“You’re always there for me, aren’t you, Thorne?”
He gazed into the fire. “Uh huh. Always will be.”
She sighed, and they sat there for a moment, at peace. “Where did you learn to train horses?”
He blinked. That was random—although she had been thrown by one of his horses …
He shrugged. “I’ve always liked horses,” he told her. “For the last few years I’ve been spending most of my weekends riding at a ranch just outside of L.A. I guess it’s just something you pick up, over time.”
“Well, you’re really good at it.”
“My horse just threw you,” he said dryly, “I think I might still need to work on it.”
She exhaled. “Well, it’s not the first time I’ve fallen off a horse, I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
He started to smile as something flickered in his memory. “That’s right. You interrupted a wedding by riding in on a horse.” He chuckled.
“Oh, I remember that. Gosh, I was sore that day.”
Thorne started to laugh in earnest. “I still can’t believe you did that. You should have seen the look on my mother’s face.”
“Oh, I did. I saw the look on Taylor’s face, too.”
“Well, you were stopping her from marrying Ridge,” he pointed out. “You always went to so much effort for him.” He loved his brother, and yes, he envied him, but he wasn’t blind to his faults. He thought Ridge had taken a lot for granted with Brooke over the years, and had put her through hell.
But he didn’t want to talk about Ridge. “Perhaps it was seeing you ride into the cottage on that great beast that inspired my interest in horses.” He knew his words were uttered lightly, but underneath the joking there was a kernel of truth. For a time, Brooke had been very keen on horses, and her interest had fed his—because she liked them, he wanted to find out more about them.
“You kept it well hidden,” she said. “I know you’ve liked skiing, and surfing, and I vaguely remember you mentioning the horse-riding, but I didn’t realize you were so keen on it.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m hooked.”
He shouldn’t be disappointed by her late curiosity. He had mentioned it at work, but most of the time his words were often lost in whatever bickering was going on between Ridge and Rick. Even his father hadn’t taken his interest seriously, believing it was just a phase he was going through.
Who read cattle rotation and horse breeding periodicals as a phase?
Brooke shifted to look up at him, and he tilted his head to the side to meet her gaze. “You’re really not coming back to Forrester Creations, are you?” she said, a tinge of sadness in her eyes.
He shook his head. “I’m really not.”
She looked at a button on his shirt. “I think everyone else believes you’ll be back in a while.” Her voice was quiet.
“I know.”
“That’s what I thought. Your brother left, but he eventually returned. I guess I thought you would, too.”
He stared at her, his jaw tight as he tried to fight the sudden surge of anger that rose inside at her words. “Please stop comparing me to my brother.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, then dismay. “No, I—I didn’t mean—”
He nodded. “I know. Nobody ever means to, it’s just something they do naturally.” He lifted his gaze to the fire, watching the flames lick at the wood. “You and your sisters—you’re all so different, with different careers. Sure, Donna works at Forrester Creations, too, but nobody ever tars her with your brush. None of you are competing for the same role at the company. You’ve all got different talents, and you want different things—well, except for men. You seem to share similar tastes in the opposite sex.” He could relate to that—he and his brother had also shared an attraction for the same woman. Repeatedly.
He sighed as the old wounds opened again, feeling just as raw and painful as the day his father had chosen Ridge to fill the president’s position at Forrester Creations—the first time. “I know people think this is a phase, some sort of frivolous fad the rich boy has been distracted with. I know people think I’ll snap out of it and come back to the company, hat in hand.” He momentarily lifted his hands to indicate beyond the glow of the fire. “Why would I? There is nothing for me there.”
“Don’t say that, Thorne.”
“Why not? It’s true.” He sighed. “My younger half-brother is president, but doesn’t have the range or depth of experience I have for running a company like Forrester Creations—and I know he’s your son, Brooke, I’m just stating a fact. I’ve worked in the fashion industry for most of my life, and that’s more runs on the board than Rick. Ridge—well, Ridge can’t seem to do any wrong. He can leave for Europe, return after an eighteen-month absence, and be appointed as vice president. I can work—and have worked—diligently and loyally, and my father continually chooses one of my brothers over me.” He winced. That sounded like a whine.
“I’m so sorry, Thorne,” she whispered, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
“No, don’t be sorry, Brooke—I’m just stating things the way I see them.” He opened his eyes and stared into the fire. “Maya Angelou once said if you don’t like a situation, change the situation. If you can’t change the situation, change your attitude. So I’ve tried both, and I think I’ve found something that I can be really happy with. I tried to change things at Forrester Creations, but I couldn’t get Dad to see me differently—not the way I wanted him to see me, anyway. Then I tried to just accept things as they are; I worked hard in the operations area, with transport and logistics, and I must say, I was happy for a while. Now I’ve changed my situation and my attitude, and it’s working for me. I’ve found something that I’m really good at, and I want to keep doing it.”
His remark was met with momentary silence, and his gaze dropped to meet Brooke’s. She wore a surprised expression.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you’re quoting Maya Angelou.”
He chuckled. “Oh, there are so many things you don’t know about me,” he said, grinning.
“I’m beginning to realize that,” she said, her gaze growing dark with appreciation. Ah, if wishes were horses …
“How do you always do that?”
He frowned in confusion. “Do what?”
“You always turn things into a positive—I know, I know,” she said, waving her hand. “Think positively—”
“And rise above adversity,” he finished for her.
“That’s exactly what I mean,” she cried. “Do you remember when you proposed to Macy?”
He rolled his eyes and cringed. “God, how could I forget? I had planned it down to the last detail—”
“Except for the part where the waiter delivered the plate of oysters with your hidden ring to the wrong table,” she said, beginning to laugh.
“And then the guy started to choke and I had to perform the Heimlich maneuver,” Thorne said, gasping with laughter, “and then he spat out the ring.”
Brooke broke into peals of laughter, and it took them a while to catch their breath. His smile slipped. “Yeah, I remember. Macy didn’t accept my proposal that night.”
“I know. I remember coming over to your place to talk about my problems with Rick at the time, and you—you had organized this special, romantic evening, and the woman you’d proposed to hadn’t said yes.”
“I remember.” That was the first time they’d kissed. He didn’t think she’d remember that moment. “We went skinny-dipping.” Everything was so casual, so comfortable, then they’d locked gazes, and suddenly they were kissing passionately on his sun lounge. Hell, yeah, he remembered.
“You showed me a different way to look at things, like seeing something for the first time.”
He nodded. It was a philosophy he tried to live by. Some days it took a little more work than others.
She raised herself up a little, and he helped her. “I feel like that with you.”
His b
reath hitched at the look in her eyes, the curiosity, the unmistakable attraction.
“You do?”
She nodded. “I think the separation from Forrester Creations was exactly what I needed. The distance has given me some perspective to work on what’s important to me.”
“You mean your line …”
She nodded again. “Yes,” she said slowly. “That’s one thing. When I proposed it, and it wasn’t immediately accepted, I think I was thrown a little. There were so many things it seemed I was suddenly not good at anymore.”
A muscle in his jaw tightened at the vulnerability in her words, in her tone. “You do amazing work,” he told her. “You should be proud of the processes you’re setting up for your Glamazon line.” He leaned back, eyeing her. “See, you don’t need me to help you. You don’t need anyone to help you. You are fully capable of succeeding on your own.”
“But you did help me. You put me in contact with the right people—”
He rolled his eyes. “I saved you some time. You would have found them, trust me. And look what you’ve achieved. You’ve even now managed to get Ridge to work with you, instead of against you. That was all you, not me.”
He leaned forward. “You’re an amazing woman, Brooke, and I know my brother has hurt you, but you’ve got to stop taking the blame for his actions. He left you pretty much at the altar—again—then got the sulks when you moved on. He shouldn’t have a say in who you’re with when you’re not with him. You’ve let him take so much from you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as his gaze roamed over her face.
“You’re right,” she said softly, and he froze.
Well, yes, he was right, he just wasn’t expecting her to agree with him. She always made allowances for Ridge. His eyes narrowed. “Did you hit your head in the fall, by any chance?”
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “No, I didn’t.” She took a deep breath. “I think I blinded myself to a lot of the reality of my relationship with Ridge. I think I focused on what I lost, and not what I actually had.” She paused. “You helped me see that.”
Thorne was silent for a moment, digesting her comments. So he’d succeeded in getting her to view things concerning Ridge with some balance. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said honestly.
“We’ve always been such good friends, haven’t we?”
He frowned. Friends. He met her gaze intently. “I want to be so much more, Brooke,” he said softly, his hand cupping her chin. “If you’d just let go …”
Brooke stretched up. “I’ll let go if you will,” she whispered.
Thorne pressed his lips against hers, groaning when she opened her mouth willingly to his kiss.
Chapter Ten
Brooke closed her eyes as Thorne kissed her deeply, passionately. His tongue slid against hers, and her heart thudded at the desire that seemed to unfold with the merest touch of his lips against hers. His hand moved down the front of her shirt to rest against her breast as his arm tightened around her, pulling her closer.
They kissed for long moments, their tongues tangling, panting as passion flared hotly between them.
Thorne’s lips left hers to blaze a trail down to her collar. She trembled, tilting her head back as, one by one, he flicked the buttons of her shirt open. Her breasts swelled in their bra as he peeled her shirt back.
“God, you are so beautiful,” Thorne whispered as he stared down at the flesh he’d revealed.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she murmured as she pulled his shirt from the waistband of his jeans. He didn’t give her time to seductively undo the buttons. Instead, he pulled at the fabric, buttons popping as he tore the shirt open, shrugging out of it. The golden light of the fire outlined his pectoral muscles and bulging biceps that bunched when he reached for her. He hesitated.
“What?” she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his throat.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered back, shifting his weight over her.
She placed a hand against his jaw. “You won’t, Thorne. I want this. I love you.”
He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them they’d turned so dark with arousal. “I meant your foot,” he murmured, dipping his head close to hers. “But I love you, too.”
He took her lips in a blazing kiss, not giving her a chance to respond. His hands trailed down her body, sending shards of sensation to gather at her core. His hand unfastened her belt, and she helped him with her button and fly. He kissed his way down her body, and she moaned as he dragged her jeans down her legs, gently removing them, careful of her ankle.
He sat back on his heels, his face tight with need as he gazed down at her. His expression was still as he rose slowly to his feet.
She bit her lip. They had been with each other before, they’d been married, but this—this was all so new. She had a deeper understanding of this man than she’d ever had, and she’d shared things with him she’d shared with no other.
His eyes on hers, he slowly unbuckled his belt and drew his fly over his erection. Her heart pounded in her chest as a mild breeze brushed over her heated skin, as though he commanded nature to arouse her to fever pitch.
He slid the garment over his hips, toeing his boots off as he discarded his jeans.
Brooke’s mouth dried. Working on a ranch agreed with him. Muscles roped his torso and arms, and the firelight cast dancing shadows over his form, to highlight and conceal in a provocative game of hide and seek. She reached for him, her hands gliding over his muscles and down his ridged abdomen, delighting in the strength at her fingertips.
He dropped to his knees and prowled over her, reaching up to peel the strap of her bra off her shoulder. She reached around and unsnapped her bra, ignoring the faint twinge in her shoulder as he slid the garment off her, using the silk and lace to caress her body. She shivered, her teeth digging in to her bottom lip as he dragged the rest of her clothes off her body.
His hand cupped her breast as he lowered his head to kiss her, and his heated body covered hers. She wrapped her arms around him as she gave herself up to his kiss, revelling in the skin-to-skin contact. He teased her, he tormented her, expertly using the secrets of her body against her, making her weak with lust, driving her need to dizzying heights, drawing pleasure from her body over and over again until he acquiesced to her heated cries and made love to her under the stars.
*
Later, when the fire had almost died, Thorne rose to add some more fuel. The breeze touched his body, and he turned to look at the beautiful woman who watched his movements.
He smiled and crept back to her, raising the blanket to cover them both as they settled themselves again. She entwined her hand with his, and he looked down, seeing her delicate strength wrapped inside his solid clasp.
“I meant what I said,” she told him.
His breath quietened. “What was that?” He’d learned long ago never to trust words uttered in the height of passion, no matter how honest he was with his own.
“I love you,” she whispered into the darkness.
He closed his eyes, and his heart felt like it was singing the “Hallelujah” chorus. He had to grapple with his control, prevent himself from feeling too much, too soon.
“I love you too,” he responded quietly. “But I also understand your heart lies with Ridge.”
Now his heart was beating a melancholic funeral dirge as he had to force himself to accept the truth of his words.
Brooke frowned and twisted to face him. “Your heart isn’t wholly mine, either,” she protested.
He frowned. “Of course it is, it always has been.”
She smiled and shook her head, her tangled blond hair tumbling over her shoulder. “You have a daughter, Thorne, a beautiful daughter who is the best of you and your beloved Darla,” she said softly. “I understand that there will always be a part of your heart dedicated to Darla. You think competing with Ridge is a problem? Try wrestling with a beautiful ghost.”
His shoulders sagge
d. Darla. His beautiful wife cut down in her prime. “I guess you’re right, Brooke.” He’d never considered his feelings and his memories for the mother of his child in the same way he viewed Ridge’s hold on Brooke, but maybe he should. “The mother of my daughter holds a dear spot in my heart.” He raised her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. “But there is room for you there, too,” he said.
“That’s what it’s like for Ridge,” she told him. “He is the father of my son. We’ve shared too many memories, too many experiences for there not to be any emotions attached. But I’ve grieved him here. What we had we will never have again. I understand that, and I accept that.” She took a deep breath. “When you and I were married before, things were different. I was different.”
He nodded. “I’m not the same man I was then.” He threaded his other hand through her blond locks. “I won’t be my brother’s substitute,” he said as he tugged her closer.
“No,” she murmured against his lips. “You’re the real deal.” The desire, the love he read in her eyes, reassured him. She saw him differently, just as he knew she was a different woman from all those years ago. Hell, she was different to the golden woman he’d found waiting for him on his front porch all those days ago. He took her mouth firmly, determined to show her the real him, and promptly forgot about Ridge, forgot about Darla, as he made fierce love to the woman he held in his arms, here and now.
*
The next morning they made slow progress back to the ranch. Major located them about halfway home, and settled into a trot alongside them. Thorne walked as much as he could, in order to save Buck. He was watching where he put his feet, not wanting to have two injured people for the doctor to come out and visit, when they crested the last rise before the homestead.
Brooke’s gasp brought his head up, and his eyes narrowed at the black sedan sitting in the drive.
Three men stood on the porch, and he had no problems identifying Eric, Ridge and Rick Forrester.
“Something’s happened,” Brooke said, anxiety in her voice.
Thorne lifted his chin. Well, he’d expected reality to intrude on the idyllic days he’d shared with Brooke at some time. He had hoped to have a little longer, though.
Sunset Love: The Bold and the Beautiful Page 11
