by Janice Lynn
That it was his hands moving over her shoulders, down her arms, caressing her as if she were the most prized treasure.
His body that had leaned to hover just above hers.
Kissing her, he stared directly into her eyes. When his mouth lifted from hers, his breath came hard and fast against her lips. “I missed you, Brielle. So much.”
She didn’t answer, because what could she say? He’d been the one to leave, the one to be in the arms of another woman when she’d gone after him mere months later.
Memories of the last time she’d seen him, of his lips on the other woman’s, of how quickly he’d moved on, gave her the strength to push against his chest.
“Stop,” she ordered, wriggling to sit up on his sofa. “That wasn’t appropriate.”
He wiped his finger across his lips. Whether he was savoring their kiss or wiping it away, she wasn’t sure. “You were as curious as I was. Admit it.”
Curious? He had no idea.
“No.”
“Not admitting to the attraction between us doesn’t make it any less real,” he pointed out, with way too much logic when her head was spinning.
“Doesn’t matter.” Why could she still feel his kiss? Taste him? She didn’t want to remember. Didn’t want to have new memories of him. “None of this matters. There are others involved.”
His brows formed a V. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
Wondering if she’d said too much, she closed her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
“There is someone in your life?”
She took a deep breath, knowing the truth was the best policy even if she’d rather not admit it. “There is.”
He swore under his breath, seemed to consider his options and make a decision all in under ten seconds. His face serious, his expression pure dominant male in warrior mode, he met her gaze. “Then he is in for the fight of his life because I want what’s mine.”
Taken aback, she gulped. “What’s yours?”
“You. You’re mine, Brielle. You always have been. You always will be.”
“No.” She shook her head in denial. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not yours.” Needing movement, distance between them, she rose from the sofa, straightened her uniform. “I haven’t been from the moment you left me for Boston. Take me home.”
* * *
Ross drove in silence, trying to decipher what had happened between him and Brielle. Had he taken her to his apartment in the hope of luring her into his bed?
He certainly wanted her enough that subconsciously perhaps he had hoped the evening would end with her realizing how right the chemistry between them was. Either way, he’d failed miserably. One hot, explosive kiss that had filled his head with fantasies and she’d pushed him away, demanding to be driven home.
“You wanted that kiss as much as I did.”
“Do we have to talk about that again?” At his nod, she sighed as if needing lots of patience. “Fine. If your ego needs to believe that, you go right ahead and believe that I’ve done nothing but pine away for your kisses since you walked out.”
His ego wasn’t what needed to believe that she wanted his kisses. He daren’t name what body part needed to believe.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t the one she’d probably guess.
“What happened between us was a long time ago, Brielle. We were younger, still had a lot to learn about life. I had a lot to learn about life, about who I was and what I wanted out of a relationship. Don’t you think you owe it to us to let go of your anger at me for leaving?”
“Fine.”
Was that her favorite word these days or what?
“You’re right. What happened between us was a long time ago, best forgotten. We’ll just be professional colleagues, nothing more.”
If their discussion wasn’t so serious, he could laugh at that. “You and I can never be just professional colleagues. Our kiss was proof enough of that.”
“That kiss was a mistake.”
“Why? Because of this man you’re involved with?” His fingers gripped the steering-wheel tighter at the thought of another man touching Brielle, of another man kissing her lips or holding her affections. “Whatever is between you can’t be serious because no one at the hospital is aware he exists. I asked your friend Cindy if you were dating anyone. She said no. I asked Samantha, too, and she also denied that you were involved with anyone.” He paused, thinking of Vann’s girlfriend, whom he and Brielle had often double dated with during their heyday. “After she told me where I could go, of course.”
Brielle’s face pinched and she opened her mouth as if to say something then clamped her lips closed. “This is crazy. Why are you here? Why are you doing this after all this time? Just tell me and be done with it.”
He didn’t understand the strain to her voice. Yes, he’d ended their relationship, but it wasn’t as if he’d done her wrong. He hadn’t cheated or bad-mouthed her or abused her in any way that he knew of. When he’d moved out, he’d even paid the rent on their apartment for three months to give her time to find a new roommate to help with expenses.
“I told you I want you in my life,” he reminded her. “I’ve missed you.”
She clenched her hands in her lap, shook her head as if to shake his words away. “Once upon a time I’d have given anything to hear you say that.”
He didn’t miss her use of past tense. “But not any more?”
The skin pulled tight over her pale face. She shook her head again. “Surely you didn’t believe I’ve spent the last five years waiting for you to grow up?”
“My growing up wasn’t the issue.” Wanting to expand his learning experiences hadn’t been childish or immature. He’d been a man given an amazing opportunity and he’d taken it. Their relationship had been strained with her sudden desire to walk down the aisle and him knowing he wasn’t ready for that, not at that point in his career and life. “I know you’ve gone on with your life, just as I have. That doesn’t mean what is between us is finished. It’s not.”
After kissing her tonight, being swamped with all the old feelings but also new stronger emotions too, he was beginning to believe what was between Brielle and himself would never be finished.
“Don’t bring up this man you’re involved with,” he warned, before she could toss that in his face. “Because you don’t love him.”
Twisting in her car seat to stare more fully at him, her gaze narrowed to tiny slits. “How could you possibly know that I don’t love him?”
He pulled to a stop at a red traffic light then faced her, daring her to deny the truth of what he was about to say. “Because if you were in love with him you wouldn’t have kissed me. Not at all and certainly not with that passion.”
“You’re wrong,” she countered, her smile scaring him. “I love him more than I’ve ever loved any man, anyone. He’s my whole world.”
Truth echoed from each word she spoke.
Ross stared at her, unable to label the crushing sensation in his chest. Denial shot through him. Strong denial. “No, you don’t. Maybe you think you do, but you don’t. You’ve not changed that much. You wouldn’t kiss me if you were in love with another man. You aren’t the type of woman to do that.”
A need as potent as any as he’d ever felt hit him. A need to feel her lips against his, to reassure himself of exactly what he’d felt when he’d kissed her. No way had he imagined the emotion zapping back and forth between them when their bodies had touched.
That hadn’t been just physical. He’d felt...more.
He leaned forward, intent on reminding her of those emotions, but she put her hand up, shook her head.
“Don’t.”
“Scared?”
“Of you?” She laughed but without any humor. “You won’t hurt me, Ross. Not ever again, becau
se I won’t let you.”
Was that what she thought he wanted?
“I’m not here to hurt you.”
“I doubt you meant to hurt me last time either.”
Her barb stuck deep. “But I did hurt you.”
It wasn’t really a question, but she answered anyway, her expression holding steady except for the slightest quiver of her lower lip. He hated that he’d caused the pain that lay behind that quiver.
“What do you think?”
That he’d been an idiot to leave this woman when she’d loved him with all her heart and had made him happier than he recalled being at any other time during his life.
“I loved you, Ross.” Her voice was loaded with emotion. “And I believed you felt the same about me, that we would be spending the rest of our lives together. Of course it hurt when you left.”
She’d loved him. His ribcage clamped down around his lungs at her heartfelt admission. He’d known she had, had heard her say the words in the past, but that had been in the past. He hadn’t heard those words from her lips in five long years. She’d thought they were going to spend the rest of their lives together? She’d been ready for that then? In the midst of whatever relationship crisis they’d been going through she’d thought wedding bells would fix everything?
“Is that why you went crazy with bridal magazines and talking about getting married all the time?” he mused.
Shock dawned into realization in her golden-brown gaze. “That’s why you left? Because I started talking about getting married and you had cold feet because you weren’t in love with me and didn’t want to marry me?”
“Regardless of how we felt about each other, we weren’t ready for marriage.”
“You never said you loved me,” she reminded him, her voice catching. “Not a single time during the two years we were together did you ever say you loved me.”
She had him there. He hadn’t ever told any woman that he loved her, not even Brielle.
“They’re just words. Saying labels out loud doesn’t make emotions any more or less true.”
But hadn’t his own chest just done funny things at hearing her say the words, even in past tense?
“True.” She turned to stare through the windshield, her face blank, withdrawn. When she next spoke, she sounded more defeated than he recalled ever hearing her. “The light’s green. It’s been a long day. I’m tired. Just drive me back to my car, please.”
He did as she asked, drove them back to the restaurant in silence. He pulled into the vacant spot next to the place she’d pointed out where she’d parked her car. Funny, he hadn’t even known what kind of vehicle she drove these days. When had she traded in the sporty little hatchback she’d driven for the efficient but nice four-door sedan?
He turned off the ignition, faced her, knowing he couldn’t let things end where they had. “For the record, I cared more about you than any woman I’ve ever been involved with, Brielle.”
She closed her eyes again, as if praying for patience or shielding her emotions. She toyed with the keys she’d taken out of her scrub top pocket. “That’s nice, but it wasn’t enough. Not then and not now. Have a nice life, Ross.”
CHAPTER FOUR
ALTHOUGH PHYSICALLY, mentally, and emotionally exhausted from her workday and her ordeal with Ross, Brielle smiled at the image that greeted her when she stepped into her living room.
Toy building blocks were everywhere. In the midst of all the colorful blocks the two most important men in her life concentrated diligently on their efforts.
Justice added a block-bottomed flag to what appeared to be a bridge connecting two towering structures. He leaned back to survey his work.
“What do you think, Uncle Vann?”
The lean six-foot cardiologist, who was too serious for most of the world but who turned into a great big kid himself around his nephew, grinned and gave a thumbs-up. “Perfect touch, kiddo. Wish I’d thought of it myself.”
Brielle loved her brother. A better man had never existed. How his long-time girlfriend could constantly turn down his marriage proposals, Brielle didn’t begin to understand. She just hoped that whatever was holding Samantha back from grabbing hold of happily-ever-after with Vann would work out soon. Her brother deserved every happiness.
Then again, did anyone ever really get happily-ever-after outside fairy-tales?
Certainly no one in her life ever had.
“I see you two have been busy,” she said softly, causing both males to glance up from where they worked on the floor.
“Mommy!” Justice’s face lit up with excitement. He leapt to his feet and wrapped his tiny arms around her upper legs.
Heart swelling with joy and her eyes tearing just a little, she laughed and basked in her son’s love. Soon enough he’d outgrow showering his affections on her, but for now she was the center of his world. She cherished each moment of his precious life.
She dropped to her knees and hugged her son to her, kissing the top of his shiny blond head. “I missed you today!”
She always missed him when they were apart. She loved her job, but nothing compared to the time she spent with Justice. Their son looked so much like Ross. Seeing him only reinforced how much Justice favored him. Same eyes, same mouth, same smile, same ability to twist her heart into a million pieces.
“Come look at what Uncle Vann and I made. A whole kingdom.” Just as quickly as his attention had turned to her, his focus was once again on what he and his uncle had been building. He tugged on her hand and led her to where Vann sat on the floor. “This is my castle and this is Uncle Vann’s. Mine’s stronger and has a magic force field.”
“A magic force field, eh? I didn’t even know they made magic force field building blocks,” Brielle mused, checking out their handiwork.
“Obviously you’ve been buying your blocks at the wrong stores,” Vann promptly informed her with a wink. “I did inform him that my castle has more heart.”
“Just ’cos he’s a heart doctor,” Justice explained, eyeing his uncle’s castle critically. “My castle has lotsa heart, too, plus the magic force field.”
As he had been much of Brielle’s life, her brother had been a godsend where Justice was concerned. Could she have survived those first few months of Justice’s life, helplessly watching her tiny premature son fight for every breath, every milestone without her brother’s unwavering support and love?
“Obviously,” Brielle agreed, her gaze falling on the new toy packaging on her sofa. She smiled, more grateful to her brother than words could ever convey. “You’ll have to let me in on the secret to knowing which packages contain the magic blocks.”
Vann and Justice exchanged glances. “Think we should train her on the secret ancient methods of sensing special powers?”
Justice considered his uncle’s question a moment then nodded. “She is my mom, you know.”
“I know...” Vann ruffled Justice’s hair “...but she’s also a girl. Sometimes we guys have to stick together, you know, look out for one another when it comes to womenfolk.”
“Moms aren’t real girls, Uncle Vann,” Justice explained with a “duh” expression, taking Brielle’s hand and pointing out different aspects of their handiwork. “’Mantha isn’t a real girl either. She’s nice.”
“Nice. Right,” Vann said with a touch of sarcasm, making Brielle wonder if he and Samantha were arguing again. After fifteen years of dating, you’d think they’d have worked out the kinks by now, but perhaps some couples never worked out all the kinks.
Brielle sat down on the floor cross-legged and pulled her son into her lap, hugging his wiggling, giggling body close to her, breathing in the scent of his shampoo. Happiness filled her. Life was good. She didn’t need anything more. Not a relationship with Ross or whatever he’d come to Bean’s Creek to accomplis
h. She didn’t need anything he could give her.
Not anything beyond what he’d already unknowingly given.
A big twinge twisted her heart like a dishrag.
She couldn’t imagine not knowing her son, not being a part of his daily life, all the firsts, all the adventures, all the day-to-day miracles of watching him grow. Just the thought of not having experienced those things with her son made her chest ache.
Made her question long-ago decisions.
Never had she meant to keep Justice from Ross. She’d repeatedly tried to tell him once she’d realized he wasn’t going to jump on board with getting married. Silly, but she’d hoped he’d take her hints and sweep her off her feet without her telling him her birth control had failed. She’d wanted him to propose because it was what he wanted, because she was the woman he wanted to spend his life with, not because they were going to be parents.
Instead, he’d balked.
Still, she’d meant to tell him, would have told him had he not kept interrupting her, telling her that they were finished and he wanted nothing more to do with her, and had she not been so devastated by what she’d seen when she’d gone to Boston to finally tell him.
She closed her eyes, breathed Justice in again, and reminded herself that she’d only given Ross exactly what he’d told her he wanted. She’d left him alone, let him live his life the way he wanted, and she hadn’t interfered with his dreams.
When she opened her eyes, her gaze met her brother’s. Something about how he watched her struck Brielle as odd. She couldn’t quite label the expression on his face, just knew something was going on in that brilliant mind of his besides which plastic block castle was his and which one was Justice’s.
Then again, they hadn’t had a chance to talk about Ross’s appearance. Vann had texted her the day before to tell her he’d pick Justice up from preschool so he could spend some time with his nephew and that he’d see her when she got home.
“Thanks for staying late,” she told him. “Sorry I called so last minute to make sure it was okay.”
“No problem. There’s leftover pizza in the kitchen,” her brother told her, watching her with an intensity she imagined he used while assessing his patients.
