needing to guide him there.
We fit together perfectly. He rocked back and pushed in, rocked and pushed. I pushed against him and the sensation of him brushing the special spots inside me made me moan softly.
As we moved together, I felt myself coming closer and closer and I could hear him getting there too. His breath caught in his throat and he shivered, his body contorting as he pumped in me.
He collapsed onto my chest and I held him in my arms and he fell asleep.
We lay like that, warm despite the chill and I shivered and held him close.
My senses drowsed and I slept too. When I woke up, he had shifted so I lay on his chest. I snuggled closer. I looked up. His eyes were open.
He kissed my hair.
“Dear?” he whispered.
I smiled. “Yes, dear?”
“I don’t know what I should do,” he whispered.
“What you should do about what?” I whispered back.
“You see,” he said, and I could hear his smile in the darkness. “I have a difficulty.”
“Mm?” I asked sleepily. My heart was pounding and I smiled, too, knowing what he was going to say, just as he said it.
“You see, I know we have an agreement.”
“We do,” I said.
“And I know it says we’re only supposed to be…like this for six months.”
“Yes, quite.”
“Well,” he said, whispering into my hair. “I can’t hold to that anymore. I want more of you.”
I felt my insides melt. It was exactly the problem I’d been facing, that had been worrying me all day and, if I thought about it, every day. Since we did
this.
“Well,” I said, “I hate to tell you this, but I don’t have an answer to that.”
“You don’t?”
“Yes. Because I have the same problem. And I haven’t figured out how to solve it either.”
He laughed, smiling down at me. “Well, I think we might have.”
“Well, we both have the same problem,” I began hesitantly.
“So it isn’t a problem anymore, is it?”
I laughed as he kissed my brow. “Exactly.”
We kissed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Riley
I woke up in the small room that was starting to become so familiar. I breathed in the scents—warmth, laundry detergent and a hint of paint—and felt myself smile. Downstairs, I could hear the piping voice of Parker, and Brooklyn’s gentle voice answering her.
This is home.
I couldn’t quite believe it. Thinking about Brooklyn brought a warmth to my heart such as I had never felt before. I was in love. I hadn’t realized that I could fall in love, but I had.
And the fake marriage had become more real than I ever could have imagined.
Downstairs, I could smell the delicious scents of breakfast being made—toast, butter, coffee. I consulted the clock: 9:00 a.m. I yawned and slid out of bed.
“Morning,” I said, after having washed and dressed in record time. Brooklyn gave me that look—the one that made my heart flip.
“Morning,” she said. Just then Parker launched herself at my legs.
“Mister Riley! Hello!”
I blushed at the warm welcome. Brooklyn smiled tranquilly at us from across the kitchen. She was cooking breakfast at the stove.
I extricated myself gently and went to join her.
“Hi,” I whispered. “Smells good.”
She turned around as I touched her shoulder. Her smile was like the sunshine—I felt it in every part of me. I wanted to draw her into my arms and cover her with kisses. I moved my hand on her shoulder, stroking her gently there.
“I smell smoke,” a small voice piped up as I jumped back guiltily.
Brooklyn looked down. The eggs were crisping at the corners. There was indeed smoke curling up from the pan, though it must have been oil spilled on the plate.
We looked at each other and collapsed in giggles.
Parker looked back at us with a bemused smile, then she, too, started to laugh.
That was my morning.
I kissed her at the door and headed off to work, feeling like I was floating.
When I got there, I was greeted with a knowing smile by Brad. I frowned at him but he didn’t say anything. We got down to business.
“Brad,” he said. “The franchiser—he’s supposed to be meeting with us at lunch today.”
“Great,” I said.
At lunch we headed to the corner restaurant we had agreed to meet. I was surprised that I felt fairly intimidated by the guy. I usually try my best not to find guys in business suits intimidating, but today I did. I looked down at my own jeans and tan-colored shirt and felt self-conscious.
The conversation started on a positive note but very quickly went south on me. It ended up that he didn’t think it was a good idea for us to open a franchise here.
“There isn’t a large enough client base in this neighborhood,” he explained. The way he said it made me feel even more self-conscious about my jeans and tan-colored shirt than I had when he first arrived. It sounded as if it was our fault that the neighborhood couldn’t support a big enough franchise.
“So what do you suggest?” Brad asked and I could tell he was feeling as awkward as I did.
“I suggest you look elsewhere,” the man said bluntly. I felt my heart sink into my shoes.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because it’ll fold,” the man said. “I don’t like to discourage you, but if you buy this I can foresee it closing in the next months. And then you’ll have wasted your money. I’m sorry.” He added.
“Doesn’t sound like it,” I muttered. Brad raised a brow at me.
“I beg your pardon?” the man said coolly.
“I said how about a drink.”
“Oh.” He gave me a look that suggested he knew very well I’d said nothing of the sort. But he took it in the spirit in which it was meant and we continued the conversation amicably enough. I was boiling mad, but I wasn’t about to show him that.
At the business, I let it out.
“Damn him,” I said to Brad. I said other things too, and I was glad it was just Brad who knew.
At length, when we’d vented our fury, Brad sighed.
“It’s okay, Riley,” he said. “We can do something else.”
“But the loan!” I protested. “Our plan. It’s all finished.”
Brad looked at me squarely. “If you think so.”
I stood back. I thought about that for a bit. Brad was right. It was only a bad idea if I thought it was. And maybe we could think of another way to do it.
It was then that I thought of Cliff. I hadn’t thought of him for months. Or, let’s be honest—I had thought of him, but not in a positive way. Cliff was my brother.
Maybe it’s time to let bygones be bygones.
It was too long to hold a grudge. And Cliff could help. He was a mechanic—maybe one of the reasons I resented him—I’d always wanted to be one. And he could start a workshop with me. If we repaired cars, we could sell them. A secondhand dealership. That was what was needed!
I smiled. The thought of it felt right. It was a neighborhood where we probably couldn’t sell firsthand cars with any turnover. But we could sell good quality, repaired secondhand.
“Brad!” I said, a bit smile on my face. “I just got an idea.”
As I laid it out for him, he started smiling. He seemed to think it was a good idea too.
“Great,” I said. I was actually less enthusiastic than I sounded. The idea meant I couldn’t stay estranged. I’d have to speak to Cliff. Forgive him for the mean things he’d said all those years ago—the things I’d allowed to fester inside.
“Okay,” Brad said to me. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” He looked at me with an awkward smile on his face that suggested that, even though he’d no idea about my relationship with my brother, he knew.
“Thanks, Brad. That’s great.”
He went out to the backyard to do some fixing and I stayed in. My hand moved to the phone, then moved away from it.
As I sat there, a thought came to me. My anger wasn’t relevant anymore. I was happy. What Cliff said a year ago didn’t actually have any bearing on my happiness. I could forgive him. I was just where I was meant to be and I was content with my situation.
I lifted the phone. Drew a deep breath. “Cliff?”
When I heard him on the other side of the phone, my heart stopped. “Riley?” he said. I had imagined this moment—I just hadn’t imagined anything like this.
My brother is pleased it’s me.
For some reason best beknown to me, I had always thought it was mutual. That Cliff really thought so badly of me that he wouldn’t ever think of missing me. I was wrong. He was surprised. Happy surprised. The sort of surprise you get when you discover that the letter from the municipality in your mailbox isn’t a demand but a rebate. Only times a thousand.
“Cliff.”
Then I was laughing. He laughed too.
“Riley, you rascal,” he said. “How come you’ve got back to me after so long! It’s been ages! I’m…it’s great.”
I guess it was my imagination, but he sounded choked up.
I cleared my throat. To be honest, I was choked up too. “Hey,” I said. “It’s great to hear you. I…actually, there are a lot of things I want to say. First, sorry.”
“Sorry?” Cliff sounded incredulous. “Riley, for what? I was wrong.”
I blinked. “No. No, you weren’t. But thanks for saying you were.”
He laughed. “Riley. I was wrong. I should never have said…the things
I said.”
He sounded embarrassed. I blinked rapidly, trying to get a hold on my voice.
“I know,” I said. “I guess not. But I’m not faultless.”
“I know,” he said. “I guess so.”
We both laughed.
“It’s great to hear you,” I said. “I wanted to ask you if…could you come around to chat sometime? There are a lot of things I want to ask you. But it’d be better if we could talk. Face to face.”
“Okay!” he sounded enthusiastic. “Let’s do that.”
I smiled. “Would you be able to come around for lunch tomorrow?”
He agreed. “Yeah! I’d like that.”
I felt a warmth in my chest. “Great,” I said. “My place, twelve in the afternoon. Okay.”
“Great.”
We hung up. When he’d gone, I leaned back. Closed my eyes. Let out a long, heavy sigh.
“Whew.”
I couldn’t believe it. After all that. It was easy.
When I thought it, I couldn’t help wondering why I hadn’t done it ages ago. I shouldn’t have kept all that anger inside me for months.
I guess I was in the wrong place to do anything about it.
I had really believed, then, that I was a loser. That nothing went right when I was around. That I’d failed my family. That was what I took from what Cliff had said, that last catastrophic argument we had. Maybe he hadn’t meant it quite the way I took it.
I was still sitting there when Brad came in.
“Do you…oh.” He turned around, hesitating in the doorway, as if unsure whether or not it would be safe to disturb.
“I did it,” I said. I sounded tired. I was, I guess.
“Oh.” He kept his voice toneless. His eyes asked questions. I nodded.
“I called my brother. He sounded interested.”
“Oh!” Brad was grinning.
“Well,” I cautioned. “We’re meeting tomorrow. So I don’t know for sure.”
“Okay,” he said. “But sounds good.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “It does.”
It did. The more I thought about it the more good it sounded. And the more good it felt. Cliff and I were finally talking again. And that was something I never thought would happen. I was excited. And the first thing I thought was how nice it would be to go home. Telling Brooklyn all about it would be nice.
