by Khan, Jen
He kisses my hand again and releases it to open the door and put his hand on the small of my back to guide me into the passenger’s seat.
I lower myself into the seat, planting myself inside the car. I reach over my shoulder for the seatbelt and wince. My shoulder still gives me trouble when I make any sudden movements.
Braden bends down, pulls the seatbelt across my lap, and fastens it. “There you go, baby,” he smiles and shuts the door.
I watch him as he rounds the car to the driver’s side. He even exudes confidence when he walks. Hell, it's more of a stalk or a prowl.
He climbs in, and puts the key in the ignition bringing the car to life before easing it onto the road. We ride in silence while I try to think of what to say. I decide to speak only to shut my mouth again when Braden breaks the silence.
“What’s going on in that beautiful little head of yours, Em?”
I shake my head rapidly from side to side. “Nothing… I don’t know,” I reply, defeated. I look down at my hands resting in my lap.
I want tonight to be perfect. Earlier today, I decided that I was going to talk to Braden. Finally open up to him about how I’ve been doing lately. How I’ve regretted ending our relationship. Do I have a right to even hope for reconciliation? I mean, I know that he refuses to budge when I try to send him off. He's told me repeatedly that he's in this for the long haul and yet I still carry this fear around that he doesn't want me or I'm not good enough for him. I have never been this girl. It's driving me crazy.
I know that I still love him. There is no question about it. The problem is that I don’t deserve him. Not after what I did to him and certainly not after what Jose did to me.
Could I be so bold as to think that someone as damaged as myself would ever be truly loved again? Who in their right mind would want to take this on?
How could I expect Braden or any man to accept this kind of burden? To accept me as I now am?
My heart is kicking into overdrive.
“Emma,” Braden says, snapping into my thoughts. “Get out of that head of yours, baby. It doesn’t look like it’s a very good place for you to be hanging out right now.”
My body jolts, eyes moving to zero in on his profile. A thin sheen of sweat builds up on my forehead.
He takes his eyes off of the road looking at me, then back to the road, then back to me again. “Where were you just now?” he asks before focusing on the road.
I go to speak, but before I get a chance to respond, he looks at me out of the corner of his eye and says, “If it’s about us getting back together—“
“What?!” I shriek almost loud enough to crack his windshield.
Braden winces, bringing a hand to cup his ear. I lift my hands from my lap and cross my arms over my chest. He is teasing me.
“Jesus, baby. We’re not going back to that game, are we?”
“What game is that?” I practically snarl back to him.
He stretches over the console, pats my knee, and arches his brow at me. “Who kissed who last night?”
Shit. He has a good point. Okay, maybe I am being a bit of a drama queen. After all, it is true. I am the one who kissed him first. It's just the fact that I can’t stand it when he goes from sweet to cocky in a matter of seconds. Why does he have to do that and ruin a perfectly good evening?
He rumbles out a laugh, and I look out the window.
The nerve of this guy. Who the hell does he think he is?
The rest of the ride to dinner passes in silence.
Fucking infuriating.
*****
Braden stops the car, and when I look around, I realize that we are parked outside of Kyoto. This place is famous for its seafood and sushi. Not to mention the most amazing sangria ever in the creation of sangrias. I have been here a few times before. The food is truly amazing. The décor is beautiful. Dark wood, blue lighting down the walls, floor to ceiling fish tanks with tropical fish. I’ve always wondered how they keep that maintained.
We feast on sushi. He drinks beer and I drink sangria. I don’t always drink sangria, but when I do, I’m at Kyoto. I don’t know if it’s the bartenders or just the place, but the Sangria is to die for.
We talk and drink. Braden wants to know everything I have been doing over the few months we have been apart.
And we dance. God, I love it when he dances with me. The man has moves, and there is a band playing tonight.
It was during the meal when he stood, rounded the table, and took my hand in his. I pushed my chair out and stood next to him. He tugged my hand firmly to him so that I found myself against him. His other arm slid around me to where he planted his hand on the small of my back.
Braden shows me what I have been missing all those months. At first, it is a close, hips-swaying dance. He swings me out to arm’s length, twirls me, and winds me back to him.
He is strong and confident, and my body follows along with him. I was never much of a slow dancer, but I don’t feel that way with him. I move where he guides.
We’ve danced countless times together, yet I still remember the first time we danced together. It felt like we’d been made to be partners. It was natural and right and beautiful. I remember how he used to make me feel like I was the only one in the room every time we were together, and we were together over a year.
During the times when the music would slow, he would hold me close and just sway. The music would pick up and he would twirl me out again. When the song ends, we stay close, our hips swaying. His hand is in mine, resting on his chest. His arm is around me with his other hand on the small of my back. My other hand is on his shoulder.
I am so caught up in the moment that I can’t stop myself from saying what I do next. “Right here, right now is where I want to be. It’s where I’ve wanted to be for a long time.”
I have his complete and undivided attention.
Braden smiles down at me and kisses the top of my head.
So now we are back at the table, finished with our meals and thinking about dessert. I don’t know how I could be thinking about more food when I just ate enough to feed a small village. But I am, because until you’ve had the crème brûlée at Kyoto, you haven’t lived.
I am three sangrias deep when he asks me about Joe.
I shake my head and look away, surveying the restaurant. I take great interest in the couple at the table next to us.
The man is heavyset. His shirt is so tight around his gut that when he laughs his belly jiggles, and I am afraid for the buttons on that shirt. At any moment, every button is going to fly across the room with such great force that they could kill someone. Okay, maybe not kill someone, but definitely do some serious damage like take out an eye.
The woman is very slim and plain-looking. Mousy brown hair, brown eyes, pointy nose. I bet she could be prettier with the right makeup and clothes. They seem content together.
Braden leans over and puts his hand on the side of my face. I close my eyes and lean into it. When I look at him, he has the softest look in his eyes.
So, I tell him everything.
I say all of this in one breath. I am speaking so fast that I don’t think I even understand what is coming out of my mouth.
“Joe left. He took the money that you gave him. Six thousand dollars and he was gone. All I have left of him is the note he left behind. A big fat ‘Thanks for the money, kid, and peace out.’ The day that I broke up with you, I was paid a visit by a man who Joe owed that money to. He told me he was going to get his money whether he got it from me or him. If he didn’t, he was going to go after you, or worse, Olivia. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let anyone go after you, and I certainly couldn’t allow Olivia to get hurt because of me and my father.”
Braden’s hand drop from my face and he draws in his eyebrows. He looks confused at first.
No, he is angry.
“Is that why you broke up with me?”
“Don’t you see? I had to. I was protecting you and your family. I
love you—loved you—too much to let anyone get close to you. Not only that, but I was becoming too much of a burden on you. How many more times were you going to bail my father out of another problem before you realized that I was draining you dry? I didn’t want you to wake up one day years from now and resent me.”
“So you decided you would make that decision for me? Jesus, Em,” Braden clips.
I look down at the table. When I slide my gaze back at him, his face is twisted in indignation.
“You couldn’t trust me to love you enough to do whatever it took to keep you safe?”
“No!” I squeal. I literally squealed right here in the middle of the restaurant.
I look around us and see that all eyes are on me.
“I could have kept all of this from happening. This is all my fault. What happened to you was because I didn’t do my job better of proving to you just how much I loved you.”
My eyes snap up to him in utter disbelief. I rapidly shake my head from left to right. Oh God. How could he think this?
His face. I never want to see that look on his face again. It is torture to see the pain emanating from his eyes, his face pale. I put it there.
He pushes his chair back from the table and stands. He walks around to where I am seated and drops to his knees right here next to me. I move my legs out to him, and he puts his hands on my thighs looking up at me.
“If I would have done my job better, if I could have just shown you exactly how much you meant to me, this would never have happened to you.”
Oh my God! He really does blame himself for what happened to me.
Tears are shimmering in his eyes. I throw my arms around his neck and put my cheek to his. His tears stream from his eyes and wet my cheek.
“Please don’t blame yourself for what happened to me. I know how much you loved me. You showed me every minute of every day that we were together.”
I pull my face from his and move my arms from around his neck, cupping his face with one hand on each side. I wipe his tears with my thumbs.
“Look at me.” He continues to look down at my legs. “Braden,” I whisper. “Look at me.”
He peeks up at me with his head still bowed and more tears flow down his face. My own tears begin to fall.
“There is nothing to forgive. This was my fault. I did this. I ended our relationship because I thought I was doing right by you. I am so sorry.”
Braden wraps his arms around my waist and squeezes me tight around the middle, resting his head in my lap.
“If I had listened to you that night you came into the bar instead of … I could have protected you from the motherfucker.“
I run my hand through his short hair, and when he is done taking a minute to pull himself together, he sits up, wipes his eyes and sniffs.
“Shhhh. Stop.”
“Baby, please. Please, let me get back to doing what I was always supposed to do.”
“What’s that?” I breathe.
“To take care of you, to love you. I knew it the day I laid eyes on you when you walked into my bar with Olivia and asked for a light beer and a shot of Jäger.”
I start laughing. Hard. Uncontrollable giggling ensues, and Braden gives me one of his deep, manly laughs. I shrug and wipe my tears from my cheek.
“If you want a girl who is a hot mess, has daddy issues, and is a little damaged on the side.” I laugh out again, "I guess I'm your girl.
Braden smiles up at me. “You are the most beautiful hot mess that I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
I jump up out of my seat, damn near knocking him back on his ass. “Get up,” I order.
“Yes, ma’am,” he responds and stands up.
He is on me fast, snaking an arm around my waist. His hand in my hair at the back of my head, angling my head to the side. His slightly to the other side and slams his mouth over mine. His tongue moves in. Oh God! He tastes amazing. A mixture of what could only be described as Braden and beer.
I need to deepen the kiss, and he gives that to me. My hands slide up his chest and around his head, cupping it and bringing him closer to me.
He pulls my body so close to his own that our hips are touching, which causes a small moan to escape me. He removes his mouth from mine and rests his forehead to mine. My legs are wobbly, forcing me to have to hold on to his shoulders to keep me steady.
We hear a gentleman clear his throat.
Braden bends his head down and lightly bites my bottom lip, smiling against it. We both pull away and look at our waiter.
“Can I get you two anything else, or will that be all for you this evening?” he asks with a grin.
“We’ll take the check,” Braden replies.
I look around us and see that some of the other diners are smiling, some are gaping, and some are crinkling their faces, clearly in disgust due to our very public display of affection.
I put my face into Braden’s shoulder and giggle. This has to be our best date ever.
We ride back to my apartment in silence. This time we are stealing glances at each other and smiling. Braden’s hand is on my thigh and my hand is on top of his. Occasionally, I earn a squeeze.
I bite my lip and he groans removing his hand from my thigh.
The warmth immediately leaves me when he pulls away, and I don’t like it. I look at my thigh as if it were foreign to me without his hand there to keep it company.
“What?”
He adjusted himself in his seat. Oh!
“If you bite your lip like that again, I am going to take you over my knee.”
Oh my God!
I forgot how much that turns him on, and there were times like right now that I don’t even realize I am doing it. I am a creature of habit, I suppose.
We pull up to the apartment. It seems as though this ride was way shorter than the ride to the restaurant.
Before I can get a foot out the door, Braden is there, holding his hand out to me. Looking up at him with a smile on my face, I place my hand in his and let him pull me out of the seat. He shuts the door behind me and hooks his arm around my neck, curling me into his side, bringing the side of my face into his chest, and kissing me on the temple.
“Beautiful,” he says against my head.
He lets us into the apartment, locking the door behind us. I forgot he never did give me back my keys.
Braden comes up behind me, his chest to my back, and he runs his hands up and down my thighs. His fingers curl into the skirt of my dress and pull it up to my waist. I drop my purse to the floor and my hands circle around his wrists. My knees are trembling. I spin around in his arms and hook mine behind his neck, standing up on my toes.
“Kiss me,” I say again his chin.
“Gladly, beautiful.”
He crushed his lips to mine with so much force that my legs become instant Jell-O. His mouth moves against mine with such fierceness that I am turned on immediately.
He hooks his hands at the backs of my thighs and lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist. His hands cup my ass as he walks us back to my bedroom, kissing me the entire way.
In my room, he kicks the door closed behind him and lowers me slowly down the length of his body. I stand there before him, hands to his chest, legs trembling, as he leans back and his eyes travel down my body, stopping at my waist, where my skirt is bunched. His eyes move to mine, leaning back in to where he is only inches from my face, letting out a shuddering breath. He moves and I am on the bed with him on top, kissing his way down my neck.
He nuzzles the crook of neck—always a hot spot for me. I shiver, and he lets out a low moan. He presses his weight on top of me, and his mouth is on mine. His kiss is sweet, soft, and deep. My hands are moving all over his skin, loving every inch. His hands are moving down my sides.
As his hands travel their way back up, his mouth slides to my ear and nibbles my lobe. He whispers, “I want you, baby.”
I shiver again.
He smiles against my neck and his tongue glides up as he kisses
the skin behind my ear. Leaning on one forearm, he uses his other hand, placing it at his neck and pulling his head through his shirt to remove it.
I shiver a third time.
Braden’s hands go to my dress and it is gone, just like that. He tosses it to the floor pulls my leggings down and removes those while his gaze roams my body in appreciation.
He wraps an arm around my back, lifts up, and brings me with him, straightening my legs behind him so that I am forced to straddle him, my hands gripping his shoulders. I can feel his erection straining against his jeans and I let a moan escape.
Braden wraps one arm around my waist, using his other hand to pull down the cup of my bra, exposing my nipple. His hand moves to my breast, lifting it to his mouth. I tip my head back while he sucks on my nipple. I whimper, tightening my grip on his shoulders. My hips buck in his lap, and he moans. I buck again, grinding my hips harder against his erection.
I roll my hips hard, steady, over and over. My hands slide into his hair, gripping him at the back of his scalp and giving a tug. The arm at my breast is gone, the arm around my waist tightens, and I am on my back again.
Braden’s mouth comes back to mine. Slow, sweet kisses. His mouth moves to my neck, to my throat, and down as his tongue dips to my collar. That sends a quiver through me and I shift my hips under him to try to get closer. I need him closer.
His mouth slowly moves back up my neck as his hands move up my sides. They cup my breasts.
“Yes,” I breathe.
His thumb circles over my nipples. One finger and thumb grip and do a delicious roll. My back arches off the bed all on its own. I say this because my body is no longer under my control. Braden has all of it.
He runs his mouth up my neck and takes mine in a heated, more demanding kiss than any other. My tongue moves against his. In this time, somehow my bra is removed. We are skin on skin and it is fabulous.
I lift my hips and grind against him, earning a deep growl into my mouth, which also earns me a hip thrust and a deeper kiss. I whimper.
Braden’s voice is hoarse when he asks, “Do you trust me, baby?”
“Yes,” I whisper instantly.
