"Where were you born?" She slid down onto the pillows and turned on her side, tucking her hands under her cheek as he rolled to face her, head propped on his hand.
The next few hours sped by for Brand in both asking and answering questions that became more personal the longer they spoke. As the inquiries got deeper, more private, their bodies drew closer with the need to touch and be touched.
She played with his fingers when he described his earliest years and his family, making her laugh with his stories of the scrapes he got into due to his younger self's curiosity. And of how he'd more than earned the nickname of 'Bayco'.
His fingers stroked and combed through her hair when she spoke warmly and with love of her mother as his heart bled for their suffering at the hands of the weak, insecure men who found their manhood in the subjugation of women.
Reese was nestled on his chest, her forehead to his neck and his arms tightly holding her in place and quiet was between them, when he knew it was time to talk about the elephant in the room.
"Do you want to know of her, my Reese?" he said low and slow into the silence.
"Who?"
"My Nadia?"
She shifted before tilting her face up to his. "Can you talk about her without yelling?"
He grinned down into her questioning eyes.
"I think so," he murmured.
Chapter Seventeen
"I met her father when Niko, Atin and I were at a resettlement camp after we were transferred to the United States," he began. "He held a very high position and was on the committee of AmCroSer, which controlled the influx of immigrants from my country, those who wanted to come to America."
"You mean like with visas and stuff?" I asked. I didn't know much about immigration other than what I saw on TV in the 'Battle for the Border' as the newscasters called it. With a large portion of Texas touching Mexico, there was always something in the news about immigration.
"Yes. For whatever reason, Mr. Stankovic took a special interest in me and my brothers,” Bay’s voice continued. I could hear it rumbling underneath the ear I had pressed to his chest. His fingers were slowly making circles, catching on the t-shirt material covering my back.
"You have more brothers?"
"You have not met Niko yet. But they are not my brothers by blood. Niko, Atin and I met when we were very young and in our first camp," he explained. "It was an honor for such a man, such a successful man, to show an interest in us. When we were old enough, he had Atin and I transferred to a boarding school in Maryland so we could be closer to D.C. where he worked and lived."
"Washington D.C.?" His voice had wound down and I wanted, no needed, him to keep going. To get to the Nadia part.
"Correct. He would come to see us, to take us out for the day about once a month but by the time we were sixteen, we would take the train to his house to spend the day. It was one such time that Atin and I were introduced to Nadia." Bay's voice had dropped both in pitch and in volume.
"Where was Niko? Didn't he go with you?"
I felt him shift, re-crossing his ankles at my question.
"Niko had been adopted right after we were first introduced to Nadia's father," he answered.
"So, when you first met her, was it love at first sight?"
"Uhm, no, I would not call it that," he said with a chuckle. "She was very beautiful and very poised, especially for one as young as we were. But she was very much out of my league. What I remember of that day was feeling very awkward, stupidly clumsy and extremely horny."
I couldn't help my sharp bark of laughter at his words and got a squeeze in reply.
"I did not think I had made a very good impression on her and thought her interest had been in Atin since she had spent most of that time talking with him. So I was surprised when her father called and asked me to escort her to one of her school dances," he continued.
"Her dad asked you out?" I had no idea if that was just the way they did things in his culture, but I'd never heard of such a thing before.
"It was a boy-girl dance and I believe Mr. Stankovic wanted to control the situation. To have her attend with a boy he knew, rather than the possible devil he did not," Bay explained. "Soon, I was her date for a number of outings, parties that she and her father attended and school events."
"So you guys fell in love slowly," I murmured with a delicious shiver. My mind was picturing a younger Bay learning to love a beautiful young woman as they went to glittering parties in fancy clothes and eating expensive finger food.
I felt him shrug.
"And fell so deep that your heart still yearns for her even after all these years. That's awesomely romantic." I tilted my face up again to find him looking at me. And I was confused by his lack of expression. I don't know what I'd expected to see. Sorrow maybe? Or a soft smile at the memory of the woman he still held in his heart?
I was unsure, but from what he'd saidn I hadn't heard him declare his undying love for Nadia. Not his words, in his tone of voice or with his body. I put my head back down.
"Bay?" I started, trying to find the right way to say what I wanted to ask next. When it came to this subject, the responses from both him and Vana had been so extreme. I didn't want to set him off again. Especially since he was really relaxed, and I didn't want it to be me who destroyed that vibe. "How did she die?"
"A car bomb exploded her father's car," he replied, his voice flat and emotionless. As empty as the face I'd seen earlier.
"Do they know who did it?" I tilted my head up again to see his face since his tone gave none of his emotions away. That lack of feeling was starting to make me uncomfortable.
"Her father had been receiving threats for denying entrance visas." He cleared his throat and looked down at me as he continued. "The men looking for you work for one of the people Mr. Stankovic did not want to allow into the U.S."
"Milosevics?" My voice was a squeak with my question.
"It was never proven, but it had all the signs of how the Milosevics deal with their enemies."
I just stared at him, my mind finally catching up. Blowing up his girlfriend's father's car with her in it might make Brand want to learn more about the people who'd done the deed.
"Did they ever find who did it? I mean, somebody must have been charged with the two murders," I hedged, hoping that for Nadia and her dad justice had prevailed.
"Three murders," Bay murmured. "Nadia was pregnant with my child."
Everything within me stilled. Two and two were starting to make four as I put the pieces together. To a young man without a family, in a strange country, having a girlfriend of someone successful from the old place would be a big deal.
To knock her up and start your own family would be huge.
"We were to be married before she announced her pregnancy to avoid embarrassment within our community." His voice was now a rough whisper.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Bay," knowing my words, though sincerely said, couldn't help him with his pain or memories.
"It happened a long time ago," I heard him say.
"Yeah, but I'm still sorry it still hurts." I felt him shift again and gained another squeeze of his arm whether because he was moving or because of my words. He changed our positions until we were covered by the sheet.
"Are you sleepy, my Reese?" he asked after we'd settled, my back to his front.
"Kind of," I admitted. Which wasn't exactly true because my mind was still going eighty miles an hour with what he'd told me. I felt him reach behind us as he turned the light out. When he turned back to cuddle me, his hand shifted my hair to the side and his lips hit the side of my neck in a soft, short kiss.
"Brand?" I whispered into the dark, trying out his name. It felt good in my mouth. "Do you think you'll ever fall in love again?"
There was a long pause, long enough to make me wonder if he'd gone to sleep.
"I do not know if I can love at all," I heard from over my shoulder and for some reason, his words hurt me around the same spot in my hear
t as hearing him calling Nadia's name in our moment of passion.
But the hurt I felt was for him, not myself.
I turned myself slowly so that we were face to face, even though I couldn't see him in the night of our room. Feeling his breath on my cheeks, I used my hands to find his shoulders and pushed up until my mouth was on his forehead. I planted a soft kiss on the furrows which released as I lifted away.
My lips found his eyes and dropped a peck on each, wondering at the moisture I felt there. I tilted my chin and gently placed a kiss on each cheek, feeling his skin's sharp stubble as it rasped. Scooting down, I finally pressed my mouth to his, gently at first, then applying pressure as I angled my head, allowing the tip of my tongue to trace the seam of his lips.
Brand kept his lips sealed together, but I could feel a stirring against my thigh.
I broke away and lifted the t-shirt over my head before shifting back to him. As I pressed my naked body back to his, my breasts thrilling at the feel of his muscled chest against my sensitive, hard peaks, I entwined his neck with my arms.
Without a word, his mouth sought mine, only this time his lips were open, soft and hot. He pulled me to him with a groan.
This time, in this coming together, things were slow and sweet. Drawn out caresses and tender kisses on any skin available.
We both did exactly as we said we would.
I was an active participant.
He watched his words.
And it was indescribably beautiful.
Chapter Eighteen
He looked at himself in the mirror as he dragged the disposable razor through the shaving cream, exposing another line of smooth skin. The smile hidden by the contortions of his face as he shaved was definitely reflected in his eyes.
All because of what his little draga had initiated last night. He'd given her his memories and she'd given him comfort. And in such a way that his body still echoed with it the following morning.
The morning they were to be married.
"Shit!" he heard loudly from the other room, and he took two steps to the doorway to see her standing at the end of the bed, the contents of her backpack spread out over the bed.
"Trouble, my Reese?"
She was in her bra and panties, that glorious ass rounded underneath the stretch lace that encased it, holding her sundress up to her chest. "I can't get married like this!" she exclaimed and turned her eyes to his.
"Like what?"
"I have nothing to wear," came her groan and she twirled before plopping her ass on the end of the mattress, still clutching the first thing he'd seen her wear as a partial covering. "I don't want to get married as a biker chick."
His eyes were heated as he took in her appearance. "I will always remember what you looked like in that sundress and hat by the side of that lonely road in Kansas."
He watched as she closed her eyes at his words.
"I remember that too," she murmured. "The way you looked crossing that hot piece of asphalt, unsnapping your jacket and takin' off your helmet. It was… it was like my first glimpse of heaven on legs."
Shocked, Brand's heart stuttered at her words, the awe he heard in her voice. He tried to think of something to say, some way to respond, but his mind was stunned. He reached for a towel to wipe the excess suds off his face and stepped back to where she still sat.
"We will get you a dress if that is what you want."
She raised her brown eyes to his, and he saw her vulnerability nakedly exposed in her expression.
"Let's remember why we are doing this, my beauty."
"To protect me from Louie," she admitted with a sigh. "He wants a virgin to give him a son."
"Correct." Brand nodded and leaned, pressing his fists on either side of her hips as he pressed his forehead to hers. "He cannot marry someone who is already married."
"How much does that make you his target instead of me?" she asked, lifting her chin and staring into his eyes. He felt his cock begin to lengthen as they pierced his, and he dropped his gaze to her full mouth.
"A lot, perhaps," he admitted after a couple of beats, but his mind was not on whatever Deschames would come up with as his little piss-ant way of punishment. "I can handle Deschames, my Reese." He straightened and moved his hands to her shoulders, watching as her face followed him, her neck fully exposed and calling to him to lick and kiss it in a way that would make her moan so sweetly for him. "What I cannot handle is you getting upset over clothing."
Her eyes shot to the side and he saw a flush move over her cheekbones. He loved every shade of pink her skin held, whether it was with the blush that spread over her cheeks or her nipples, her…
"Guess I'm makin' a mountain out of a molehill, huh?" She sounded sheepish as she pressed her face into his bare belly. His hands moved to hold her head in place before gliding through her hair.
He cupped her cheek and brought her face back up to his as he again leaned down. "We will get you a dress if that is what you want," he assured her again before pressing his mouth to hers. "And, tonight, we will be sleeping in our bed, in our cabin with all of this behind us."
"I like the sound of that," she said back, her lips moving against his as she spoke.
"Good," he announced with a smile, and he opened his eyes to see hers smiling back into his.
As he made his way back to the bathroom, he wondered why she was worried about getting married in biker clothes if this was only the temporary arrangement she'd negotiated for the night before.
His reflection in the mirror was now smiling fully.
*.*.*.*.*
The feel of Reese's hands on his stomach was comforting as was the heavy feel of the band on the finger of his left hand. He glanced at it again, his eyes drawn to the gleaming circle of silver, catching the light as they traveled towards Missoula.
Married.
The service had taken less than ten minutes in the judge's chamber. In fact, having the older, white-haired official saying the words over them had taken less time than it had for Atin to provide a certified copy of Reese's birth certificate. Something he hadn't known was needed until they'd applied for their marriage license.
A license to be married.
Which had, after Reese had gotten over her pique at having nothing to get married in, been the only complication to complete his plan.
His mind refused to remember the promises the two of them had made. Of the pledges exchanged which had included words like love, honor and until death. Words which skidded across his heart and had branded themselves across the vulnerable parts.
"How are you doing, Mrs. Jovanovic?" he asked through the microphone in the helmet.
"Doing good, husband," came the immediate reply, and he felt her small hands flex on his jacket. "How much further?"
"An hour, maybe more," he replied back. The peaceful feeling was still there within him and he couldn't explain it, didn't want to examine it. Maybe it was simply that he was getting close to home, or the place that felt like home to him, anyway.
Or perhaps it is the feel of her plastered against your back. Snugged up against you that makes you feel so…right, a corner of his mind corrected.
For whatever reason, the morning had found his mind filled with thoughts of the girl holding him so tight instead of the gravesite pledge to a woman who was lost to him. A person just as damaged as he was, who had completed the younger version of himself. A woman who'd carried the beginnings of the family his heart craved so desperately and gave him hope for his future, their future.
He heard the words he'd used the night before to explain about Nadia and felt his face crease again into a scowl. He wasn't lying but somehow the words he'd used didn't sound like the truth, the full truth. In fact, now that he thought about it, what he had shared with Nadia hadn't sounded like two people becoming a romantic couple, although at the time it had felt like it. Viewed from a much different place in his life, what he'd had with Nadia had held many more layers than what was growing with Reese.
From the place they'd come from, all the death and destruction they'd known as children, romance had not been something either one of them seemed to need. Other wants were more important: to value and be valued by, to protect and be protected, to allow themselves to enjoy and treasure one another without the fear of it being taken away. Romance, in light of their heart's deeper requirements, wasn't necessary. Their feelings for one another, even without that ardor, had been deep and connected enough to soothe the damaged portions of their hearts.
Looking back, Brand saw how serious he and Nadia had been even with the feelings that had between them. They had spent hours discussing and planning their future together: where they would live, how many children they would have, what kind of jobs they would have to support their family. But the frivolous words of love, the gestures of passion had not played a part in their relationship.
He wondered now if that would've changed over their years together if she'd lived, if they'd been able to have the future they'd planned so carefully. Would Nadia have ever accepted his need to give and receive physical affection? Perhaps come to enjoy it for herself?
She had been her father's diplomatic daughter. Socially adept, willing to move through the mine fields of political situations, but as a love partner? No.
He hated to admit it if only to himself, but it was as if she tolerated him in the infrequent times they were alone.
Brand took a moment to explore this thought as he compared it to the beauty that was pressed and holding him with her arms and thighs. As for the other…
He wondered why it hadn't occurred to him before that Nadia only allowed him to use her body and never found her own satisfaction in their infrequent joining. She'd only withstood him and his clumsy pawings when his need, his arousal became too much for him to contain.
Hiding in Plain Sight Page 15
