Brooke replied, “I’ll . . . tell . . . you . . . when . . . I . . . can . . . think.”
He had never before lost himself in anyone like this. It shouldn’t surprise him that being with her was so . . . amazing. Woman, what did you do to me?
Although he didn’t want to move, he rolled over, pulling her so she rested on top of him. He wrapped his arm around her waist so she couldn’t leave.
Brooke nestled her head into his neck and said, “That was—”
“My words exactly,” Gareth said and kissed the top of her head.
Brooke giggled. “I didn’t say what it was.”
“I know. There isn’t a word to describe that, so don’t bother trying.” Kissing her head again, he closed his eyes. “What do you say we take a nap and wake up for a midnight snack?”
“Are you seriously thinking about food right now?”
“Who said I’m talking about food? Now sleep, before I change my mind,” he teased.
She snuggled closer and said, “Be careful, I might be the one to wake you. You know, if I get hungry before you do.”
Woman, what are you doing to me?
He tightened his hold on her. “Impossible. I have a growing appetite even now.”
She giggled. “I’m sleeping already. Sweet dreams, Gareth.”
What else could he have with this angel lying beside him? “Sweet dreams, Brooke.”
He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but today was absolutely perfect. If waking meant this was going to end, then he didn’t want to wake again. Because tonight, you’re all mine.
9
He would’ve stayed in bed all day, just so he could continue holding her in his arms. But Alex’s mother had scheduled the time she’d serve breakfast on the balcony. Why had he agreed to all this?
Because I wanted this to be something Brooke would never forget.
Brooke stood by the railing sipping her tea, looking out over the ocean. She seemed to be a million miles away. Last night was beyond anything he could describe, but was she having regrets? There was nothing he could do if she was. It’s not like he could go back in time and erase everything they had shared.
He waited another moment then couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed to know what was troubling her. Getting up, his coffee cup in hand, he joined her by the rail. “It’s a beautiful morning.”
Brooke nodded. “And quiet. All I can hear are the waves crashing below on the cliff. This place is . . . magical.”
“But?” Gareth never woke the next morning with the woman he’d spent the evening with. Spending the night would’ve implied something that wasn’t there. But waking up with Brooke was what he’d longed for. Right now he couldn’t read her expression to tell if she wanted that too. He held his breath, waiting for the bomb to drop.
“I didn’t expect any of this Gareth.”
“The—”
“Feelings,” she blurted. “For the first time in my life, I’m standing someplace and thinking I could do this every morning for the rest of my life and never get tired of it.” She turned to him, looked up, and added, “But Gareth, neither of us has that to give. You’re leaving tomorrow night, and I’m going to be here completing my contract.”
So she did want more. He knew that was a risk when he brought her here. It was like a fairy tale, but he was no Prince Charming. He planned most of this getaway, but what made it so pretty and elegant sure as hell hadn’t been by his hands.
“It’s difficult when the life you have and enjoy crosses paths with another, threatening to derail all you’ve wanted. But like the ocean below us, the waves come crashing in yet the cliff remains.”
Brooke wrinkled her nose and asked, “Gareth, was this your attempt at poetry or deep philosophy? Because you’re confusing the heck out of me.”
“I guess I’m not good when it comes to this type of serious conversation.” That was an understatement. He avoided them like the plague. He needed to get Brooke to understand, but more importantly, he wanted to make sure she was okay.
“So do me a favor and don’t try to say what you think I want to hear. What I was trying to say was—”
The blaring of a horn echoed before the loud crash. Sounds of glass shattering and wood snapping filled the air as the entire house shook. Before he knew it, the balcony they were standing on began to give way, tilting slightly toward the water and rocks below. Brooke screamed and lost her footing. He saw her grip the railing, which no longer was secured to the house. Then another sound of cracking wood as the supports below the deck began letting go.
Another jolt; he felt helpless as her body fell forward. His heart stopped as the only barrier keeping her safe on the deck became a dangerous obstacle. Brooke’s high-pitched screams were like knives piercing his heart. Everything moved so quickly, but his actions felt as though they were in slow motion.
Reaching out, he grabbed one of her hands, trying to pull her to him, but it was too late. Momentum lost to gravity. Her body swung over the broken railing and the only thing that prevented her from falling to her death was his iron-clad grip on her wrist.
If he wasn’t careful, they were both going over. Gareth knew she was terrified, who wouldn’t be dangling hundreds of feet off a cliff? This was no time to panic. He needed to let her know it was going to be okay while he tried to steady himself. There was no second chance to get this right. Fuck! This was really bad. “Hold on, sweetheart. I’ve got you!” Gareth said, trying to calm her, but his words might have been more for himself. No way was he opening his fingers, not for a second. If she went, he was going with her.
“Gareth. Help me. God, please help me . . .” Brooke cried out.
He was leaning backward to offset the angle as well as her weight. It was all about leverage, and he needed it to be in his favor. He looked around to find something secure to hold on to. There was a post to his left that appeared to remain anchored to the house. Arching as far back as he could, until his back felt like it couldn’t bend any farther, he was able to reach it.
Yet in his new position, he could barely see Brooke. He knew he still had her. But they were running out of time. It wasn’t like someone was going to stop and rescue them. This was up to him, and he needed her to trust him completely. “Brooke, can you reach up with your other hand and grab my wrist?”
“I . . . I don’t . . . know,” she whimpered.
In a firmer tone he said, “Brooke. Listen to me. You can do this.” You have to do this. “I can’t do it without you. Now reach up with your other hand.”
He felt her wiggling, as she struggled, but eventually he felt her nails digging into his forearm. The most wonderful feeling. But it wasn’t over.
“Gareth, what do I do now?” Brooke sobbed.
“I’m going to pull you up. No matter what, Brooke, don’t let go. Don’t look down. Just focus on me.” He pulled slow and steady, with all his might. When she was finally back on the balcony and up against him, he reminded her again, “Don’t let go.” They were not out of danger. At any point this entire balcony could rip from the house.
“Gareth, what . . . happened?” she asked.
“I don’t know. But right now, let’s focus on getting off this thing. Do you think you can make it to the door if you crawl over me?”
“I . . . think so.”
She did as he instructed, inching her way up as he held tight to her arm with one hand. “That’s right. You’re almost there,” he said, never letting go of the corner post. Even as she made it to the door, he held on to her. “Okay. You’re in. You’re safe.”
“But you’re not. Gareth, pull yourself up before you fall.”
Without her to worry about, he was able to swing himself into position and crawl up the ninety-degree-angled balcony. Once inside he pulled her into his arms. Gareth felt her shaking against him. “You’re okay, Brooke. You’re okay.”
She ran her hand up his arm and then pulled away. Brooke held her hand up and he saw fear in her eyes again.
“Gareth, you’re bleeding?” He hadn’t noticed he’d been injured. The adrenaline had taken over. “Let me look at it,” she ordered.
He turned around and heard her gasp. “Oh my God. Gareth, your shoulder is . . . oh God. It’s bad. Really bad.”
He turned back to face her. “It’ll be fine. I just need a bandage.”
Brooke shook her head. “Gareth, you need stitches. A lot of them. We need to get you to the hospital.”
“It’s not that b-b-a-a-d . . .” He tried to fight it, but he felt himself swaying. “Br-ooke . . . I”
She hadn’t known who to call but Janet. Thankfully Janet had been able to get help, but nothing had been close by, and minutes felt like hours as she kept direct pressure on his wound until help finally arrived.
Brooke hadn’t spent any time at a hospital, not for herself or anyone she knew. This was an experience she’d be happy to do without. The doctors said Gareth would be okay. But until he was out of surgery and she saw for herself, they were only words.
She couldn’t get the picture of his shoulder out of her mind. He’d lost a lot of blood. It wasn’t just a gash, it was torn open, and a piece of wood had been stuck in it. She felt queasy again just thinking about it.
“Brooke, why don’t you let the doctor look you over while we wait?” Ziva suggested.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she replied firmly. “If it wasn’t for Gareth, I’d be . . . well, I wouldn’t be sitting here, that’s for sure.” No one knew how close she’d come to dying. But Gareth risked his life to save hers. He’d promised her she’d be okay. He said he wouldn’t leave her, and she wasn’t going to leave him.
“Alex told me what happened. What a place for that truck to lose its brakes and slam into the house like that. It actually pushed the house off its foundation.”
“And us, almost off the cliff.” If Gareth hadn’t caught her when he had . . . I’d be dead.
“I can only imagine how frightening that was. And if Alex’s mother had returned home, she might not have been so lucky. The front of the truck crushed the rocking chair she sits in all the time. It really is a miracle.”
She could think of it as that, but there was a fatality, the driver of the truck. Brooke wondered if he had a family, a wife and children who were going to mourn his loss. Yes, it could’ve been worse, but Gareth was hurt and one man was dead. It didn’t feel miraculous right now.
Brooke looked at her phone. Her mother was calling for the third time. They always spoke around this time of day, when she would’ve gotten off work and settling back into her room. Not answering it was going to cause unnecessary panic. Getting up, she said to Ziva, “Excuse me. I have to take this call.”
Walking away also gave her a moment to breathe. Maybe talking to her mother about anything but the accident was exactly what she needed right now.
“Hello, Mother, how are you?”
“Brooke, I’ve been calling. You had me so worried. Is everything okay?”
She didn’t want to lie, so she kept her answer vague. “Not the best day, but it could always be worse, as you say.”
“I do. But sometimes, in that moment, it doesn’t matter. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not right now, Mother. I’m . . . tired. Why don’t you cheer me up with one of your stories? What have you and Father been up to?”
Her mother laughed. “Your father has decided he wants to sell the house.”
“What! Wait! What made him want to do that?” Not that she spent much time there, but when she was in the States, it was where she laid her head at night. It was the place she knew she could always return to.
“You’re not going to believe this, but after all these years, your father wants to go home.”
Brooke wasn’t sure where that was, as they had moved so much. “To where?”
“Panama. He wants to slow down, relax, and spend time with family.”
“I’m his family,” Brooke said bluntly.
“You are. But you are not here, Brooke. This house is too big and empty. He wants to go and live near his papa and mama while they are still alive. You know, life is short, and no one is promised tomorrow. We don’t want to spend all our time on the run. We want to enjoy the simple things now.”
Brooke never thought about how short life could be until today. Normally she’d have accused her mother of trying to guilt her into staying home longer this time. But she wanted her parents to be happy and if her father had always wanted to return there, he should.
“Please tell me you’re not moving before I return.” Brooke didn’t want to think about where she was going to stay or what she was going to do. At least not right now. She already had enough stress worrying about Gareth.
“You know your father, when he decides something, he acts promptly.”
Great. The timing sucked. Brooke was going to have to tell Janet she couldn’t fulfill her one-year contract so she could go home and see her parents one more time before they sold their house and moved to Panama. She could always find an apartment somewhere, but why? It wasn’t as though Brooke planned on staying there very long herself.
“Mother, I need to take care of a few things here. Maybe we can talk more about this tomorrow?”
“Of course, dear. But don’t forget, you need to come home and get your things in order before we move.”
“Yes Mother. I’ll. . .I’ll start making plans.” Of course they weren’t for the reasons her mother had hoped.
“Have I provided you a strong enough distraction yet?”
Oh, not even close. “You have given me plenty to think about. But Mother, I really need to go. I love you, and we will talk more about this later.”
“I love you too, dear.”
When Brooke ended the call, she turned back toward Ziva. The doctor had just come out and Brooke rushed over to him. “How is he? Can I see him?”
“He did well in surgery. We were able to remove all the wood and stitch him back together. It appears he also dislocated his shoulder. He must have been in excruciating pain.”
Holding on to me. “But he’s going to make a full recovery, right?”
“Yes. Did you notice if he hit his head? Because he appears to have a slight concussion.”
God, what else? “I . . . I don’t know. I wasn’t able to see him from where I was.” Dangling over a cliff.
Ziva said, “I wish Logan was here. He’d take care of him.”
Brooke knew Logan was a top-notch neurosurgeon. Please don’t let him need one.
The doctor didn’t seem offended about Ziva wanting to bring in a specialist. If anything he seemed to be in agreement. “I wish he was here as well. Head injuries should always be monitored closely. But so should his shoulder and back. From what I hear you are the one who took care of him until he was able to be brought to the hospital.”
“Yes. I did the only thing I knew.” That wasn’t much. Very basic first aid she had learned in high school.
“Your actions probably saved his life. It definitely saved his arm,” the doctor explained. “But my recommendation is he gets home as soon as possible. He is not from Tabiq, and my fear is infection setting in. I cleaned the wound, but there are still particles inside.”
She felt another wave of nausea. Saved his arm. She had known it was bad, but never had she thought he could’ve lost it. Focus. Don’t look back. Look forward. Brooke nodded. “Get him home. Okay, I can do that,” she said confidently, even though she had no idea how. She could ask her parents to use the private jet, but that would mean explaining everything to them. She could ask the Hendersons to fly him out as well, but that didn’t seem like the right thing to do either. They were friends, but Gareth needed more. He needs his family. She would ask Gareth what he wanted when she saw him. “Thank you so much for taking care of him. Can I see him now?”
“He’s still asleep. Why don’t you give him another hour or two, then you can go in.”
She nodded and the doctor left. Then she turne
d to Ziva. “You heard the doctor. We have to get him home. Do you know how to reach his family?”
Ziva shook her head. “Neither Alex nor I have ever met them. But I’m sure they are not that hard to find. Everyone knows of the Lawsons in New York. At least that is what Alex said. If you want, Alex can make the call.”
“No. That’s okay. I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure? You look like you’re about to drop right here. I don’t think you need the stress,” Ziva said.
“Gareth talked to me several times about his brothers. I feel like I know them.” Brooke never expected to meet or speak to any of them, but she knew this information needed to come from someone who truly cared about him, not from some hospital official or a Henderson, who she still wasn’t sure if they were simply one of Gareth’s customers. Even with everything she knew about Gareth, this showed her how little that really was. When they arrived at the hospital, she didn’t know anything about allergies, medical history, or heck, even his date of birth. At least she could provide his family the facts, and give them the hospital contact information so they could call with any further questions. It was the best she could do for Gareth, and God knows she owed him.
“You promised you’d get yourself checked out once you knew he was okay,” Ziva reminded her.
But he’s not okay, is he? “I will. But only after I talk to his brother.” She didn’t need a doctor to tell her what was wrong with her. It was damage to her heart. Damage that was beyond repair. She almost lost the man she’d come to care very much about. Everything has been perfect. Too perfect.
“Do you want some privacy?” Ziva asked.
Brooke shook her head. Why? It wasn’t like she was about to say anything Ziva didn’t already know. Besides, it felt good to have some moral support. She pulled out her cell phone and searched for the number for Lawson Steel. Once she had it she hit call.
“Good morning, thank you for calling Lawson Steel, how may I direct your call?”
“Hello, I’m . . . I’m calling to speak to Dylan. Dylan Lawson.”
“And who may I say is calling?” the woman asked.
The Billionaire's Scandal (The Blank Check Series Book 3) Page 12
