I throw my arms around him. He’s frozen for a moment, but then comes to life with a pained groan and crushes me to his chest. I wrap my legs around his waist and cling to him, so grateful to feel his warmth and strength, so relieved to see him yet terrified he’s hurt himself.
“You’re here,” he whispers, shaking. “You’re here.”
Then he pulls away and frantically starts to check me for injuries, his gaze darting all over my face and body, his hands roaming me, searching for bruises and breaks.
He chokes out, “Your head—I stayed until the doctor said you were stable and then they said you’d been released and I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to me I knew you must hate me so much—”
I kiss him, swallowing his words in my desperation, my palms on his cheeks, the scrape of his unshaven face a rough heaven in my hands. He kisses me back with equal desperation, sobbing when he tries to draw a breath.
“I need to call the paramedics,” I moan against his mouth. “You goddamn fool, you idiot, what the hell were you thinking!”
“Paramedics?” he repeats, freezing.
“The pills!” I cry, gesturing wildly to the empty bottle on the floor.
Brody looks at the bottle, and then back at me. His eyes wet and filled with wonder, he shakes his head. “Honey, no—that’s just a prescription pain reliever, a little stronger than Tylenol. I only took the last two that were in the bottle, not all of them. I just have a headache. Probably because I haven’t eaten in like a week.”
My relief is so overwhelming I can’t speak. I sag against him, bury my face in his neck, and start to cry like a baby.
“You thought I was going to kill myself?” he asks.
“You wouldn’t answer your phone! No one could get a hold of you! You disappeared!”
He whispers, “Oh, witch face, you’re way too hideous to provoke something as dramatic as suicide. I was just having a little mental breakdown. Nothing that would’ve lasted longer than thirty or forty years.”
I cry harder.
He flips me over and takes us down to the bed.
Lying on top of me, he kisses me all over my hot, wet cheeks, murmuring reverently over and over, “You’re here. You’re here.”
“Yes,” I whisper, my whole body trembling as I stare up into his eyes. “I’m here and I’m never leaving. I love you, Brody. I love you. I’m so sorry I left before hearing you out. I’m so sorry I ran away. I know what happened wasn’t your fault, and I’m so sorry about everything—”
He shushes me by pressing a shaking finger on my lips. In a strangled voice, he demands, “Back up. Say that again.”
“I’m never leaving?”
His lids flutter. He exhales a shaky breath. “That’s a really good part, too. But no. The other part. After the ‘never leaving’ and before the sorrys. The part you’ve never said to me before.”
I wind my arms around him, this man that I love, this man Fate led me to not once but twice, this man who’s saved me in so many ways.
This man who saved my life.
“I love you,” I say, gazing deep into his eyes. “I love you, Brody, and though we might have the strangest and most fucked-up love story in the history of love stories, I’m glad I found you. I’m glad we found each other. I don’t want to be away from you ever again.”
When he squeezes his eyes shut, tears slide down his cheeks. He whispers, “Well, then. Welcome home.”
He presses the gentlest kiss to my lips. I arch into him, my body responding as it always does, and the kiss quickly turns passionate. His hands dig into my hair. My fingernails dig into his bare back.
When Kat’s worried call echoes down the hallway from the front door, we hardly even hear it.
THREE MONTHS LATER
“I know. I will. I love you, too, Mom.”
Brody hangs up the phone and immediately turns to me and opens his arms. I step into them, rest my head against his broad chest, and give him a hug. He exhales slowly, his heart thudding against mine. A little tremor runs through his body.
I know from experience that he’ll be needing a lot more hugs today.
Talking to his mother now makes his demons itchy.
We’re in our bedroom in the main house. It’s a Sunday in June, one of those crystal clear, blue-sky-for-miles California days they put on postcards. Magda’s in the kitchen cooking enough food for an army, and delicious smells saturate the air.
I ask, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he answers quietly, stroking a hand over my hair. “She said to tell you she’s really looking forward to meeting you.”
We’re flying to Kansas next week to visit his family. Even his sister and her husband and kids are coming in from Connecticut. It’s the first time Brody will be seeing any of them in person since the news broke, and he’s nervous about it, because he knows how hard it’s been for them, especially his mom. Interest from the press has died down, there are no more camera crews camped out on his mother’s front lawn, but Brody’s younger brother, Branson, has told him about graffiti on the driveway, and nasty phone calls, and how a few of his mother’s old friends will simply turn away now if they see her on the street.
His guilt over all of that is one of the many things we’re working through in our weekly therapy sessions.
Winding my arms around his wide shoulders, I stand up on my toes and kiss him. “I can’t wait to meet her, too. She sounds like a very strong lady.”
Brody smiles. His skin is tanned and his hair has so many highlights it’s not really brown anymore, it’s more of a deep golden blond. When he’s not with me or working, he spends as much time as possible in the ocean, on his surfboard, finding peace and absolution where he can.
He says, “Speaking of strong ladies, did you hear Kenji’s bringing a date?”
I shake my head, smiling. “You and your awful segues. So who’s the lucky guy? You know anything about him?”
“Not a thing,” Brody says. “Kenji’s never brought any of his boyfriends around the band so I have no idea what his taste runs to, but we should be prepared for anything.”
“Well, your house parties do tend to get pretty dramatic, Kong. I’m sure today will be no exception.”
His smile is wry. “Let’s hope not as dramatic as the last one.”
“I doubt anything could ever get as dramatic as that,” I say, chuckling.
“Knock on wood,” Brody agrees, and raps me lightly on the skull with his knuckles.
I’m grateful we can joke about it. The alternative is too depressing.
“Since you brought it up . . .” Looking at him with a sly smile, I reach between his legs and squeeze.
“Are you referring to my magical love wand as ‘wood’?” he asks, brows lifted.
“Anything would be better than ‘magical love wand,’ my dear.”
He grimaces. “And now it’s ‘my dear.’ How old-fashioned. You sound like my grandmother.”
I squeeze again, feeling him growing stiff under my hand. “Really? Your granny gives you a boner, huh?”
He laughs. “Number one, that’s gross and you’re demented, and number two, my granny hasn’t given anyone a boner in about two hundred years.” He stops and blinks. “I hope.”
I tease, “You never know, Mr. Scott, there’s a kink for everything.”
His eyes get hot, his arms tighten around me, and his voice gains that growly, sexy edge I love so much. “We never did explore my teacher-student fantasy, did we?”
Though I pretend nonchalance, my heartbeat picks up its pace, as it always does when he looks at me the way he’s looking at me now. “Hmm. I honestly can’t recall. We’ve had so much sex it all just blends together in my memory, one vague, bland—”
“Bland!” he exclaims, eyes widening. Then his expression changes. The wolf peers out from behind his eyes. His voice dropping another octave, he says, “Oh, sweetheart, you’re gonna pay for that.”
Exactly as I hoped.
He grabs my as
s, pulls me harder against him, and takes my mouth.
I kiss him back hungrily, desire rising as fast as the bulge beneath my palm. There’s always this wonderful craving that simmers between us, a smoldering heat that takes a mere look to erupt into flame. My nipples harden, and I rub my breasts against his chest. He makes a sound low in his throat, threads a hand into my hair and makes a fist, and then pulls my head gently back so he can kiss me even deeper.
Then the doorbell rings, announcing the arrival of the gang.
Brody groans. “They have the worst timing!”
“Agreed,” I breathe. “Let’s tell Magda to turn the sprinklers on them, buy us a few minutes.”
He bites my lower lip, and then runs his tongue over it, teasing away the sting. “We’re gonna need a lot longer than a few minutes for what I’ve got planned for you,” he says softly, eyes glowing.
Now it’s my turn to groan.
Brody gives my ass a light slap and smiles. “C’mon, Slick. Time to play hostess.”
“I’d rather be playing Hot for Teacher,” I grouse.
I get a soft kiss on my cheek. “Later,” he whispers seductively into my ear, giving rise to goose bumps all over my skin.
The doorbell rings again.
When I mutter a curse, Brody laughs. He takes me by the hand and pulls me from the room.
A few moments later we’re greeting Kat, Nico, A.J., Chloe, Abby, Barney, and Kenji at the front door.
And a stunning, petite Asian girl who Kenji introduces as his date, London.
“Hello! Welcome!” I say to her, vigorously shaking her hand as I try not to fall over in shock. Judging by the way she’s looking at me, she probably thinks I’m a lunatic.
“Thank you so much for having me. Your home is beautiful,” she says politely, in a low, melodic voice created to make angels weep.
She’s dressed in a body-skimming gold jacquard sheath dress, knee-length and sleeveless, that accents her slender figure to perfection. Her black hair is pulled back in a sleek chignon, which shows off her long, elegant neck, incredible cheekbones, and flawless skin. Her eyes are dark and huge, canted up at the corners like a doe’s.
She looks ready for an evening at the opera, not a beach barbeque with a bunch of rowdy musicians and their significant others.
Standing right behind her, Kenji smirks at me. “Oh, close your gaping mouth, lovey, you’ll catch flies.”
Wearing a long, royal blue caftan with a burgundy chest sash and a lot of chunky gold jewelry, his bald head polished to a mirror sheen, he steps forward and hugs me.
I whisper into his ear, “I have questions.”
Giggling, he whispers back, “I’ll bet you do.”
“The main one being, why are you dressed like Yul Brynner from The King and I?”
Pulling away, he throws his arms wide and says, “Aha! That’s exactly what I was going for! Oh, I’m so good.” Then he makes a low, sweeping bow, and comes up grinning.
With a disarming giggle, London says something to him in what sounds like Japanese.
Kenji blushes. He blushes, from his neck clear up to the top of his smooth head.
God, I can’t wait to get to know this girl better.
“Everybody come in,” invites Brody from behind me, resting his hand on my lower back. “Where are Ethan and Chris?”
Nico gives both of us a hug, and then says, “They drove separately. Said they had to stop by some chick’s house on the way over to pick something up.”
“Probably a few STDs,” mutters Kat under her breath, and then throws her arms around me.
I hug her back, laughing. “Those two really do everything together, don’t they?”
A.J., holding Abby in his arms, snorts. “You have no idea.”
“Nor do I want to. Kat, you look amazing.”
When she pulls away, she’s got color in her cheeks and a mysterious light in her eyes. “Do I? Must be the new skin cream I’m using.”
When Nico laughs, wraps his arms around her shoulders, and kisses her on the neck, I think I must be missing something. I share a look with Chloe, who shrugs.
She comes forward to embrace Brody and me, and then I look at Barney and hold out my arms.
“C’mere, big guy. Bring it in.”
With his slight limp and a lopsided smile, he strolls over and hugs me, briefly but hard. “You’re looking pretty amazing yourself, Angelface,” he murmurs.
“Yeah, happiness’ll do that for a girl. You doing good? I haven’t talked to you in a while.”
When we disentangle, he’s nodding. “I was just telling the rest of the crew on the way over my big news.”
“News? What news?”
He looks proud but a little sheepish when he says, “That I got a new gig. I won’t be with the band after next month.”
I’m floored. The thought of Barney not being with the band is like . . . I don’t even know what. Peanut butter without jelly? Batman without Robin? Bogie without Bacall?
“Wow, that’s . . .” I bite my tongue so I don’t say “horrible.” “I’m happy for you, Barney. What will you be doing?”
“Working with a high-level security outfit based in Manhattan called Metrix. It’s run by this badass ex–Special Ops guy who provides personal security for a lot of heavy hitters. They specialize in extractions.”
I repeat cautiously, “Extractions?”
Barney smiles. “You don’t wanna know.”
Funny enough, though, I do. I’m not sure how I feel about him leaving. Part of me is worried that it has something to do with me.
Barney sees my expression and says softly, “It was just time to make a change, Angelface.”
There’s more to it, I can tell, but with everyone standing around all I can say is, “I’ll miss you.”
He looks at Brody, smiles, and then glances back at me. “I’ll miss you, too. It’s gonna be your job to keep this bozo in line now.”
Brody sniffs. “Tch. I’m a fucking delight.”
Then suddenly Kat screams.
Everyone jumps and turns to look at her. Her eyes wide, she points at my left hand. “Omigod. Omigod. Is that what I think it is?”
Blinking innocently, I raise my hand and wave it around like a jewelry model. “Oh, this old thing?”
Kenji crows, “Called it! I knew there was a reason we were celebrating today!”
Brody laughs, grabs me from behind, and pulls me against his chest. “Okay, so maybe this wasn’t just a random weekend get-together.”
Chloe takes my hand and stares at the diamond ring on my finger. It’s exactly what I wanted, understated in size but with a flawless brilliant-cut center stone that catches all the light and scatters it into a million tiny rainbow beams.
“Holy shit sticks, Grace! You guys got engaged? Congratulations!”
She throws her arms around Brody and me. Then Kat does the same, jumping and squealing in glee, and everyone starts laughing and talking at once.
Until Magda rounds the corner from the kitchen and shouts, “Ai!”
When we turn to look at her, she gestures into the kitchen with the spatula in her hand. In Spanish, she demands, “Are you monkeys all just going to stand there making noise, or come in and eat?”
She disappears back around the corner.
Still laughing, Kat says, “Magda’s a little scary, you guys know that, right?”
“A little?” repeats Kenji, hand at his throat. “The woman makes Godzilla look like a bunny rabbit. What did she shout at us?”
“I think she wants us to go get some food,” suggests Brody. When I turn to him with a brow lifted, he shrugs. “I’m getting better at deciphering the insults.”
I say, “All right, gang, everybody to the patio before Magda starts throwing things.”
We troop through the house and out onto the patio into the sunny afternoon, everyone happily chatting, Kenji and London holding hands. Chloe has dressed Abby in an outfit that matches hers, a yellow sundress covered in tiny
daisies, but Abby also has a headband with a big fake sunflower teetering over one ear. A beaming A.J. follows with his hand on Chloe’s shoulder as she leads the way.
Under the shade of white umbrellas, Kenji and London settle into a pair of chaise lounges by the pool and instantly fall into a deep conversation. The rest of us gather at the long wood dining table Brody and I eat our meals at when the weather’s good. It’s shaded by umbrellas, too, set off to one side of the patio where the view of the ocean is unimpeded by palm trees.
“So have you guys made any plans for the wedding yet?” asks Chloe, taking the baby from A.J. so he can relax.
Sitting beside me, Brody wraps an arm around my waist and smiles. “Not really. Grace doesn’t want a big to-do, so we were thinking something small. Maybe just have it here, with you guys. I’d fly out my mom and brother and sister, but other than that I think we’re going for the intimate vibe.”
Nodding, A.J. says, “Yeah, we’re thinking the same thing. Keep it small. Just family.”
Surprised, we all look at him. Over the past months, neither he nor Chloe have brought up the subject of their wedding. Every time Kat or I have asked her, she’s just shrugged and said, “We’re not in a rush,” or “It’ll happen when it happens.”
Trying not to make a big deal of it, Kat says jokingly, “You guys should have a double wedding!”
Blushing, Chloe kisses Abby’s head. She says softly, “If we could pull it off before I start showing, that would be great.”
Wide-eyed, Kat and I look at each other, and then at Chloe. Kat breathes, “Honey . . . you’re pregnant?”
As if we couldn’t already tell by the smug, chest-thumping look A.J.’s wearing.
Chloe nods. “Seven weeks. A.J.’s convinced it’s a boy this time.”
A.J. says, “Oh, it’s a boy all right. I know this woman’s body better than I know my own. She’s carrying my son.” He throws a huge arm around her waist, drags her against him, and gives her a passionate kiss as the baby squeals happily in her arms.
Everyone congratulates them. Laughing, Barney slaps A.J. on the back.
Sin With Me (Bad Habit) Page 33
