Brooks (Benson Brothers #1)

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “You make sense to me. Being with you makes sense to me. And holding onto you makes me feel like I’m not just... existing without living. You’re the best part of my day, Remi. And I’m sorry if that scares you, but there it is.” It should scare me. But I wasn’t afraid, really. I just felt... warm. Safe.

  “I hate it when you say things like that.”

  “And by hate it, you mean the opposite of that, I’m guessing,” he said.

  “Maybe.”

  Yes.

  Eleven

  Brooks

  Avery came to see me at the store that following Tuesday. He was all dressed for work in a grey suit, red tie and crisp white shirt. He’d probably ironed the damn thing within an inch of its life.

  “Hey, Ave, what can I do for you?” I asked as I washed pizza sauce off my hands.

  “Do you have a minute where we can talk in the office?” This wasn’t good. He looked serious and I hadn’t seen him quite that bad for a long time.

  “Uh, sure.” I looked around and saw that the store was pretty much empty, so I figured we could take a few minutes. Our regular customers had no problem yelling out when they wanted to buy their beer and cigarettes.

  Avery followed me into the little back office where Mom used to do the accounting and bookkeeping, and where I did most of the organizing now. It had been in much better shape when she was here. Also, more clean.

  I pulled out the rickety chair and Avery took the only other one.

  “What’s up?” I asked, leaning back. I knew exactly how far I could lean before the chair would tip over.

  “The utility bills,” he said. I had a feeling he was going to notice that. We’d been using a lot more fuel since Remi had started baking here. I figured the amount we got from her in commission made up for it, but I guess Avery didn’t think so.

  “Yeah, Remi’s been baking here at night. I said she could use the stove and so forth. She doesn’t really have a place to go. And she’s paying us commission.” I’d explained this to him already, but apparently it hadn’t gotten through his sometimes-thick skull.

  “Yeah, I just don’t think we should be using those resources and spending money for that. Not that it isn’t nice of you to offer, but not at the expense of the store.” I was going to punch him in his fucking face.

  “Yeah, well, I talked to Mom and Dad and they agreed to it, so you don’t really have any grounds to object now, do you? You’re not the one who’s here, day after day, putting in the hours. You go to your fancy job in your fancy suit and to hell with the rest of us!” Somehow, I was standing and I was yelling right in his face.

  “Throwing a tantrum isn’t going to change things, Brooks. The money situation isn’t good. The economy is bad right now and we should be making cuts, not adding expenses. I thought we could have a reasonable discussion about this, but I guess not.” His face was red and it was taking everything in me not to deck him.

  “You’re not here. You’re never here. Why didn’t you just move away and leave us alone?” I’d wanted to say those words for so long, and they’d finally come out. It was about time.

  He opened his mouth to throw something back at me, but then clenched his jaw. His face was red and I could feel the anger radiating off him.

  “You have no idea what I’ve done, Brooks. None. And don’t you dare fucking say that I don’t care about my family.” He had his finger in my face and it shook. I wanted to smack it away, but if I touched him, we were going to get physical, and I wasn’t going to do that here. We’d had fights when we were younger, but not for a long time.

  “You think you know everything, but you don’t. I can’t even talk to you anymore.” He pivoted and stormed out. I waited for the sound of the screen door to slam before I left the office and went back to the kitchen. I grabbed a cup and drank a glass of cold water.

  It didn’t cool my temper any.

  What the fuck was he talking about? I had no idea. He’d basically just told me that he’d done something for the family or the store that I didn’t know about. What?

  Either my parents had been lying to me, or he was full of shit. I was leaning toward the latter, but something in the way he said it had rung true. Avery wasn’t a bull-shitter. That gave me something to turn over and over in my mind for the rest of the day. I was pissed and distracted and it just kept getting worse until I got a text from a pretty girl.

  My mom is taking me clothes shopping, please kidnap or kill me. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Your dad has guns, right? I don’t think I should do either of those things, but if you want to escape, you know where I am.

  Where I always was. At Benson Variety.

  ****

  “I had a talk with Avery today,” I said that night at dinner. “It got a little... heated.” Mom gave me a look that said oh, Brooks without her even having to speak the words.

  “He basically said that I didn’t know what he’d done for this family and I was kind of wondering what he meant?” Grayson grumbled under his breath across the table from me and Mom shared a look with Dad.

  “He just helped us out with some things at the bank, that’s all. Loans and taking out a second mortgage on the house.” I choked on my fried chicken.

  “You took out a second mortgage?” Mom nodded as if I was being stupid.

  “We needed to keep the store going, so we did what we had to.” She raised one shoulder and lowered it like, no big deal. What was she talking about?

  I started to ask more, but Grayson sighed and Dad cleared his throat.

  “I don’t think this is the right discussion for the dinner table.”

  “Then when can we discuss it, because I need to know what’s going on. Jesus.” Mom glared at me and I glared right back. I didn’t like people hiding things from me. I was a grown-ass man. I could handle it. I’d been handling it. Did they think I was too stupid or something?

  The more I thought about it, the madder I got (again). I excused myself from the table early and headed upstairs. My parents let me go. Part of me knew I was being immature and throwing a tantrum, but I was too far gone.

  When I got to my room, I tore open some paint and grabbed a canvas. I was spending a lot of money on them lately and they were piling up. What was I going to do with all of them?

  Facing the empty slate, I smeared some paint on my hand and slapped at the canvas. I had no idea what was I doing, but it felt right. I added yellow and red and green and purple and black, all the colors I had. I used every single one. Paint splattered all over me, but I didn’t care. I just kept going until the entire surface was covered with angry prints, a lot of the colors muddied together.

  It wasn’t anything great, but I was breathing heavily and my chest felt a little less tight.

  “You get it out of your system?” a voice behind me said and I whirled around to find Mom lounging in my doorway, her arms crossed. “That was always the key for you when you were young and frustrated about something. Give you a piece of paper and some crayons or markers and you’d work it out.” I remembered. I remembered her giving me timeouts, but she always let me have paper and something to draw with during those timeouts. My mom understood all her children so well and tailored her parenting style for each of us.

  “Sort of,” I said, picking up a rag and wiping off my hands. I’d need to shower to get all of it, I was pretty much covered from head to toe. My clothes and shoes were a lost cause.

  “We didn’t tell you because we were handling it. It wasn’t important.” I almost threw the rag on the floor in anger.

  “Of course it’s important!” She gave me a level look. My fear melted.

  “I’m sorry. I just don’t like the idea that you’re hiding things from me while also having me run the store. I need to know what’s going on. I want to help.” Mom sighed and pushed off the door to come fully into the room. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually been in here. My parents respected our need for privacy. Unless we got into trouble and t
hen we were under the microscope.

  “I’m sorry. I just thought it was one more thing that you didn’t need on your shoulders. You’ve done so much and I didn’t want you taking on more than necessary. I wasn’t trying to exclude you, I promise.” That almost made me feel better.

  “And I think... I think it’s time that you cut back your hours at the store. You need to do your own thing. Falyn, Dasen and Callan have volunteered to take on more shifts.” I didn’t think “volunteered” was the right word in this case.

  Now I’d done it. I’d acted like a child and she was going to treat me like one. Fuck. “It’s fine, I can handle it,” I said.

  “Oh, baby,” she said, reaching out and touching my face. There was probably paint all over it. “I don’t want you to handle it. I want you to do things that make you happy. I want you not to regret your life when you look back on it. I want you to have goals and dreams and wants and desires.” I did. Sort of.

  No, I didn’t. I’d had them once, but they’d never felt right. Never felt like I could put them on and wear them comfortably. And when I’d come back and shucked them off, I hadn’t replaced them with anything. I’d just been living day-to-day. Not thinking about the future. About what I wanted.

  It didn’t matter. I was going to step up and run the store and that was good enough. That should be good enough.

  “This isn’t enough for you. It never has been,” she said, as if she’d been reading my mind. For all I knew, she could. Special Mom powers.

  “I want it to be,” I said and she gave me a sad smile.

  “Wanting doesn’t make something so. You need to think about what you want to do. Art, or something else. I will do whatever I can to support you. I want you to have what you want. That’s always been my goal for all of my children. I know I haven’t been perfect, but I hope you know that. That your happiness is number one and always will be.” There were tears in her eyes and I was a little choked up myself.

  “I’ll try,” I said and she patted my cheek.

  “That’s my boy.”

  Remi

  Brooks was introspective and quiet the next time I came over to bake.

  “You okay?” I asked and he looked up as if he’d forgotten I was there.

  “Oh, yeah. Just thinking.”

  “Be careful, don’t sprain anything,” I said, bumping him with my shoulder, but his forehead just stayed creased.

  “Okay, what is up with you, dude? You don’t have to tell me what it is, but at least tell me that there is something up.”

  He sighed and leaned on the counter and crossed his arms. They had flour all over them, but he didn’t seem to care. We spent our nights together covered in various baking detritus and I’d really let him go nuts with helping me tonight.

  Most nights, we could get the work done in about half the time and then we just talked and hung out so I didn’t have to go home. I was starting to think of this little kitchen with the poor ventilation and a concrete floor as “our” place. My home didn’t really feel like home anymore and it wasn’t like he had an apartment we could go to. This was our only other option.

  “Just... family stuff and money stuff. I don’t really want to talk about it. And my mom said some things.” He shook his head and I stopped working on my chocolate ganache and walked over to him.

  “Things about what?” I leaned next to him and mirrored his pose.

  “About running the store and about how I should be doing something I want to do instead of this.” He waved his hand around to indicate the store.

  “Yeah, well, she’s not wrong.” He frowned again.

  “I want this to be enough. I want to be content here. It would make things so much easier.” He groaned and put his face in his hands.

  “Yeah, I know all about that. I wish sometimes that I wanted to marry a local guy and have kids and go to softball games and all that. I may not know what I want, but I know it’s not that.” He raised his head and looked at me.

  “So we’re both in the same boat.” I shrugged and then he reached out and pulled me into a hug. I felt a kiss on the top of my head.

  “You’re my favorite thing about this town.”

  “You’re mine,” I said, loud enough for him to hear.

  “That’s good to know. That’s really good to know.” A sigh rumbled in his chest and I just let him hold me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been really hugged like this. I mean, by my dad, sure, but this was something else.

  Brooks and I hadn’t gotten carried away since the night I’d jumped him when he’d shown me his art. It had been a close thing, though. And right now I was feeling warm. Very warm. More so in certain areas of my body than others. Brooks’ fingers danced along my back and he started slowly rocking us side-to-side, as if we were dancing.

  I pulled back so I could put my chin on his chest and look up at him.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice low.

  Our lips met and it was deep and slow. I didn’t shove my tongue in his mouth this time. We kissed as if we had all the time in the world. As if we had forever.

  I gripped his shirt and then broke the kiss so I could slowly draw it off him. He let it fall to the flour-covered floor and then kissed me again. Brooks broke the kiss and looked at me before he picked me up and put me on the counter.

  “Oh,” I said as he stood between my legs and kissed me again. I ran my fingers up and down his chest, loving every dip and peak. My nails scraped his nipples and he groaned into my mouth. That sound sent shivers all over my body.

  My shirt soon joined his on the floor. I was sweating from the oven and from the kissing.

  Brooks stopped kissing me. “You’re beautiful.”

  I smiled and he went back to my mouth, his hands sliding all over my heated skin. I started working on his pants, but he grabbed my hands and stopped me.

  “No rush,” he said. “There’s no rush.” He reached back and pulled my hair out of my messy ponytail and it tumbled over my shoulders.

  He ran his fingers through it and then moved my bra straps so he could kiss my shoulders. I knew if I didn’t stop him NOW RIGHT NOW there would be no stopping.

  I didn’t stop him when he unhooked my bra and drew it off. I was working with a lot in the chest department, so taking the thing off was a huge relief. And then I caught the look on Brooks’ face.

  “Can I touch you?” he asked. The request was so sweet that I smiled.

  “Yes. You can.” He brushed his thumbs across my nipples and they hardened instantly. His mouth went back to mine as his hands worked over my breasts. I hooked my legs around him to pull him closer and I hooked my fingers in his jeans. I was gonna need him to get naked sooner rather than later.

  I forgot about his pants when he kissed his way down my face and neck, taking one of my nipples into his mouth. He bit down just enough to make me jerk against him. He lavished attention on it and then moved to the other one.

  “I swear, I could stare at you all day. You’re even better than I made up in my head.” The way he said it made me blush.

  “You’re something else, Remington Wright,” he said, smiling up at me.

  “Thank you,” I said breathlessly. “Now take your pants off.”

  He chuckled and pressed his head between my breasts.

  “Don’t suffocate,” I said and he lifted his smiling face.

  “You’re fantastic. And yes, I’ll take my pants off. I’ll do anything you want, Remi.” That sounded like it was a statement about more than just sex.

  “I want you to take your pants off,” I said, my throat a little dry. He straightened up and unzipped his pants, shoving them down his legs and then kicking them away, never looking away from me.

  I leaned back and looked at him in his black boxer briefs. I didn’t need any imagination to know what he had going on in there.

  “Now your turn,” he said and went for my zipper. I had to do a tricky little maneuver to get my jeans ov
er my hips and down my legs while still sitting on the counter. I thanked myself for having the presence of mind to wear nice underwear this morning and not something that was gross.

  Brooks looked up at me, asking a question.

  “Do you have a condom?” He winked.

  “Be right back.” When he walked out of the kitchen I realized he was going out to the main part of the store to grab a box.

  “Just put it on my tab,” I yelled out.

  “I got this,” he yelled back and then came back with the box of condoms in his hand.

  “Are you sure?” he asked me one more time and I just leaned forward and grabbed him to get him to kiss me again.

  Yes. I was sure. All of me was sure.

  Twelve

  Brooks

  She was so gorgeous naked, I didn’t even know where to look first. It was all good. Every inch of her. She bit her lip and watched me as I got on my knees, cushioning them on our discarded clothing while I kissed my way down her stomach. She lay back and nearly hit her head on a few spatulas. She had to move a few things aside so there was room.

  “This was way more romantic when we started,” she said, laughing a little. Then I licked her bellybutton and she stopped talking as a moan escaped her mouth. I was going to take my time with her.

  I made my way down her quivering skin and stopped just short of my final destination. All in good time. I was going to savor all of this.

  I lifted up one leg, licking and kissing my way over every inch before moving to the other. She lifted herself up so she could watch me. The fire in her eyes was spurring me as much as the little noises she made.

  I hooked her legs over my shoulders and looked at her one more time before kissing my way to where she’d wanted me in the first place.

  “Yes,” she hissed out as I licked her once.

  Sweet. Of course she was. So sweet.

  I went slowly. Taking my time. Barely teasing her. Little touches while she kept moving, trying to get me to go harder. But she’d have to wait. I was going to make this last.