“Stop,” he commands, his voice stern but soft. “There’s no way this is your fault. You were just a kid.”
“And then all of this bullshit with Cole. I never would have continued dating him had I known he was a glorified drug dealer,” I say, my voice lowering with each syllable.
Brody shifts so he’s sitting beside me. Cupping my chin, he says, “My momma used to say, ‘Storm’s roll in angry and fierce, thunder rollin’, lightning flashin’, but when the storm ends, there’s a calm in the air that shows you everythin’ is gonna be all right.’ This is your storm. You’ll get through this, I promise.”
Brody’s eyes soften, that radiant sparkle returning. Staring into those soul-capturing irises, I can’t deny the attraction I feel toward him, the electricity running through my body. His lips twitch as he leans in, his gaze never leaving mine. Tugging my chin closer, I can almost taste him. He lingers for a moment, brushing his soft lips against mine. No longer able to bridle my feelings, I shift, pressing my lips against his.
Placing his hand behind my neck, he pulls me closer and thrusts his tongue past my lips. I’m completely at his mercy. The way his tongue caresses mine, I’m lost in a sea of emotions. Fire races through my veins, warming my icy heart. This is exactly what I need—want. I want him. His taste is intoxicating, and I must have more.
Breaking away, he rests his forehead against mine. “This is somethin’ I’ve wanted for a while, but I won’t take advantage of you. Not while you’re hurtin’,” he says between harsh breaths.
“Brody—” I start, my heart still racing and breathing ragged.
“When you’re ready, I’ll be waitin’.” Knowing in my heart he’s right, I nod in agreement. My body, however, is in total denial. That one moment, his lips on mine, took away the pain. One touch pushed back the memories that haunt me, terrorize me. No one, not even Cole, has ever been able to accomplish that before. “It’s gettin’ dark. Why don’t we head back?”
Brody stands to gather our belongings and shoves them into his bag. Knotting his fingers with mine, we walk hand in hand back to the truck.
THE NEXT MORNING, I wake up despondent. The warmth of the sunlight streaming through the window on my face doesn’t help the cold, emptiness I feel. Hashing up my past brought more nightmares than normal. Some of which were about my brother, and I’m physically defeated. One minute, he would be standing in front of me, laughing. The next, his pale, stiff body was on a slab. I’m confident I was awake more than I was asleep. My head feels like a lead brick and my muscles ache. Rolling my head, I check the time. Seven-fifteen.
I lie in bed, my eyes refusing to close. Knowing I’m not getting any more sleep, I drag myself up. Before I do anything, I need coffee. That should help rid me of the fog covering my brain. I shuffle my feet across the floor and wander into the kitchen. After placing coffee in the old fashioned pot, I pick up my phone. As I stare at the blank screen, it dawns on me I haven’t spoken to Taryn in days. Brody’s kept me busy, but I miss my best friend. Today more than ever, I need to hear her voice. Disguising my number, I call her. She answers on the first ring.
“Delani?” she screeches through the speaker.
“Hi,” I say, my voice weak and apologetic.
“Ohmigod! Where the fuck have you been?”
“I’m so sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“You’ve been busy? Did you really just say that?” Shit, she’s really pissed.
“I miss you,” I squeak, trying to hide a sob.
Taryn inhales a sharp breath. “Oh, sweetie. What’s wrong?” She knows me better than anyone. I spin the diamond eternity band on my right ring finger—the one my mother got from my father on their tenth wedding anniversary. I found it on her vanity the day after their plane crashed and have been wearing it ever since. Anytime I feel threatened or nervous, I spin it.
“So, remember that guy I told you about, Brody?” I ask as I twist my hair.
“Yeah, the cocky prick?”
“Yeah, him.” I stop twirling my hair and sit on my hand. “He’s not as bad as I originally thought.”
“Is that so?” she asks, her tone curious.
“He’s been nice, and I’ve been talking to him,” I say, pausing. “I told him about Dante.”
An uncomfortable silence stretches between us. After a minute, she says, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. I’ve done enough talking. It’s just . . . I haven’t thought about this in so long and . . .” my voice trails off. The now monstrous box containing all my anxiety is open wide and I can’t get the lid back on. I need to compartmentalize; take the box and shove it way back in my brain. Taryn’s been my rock. If anyone can force the lid back on this huge crate, it’s her.
“Do you need me to sing?” I think about that for a second. Do I? It’s always helped before, and I need all the help I can get. When I don’t answer right away, she starts to hum a song I know well—a song that’s always calmed me down, a song my mother would sing to Dante and me when we were sad. Closing my eyes, I block out everything but the sound of her voice. After a few notes, she starts to sing, “We were born before the wind, also younger than the sun . . .”
I’m immediately transported to my happy place. And even though the song should make me sad because my parents are dead, it’s one of the only good memories I can remember. With each word she sings, the box is pushed farther back into my subconscious. With each note, waves of peace surge through my body. By the time she’s finished, I’m almost back to my old self. “Better?” she asks.
“I love you, Taryn,” I murmur.
“Right back atcha.”
A loud banging from behind startles me and I jump. “Hold on a sec,” I mutter, turning toward the brand new door Brody had installed while we were at the beach yesterday. Walking over, I look through the peephole. Of course, it’s Brody. “Can I call you later? I need to deal with something.”
“You better. I want to know all the details of what’s going on there. Travis won’t tell me anything.”
“I promise, I’ll call you.”
“I’m gonna hold you to it. Bye.”
I open the door as I press end and Brody strolls right past me. “Sure, come on in,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
“You’re as saucy as ever,” he says with a grin. “This would be much easier if I had my own key.”
“Why? So I can wake up with you standing over me?” I ask, lifting a brow.
“That’s not a bad idea,” he counters. “Do you like to sleep naked?”
Changing the subject, I say, “You know, yesterday was the ‘all about me’ day. When do I get to find out all the dirt on you?” I ask, tilting my head. “I’m sure you’re filthy.”
“Well, I thought we’d go horseback ridin’ today.”
“Um, I’ve never been on a horse.”
Brody gasps, his eyes wide. “Never?” he whispers, and I shake my head. “Really? Never ever?”
“Since you’re slow to get the point, let me say it out loud again. I have never ridden a horse. Ever.” His smile grows wider.
“Well, this is gonna be fun. Go get dressed. Make sure you wear a pair of comfortable jeans and your cowboy boots.”
AN HOUR LATER, we arrive at an immense farm in the middle of nowhere. Pulling down a long driveway, we approach a massive barn. He places the truck in park and reaches behind him, pulling out the large brimmed hat he wore dancing the other night. Now, he looks like a true cowboy. Turning to me with a dazzling smile, he asks, “You ready, darlin’?” in that southern drawl I love.
“No,” I whine. In theory, it sounds like fun, but I’m not so sure.
“C’mon. I swear you’ll love it.” Brody jumps out of the truck and races to my side. Opening the door, he extends his hand. “I promise, it’ll be fun.” Relenting, I place my hand in his. He tugs my arm and I fall toward him. Brody catches me by the waist and places me down gently, gliding me against his body. Sliding his hands down to my hips, he holds m
e in place. The boyish playfulness radiating off him in waves starts to relax me. His smile is contagious and I begin to look forward to our ride. I mean, how bad can it really be?
Placing an arm around me, he guides me toward a smaller building on the other side of the barn and opens the door like a true gentleman. I enter first and a woman sitting at a large desk greets, “Good morning! How can I help y’all?”
“Ma’am,” Brody says as he tips his hat, “we’d like to go out on a picnic ride.”
“Sure thing, sugah,” she says, looking down at a schedule book.
“Lani here’s never ridden before,” Brody says with a wink.
“That’s not a problem,” she says, smiling. “We get that a lot.”
“I’m standing right here,” I warn.
Chuckling, Brody says, “Just wanna make sure you don’t get a wild one.”
“Wild?” I ask, puzzled.
“Not to worry. She can ride Boomerang. He’s a good boy.”
“Boomerang?”
“Yes, ma’am. No matter what happens, he always comes back,” she says with a chuckle. I’m not sure how I should take that remark.
“Now, I, on the other hand, want a frisky horse,” Brody interjects.
“Hmmm,” she mutters, looking down at her book. “I have just the horse for you. You can ride Lucifer.”
“Lucifer? Really?” I ask.
“He’s a spitfire, that one,” she laughs.
“He’ll do,” Brody says with a nod.
Handing the woman his credit card, he pays for the session. After he signs the slip, she hands him back his card and a receipt. “Go out the door and through the barn. About halfway down, you’ll find an office. Show them this and they’ll do the rest.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he says with a tip of his hat.
We exit and walk toward the barn. Finding the office she spoke of, Brody hands a man the receipt. He glances at it and nods before leading us to the other end of the barn. Exiting from the back, we enter a large fenced in area. “Wait here while we saddle up your horses,” he says, pointing to a bench. “Clint will have Boomerang. Billy will have Lucifer.”
Nodding, I take a seat next to Brody and look around the expansive property. Brody places his hand on my thigh and presses down. “Relax,” he says.
“Huh?”
“Your leg, it’s goin’ a mile a minute.” One of my many nervous ticks. I don’t even know I’m doing it most of the time.
“Sorry,” I murmur, trying to settle the bouncing of my leg.
“Don’t be sorry, just relax. This is goin’ to be an amazin’ day.”
As Brody finishes the last syllable, two beautiful horses are led out the other side of the barn. The larger of the two is dark brown with a long flowing mane. The other is chestnut and its mane is knotted close to its neck.
“As you get close to Boomerang, don’t walk in a straight line but an arc. Horses can read our emotions and intentions, and don’t like to be approached head on. Also, avoid direct eye contact and be sure he’s facin’ your direction,” Brody instructs as we stand. “Once you get close enough, let him smell the back of your hand. It’s his way of gettin’ to know you.”
“Okay,” I mutter, tugging on my fingers.
“There’s nothin’ to be nervous about,” he says, his voice soft and calm. “Boomerang’s gonna love you.” With that, Brody strides through the gate toward the horses. “The larger one Lucifer?” he asks the man holding the larger horse’s reins.
“Yes, sir. Good luck with this one,” he chuckles. Lucifer shuffles his feet and shakes his head, as if to agree.
I watch Brody’s approach to Lucifer. Walking in an arc, but not getting too close, he offers the back of his hand to the horse. As if weighing the decision in his mind, Lucifer waits a moment before walking closer to Brody. Once he sniffs his hand, Brody strokes his long neck. Lucifer pushes his head into Brody’s chest and bumps him affectionately. “See,” Brody calls out to me, “easy.”
Looking over at Boomerang, I start my approach, following Brody’s instructions to a tee. Suppressing my nerves, I hold out my hand. Boomerang’s wet nose grazes my skin, then he lowers his head, pressing his forehead into my palm. He nudges me and I freeze, not sure what to do. When I don’t react, Boomerang lifts his head and nibbles my hand.
“You okay over there?” Brody asks, already seated on Lucifer.
“Great,” I answer.
As I pull my hand away, Clint chuckles. “He’s being silly,” he says to me. “He wants to be pet.”
“I can do that,” I mutter, reaching out and stroking Boomerang’s neck. He puts his head down and exhales a deep, fluttering breath through his nostrils, as if to sigh. It makes me smile.
“I’ll help you mount him,” Clint tells me. He leads Boomerang over to a set of steps, maneuvering him so they are on his left. “Use your leg and momentum to propel yourself. Otherwise, you’ll shift the saddle and hurt his back.”
“Okay.” Stepping up on the block, I place my left leg in the stirrup.
“Now, place one hand on his mane and the other on the curved part at the back of the saddle,” he says, pointing toward the back of the horse. Doing as instructed, I position my hands. “Use your right leg to kick off the block and swing your leg around.”
Taking a deep breath, I push off and swing my leg around. “Okay, you’re up. Here are the reins. You use them to control Boomerang’s movements. He’ll respond to verbal commands too, like ‘giddy up’ to go forward and ‘whoa’ to stop.”
I make a mental note of the instructions, hoping I can remember it all.
“Boomerang is a really good horse, but, if for some reason, he gets spooked, you need to know how to stop him.”
“What?” I ask, looking over at Brody, my eyes wide in panic. He laughs and quickly bites his lip. His eyes turn sympathetic, and he mouths, “You’ll be fine.”
I turn back to Clint, who continues his lesson. “While holding the reins tightly in both hands, pull on one side until his head turns. This forces him to slow in a circular motion and will allow you to regain control if he’s going too fast.”
“Doesn’t seem too complicated,” I mutter under my breath.
“Like I said, he’s a really good horse. He rarely bolts.”
“That’s good to know.” Boomerang nods his head, as if agreeing.
Lucifer shuffles his feet and neighs loudly, drawing my attention. He pricks his ears forward and lifts his tail. “Are we ready? Lucifer’s growin’ impatient,” Brody bellows out.
“I guess so,” I say before looking over at Clint. “Are we good?”
“You’re ready. Are you comfortable?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Positioning my feet in the stirrups, I make sure my center of gravity is where it should be. “I guess I’ll follow you, but don’t go too fast.” With a few clicks of his tongue, Brody turns Lucifer and trots out of the pen. Without any nudging from me, Boomerang follows closely behind.
I stay behind Brody as we make our way down a dirt path through a forest of trees, occasionally ducking to avoid a low hanging branch. The ride is slow and peaceful.
About an hour into our quiet ride, the trail opens up to a clearing near a river, the ground covered in vibrant wildflowers. Brody stops his horse and jumps off. “We’ll rest here for a bit, let the horses relax. Do you need help gettin’ down?” Crap. I never thought about getting off the horse. There’s no stool to help me in the middle of nowhere. “Don’t be stubborn,” he quips.
“I’m thinking,” I retort, my eyes shifting to the ground. It’s a long way down.
Before I can answer, he’s by my side with his hands clasped. “Swing your leg over and put your foot here.” He motions to his hands. “I won’t drop you.”
Holding the horn to the saddle, I swing my left leg over, my right foot planted in the stirrup. Bending my knee, I place my left foot in his hands. As I try to dismount, my hand slips from the saddle and I fall sideways, right
into Brody’s awaiting arms. “You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?” I ask, my incredulous tone catching him by surprise.
His lips twist into a smile. “Now, why would you think that?”
Narrowing my eyes, I smack him on the chest. “Put me down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, chuckling. Placing me on my feet, he backs away, smiling.
“Wow. This is a pretty random spot to stop, huh?” I ask, my lips twitching up into a smile.
“I thought this would be a great place to stop for lunch,” he says, his eyes glowing.
“Really?” I ask, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Besides,” he says, mirroring my demeanor, “you wanted to know all about me. If this isn’t the perfect spot to spill my guts, I don’t know where is.”
“Now you have my interest,” I tease.
Brody pulls out a blanket and several boxes from the saddlebag on Lucifer’s back. After spreading the blanket down, he unpacks the boxes one by one, revealing several different salads and sandwiches. One of the last things to come out is a bottle of white wine and two glasses. “I wasn’t sure what kind you liked, so I went the safe route with Pinot Grigio. The lady at the liquor store helped me pick out a name.”
“Sneaky bastard! I didn’t see you bring anything with us.”
“I’m a cop, I know how to be discreet,” he mocks.
“I noticed,” I reply, ripping the wine from his grip. Looking over the bottle, I add, “I like Pinot Grigio, so you did good.”
“Why, thank you, ma’am,” he says, tipping his hat with exaggeration. The gesture makes me giggle. Taking back the bottle, he unscrews the top and pours the wine into both glasses. Holding up his glass, he says, “Here’s to a fantastic ride.”
The cool, crisp wine is a refreshing welcome to the hot afternoon. All things considered, even with his lack of wine knowledge, the Pinot tastes pretty good. I’ve never heard of the brand, but there’s a lot of things down here I’ve never heard of.
I take a seat on the blanket as Brody leads the horses down to the river to drink. I watch how well he handles them both. As he guides them to the bank, I can’t help but notice his muscles rippling under his tight t-shirt. Then, he bends over. Jesus fucking Christ. That ass. The view was nice before, but now it’s amazing. I could stare at him bent over all day.
When the Storm Ends Page 9
