One Last Dance (Oak Grove Series Book 2)

by Stopper, Nancy

  She drew in a big breath. You got this, girl. You’re strong now. You can help Rachel find her strength.

  The pep talk only helped a little. Her stomach lurched, and sweat broke out on her upper lip as she walked to the window. “Hey,” she said when she reached Rachel’s side.

  Rachel looked at her, her expression confused for a moment before realization flooded her gaze. “If Joey sent you out here, you can march yourself right back into his office and tell him to back off.”

  Brittany blanched. She eyed the door. She didn’t need this. She was just here for a visit. What was she doing sticking her nose in somewhere it didn’t belong? But if Brittany didn’t intervene, who would? She extended her hand. “Here, I brought you a soda.”

  “Thanks,” Rachel mumbled.

  Good first step. Rachel didn’t shoo her away again. “Joey didn’t send me. I wanted to talk. Is that okay?”

  “You know my brother doesn’t do girlfriends, only hook-ups, right? Are you his latest flavor of the week?”

  The harsh words stung Brittany right in the heart. Joey’s history and the looming deadline of her departure flashed bright like a beacon, warning her off getting further involved with people in this town. But despite all of that, she couldn’t turn away. This was about Rachel, not Brittany’s insecurities. She extended her hand. “Will you sit with me for a minute?”

  “I guess.” Rachel followed Brittany to the same booth Brittany had occupied the first night. They both sat silently for a moment, neither looking at the other.

  “Joey’s worried about you.”

  Rachel slid halfway out of the bench, and Brittany scrambled for something to say. “Please, don’t leave. Talk to me.”

  Rachel sat back down, but barely, poised ready to leave at any moment. “Why should I?”

  “Because I’ve been where you are now.” Those words came out easier than she expected. Maybe by helping someone else, Brittany could find the healing she needed. The balm for the emotional scars deep in her gut where the memories of her childhood lived. But she couldn’t worry about herself now. This was about Rachel.

  Rachel’s head snapped up.

  “I know every tip in the book to cover black eyes and handprints on your cheek. I’ve worn turtlenecks in the summer to hide the marks around my neck and long sleeves in the heat so no one could see the bruises on my arms. I’ve hidden out at home because I was too embarrassed to go out. I’ve run into doors, fallen down stairs, fallen off my bike. You name it, I’ve done it. At least that’s what I told everyone in my hometown.”

  “A boyfriend?” Rachel asked, her words tentative but her eyes fixed on Brittany.

  “My father.” The words came out on a huff, but Brittany’s heart lightened as she said them. Not telling anyone had eaten at her for so long that talking about it was helping her as much as she hoped it would help Rachel.

  “It’s not the same.”

  Abuse was abuse, and Rachel had to see this in a way that Brittany’s mother never could. “It is the same. Because before he hit me, he hit my mother. Over and over. Night after night. But she stayed with him. She said he loved her.”

  Rachel squared her jaw and fire filled her eyes. “Shane loves me. He does.”

  “I’ve heard every excuse in the book. My mother was the master of them. Even after my father started hitting me and my sister, Mom explained it away. And I didn’t have anyone to turn to. My father was friends with all two of the members of the local police force. They were his drinking buddies. So no one would have believed my mother, even if she’d tried to go for help. Which she didn’t.”

  “Did he ever stop? Hitting her?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I left town as soon as I could, and I’ve never looked back.” Except to worry about her sister. But her father’s rage had never been directed at Molly like it had at Brittany. She’d hoped her sister wouldn’t suffer the wrath as much as Brittany. “My sister left two years later.”

  “Sister…”

  “Yes, he hit her, too. Although I think he laid off her and reserved his anger for our mother after I left. I’m still in touch with my sister, but we don’t talk about him. Not ever.”

  “Why are you telling me?”

  “I thought you could use a friend. Someone who knows—who understands—what you’re going through.”

  “Shane loves me. Maybe if I didn’t—”

  Just like her mother. Her mother had grown feeble, meek, after years of abuse at the hands of their father. The excuses had rolled off her tongue just as easily. When he’d turned his rage on Brittany and her sister, though, she’d expected her mother to step in. But Mom hadn’t. Instead she’d just told the girls not to make him mad, to stay away from him when he got like that. That wasn’t what a mother should do.

  “Don’t, Rachel. Look at me.” Brittany extended her hands across the table, grabbing Rachel’s and squeezing. This was too important to let her brush it aside. “Don’t. Nothing you do, and I mean nothing, gives a man, or anybody, an excuse to hurt you. You did not cause him to do this. You didn’t make him mad. He got mad, and he took it out on you. And that’s wrong.”

  Rachel looked down at their joined hands. When was the last time she’d had someone really listen to her or reach out to her? Surely Joey and his brothers had, to some extent. But Brittany knew that Rachel’s shame would never allow her to really open herself up to them.

  “I know the entire routine. I’ve heard it all. Nothing you say will surprise me. Please, you have a lot of people concerned. I saw the pain in Joey’s eyes when you stormed out of his office. He feels helpless. He loves you so much and he’s worried about you.”

  “I… I know.”

  “And listen… I want to give you my number.”

  Rachel hesitated, no doubt worried about Shane finding out. She finally pulled her phone from her pocket. Brittany dictated her cell number and Rachel typed it in.

  “If he ever tries to hit you again, I want you to leave. You can call me. Anytime. No matter where I am, I promise you, I will get you help.”

  Rachel tucked her phone back in her pocket. “Shane loves me. I know it.”

  Until Rachel realized that love didn’t mean abuse, she wouldn’t be ready to leave. But Brittany had to try. “Just remember. You can call me. Anytime.”

  After another long moment of silence between them, Brittany stood up, leaving Rachel sitting in the booth, her back to the room, but her shoulders straighter than when they’d begun their conversation.

  Brittany wished her mother, or anyone, had been worried about Brittany growing up as much as Joey was about Rachel. How could any mother put her child in that situation? Why hadn’t she pulled Brittany and her sister out the minute their father had turned his rage on them?

  Brittany’s hands trembled again. This time not from fear, but relief. She’d told someone about her abuse, and she’d made it through. Maybe, just maybe, she’d helped Rachel see that she had hope. And people who loved her. But the conversation with Rachel had drained Brittany. She climbed onto a stool at the bar next to a man nursing a drink. That’s exactly what she needed. “Hey, Carla. Can I get a beer?”

  “Sure thing. You all right?”

  “I will be. Thanks.”

  Carla drew the beer and passed it over the bar. Brittany took in a huge drink, the cool liquid a balm to her swirling mind. Carla wiped down the bar with her towel. “Have you met Sawyer? He’s a deputy sheriff in town.”

  Brittany spun around and laughed at the man in the green T-shirt and jeans, his hair hanging long on his collar. She hadn’t recognized him out of uniform. “Actually, we’ve met.”

  Sawyer joined her in laughter and Carla looked between them, a confused expression on her face.

  Brittany swiped her finger under her eyes. “Let’s just say I met Sawyer on the job.”

  “He pulled you over? Sawyer, are you losing your touch, pulling over the ladies in town?”

  “It wasn’t me he pulled over,” Brittany qui
ckly added.

  She and Sawyer shared another glance before turning to Carla, whose expression changed to a smile as realization swept over her. “That’s too funny, pulling over your friend, huh, Sawyer?”

  “Had to be done, Carla.” A fleeting smile crossed Sawyer’s lips, making him even more handsome. But his smile didn’t compare to Joey’s. His smile sank into every cell of her being, shook her to her core, and drove her wild.

  “At least you two have met. Can I get you something to eat, Brittany?”

  “How about a couple of burgers and fries? I’ll take some back to Joey once it’s ready.”

  “You got it.”

  Brittany spun back to Sawyer only to encounter his back, his head turned toward the corner booth where Rachel sat staring at the wall.

  “Everything okay there?” he asked Brittany.

  “I hope so.”

  His brows furrowed and he worried his bottom lip. “Is there anything I need to know?”

  “Just keep a close eye on her.”

  “Always,” he asserted. Brittany’s interest piqued at the look in Sawyer’s eye, the tone in his voice, the sparks of something more than friendship.

  After a few moments, Carla popped out of the kitchen. “I’ve got your burgers, honey. Hot and ready to go, just like me.”

  “Thanks, Carla.” Brittany turned back to Sawyer. “We’ll see you later, Sawyer. Watch Rachel for a little, will you?”

  “I will. Tell Joey I’m out here.”

  “You got it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  JOEY PACED ACROSS the floor, running his hand through his hair. Each time his path took him toward the door, his eyes stayed fixed on the handle, willing it to turn, for Brittany to come back. He tried sitting at his desk, rifling through the paperwork that had piled up, but he couldn’t focus. His mind was out on the floor with Rachel… and Brittany.

  Although he wanted to storm out there and force Rachel to talk to him, he trusted Brittany. He’d seen determination combined with tenderness in her expression. His initial impression of her as a city girl, while accurate on its face, didn’t even scratch the surface of the complex woman he was quickly falling in love with.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  He darted over and ripped it open. Brittany stood on the other side, two plates in her hands. He pulled her in, slamming the door behind her. The plates in her hands shook. After setting the food aside, he turned back to her, grabbing her hands in his. She still trembled and her eyes looked weary. “How’d it go?”

  He searched her eyes and saw the struggle in them. Dammit, this was worse than he thought. He raked his fingers through his hair. She just stared at him, the silence uncomfortable. Had Rachel run out again? Had something worse happened, and Brittany was trying to soften the blow? Just say something, anything.

  She smiled at him and he relaxed. A little. “It went okay. I talked to her and she’s calmed down.”

  “Did she tell you what Shane did to her? Do I need to go kick his ass?” Joey paced across the office again. “I need to get out there. She’s going to tell me what he did to her.”

  Brittany grabbed his arms, halting him in front of her. The strokes of her fingers across his wrist soothed him. His pulse raced beneath her touch. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down and rested her forehead against his. “Let’s leave her alone for a while. She’s thinking through some things. She needs to know that you will be there for her, no matter what. She’s not ready to ask you for help yet. Let’s hope she will be soon.”

  He lowered his head to her shoulder, nuzzling his face into the small of her neck. He drew in a deep breath. “It’s just so hard. I can’t stand to see what’s happening to her. I miss my little sister.”

  “I know.”

  Joey lifted his head, searching her eyes before placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “I appreciate you talking to her. Some vacation, huh?”

  She smirked. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s been pretty good so far.”

  The closer they came to the time she would have to leave, the more he wanted to find a way to convince her to stay. As much as she’d raved about her life in the city, he’d seen her pure enjoyment at the job site. That gave him hope. Just as long as Brittany didn’t turn into another Shelby, leaving him with his heart broken at the end of their time together.

  His pulse still raced, his fear over Rachel now mixed with his growing need to claim Brittany, to brand her as his own. He lowered his head, his lips slamming down on hers. He wrapped his arms tight around her and thrust his tongue into her mouth. His skin felt like it would go up in flames. His groin tightened painfully. Anger and desire, two very powerful emotions, warred for control of his mind and body. He needed Brittany more than he needed air. She opened to him, and he tangled his tongue with hers before taking it deeper.

  His hands stroked up and down her back, and her fingers pulled his hair almost painfully. She wrapped her leg around his, pressing her core against his crotch. She touched him everywhere, down his chest, squeezing his ass. Her hands moved as quickly as his. His need to claim her, here in this place that he’d worked so hard for, washed through him and sent all his blood below the belt.

  He fumbled with the tail of her T-shirt. His fingers wouldn’t work. Finally, he yanked the hem out of her skimpy skirt and ripped it over her head. With his hands, he caressed the bare skin of her back. “Damn, you feel so good. I need you so much right now.”

  She moaned and threw her head back, all the encouragement he needed to continue.

  He cupped her breasts, thumbing her nipples through her bra. She arched her back and pressed into his hands. He teased her nipples to stiff peaks, his hands rough on her body. She squeaked when he squeezed too hard, but he pressed an openmouthed kiss to her breast, breathing hot, moist air through her bra.

  He’d never met a woman who could turn him on as quickly as Brittany did—she had become a drug he didn’t want to quit. He wrapped his hands around her back and released her bra, yanking it down her arms and flinging it behind him.

  She grabbed him by the shirt and walked them backwards until she thumped into his desk. After wrenching her skirt up and ripping her panties down, he slid her on top, shoving papers and pencils and other objects onto the floor.

  The scene was so erotic, Brittany, sprawled on his desk, her skirt bunched around her waist. He’d fantasized about her since the day he’d met her, and now she was his. “Damn, Brittany. I need you so bad, I can’t stand it. This is gonna be fast and hard.”

  She licked her lips, all the invitation he needed. He ripped at his belt and jeans, yanking everything down at the same time. With one hand, he fisted his cock while he stroked her with the other.

  “You’re so ready for me, baby.”

  “Always. I don’t know what you’re doing to me. It’s never been like this.”

  He positioned himself at her opening, ready to plunge in, but pulled up short. “Damn. Condom.”

  He kept a hand on her thigh, stroking the satiny skin, while he snatched his wallet out of his pocket. After sheathing himself, he settled between her legs, slammed his mouth down on her, and entered her in one hard stroke.

  “Ah, damn. That feels so good.” Her body gripped him, her channel surrounding him, squeezing him. The sensations overwhelmed him, shooting through his entire body. His knees buckled and he pressed his hands to the desk for support.

  She moaned, the sound resonating from deep inside her. She stared at him through glazed eyes, unfocused as she gave herself over.

  He pulled out and plunged in again. Harder, faster. “I’m not going to last long, babe. You feel too good, and I need you too much.”

  “Take me, Joey. I want you fast.”

  Spurred on by the power of her words, he gripped her hips, keeping her body at the edge of the desk while he thrust over and over. She leaned back on her hands, pressing her breasts into his face and deepening his penetration. His head hung over her shoulder as he struggl
ed to catch his breath, the intensity of their lovemaking overwhelming. With every stroke, he gave himself over to her more and more. He’d never felt this way about anyone, and Brittany had ruined him. There would never be anyone but her.

  Her moans and cries grew louder as she climbed. She dug her nails into his shoulders, her grip tightening with each thrust. He gritted his teeth. No way would he finish before her, but with her channel clenching him, he wouldn’t last much longer. He grabbed her hips and held on, his fingers digging into the soft curves. He shifted her hips toward him, quickening his strokes. “Come on, baby, come for me.”

  Her inner muscles clenched around him, grabbing him like a vise as her entire body trembled. Her jaw hung open and a mewling sound escaped. Covering her mouth with his, he swallowed her cries of pleasure as he climaxed right after her.

  They stayed that way for a long time, their breathing ragged and their connection intimate. Then Joey remembered where they were, with people milling about outside the door. He pulled up his jeans and boxers. “I can’t believe we did that here. I’m sorry.”

  Brittany tilted her head back until her eyes landed on his. “I’m not. I wanted it. I wanted you. And you needed me. Needed this. I’m glad I could be here for you.”

  “Yeah, but in my office where anyone could have walked by and heard us? Or walked in? My staff doesn’t respect a closed door around here.”

  She had a twinkle in her eye as she responded. “That made it more exciting.”

  “It did, huh?” He kissed her, intense but short, before he pulled away and helped her from the desk. They fumbled around for a moment, grabbing clothes. He spied her panties on the floor, both of them reaching for the scrap of fabric at the same time. Smacking her hand away, he snatched them up and shoved them in the front pocket of his jeans.

  “Nuh-uh. I like thinking of you walking around with no panties on.”

  She laughed but didn’t try to grab the scrap of fabric again. He helped her right her skirt and pulled her shirt over her head.