by Aliyah Burke
This was her sanctuary. A place his memory and ghosts hadn’t any foothold on her. Until now. Until he walked over that threshold. In seconds, his imprint was all over her home. This isn’t fair; it’s just not fucking fair.
“Sit. I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t wait to see if he listened, just hoofed it to her room. After embarking on a swift shower, she dried off and tugged on her work clothes. The professional attire would act as another layer of protection for her. Hopefully.
The scent of coffee filled the air, and she groaned in anticipation. She walked by him, still seated in her living room, and fixed herself a mug. After a moment, she made one for him, as well.
“So talk,” she ordered, setting the mug within his reach before retreating to the other side of the coffee table and taking a seat there.
“Since you called me Alton, I take it you know where I’ve been.”
She blinked at him.
“Okay,” he said. “The thing is, now, I’m in a big movie, and if it does as well as we’re hoping, people will be digging for stuff about my past.”
She narrowed her gaze slightly but continued to sip her coffee.
“I wanted you to have a head’s up in case some reporters come here asking about our past relationship.” He drank some coffee before peering directly at the mug then her.
“I didn’t poison it.”
“I know. I was thinking you made it exactly the way I love my coffee. You remembered.”
Something private and special passed between them. The hitch in his tone nearly got to her. Somehow, she stayed on her path and didn’t allow herself to be deviated. “What does you making it big have to do with me and my life?”
“They may come and ask you questions about us. About our past.”
She placed her mug down, incredulous. “And, what, you think that a bunch of strangers asking me questions will be harder to face than you hightailing it out of town, leaving me, your fiancée, behind without a word? Did you think holding my head up and looking the people in this town in the eye was easy? Why the fuck would I give a damn what a bunch of nosy ass reporters think of me, or your fans? I have already walked barefoot through hell, and trust me—Alton Rivers or Brody Paget, whichever goddamn motherfucking name you want to be addressed by—nothing your paparazzi can throw at me would ever be worse than what I faced here. Alone.”
She wanted to punch the wall. Anger coursed through her. She tried to calm down. She failed.
“You know what?” she began again. “I’m sure it was just guilt that brought you back here. Why the fuck would they even ask about me? I doubt you’ve been telling your caviar and champagne friends—crowd, I don’t even know, or care, if you have friends in that cesspool out there of plastic surgery, fake smiles, and diamonds—you were once engaged to a girl in a hick town. Don’t you dare come here to appease your conscience when you don’t even have the Goddamn decency to apologize for bolting on me. Get out!”
She shoved to her feet and stalked back to the kitchen, entire body shaking with the amount of raw emotion pouring through her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Ten years too late.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “Go peddle your apology somewhere else.”
Instead of leaving, he neared her. She hated how she still physically reacted to him. He stopped five feet away from her, crossing his arms. She stared at the watch on his wrist. Her heart lurched. It was the one she’d given him once they’d gotten engaged. Why would he still have that? Surely, he can afford something more expensive.
“Let me explain.”
Lifting her chin, she shook her head. “No. You don’t get to decide, after all these years, you want to come demand I listen to you. Especially since we both know you wouldn’t have returned if not for the threat of me spilling something about you to the press. As before, your concern is all about you. You know where the door is, use it.” She pivoted around and dumped the rest of her coffee, no longer having the stomach for it.
When she finished and turned, it wasn’t all that much of a shock to see him waiting there. Same position and this look on his face she’d wished had been there the years ago before he bolted. Stubbornness.
Perhaps, then, they would have been able to salvage their engagement. Their future with one another. Instead, he’d left. Ran. Vanished.
He stopped her when she began to move by him. Every cell in her body flared to life at the single touch, despite it being through her blazer. Forcing all emotion from her face, she angled it toward him and arched an eyebrow.
“You’ve changed so much,” he said, near to a whisper. His tone was seductive and held a hint a shock.
Only with him do I cuss this much. Otherwise, I don’t typically let those words pass by my mouth. “I’m sure. Do you mind?”
His gaze lingered on her lips. Would he? No. He wouldn’t dare. Her heart kicked up in speed, and her breathing grew shallower as it also increased. His thumb skimmed along her arm, driving her to distraction.
“No,” he murmured. “I most certainly do not mind at all.” He dipped his head and slanted his lips over hers.
Tentative at first, he moved lightly along her mouth. Then, he grew bolder, and his tongue invaded her mouth, seeking out hers. He tasted the same. Wholly addictive. She whimpered and struggled not to lean into him. Memories she’d moved beyond opened their doors and stepped into her thoughts. She couldn’t slam them all and not nearly fast enough.
Yanking away from him, she made a production of wiping her mouth. “That will not be happening again. You need to leave now.”
The emotional turmoil she witnessed in his gaze almost gave her pause. Almost. Instead, she infused steel in her spine and didn’t move until he’d left and she heard the click of the door behind him. Then, she stumbled to the table and sank on the nearest chair. This wasn’t fair, at all.
She didn’t move for a good five minutes, merely trying to get her heartbeat to return to normal and her breathing to calm down. Her hands continued to tremble as she picked up the used coffee mugs and put them in the sink before shaking her head and moving them to the dishwasher.
This wasn’t right nor was it fair. She didn’t need this, especially now. “I’m in a good place in my life, right now. Good job. House. Friends. Why is this happening to me?”
She slumped back in a chair at the table and dropped her head to the surface with a muttered groan. “I cannot be kissing him again. That’s not going to make this any easier for me if I allow that type of behavior. In fact, I should just avoid him, because when we’re in the vicinity of each other, my language goes to shit.”
Who knew if out-of-sight, out-of-mind would work now. Brody Paget or Alton Rivers hadn’t ever been completely out of her mind, despite being out of her sight.
f
He drove. Brody didn’t have an end destination in mind; he just drove. When he reached Tourin Park, he got off the road and entered. There were no vehicles there he could see, so he took the spot he wanted and got out.
Walking without direction, he ambled around the park. The breeze blew over him, welcoming him home, and he closed his eyes as he leaned against one of the large trees.
What the hell was I doing, thinking it would be smart to kiss her? He’d just acted. It had been the most natural thing for him to do. Taking those full lips with his. All he’d wanted to do was sweep her up in his arms and carry her back to the bedroom to relearn her body. Wipe the memory of any other man from her mind. Make her whimper and cry before screaming his name to the heavens as she came around his cock.
He hated the pain he’d put her through and wished he could go back and make it so that never happened. She deserved so much more. Then and now. The problem was, now that she was back in his life, he didn’t know if he could let her go a second time.
“May not have a choice here, Brody,” he said as he made his way to the nearest picnic table and sat on the top.
He tipped his head back. After years
of being in the Hollywood area, the silence and peacefulness he got sitting there in Tourin Park took him back to childhood. Days of running free, open spaces, Friday night games at the high school. Waterfalls and, of course, Hermione.
They’d been a couple since middle school, but he’d had a thing for her since kindergarten. He accepted that life wasn’t always fair. Especially in this situation. He had no one to blame other than himself. They’d been homecoming king and queen on their senior year.
“I can’t begin to imagine how hard it must have been for him to face everyone.”
“Didn’t you ask her?”
Brody opened his eyes to find Vance Hendrickson walking toward him in his unhurried stride.
“Vance?”
The man smiled. “I’d heard you were back in town, man. I figured one spot you would go would be here at some point. Saw you when I was on my way by. How the hell are you?”
Brody slid off the table and embraced his best friend from childhood. “I’m good. I’m good. How about you?”
They sat back on the picnic table. “Things are good for me. I own Old Man Tucker’s garage now. Renamed it Vance’s Auto Repair.”
“Congrats. I remember you in automotive class; even then, you impressed the teacher.”
“What can I say, it’s my calling. And, there are rumors about you. Where’ve you been?” Vance’s slow and unhurried drawl was another reminder of the difference in paces going in Cottonwood Falls versus Hollywood.
“Acting.”
The man at his side whistled. “No shit? Have I see you in… You look an awful lot like Alton Rivers.”
His smile was more sardonic than anything. “We’re one in the same.”
“Goddamn. I thought he—you—were a bit familiar. That’s great for you, Brody. Or do you go by Alton?” He waved a hand. “Either way, congrats. So what are you doing back here? Here for Hermione? I know you were rambling about her when I walked up.”
Brody explained why he’d returned to his friend. Vance never gave him shit for leaving or a hard time for his reason he’d chosen now to return. As they talked, he noticed the differences in their dress. He wore designer clothing while Vance’s jeans were torn and grease stained.
The man was comfortable and confident in his skin. But then, Vance had been that way growing up. A laid-back country boy who stood fast by his beliefs. And friends.
Vance had been picked on a bit in school for his lisp. Brody for being skinny. In elementary school, that forged a strong bond between them, which had lasted through high school.
Brody picked at the corner of the table. “Do you see her any?”
“I was to be your best man. She came to me and asked me two things the after you missed the wedding.”
He scrubbed his head. “And?”
Vance blew out a breath and shifted his booted feet on the wooden planks beneath. “She asked me if you were okay. And if I would return the ring to you. I told her I didn’t know since I hadn’t spoken to you and didn’t know where you were. So, she gave me a small pathetic attempt at a smile before returning the ring and walking out. Hell, only in the past couple of years has she come to my garage to take care of her car. So, no, I don’t see her much.”
“I’m sorry.” He flicked the wood away.
“Can’t say I wasn’t pissed at you for your actions, but I got over it. To stand up that woman and leave without a word to anyone, including your parents because I asked them, you must have had one hell of a reason.”
“I thought so. At the time.”
“How long are you here for?”
“Honestly, I’d planned on being here no more than a week.”
“And, now that you’ve seen Hermione?”
“How’d you know I’m not involved with someone?”
“Besides the way your voice gets all moony when you say her name. You’ve been asking me questions about her.”
More wood picking. “I never stopped loving her.”
The chime of a cell phone had Vance holding up his hand. “Hang on. Yeah?” Some muttering. “Sure thing, I’ll be right there.” More low drawls and mutters. Then, he ended the call. “I have to go. That was Sarah Mallery. She’s about to give someone a lift to my garage. I have to get to work.” He hopped off the table. “It was great seeing you again.”
Brody stood, as well. “Thanks.”
“One day, you’ll have to tell me how the fast life is.” They shook hands. “Swing by if you’re around for a while.” He strode off toward the decked out three-quarter ton Dodge dually, only to stop and pivot back. “If you hurt her again, I’ll kick your ass.” He wheeled back around, climbed up in the cab, and started the engine with a wave.
Brody accepted the warning and returned the wave as the diesel rumbled off down the road. “I really should leave her alone.” Key word was should.
Seeing her once more, in person and not in his memories, had reawakened the emotions he’d believed he’d moved beyond when he left Cottonwood Falls. Ran away is more like it.
He made his way to his Escalade and headed back to town and his childhood home. His mom had insisted he stay with them. All the while, he wondered what Hermione would be like in Hollywood. Would she like the fast life?
Chapter Three
She pounded along the path, inhaling deeply the fresh air that accompanied the early hour. This time of day had always been her favorite.
When she and Brody had been in school, they’d gotten up early to walk together, just time for the two of them. She shook his memory away, determined not to allow the promise of a spectacular day to be ruined with the thoughts of what had been.
She rounded the corner and slowed to a walk. This spot was her private sanctuary. On an outcropping, one overlooking the falls that had given the town its name. There were three cascading falls coming down beside one another, the large pool the water fell into was surrounded by tall, mature cottonwoods. The road leading up to the spot was also lined by more cottonwoods and gave the area a wide array of colors during the autumn season. Another of her favorites.
“This is still your place, isn’t it? I remember how much you loved it here. Especially in fall.”
She fisted her hands briefly as her world was rocked on its axis as if an eight-point-six earthquake had hit beneath her feet with the mere sound of his voice. I should have known he wouldn’t allow me any peace.
“It used to be my place,” she said, her words cutting and cold. “Used to bring me peace.”
“Passion, too, I recall.” He crouched beside where she stood
The numerous times they’d indulged in one another and made love here flashed in her mind. She slanted her gaze to him and bit back a groan. His light blue sleeveless shirt allowed her to ogle his defined muscles in his arm. He dragged his fingers along the ground. His shorts were tiny running ones and did nothing to cool her heated body. They boy had matured into a man she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to smooth her hands over the rippled muscles wrapped by that dark chocolate skin.
Part of her wanted to rail at him, but she didn’t have the energy to fight with him. And, while she was hurt still by his actions, she’d grown and knew better than to hold on to the grudge. It was done. What good would it do her to be pissed off all the time? That only took energy from her. Hands on hips, she walked in a tight circle to both calm down and give herself something to do. I can’t dwell on the fact this is where we’d been the day he’d asked me to be his wife.
Touching him is something to do. “Times long past.” She paused and stared out over the view.
“Nothing is ever too far for a memory,” he uttered. “How did you know it was me as Alton Rivers?”
“The first time I saw you was in Mitchell’s Revenge. The scene you had with one of the girls they flashed the camera over your ass, and I saw the triangle birthmark you have.”
“That was my second movie.”
“Congratulations,” she said in a cold tone.
�
��She didn’t mean anything to me. I never forgot you, Hermione. Or the times we shared with one another, here, down at the falls, and other places around Cottonwood Falls. Never. No matter how the days ticked by or what I was doing. You were always part of my thoughts.”
She tensed at the realization he’d moved right behind her. He smelled better than she recalled along with the faint hint of his sweat. She ground her teeth and bit back her whimper.
“I’m sure you’ve not spent the past ten years reliving high school rendezvous.”
One finger trailed over her exposed arm, causing her breath to hitch even more.
“You’d be surprised what I’ve been doing for those years.”
“In order to be surprised, I’d have to care.” She stepped away from the intoxicating caress from one finger. One damn finger.
“How was your date?”
She stopped herself from asking what date seconds before it slipped free from her mouth. Dampening her lips, she gave an offhanded shrug. “Wonderful. We ate, drank, and talked. Did other things.”
“Other things?” The deep rasp of his voice was a bloody aphrodisiac.
Her pussy grew slick, and her nipples pebbled. “Yes. Other things.”
He spun her around and slanted his mouth over hers. “Tell me something, Hermione. Does he know of the way your body trembles when I lick your tattoo?”
Her breasts were heavy with want of his touch. She remembered the first time she’d shown him the butterfly tattoo. The amount of attention he’d showered upon it had turned her into a mess of quivering muscles.
“That’s not the tattoo which makes me tremble anymore,” she said before she could control her tongue.
He wrapped her close in his embrace and dominated her mouth. She squeezed her eyes tight and just allowed herself to be taken away by the emotions roaring over her. She may be foolish for letting him do this, but she couldn’t negate how much she craved him and his touch.
He spread his palm over her belly and dipped below the waistband of her running pants. The outline of his hard cock pressed into her, as well. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and the muscles playing there.
