Ninety-Eight (Contemporary Romance)

by Shannon Mayer

  “Pretty deep question for someone so young.” Micah turned his face to me, enough that I could see his eyebrows were raised high. “But to answer it, yes. I don’t think love is ever wrong, even if it hurts, even if it scares you. You learn from it, become a better person, use what you’ve learned for the next time around.”

  Shocked, I spoke without thinking. “And you thought I was being deep?”

  He smiled over at me, a soft smile that lit up his aquamarine eyes, the dark slashes of his eyebrows highlighting the unusual color. “I can philosophicalize with the best of them.”

  “A cowboy philosopher?”

  Laughing, he turned off the highway. “Something like that. My clients like it when I say something that seems deep. Like: A horse’s heart beats in time with yours when you finally feel their truth and in that moment you can work as a team, one unit instead of two separate beings. Then, and only then, will you know what it is to fly without wings.”

  My mouth dropped open, little chills dancing along my spine. “That was actually pretty impressive. Do you believe it?”

  “Promise not to tell anyone?”

  I crossed my heart, feeling a bit lightheaded staring at his jawline. “Promise.”

  His smile slipped, his eyes sobered. “Yes, I believe it, though I would never have wrapped it up in pretty words like that.”

  Celia and Frank’s house came into view and he gave a low whistle. “Nice digs.”

  I snorted. “Don’t get all excited. I think they’re about to officially disown me. So I still need you to pay me.”

  Micah smiled. “I’ll be here at eight tomorrow. We have a full day.” He reached out and I took his hand to shake it. Again, the electricity seemed to pass from him to me and back again and we snatched our hands back at the same time.

  “Eight, I’ll be ready,” I said, then swallowed hard, unable to unlock my eyes from his.

  “Eight.”

  I smiled. “That’s what you said.”

  “Right.” He smiled back at me, kind of a goofy grin like someone who just realized he was repeating himself. “See you tomorrow.”

  Ducking my head, I nodded and slid out of the truck, closing the door behind me.

  I stood at the edge of the driveway, watched him pull away, the billow of dust following his truck.

  “Micah Kingsley, you are a dangerous man,” I whispered, turned, and headed into the lion’s den. If I’d only understood then just how true those words were.

  Celia and Frank acted like I wasn’t even there. So I went up to my old room and threw myself into bed, without even showering. Exhausted from the jet lag and the long day with Micah, I’d hoped my sleep would be dreamless. Though after eighteen months of dreaming of Darwin dying, of him slipping through my fingers, I don’t know what made me think that night would be different.

  I closed my eyes; fell asleep within seconds. And there in front of me stood Darwin, but for the first time, he wasn’t bloodied, wasn’t pinned beneath the truck, he didn’t scream my name as he died.

  “Darwin,” I breathed his name, reached for him and he caught me in his arms, pulled me against his chest and I could feel him, really feel him as if he were there.

  “Brielle, I’ve been waiting for you to come home,” he whispered into my hair. “You stayed away a long time.”

  Tears slipped down my cheeks. “It hurt too much, I couldn’t come back.”

  His fingers slid around my jaw, tipped my face up to his. “I’m here. I’ve been here all along. Don’t run from me, not this time.”

  “I love you, Darwin, how can I move on when you aren’t with me?” I held him tight, as if by the strength of my love I could bring him back.

  “We’ll be together one day. I can promise you that, Brielle. You’re the only one for me, and I will wait a thousand years if that’s what it takes.” His lips brushed along mine and I struggled to stay with him as the dream faded, wounds I’d thought were healing ripped wide open, bleeding me out from the inside. The light coming in through my window told me that it was a good amount of time before dawn.

  With a groan, I rolled onto my side to read my alarm clock. Five in the morning. I knew from past experience there would be no going back to sleep. Scrubbing my eyes, I stood and stretched, feeling the vertebrae pop along my spine. The smell of coffee trickled under my door. At least I knew some things would never change. Frank would already be up, going over the stock markets, trading and selling, making money.

  I showered, changed into my last pair of clean jeans and headed downstairs. Frank wouldn’t look me in the eye, acted as if I weren’t even there. The cold shoulder treatment wasn’t new. I mean, it was the first time he’d used it on me, but I’d seen him use it on other people. Usually, Frank gave me the full-on nasty side of him when we were alone. Thank God that wasn’t often. That didn’t mean I was going to put up with any of his bad treatment anymore.

  “Did Nana approve of you and Celia, when you said you were getting married?”

  He froze, slowly lowered his cup. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Curious.” I reached to the top cupboard and pulled down my favorite mug, a giant cup marked with black and white spots. It held two cups of coffee, which was perfect for me.

  “Yes, she did approve of us. Why wouldn’t she approve of me, you think your mother could have done better?” Frank sneered. “A woman with a teenage girl in tow isn’t much of a catch.”

  I glared at him. “Except for our money, right? That was good enough for you to demolish my life?”

  With a smug twist of his lips and a casual shrug, he went back to staring at the T.V., the scrolling stocks along the bottom apparently requiring his attention. He didn’t have to say anything else; we both knew I was right.

  To pass the time before Micah got there, I threw my clothes in the laundry, all of them fit in one load. I stared at them through the glass in the high-end washing machine. The machine was chromed out like a hot rod. That wasn’t what really struck me though.

  My entire world fit into one bag now; how things had changed. The laundry room was right off the kitchen, and I could see Frank still staring at the T.V even though he yelled at me.

  “You better buy your own soap. We’ll let you use the machine, but you can’t go milking off us forever.”

  I let out a slow breath, anger burning in my gut. What in the world had possessed Celia to marry that asshole? Did she really think that he would be a good father, or was she just concerned about how things looked? How he had a prestigious job and could afford a fancy house and cars? I hated to think so poorly of my own mother but the truth had been staring at me in the face for a long time now. She was a crappy mother, and she’d married a man who hadn’t made her any better of a mother. A man who’d in fact been verbally and emotionally abusive to her only child, and she’d turned a blind eye to it. As an adult, I knew that there was no way she’d not seen it, that as well as Frank had hidden his behavior, she’d known.

  “And I hope you don’t plan on moving home permanently. By the end of the week, you need to be out. We have friends coming to visit and you need to not be here.”

  His words echoed through the early morning. I sat down on the stool in the laundry room and took a sip of my coffee. “Fine.”

  “Are you sassing me, young lady?”

  With a groan, I leaned my head against the running machine. The smell of laundry soap and coffee wafted around me. Why couldn’t I have parents that actually gave a shit?

  “Not sassing you, just agreeing that I will be out by the end of the week.” I took another sip of my coffee and muttered, “The sooner the better.”

  I stayed in the laundry room until a quarter to eight, doing not only my own laundry, but folding a few baskets of Celia and Frank’s. Old habits died hard, I guess.

  My mother wasn’t up, so at least I didn’t have to face her as I slipped out the front door and walked to the end of the driveway to wait for Micah.

  The billow of dust
was visible long before his truck, and he slowed way down before he reached me. Still, I got a good lungful of dirty air. Waving my hand in front of my face, I grabbed the door handle, opening it.

  “Morning, Sunshine.” Micah grinned at me.

  “Sunshine?”

  “Trying out nicknames. Doesn’t really fit, does it?”

  “Just Brielle is fine.” I buckled in and stole a look at him. He still smiled at me.

  “All right, no nicknames.”

  We drove in silence for a few minutes before he started to tell me about the first client of the day, and the issues they were facing with the older horse that had been rescued, the concerns about getting the horse back from the brink of starvation.

  Curiosity finally got the better of me. “I thought you said you had a permanent position? But we’re going around to all sorts of clients today, from what you’re saying.”

  He glanced at me and then back to the road. “There is a lull at my regular employer’s, so I get to take on whatever clients I want right now until the end of the month. I’m taking advantage of this. Nice to work with everyday people who don’t have their entire fortunes wrapped up in horses.”

  He went on, talking about his job, and training. The sound of his voice, deeper timbered than I was used to, rolled pleasantly over me. I caught a whiff of cologne and a chuckle escaped me.

  “What?”

  “You put on cologne? I really wasn’t insulting you yesterday.”

  He let out laugh. “Just so you know, I always wear cologne. It has nothing to do with you insulting me so thoroughly yesterday.”

  “Just a coincidence?” Damn, I couldn’t stop smiling. I thought about Darwin and the dream I’d had the night before. Maybe Micah was related to Darwin? The timing would be right, if he showed up for the funeral, fell in love with the area and stayed. I wouldn’t have noticed him then, I was too lost in my grief, not that I would have been able to see him for anything other than just another person on the planet at that time. No, that couldn’t be it. Micah had already said he was related to Dr. Winston, and I knew that Darwin had no connection to the vet besides Fiona.

  The day rolled so smoothly I was afraid that perhaps it was a dream, and as it went on, I became more and more convinced that Micah was connected to Darwin. Mannerisms, quirks, sayings. They weren’t happening every moment, but they were there, reminders of a relationship between the two men. Then again, maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to.

  I forced myself not to stare at him, or think about him as anything other than a boss. For all I knew, he was just like my exes, and would end up using me. Not that I had anything for him to take, but still.

  Then again, watching the way Micah handled the frightened horses, the ones who trembled with anxiety and skittered away from him, I could see the gentle heart he had under his sometimes rough exterior. Not unlike his uncle, really.

  At the end of the second day, we headed once more to the coffee shop and I steeled myself against the emotional onslaught. But this time the pain was less, the memories softer, and I let out a sigh of relief.

  “You did good today, Brielle. You have a natural hand with the horses.”

  I smiled under his praise, my lips hurting from all the grinning. But after nearly two years of half-assed fake smiles, the real kind were an amazing relief. One that I didn’t want to stop.

  “Thanks. Are you sure I actually helped though? I don’t actually have any training background. I worked on a farm in France for a few months, but that was mostly riding.”

  He shrugged. “You don’t need to have a lot of training background. You’ll learn as I show you the ropes. By the end of the month, we’ll have you fighting off clients of your own.”

  I swatted at him, playfully, he dodged my swing, and my eyes widened. “You’re lucky you dodged that. I’ve got a mean right hook.”

  Laughing, he lifted his hands in surrender. “Got it.”

  He bought us coffee, but no donuts, which was both a relief and a disappointment.

  We didn’t stay, but instead, he drove me home. My body ached from the physical exertion, but I didn’t mind. For the first time since Darwin had died, my heart didn’t throb with each memory, didn’t clamor at me to cut it out of my chest and leave it somewhere to bleed the last of its life on the ground.

  “Same time tomorrow?” Micah asked as he put the truck into park at the end of my parent’s driveway.

  “Yup, you got it.”

  He took my hand and shook it but the shake turned into a hold. His eyes lifted to mine, as he held my hand. “Brielle, I have to be honest with you. There is something more than friendship between us.”

  The breath in my chest stilled and I struggled to take in a gulp of air. “Well, that was rather bold.”

  “I’m not known for my subtlety.”

  “Must get that from your uncle,” I said, my lips quirking into yet another smile. Damn him for making me so happy. Damn me for letting him.

  He didn’t smile back though, his thumb rubbed lightly over my knuckles. “I want to keep working with you. I want to see what this is between us, because I don’t understand it. But I don’t want to string you along. That’s not my style.”

  My heart pounded painfully, excitement coursing through me. Micah, for all the little I knew of him, made me feel as Darwin had. Like he got all of me, like he would accept me for who I was, regardless of my flaws and mistakes. “Okay.”

  He lifted his eyes to mine, tightened his grip on my hand. “Be patient with me, I’m trying to figure things out as fast as I can.”

  What the hell did that mean? I settled for simple. “Okay, but I’m only here for a month. Remember?”

  “And you wouldn’t stay … not even for … the best job offer in the world?”

  I opened my door and stepped out of the truck, needing to put some space between us, and this conversation. “I’ll see you in the morning, Micah.”

  Smiling, he lifted his hand and then gave me a wink. “In the morning then.”

  Again, I watched him drive away, my heart light, the pieces slowly knitting back together, one smile at a time, one touch at a time.

  Micah was exactly what I’d been looking for. Different from Darwin, their personalities were distinctly their own. Yet both of them did to me what no one else could.

  They’d both stolen into my heart within days of meeting them, without even trying.

  15

  BY THE END of the week, I wasn’t so sure I’d be leaving after the wedding. Micah and I fell into an easy routine of working together, reading each other without speaking. A give and take of understanding that flowed like water between us. He never pressed himself on me, but each night when he’d drop me off, he’d take my hand, hold it as though it were the most precious thing in the world. His eyes would search mine, and I’d stare back at him, wondering how I could be so lucky to have found a second man who made my heart try to sing again.

  “Penny, I can’t wait for you to meet him, he’s amazing. I just … I just can’t believe he was here all along.” I gushed, yes gushed into the phone, but still kept my voice down. No need to disturb Celia and Frank, even if it was my last night staying with them.

  “Bri, I’m so happy, that is the best news, like ever! Which is good, because I have some bad news.”

  “What?”

  “You know how I said my brother was heading out and you could stay with me here at his place?”

  I let out a groan. “Don’t tell me … .”

  “Yeah, he isn’t going now. I’m sorry, if he wasn’t such an asshat you could totally come and stay, but since the last time you saw him you punched him in the nose … .”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “We were fourteen and he grabbed my boob. What did he think I was going to do?”

  “I know, trust me. But you can’t stay here.”

  And just like that, I was homeless.

  When Micah picked me up, he eyed the bags that I carried with me, and a soft
thread of panic entered his voice. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”

  “No, but I can’t stay with my parents. Times up, have to find another place to crash.” A part of me thought he would offer, thought he might tell me I could stay with him. Okay, so I was hoping, but the offer never came.

  “What happened with your friend?”

  As we drove, I explained the situation with Penny and her brother whose nose I’d bloodied and pride I’d bruised. Micah laughed so hard, he had to pull over. “You broke his nose?”

  “No, I didn’t break it! I just smashed it good and made it bleed.”

  “Oh my god, I would pay to see that. I can just imagine you swinging that wicked right hook … .” and he was off again, laughing so hard he was bent over at the waist, hanging onto the steering wheel for support.

  I smack his arm. “Quit it! I’m homeless now thanks to my previous actions. See, you never know when mistakes will come back and bite you in the ass.”

  He sobered up as if I’d thrown a drink in his face. “Yeah, you can say that again.”

  After that, the whole day seemed to go downhill. The horses we were working with were rank, unresponsive, and in general not interested in responding to any of Micah’s techniques.

  Horse after horse blew through the cues, until finally Micah called it in the early afternoon.

  “That’s enough for today. They’re picking up on our emotions too much.” His eyes slid over to mine and I just shrugged. I didn’t feel any different, but I could see that Micah was struggling with something. Something about his past and whatever mistakes were there had him stirred up. At least, that’s what I was guessing, based on our conversation that morning.

  When we got back into the truck, he didn’t start it up right away, just leaned his head back against the rest and closed his eyes. I reached over and took his hand, twinned my fingers with his. “You want to talk? I’m here. I won’t judge you, even if you were the one to kill Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny.”

  Eyes still closed, he smiled and his hand tightened on mine. “You sure? You aren’t one of those girls who loves a man with a long white beard?” He looked over at me. “Yeah, we need to talk, but not here.”