by Megan Green
I get up from the couch, padding around the corner to where I find Brandon standing in my kitchen.
Well, I guess that answers that question.
He pulls two white Styrofoam containers from a brown paper sack, popping them open and spilling the contents out onto two plates.
The scent of sugar and maple syrup hits my nose, and my stomach grumbles in response. I take a step toward him, peering over his shoulder at the deliciousness on the counter.
“French toast from Ted’s? How’d you know that’s my favorite?”
He shoots me a smug grin, and I half-expect him to feed me some bullshit line about him being just that good or something.
But he surprises me when he shrugs a shoulder and answers truthfully, “Lexi.”
Ah, I should’ve known. That traitor sure has a lot to answer for over the past few days.
But watching Brandon as he effortlessly moves around my kitchen makes it hard to stay angry with her for long.
I didn’t want to bother him when I knew he had a game. His focus was needed elsewhere. But my stubborn friend went behind my back and called him anyway.
And, now, here he is, having completely missed the game and not seeming the least bit troubled by it. In fact, judging by the smile that’s been on his face since I first walked into the room, I might even go so far as to say he’s happy to be here.
I surprise myself, sliding my arms around his waist and pressing my chest against his back. He drops the fork in his grip and places his hand over my linked fingers, softly rubbing them.
“Thank you for coming, Brandon.”
He spins around, circling my waist with his arms as he pulls me flush against him. He smells so damn good…feels so damn good. I just can’t help but melt against him a little. I rest my cheek against his hard chest, loving the sound of his heartbeat in my ear.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Liv. You need me, and I’m here. Always.”
I lift my face to look at him, and all traces of the carefree playboy I’ve always known are gone. In their place are honesty, authenticity, and concern.
I wet my lips as his gaze drops to them, hoping he can see the silent permission in my eyes. He must because, before I know it, his lips drop to mine, brushing them in the gentlest, most exquisite way possible.
The kiss is soft and tentative, but the fluttering in my chest is anything but. When his hand leaves my waist and entwines itself in my hair, locking my face against his, I can’t help the whimper that escapes my lips.
He groans against my lips, his tongue darting out to run along the seam, begging for entrance. I grant it, opening for him and brushing his tongue with my own.
His mouth is hungry as it devours mine, his breath hot and sweet as it invades my senses. Before I realize what he’s doing, he spins us, pinning me between the counter and his hard body, slightly bending me back with the pressure.
The edge of the granite digs into the small of my back, but I couldn’t care less. My hands travel up the length of his body, feeling every inch and every ripple of the hard muscles beneath his shirt. When they reach his shoulders and dig into the rock-solid flesh there, he lets out another groan, his hands dropping back to my waist as he lifts me onto the counter.
I wrap my legs around him, pulling his hard length against my center, locking my feet around his ass to keep him in place. He lets out a guttural cry when he feels me rock against him, his cock rising immediately at the contact.
But then he surprises me again by pulling back, his forehead dropping to mine as he removes his lips from my mouth.
“We need to stop, Tink.”
Every nerve ending in my body wants to protest, wants to continue rubbing itself against him, wants to continue chasing that intense feeling that only Brandon has brought out in me before.
But I know he’s right. This isn’t how this should happen. Not against the counter in my kitchen, my head still not on right after the ordeal yesterday.
But fuck if I don’t want it.
He takes a step back and helps me down from the counter, giving me space to readjust my clothes that rode up in our tryst. Grabbing both plates from where they were shoved to the side on the counter, he nods toward the table. I follow him like a puppy, my mind still reeling over what just happened.
And what would’ve happened if Brandon hadn’t had the sense to stop it.
I watch him as he moves, absolutely stunned over the fact that he stopped it. I was one hundred percent all in, the feel of his kiss the first thing that was able to pull my thoughts away from my scare with the baby since it had happened. I would’ve been completely content to screw his brains out right here in the kitchen if it meant another hour I didn’t have to spend worrying about my mother and what she’d almost caused.
But then I would’ve resented the hell out of myself for it. And I would’ve hated Brandon for letting me do something so stupid when he knew I wasn’t in the right frame of mind.
The Brandon I met several months ago wouldn’t have given a shit. He’d have been looking out for number one—namely, his dick—and would’ve fucked me and then probably split before sense even returned to me.
But once again, he’s proven me wrong. He dropped everything to come here because he thought I needed him. And he put the brakes on what surely would’ve been an epic fuck in my kitchen without so much as a blink.
I’d felt how hard he was against me when I wrapped my legs around him. Not many men would risk that sort of blue balls to do the noble thing.
Brandon is proving again and again that he’s not at all what I expected.
As I take a seat next to him and dig into my lukewarm French toast, I can’t keep my eyes from traveling over his face. He’s been trying so hard, coming back whenever he has a few days off, calling me every night, and texting me every chance he gets. And, still, I’ve doubted him. I think back to my words last night and the hurt look on his face when I told him I fully expected him to leave as soon as the baby was born. I hadn’t even thought about how those words might affect him before I said them. Because I truly thought he didn’t care.
Turns out, I was the one who didn’t care. About anybody but myself.
I reach my hand out, placing it over the one of his resting on the table beside his plate. His eyes lift to mine, and he gives me a goofy smile, small bits of toast caught between his teeth. I chuckle, absolutely loving seeing this side of him.
“I’m so sorry, Brandon,” I tell him, needing to clear the air between us.
He shakes his head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Liv. This isn’t your fault.”
My eyes briefly fall to the plate before lifting back to his. “I don’t mean about the baby. I’m sorry about how I’ve been treating you these past few weeks. I’m sorry I’ve doubted you.”
He drops the fork again, sliding his chair back so that he can face me completely. His hands come up to cup my face, his thumbs brushing lightly over my cheekbones as he looks at me. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Tink. I don’t blame you for being wary with your heart. Fuck, I know I haven’t exactly given you much to go on. There’s no reason whatsoever for you to believe anything that comes out of my mouth. I’ve lied to women before. I’ve said whatever I thought they wanted to hear so that I could get into their pants. I know I’ve been a piece of shit in the past. But I don’t want to be that anymore. I don’t want to be that guy anymore. And I’m willing to spend as much time as it takes to convince you that I’m here to stay. For good.”
I shake my head, blinking back the tears I feel stinging my eyes. “How can you be so sure? You said it yourself last night. We’re still getting to know each other. How do you know that you’ll want me after you’ve spent more time with me?”
He places his hand over my stomach, gently patting it. “Because you’ve already given me the biggest gift I could ever ask for. And because, despite what you think, I know you. I know that I haven’t been able to get you off my mind for a single second
. I might not be the smartest guy on the planet, Tink, but I know enough to know when I’ve got something good sitting right in front of me. And even I’m not stupid enough to screw that up.”
His words make my heart sing despite my brain protesting that there’s no way this will work. There’s no way we’ll be able to get past all our differences and actually make a life together. And there’s no way in hell that, after my stomach is stretched and my vagina is destroyed, he’ll still want me.
But I shove all that doubt down, deciding I’ll cross that bridge if and when I come to it. For now, Brandon has proven he’s trustworthy. He’s shown me he’s willing to do anything for me and our baby, and I’ll be damned if I let my stubborn ass get in the way of my child being able to have two parents just because I’m scared.
And, to prove to myself—and Brandon—that I’m willing to put in the effort if he is, I decide it’s time I tell him something about myself. Something nobody else knows, other than Charlie.
“My mom and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms,” I begin, holding up a hand when he opens his mouth to speak. I know he’s about to tell me I don’t need to talk about it if I don’t want to, that I should wait until I’m feeling better, et cetera, et cetera. But, if I don’t do this now, I’m not sure I ever will. The longer I wait, the more likely it is that my defenses will rise, and I’ll go back to thinking I can do this on my own.
And I don’t want to.
“She got pregnant with me when she was really young, and she had no way to support herself, let alone a baby. My entire childhood, I watched as she brought home man after man, desperate for one to finally stay and take care of her. Unfortunately for her, the only types of men who were interested in a poor woman with a kid were the ones who were looking for an easy lay, not a wife. We ended up in Maple Lake after she followed one of her many men here, thinking that, if she just got him away from his wife, he’d finally see what they could have. He left shortly after we arrived.”
Brandon’s fingers entwine with mine as I speak, giving them a reassuring squeeze. I draw strength from that touch and force myself to continue.
“Lucky for me, we didn’t have money to go anywhere else, so we were stuck here. Though, at the time, I thought Maple Lake was just about the worst place on earth and did everything I could to let my mother know.”
I smile briefly at those memories, all the times I rebelled against this place, sneaking out at night and coming home late. I don’t know what I thought it would accomplish, as my mother never gave two fucks about where I was. But it did bring me to Charlie, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.
“One day, I stumbled into Turn the Page. I hadn’t been in there before because, as a fourteen-year-old punk, the thought of bookstores bored me to tears. But I’d seen everyone at school reading some dumb black book with an apple and some hands on the cover, and I wanted to know what the fuss was about.
“I’d just slipped the book under my shirt when Charlie’s hand came down on my shoulder. I immediately crumbled, tears streaming down my face as I apologized over and over, telling him I’d never do it again and begging him not to call the police. I didn’t want to go to jail even if I was convinced my mother probably wouldn’t even notice.”
“Charlie caught you stealing?” he asks, his brows furrowing in confusion.
I nod. “He did. And it still blows my mind every day that, instead of calling and reporting me, he directed me over to a chair where he brought me a muffin and offered me a job.”
“He did what?” Brandon’s voice conveys all the shock I felt when Charlie uttered the words all those years ago.
“He told me I could work to earn that book I wanted. He said he needed help with stacking books and sweeping the floors. I look back at it now, and I realize it was a load of bullshit. He had me pull books from the shelves and rearrange them, only to put them back exactly how they’d been to begin with. But, for some reason, I kept coming back, completely falling in love with the stories he paid me with at the end of each of my shifts. Between my time in the shop and the hours I spent lost between those pages, I managed to keep myself out of trouble. And I gained the first valuable relationship I’d ever had in my life.”
Brandon smiles, the movement reaching his eyes, as I talk about Charlie. “I knew I liked that dude. Just didn’t realize how much.”
“He’s the best person I’ve ever known. He saved me before I even realized I needed saving. And, when my mom left, he made sure I had a place to stay and food to eat so that I wouldn’t end up in the system. He became a foster parent without ever having any intention of doing so.”
“So, she just took off one day?”
I nod. “Pretty much. I came home from school, and she was nowhere to be found. I didn’t think much of it at the time because it wasn’t uncommon for her to disappear for a day or two, spending as much time with her new flame as she could in hopes that it would spark into something more. But, after a week with no sign of her, I knew this time was different. I didn’t hear from her again until after my eighteenth birthday when she called, begging me for money.”
“Does she do that often? Call and ask for money?”
I shrug. “Not often, often. But often enough to be annoying. I heard from her every month or two for a while. And then, one day, she called, asking for a substantial sum. Told me it would be the last time, that this would be enough for her to get back on her feet.”
“And I take it, it wasn’t?”
I shake my head. “I thought it was. A few years went by with no word from her, and I thought I was finally free. Until last month when she called again.”
“Last month? After you found out you were pregnant?”
I nod. “Yes. And, like an idiot, I sent the money, hoping it would keep her away. I don’t want her near my baby. She’s the worst type of person. I thought that, if I gave her what she wanted, she’d go away, and I wouldn’t have to deal with her again. Not for another few years at least.”
“But then she showed up the other night,” he says, finishing my thought for me.
My face falls, my eyes dropping to the floor as I recall the conversation I had with my mother two nights ago. “Yep. She showed up, asking me for a place to stay. She said a lot of things I didn’t want to hear, and I guess it just sort of triggered something in me. Made me freak out and caused this whole fiasco.”
“What did she say to you?”
I bite back my tears again, dropping his hands and bringing my arms to my waist so that I can cradle my belly. “She told me I was just like her, that I was stupid enough to get myself pregnant, and how I’d basically never amount to anything now. She’d had all these dreams, growing up, and they’d all disappeared as soon as she found out she was pregnant with me. She’s always blamed me for ruining her life, and now, I’m following exactly in her footsteps.”
Brandon’s hand smacks down on the table, causing the dishes to rattle against the wood. I jump in my seat, the sound completely unexpected.
“That’s complete bullshit, Liv, and you know it. You’re nothing like that woman. Fuck, I don’t even know her, and I already hate her. But I can tell you one thing.”
I lift my eyes to his, desperate to hear his words.
“You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met. And the most incredible. Don’t you dare ever let anybody tell you otherwise. Because they are dead wrong.”
“But do you see why I was so hesitant to tell you now? I didn’t want you to think I was like my mother, trying to trap you into taking care of me.”
He shakes his head, reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear as he gives me a dazzling smile. “I could never think that about you, Tink. Like I said, you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. And you will never, ever be like your mother. Allowing me into your life and letting me help raise the baby doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t mean you’re inferior or incapable. It means you’re fucking strong. Because letting someone close to you and dropping your guard i
s one of the hardest fucking things anyone can do. Giving them your heart and trusting them not to break you…that’s the most courageous thing on the planet.”
I smile, his words striking a chord within me. Because I want to be strong. For him. For my baby.
And for myself.
I can’t help the smirk that crosses my lips when I realize what he said though. He gives me a questioning look, as if he can tell I’m up to something.
“What is it?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you, Jeffers? Who says I’m giving you my heart?” I say with a wink.
He smiles back at me. “Trust me, Tink; it’s only a matter of time.”
Chapter 16
Brandon
It didn’t take long to track down where Liv’s mom was staying in a town this size. An old woman who remembered her from her years here before took pity on her, letting her crash on her couch until she could “work things out with Liv.” Her words, not mine.
She was surprised as hell to see me and even more shocked when she realized who I was. The moment it clicked in her brain that the father of Liv’s child was none other than the best hitter in the major leagues, she couldn’t wait to use that to her advantage.
I didn’t let her make too much out of it though. The first time she even implied that Liv was after my money, I shut that shit down. I wasn’t about to just sit there and listen to her bad-mouth the mother of my child.
“Just take the money and go. I don’t give half a fuck as to what you have to say about Liv and me. This is what you want,” I said, holding up a handful of bills. “So, take it and get your ass out of here. Don’t make me take back my offer.”
She shut up pretty quickly after that, grabbing the stacks of cash I’d withdrawn this morning and shuffling off to her room down the hall to pack her shit.
Now, as I watch the car glide down the road with her in the back seat, I can’t help but wonder what Liv is going to say when she finds out about this. Not that I have any intention of telling her. I’d be perfectly fine with her never knowing about the interaction that went down between me and her sorry excuse for a mother this morning. But, in Maple Lake, it’s bound to surface eventually.
