by Aliyah Burke
“Christ almighty. What now?”
Rolling to her feet, she left her room after a brief check to make sure the tear tracks were gone from her face. She turned the corner and froze. Brody stood in her doorway, talking to whoever was on the other side.
He is so fucking handsome. That wasn’t it; her love for him hadn’t just vanished. It had existed all these years; she had just kept it buried beneath the pain. She would always love him. He was her first and her one true love.
Today, his black pants hugged his firm ass and emphasized the muscles in his legs. The thighs seemed to barely contain him. His shirt apparently had the same problem, for his upper arms strained the fabric.
Whatever he has been doing has certainly worked for him. She approached, working hard to compose herself before she reached his side. It was her neighbor Richard Moses.
“Hi, Richard,” she said, forcing cheer into her voice. “Come on in. I see you’ve met Alton Rivers.”
He nodded and emphatically shook the offered hand. “I didn’t know you knew him, Hermione.”
“How do you know my Hermione here?” Brody asked in a deep voice that never completely hid the possessiveness in his tone.
“We’ve been neighbors for three years now.” Richard entered. “I’ve seen all your movies, and I hear now you’ll be starring in the next Hawk movie. Is that true?”
She wheeled around on Brody’s laughter and made her way to the kitchen. Unfucking believable. Comes over to my house because I’m doing him a favor and is enamored by the big Hollywood movie star in my living room. It’s not like he’s Denzel, Samuel, or Morgan. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the sarcasm contained.
At the fridge, she withdrew the cooling fruit pizza and placed it on the counter. The men entered just as she finished covering it. The timer went off, and with a smile, Brody walked over to the oven and withdrew the cookies as if he lived there. He didn’t even have to ask where she stored hot pads. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that knowledge.
“Here’s the pizza, Richard. It needs more time in the fridge, so put it in when you get home. Leave it in your icebox for about two more hours. It should be ready by the time the kids start arriving. I’ll bring the cookies over when they’re finished, as well.”
“Thank you so much. And…it was such an honor to meet you.” He cleared his throat and shifted his feet. “I know you’re busy and all here with Hermione, but if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, my son is having a party later today, and if you could come by and meet him with his friends…”
Brody nodded. “Absolutely. I’ll come over with Hermione to deliver the cookies.”
“Thank you so much!” Richard turned to leave and made it to the doorway before spinning back. “Guess I should take this one now. I can’t believe it, Alton Rivers. Next door.”
She rolled her eyes as the muttering vanished from the kitchen and out the door. Then, it was just her and Brody once more.
“Why did you introduce me as Alton?”
“Isn’t that who you are?”
“You know I’m Brody.”
“I know you left as Brody and came back as Alton.” She propped her fists on her hips. “And, did you have to tell him you’d be arriving with me? Not to mention, what’s up with that ‘my Hermione’ thing? You don’t have the right to claim me anymore, Brody.”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “You think not?”
“I know you don’t.” Lord, she longed to stomp her foot. “You abandoned me.” She’d meant to scream the words, but they slipped out on a pained whisper. Hermione gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth, furious at the vulnerability it painted of her.
He strode toward her, ignoring her when she held up hands to ward him off. Brody captured her shoulders in his large, strong hands.
“I know I did, Hermione. I was stupid and foolish for doing what I did. I never meant to come back here and throw your life into upheaval and turmoil. But, the moment I laid eyes on you, all those feelings I had for you previously snuck free from where I’d shoved them. I love you, still. I will always love you. If I could go back and undo all the harm I’ve done, I would, in an instant. I don’t know how to make this right.”
He drew her closer to him. “I’m so fucking sorry I wasn’t here for you. To face the town, when your parents passed, all of it. Tell me what I can do to being making up for it.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, tears leaking from her eyes. “I don’t want to hear declarations of love from you. You loved me before, or so I thought, but that didn’t keep you here then. I haven’t changed, Brody. If I didn’t have enough to keep you here before, I don’t have enough to do so now. Especially when you’re now a movie star.” She pressed her lips hard together. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“No.” The word was ragged as if being torn from his throat. “I can’t. God forgive me, but I can’t. I’ve tried, Hermione. Vance warned me about hurting you again. Melinda did, as well. I know you deserve so much better than me, but I can’t.”
Her laugh was brief and didn’t hold much humor in it. “What a pair we make because I want nothing more than to crawl into your arms, right now. As much as I know I should kick you out of my house and life, once and for all, I can’t do it. Damn you, I can’t do it. You’re my weakness, Brody. I don’t know if I like that at all, but there we have it.”
He lifted her in his arms, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “You’ll always be mine, Hermione. Always. How long until we have to fix the cookies?”
He said we. Just like he used to say. It was never a me, I, or you thing with him. They were a team. A couple. A we. “Long enough to be ravished at least once or twice.” She possessed his lips, loving them against her own.
“That, I can do.”
She closed her eyes, only to open them when he lowered her back to her bed. Watching him strip off his shirt, she licked her lips and inched back on the bed. He shook his head and grabbed her ankles, bringing her back to where he’d placed her.
“No moving.”
Her belly clenched in anticipation. She tracked his movements as he removed his boots and socks. Their gazes locked briefly until his fingers brushed the button of his pants. Then, she honed in on his groin. When he pushed them down, her tongue snuck out once more, as did a moan. He was going commando, and his cock, large and thick, burst free into her line of sight.
“No moving.”
She’d not even realized she’d moved and settled back. Need spiked through her, and she was desperate for him and his touch. “Brody,” she begged.
He approached her, naked and a prime male specimen. “I’m going to ravish you, Hermione. I’m going to strip you bare, lick you from head to toe, and see this new tattoo. Then, I’m going to slide this”—he hefted his cock—“inside you. I’m going to move slow and create a burn within you only I can extinguish. I’m going to put a vibrator on your clit, or have you hold it there. Then, I’m going to fuck you. I want you to scream my name.”
Her nipples were painfully tight, and she whimpered at his words. “What vibrator?”
“You had one in high school; I doubt you don’t have something now.” He moved to the drawer beside her bed and opened it. “I apparently have some choices here.” He held her gaze, his own dark with promise. “Looking forward to them. First things first, however. I get to undress you.”
She was so close to coming already. How the hell she’d make it through this, she hadn’t any clue.
f
Brody scrubbed a hand over the shorter hair on his head. He’d had Hermione cut it down for him a week ago. He hadn’t left Cottonwood Falls, and now, people knew he was Alton Rivers, so he spent a great deal of his time talking to folks about acting, posing for pictures, and signing autographs.
As for him and Hermione, he wasn’t giving up on her. He wanted her back in his life. She seemed okay in sharing her body with him, but he couldn’t get to the part of her heart he wanted. The deepes
t part, where he would have the key to her soul.
He ravished her at night, and she did the same and more to him. But, when the sun came up, she was all professional. She refused dates and anything other than a brief hello out in public if he saw her at the bank.
While he understood her hesitation and reservations about allowing anything to rekindle between them, it bothered him. He wanted it all. He’d been stupid enough to walk away the first time, he’d be damned if he did so again.
They’d spent many nights talking about what had transpired over the past ten years. On some level, he’d hoped it would help them move on, and in a way, he supposed it had. But, on another, he wondered if he wasn’t further back than he’d been before he returned to Cottonwood Falls.
Swiping the bottle of wine, he stepped out on the porch. The evening had been wet, and while the rain had ceased, the cooler temperatures had remained behind. Hermione leaned against the pillar of the porch.
He placed the bottle down by their glasses and stared at her for a few moments. She faced away from him, one arm around her middle as she gazed out over the night. He followed her direction and saw outdoor lights scattered around. The faint laughter of children playing outside and a few vehicles. There were no sirens, no yelling obscenities, and nothing to ruin the mood hovering in the air. He strode up behind her.
“I remember the first time I laid eyes on you, Hermione Windsor. Do you remember the first day we met? We were in kindergarten, and you walked into the room—new to town—holding your blue bag in front of your purple jumpsuit. Your hair”—he brushed a hand over the wavy curls—“was in two pigtail braids. Your big eyes skated past me as if I weren’t even there. Then, Melinda walked up to you, and you had found your first friend in Cottonwood Falls.”
She moved away from his touch, walking to the porch swing and curling up on the floral cushion. He pursued her, sitting on the other end of the bench.
Go easy. He recognized her skittish look; problem was he would pursue if she ran. He didn’t want her to run. He truly wanted to move beyond the elephant in the room about them.
“I told Jack Dempser who sat beside me I was going to marry you. He said I was crazy.”
“Seems to me, given how things unfolded, he had the right of it.”
“It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Telling Jack? He won’t tell anyone; he died three years ago.”
He frowned. “I had no idea.”
“Tends to happen when you cut yourself off from what you used to be part of.”
The reprimand was there but not a lot of heat to it. She was making a statement, and he understood that now. She wouldn’t keep from saying something to spare his feelings, but he didn’t believe she was deliberately out to hurt him.
“I’m beginning to see that.” Every day he spent here in Cottonwood Falls, he found he craved more. Being here fed something in his soul. Then again, so did acting. Maybe it’s strictly Hermione.
He angled his body, so he could see her better. The soft porch light fell over her, gentling the harsh set of her expression. I’m such an ass for what I did to her, and the mere fact she’s sitting here talking to me at all says so much about who she is.
Life wasn’t always fair. Yet, he had no one to blame other than himself for how this scenario had played out.
“I meant what I said to you before, Hermione.”
She rested her head on the chain holding up the swing. “And what, Brody? You want me to give you my heart all over again, so you can smash it when you return to Hollywood?”
“I have a career out there.”
She gave a short bark of laughter. “And, I have a life here. I’m not telling you to give anything up. In fact, you should probably be going back there. I know you only planned on being here a short time to warn us about the reporters. We’ve been duly notified and warned.”
“It’s not that simple.”
She looked at him. “Why not? What’s complicated now?”
“Us.”
“No,” she said, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to hear that. You don’t get the right to say that. You… No, you don’t dare go there.”
“You think I just came all this way for a fucking booty call?” His anger rose.
“I think you came back to appease your conscience, just like I said at the first. Fine. What more do you need to do to appease it? You’re making the mistake that just because I’m weak of flesh when it comes to you that I want to hear talk about us being together forever again.” She shoved to her feet, her body trembling. “You’re wrong. You don’t have that right. There isn’t a damn thing for us to discuss because there is no us. There was fucking. Got it? Was. As in no more. There is no us.”
She stomped by him to the door and slammed it behind her as she vanished inside. Her words created something cold and ugly in his gut.
He rose and walked to the door. After a short pause, he opened it. He heard her slamming things around in the kitchen, so he went there. Her back was to him, and he leaned in the entryway, waiting for her to face him.
“I’m not letting this go.”
She whipped around, and his heart caught in his throat at the evidence of her tears. The streamed down her cheeks. Why is she crying?
“Hermione?”
“Don’t. Just leave me alone, Brody. Go back to being Alton Rivers and your life in California. I…I’m done with this.”
“I’m not going anywhere until we figure this out.”
“No!” She slammed the pan on the burner. “You don’t get to decide you want to talk now. I wanted to talk before. To know why you left. Then…then…we had something to discuss, about us. Now, we don’t.”
Behind the tears was pain and anger in her gaze. “I’m here now.”
“And, you need to leave.” Her hands shook, and she flexed her fingers a few times.
“What aren’t you telling me?” She fixated her stare at a place on the floor and took several deep breaths. He approached her and settled his hands on her shoulders. “Why are you refusing to talk anymore, Hermione?”
“Let it go,” she said with a shake of her head.
“We can’t move on until we get past this block you have.”
“We wouldn’t have to if you’d been a man and had stuck around.” She brushed off his touch and tried to walk away.
He gripped her upper arm, preventing that feat. Smack. He’d not been expecting the hit.
“Go, Brody. Before I say something I can’t take back.”
He couldn’t follow what had pissed her off so badly. “I’m not leaving this time.”
“Bullshit. You have to get back there; you’ve said so already.”
“I can return.”
“Didn’t for ten years.”
He threw up his hands, pissed as well now. “We have gone over that, Hermione. I fucked up. I admit it. Are you going to hold that over my head forever? I can’t change what dumbass decision I made all those years ago.” He tried to calm down and realized maybe he should leave for the night. At least go take in some fresh air. “I’m not spending my entire life apologizing for that. I’ve done so already. Let it go.”
Her expression turned ugly and unforgiving. “Leave.”
He knew there would be no getting through to her right now. She was beyond livid, and if he pushed, all he would do would be succeeding in pushing her further away from him. That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted her closeness, not another hurdle between them. “I’ll be back in the morning, and we can talk then.”
She followed him to the door, where he stepped out, and when he looked at her there was a deadness in her gaze. “You should, you know.”
I wish I knew what she was going on about. “I should what? Apologize again? Why? You won’t forgive me for it. What more do I have to do for forgiveness?” He needed his heavy bag to work off his frustration and anger. On one hand, he understood her right and need to hold onto the anger. But, on the other, he didn’t,
for they couldn’t move on until she let it go and gave him a fair shake for starting once more.
“Live ten years with the knowledge your unborn child never made it into the world. That, on our wedding night, I was going to tell you I was pregnant and, instead, lost the child a week later. Live with that, and then, tell me if a simple apology is going to be enough.” She slammed the door in his face.
Her words nearly took him to his knees. He ran what she’d spoken through his mind over and over, unable to believe what he heard. The clicks of her locks engaging told him she did not intend to let him in once more. And, so he was out, short of busting down the door.
Chapter Five
Her eyes didn’t want to open when the alarm went off. Bumbling around, Hermione smacked the button, cutting off the annoying beeping. Drained. That was the only word she could come up with to describe how she felt. Both emotionally and physically.
For so many years, she’d kept that secret, even from her best friend, Mel. Her pregnancy, the loss, and the suffering she still went through each year on the month he or she should have been born. Until last night. Brody had pushed her to the edge, and she’d let it slip.
Part of her had expected him to pound on the door and demand entry. Hell, his alter ego, Alton Rivers probably would have kicked down the door to get to his heroine. Hermione punched her pillow and forced her eyes to open.
“I didn’t think kicking down your door would have gotten me any favors with you.”
She squealed and jackknifed up in bed. Brody sat across from her in the overstuffed chair occupying the corner near the window. His long legs stretched out before him, covered in the pair of light denim jeans he wore with a brown belt, encouraging her gaze to swing up to his groin and the large length she knew was there. The rich green shirt highlighted his dark skin, and she did her best to ignore the pulse of desire that swamped her in a single breath.
“What are you talking about, and what the fuck are you doing in my bedroom?”
“You muttered about Alton kicking down your door. I’m telling you this is your life and not a movie. I know that’s not the way to go, and seriously? You don’t know why I’m here? You didn’t expect me to take that news you dropped on me without warning last night and leave you alone, did you?”
