by Wendy Vella
“Branna.”
She turned as he spoke, hearing the urgency in his voice.
“There’s—”
“Hello, Branna.”
He was too late; D.J. O’Donnell had arrived in Howling.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The smile fell from Branna’s face as she looked at her father. Her fingers clenched around Jake’s before she released his hand and took a step backward.
“What are you doing here?” Her words were hoarse.
“I came to see my daughter. I heard you sing. You were amazing.”
He spoke with the same soft burr that she did, and those eyes were Branna’s too. The deep green pools that had sucked Jake in from the first glance he’d taken of her.
“Why would you want to be my father now?”
“Branna, love, let me—”
“You’ll leave here now; I have no need for you.”
“Branna—” Jake tried to stop her from walking away, but it was too late. She was running through the crowds, and was soon swallowed up.
“We’ll go after her, you take him,” Buster said, preparing to follow with Annabelle and Ethan.
Jake was torn. He wanted to comfort Branna, because she was his first concern, but he didn’t want Declan O’Donnell to leave until he’d spoken to him about a few things, which was what he appeared to be doing. His tall figure was making its way back through the crowds, back the way he had come.
“Stay with her till I get there.” Jake ran after O’Donnell, finding him with one hand braced on the wall of The Hoot. His head was lowered, and his breath was rushing in and out of his body.
“Did you expect that to go any differently?” Jake said, coming to a halt behind him. “It was never in the cards that she’d fall into your arms crying, ‘Daddy, I’ve missed you.’”
The man straightened to his full height and tried to glare at Jake, which was ruined by the devastation on his face.
“Who the hell are you and why were you holding my daughter’s hand?”
“I’m the man who she told that her father never forgave her for killing the only woman he’d ever loved. The man who held her when she said she was responsible for the death of her mother.”
If he’d hit Declan O’Donnell, the pain would have hurt him less. His shoulders slumped, and even in the growing dark, Jake could see the pallor of his cheeks.
“Someone broke into her house a few nights ago, while she was sleeping, but she woke and ran to me, and do you know what she said to herself while she ran frightened and alone?” Jake continued talking at the man, needing him to know what he’d done to his only child. His anger was simmering, but he had it under control.
“Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear—not absence of fear.”
“The very words, Mr. O’Donnell, and do you know what has become of your daughter because you turned your back on her?”
“No,” he was broken, a defeated man as Jake struck yet another blow. “I didn’t turn my back on her.”
“She’s locked herself away,” Jake said, ignoring his words. “Away from any emotional entanglements, and I would lay most of the blame for that at your feet.”
This man had failed in his duty as a parent. Failed to provide love when his daughter wanted it most, and because in his own life he’d had that in abundance, Jake could only imagine what it was like to have none.
“Jake?”
His father and mother appeared at his side.
“You remember Declan O’Donnell?” He nodded to the man before him. Manners having been drummed into him from birth, he then made the introductions. “Mr. O’Donnell, these are my parents, Patrick and Nancy McBride.” Jake watched his father shake the man’s hand.
“I remember you both from my time here,” Declan O’Donnell said in a tired voice.
“Are you staying in Howling for a while, Mr. O’Donnell?”
“I had hoped to, but am uncertain at this stage.”
“You can stay with us.”
Both Jake and his father looked at Nancy McBride with raised eyebrows.
“We have that spare room downstairs with a bathroom attached; he can settle in there.”
“Mom, I don’t think—”
“Jake, I don’t know what has happened between Branna and her father, but to my mind, they need some time to fix it.”
“I’m not sure it’s fixable, Mom.”
“Shouldn’t we help them at least try?”
“I’m sure he can stay in town at the Howler,” Jake added.
“It’s booked fully at this time, especially with the carnival on tonight,” Nancy McBride added.
She was right, Jake knew that; he just didn’t know how Branna would feel about her father staying with his parents.
“Do you have a car, Mr. O’Donnell?”
“I do, but I can just as easily find a place out of Howling to stay, Mr. McBride.”
“Howling counts your daughter as one of theirs and as you’re famous, we’ve claimed you too, so if word gets out you’re staying in another town, it won’t be pretty. My advice is to just follow along with my wife’s wishes, Mr. O’Donnell.”
“Very well.”
Before Jake could protest, his parents had gathered up the man and his father was driving his car back to their house. Jake said he’d follow soon, but first he needed to check on Branna.
Fifteen minutes later, after a text from Buster, he walked into his friend’s house. It had been his parents’ first, until they’d decided to retire and travel around the world. Beige weatherboard with a stone front, it had a tidy front lawn with a large green leafy tree and a nice little fence that said it should be a family home, which was exactly what it had been for years. Now it was the home of single man who was a slob.
“Annabelle, I’m not baking her a mystery muffin now just because she’s upset.”
Jake heard Buster’s frustration as he walked in through the front door. Vaulted ceilings and plank floors led him towards the voices. Stepping over shoes, books, boxes, and baking stuff, he found Buster, Tex, and Annabelle in the only immaculate room in the entire house, the kitchen; of Branna, there was no sign.
“Where is she?”
“In the bathroom,” Ethan said. “And she hasn’t spoken a word, or cried a tear. Just sat in the car, still as a bloody statue, staring out the windshield. I tell you, Jake, it was sadder than seeing her break down. We tried to talk to her, Annabelle, Buster and I, and she responded, but only one-syllable answers. She didn’t resist or protest, just let us bring her here, walked inside and straight into the bathroom, after asking Buster politely where it was.”
He saw the worry in their faces. They cared for Branna now, she was one of theirs and it hurt that she was in pain and they couldn’t help her.
“This business with her dad is pretty messy.” Jake ran a hand through his hair. “Mom and Dad have taken him to their house.”
Tex whistled and Annabelle swore loudly.
“Yeah, not ideal and I’m not sure how she’ll cope with that news.”
“Go find out, Jake. She’s been in there a while now,” Buster said.
He did, climbing the stairs to the bathroom Buster had directed her to…the guest one that was probably still clean.
“Branna, it’s me, Jake.”
“I’ll be out soon.” Her words were muffled through the wood.
“Open the door, Rosebud.”
“Go away, Jake, I just need a minute.”
“Now, Branna.”
“No.”
“Yes, or I’ll break it down and Buster will be pissed.”
“You wouldn’t!”
He didn’t answer, instead waiting silently. Seconds later, he heard the lock click, then the door opened.
She’d left off her shoes, and stood before him looking lost and alone and so small it made him hurt. “Hey, you.” She bit her bottom lip and fought the tears, so he pushed harder. “Want a hug?”
“W-we’re, not huggers,
you and m-me.”
“Sure we are. Why, just tonight I gave you one before you went up on that big scary stage. How about we give it another try?”
“I-I just want to be alone, Jake, please.” The sniff was loud in an effort to keep the tears at bay.
“That’s not how this relationship thing works, sweetheart.”
“We’re n-not in a relationship.” Her knuckles were white on the door.
He reached for her before she had a chance to close it. Pulling her into the hallway, he wrapped his arms around her and held tight. “It’s a relationship, Rosebud, pure and simple.” The words felt right, so Jake stopped fighting and held his woman. She kept herself rigid, but he just held her tighter, until she slumped into him, resting her head on his chest.
“Why is he here, Jake?”
“To see you, Branna, his daughter.”
“He didn’t want me before. Why now?”
This was a minefield that needed careful navigation. “Branna, he’s not going anywhere till he talks to you, and right now my mother’s settling him into their house.”
“What?” She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.
“My mother saw me talking to your dad and she stepped in; next thing, they’re driving off.”
“I don’t want him there.”
“It’s done, sweetheart, changing my mother’s mind is not something you’d want to take on; believe me, I’ve tried many times with little success.”
She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes sad. “It just about kills me to see that look in your eyes.”
“I’m okay; it was just a surprise after all this time to see him again.”
He kissed her, soft and sweet, and her lips clung to his and told him she was anything but okay.
“How long’s it been since you saw him?”
“Five years. We had a fight and then he went away for good and I don’t want him here, Jake. The last time we spoke we both said horrible things, nasty hurtful things a-and I can’t do that again.”
If Declan O’Donnell walked into Buster’s house right at that moment, he’d take him apart, no questions asked, no explanations given; he’d destroy him for the pain he’d caused the woman in his arms. She’d arrived in Howling to make a home, and her garden and house had been trashed, and now her father had arrived. She was tough, but everyone had a breaking point.
“Annabelle’s trying to convince Buster to bake you a mystery muffin, and he’s resisting, but my money’s on her.”
She huffed out a breath, but didn’t move.
“I don’t want this, Jake. I came here to rebuild my life and find some peace. I want to write and nothing else.”
“The sex is good, though, you have to admit?”
“Average.”
“I need to put a bit more effort in, obviously.”
“Make him go away, Jake.” She sounded defeated.
“Let me know when you’re done being pathetic, and we’ll head down for coffee.”
She rested against him for a few more minutes, and then with another sigh, she pulled out of his arms. “I’m done.”
“That’s my girl.” Jake gave her another kiss, then took her hand and they headed back down the stairs.
“Buster’s house is really cluttered, considering The Hoot is so pristine.”
“His mother said he was born with slothful tendencies, but when he’s in the kitchen, he becomes a domestic goddess; it’s one of life’s little mysteries.”
Buster was muttering and putting a tray into the oven, while Annabelle made coffee when they entered. Tex had flicked on the T.V. and had his feet up on the coffee table.
“Fifteen minutes, Branna, and you better eat them.” Buster shut the oven and threw down the oven mitt. “And, no, you can’t have the recipe.”
“You ever thought of hiring a cleaner?” Annabelle stepped over a pile of what appeared to be aprons.
“It’s my home; if you don’t like it, leave.”
Jake pulled out a bar stool for Branna, and took the one beside her. Together, they listened to Buster and Annabelle bicker, with Jake tossing in the occasional comment and all the while he knew she was thinking, that sharp little brain of hers working out how she could avoid all contact with her father.
Jake woke the following morning and reached for Branna. It was something he did instinctively before opening his eyes. Feeling her body still soft from sleep, running his hands over it and hearing her sigh was a thing of wonder. However, this morning the space beside him was cold and empty.
Climbing out of bed, he found a pair of shorts and pulled them on, then made for the bathroom, where he washed and brushed his teeth. The kitchen, which incidentally was empty of women, smelled of coffee. Filling a mug, he walked through the rooms and still there was no sign of her. Opening the door, he headed outside and around the house towards the barn. If she’d gone for a run without him, he’d throw around a few weights before fixing breakfast.
He heard the radio as he entered, and found her under the hood of Geraldine. She wore one of his T-shirts, which had ridden up, and a pair of panties, and he wished he had a camera because he’d make a shit load of money with that one single shot. Not that he’d sell it; it’d be for his eyes only.
“Rosebud, you know how most mornings I wake ready for anything?”
She straightened at his words. Hair a mess, smudge of grease on her chin, a wrench in one hand.
“What?”
“Seeing you like that is not helping my condition.”
Her eyes went to his crotch, then shot back up to the smile he now had on his face. Very slowly, she put the wrench down, and lowered the hood of the car.
“I was just checking her over. Dan, Georgie’s husband, taught me to do a service on her, so I was,” she licked her lips as he started towards her. “Doing the service.”
“Need any help with that…service?”
“Ha, that was cheesy, even from you.” She started backing away, moving around the car as he stalked her.
“Hot woman dressed in nothing but a T-shirt and panties, with a wrench in her hand and grease on her chin. Tell me any man who hasn’t fantasized about that?”
She kept walking around the car and he followed every step.
“I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake you, so I came out here. I-I like tinkering with Geraldine, always did.”
“How about tinkering with me instead?”
“Will you stop that? You sound like you’re making a bad porn movie.”
She was backing herself into a corner, between the workbench and the back wall of the barn, but hadn’t worked that out yet.
“Now how does a good little Irish girl know about that kind of thing?”
It was good to see the worry gone from her eyes, if only for a while. The green depths were definitely heating as he drew closer, and Jake was so hard, each step was uncomfortable. She bumped into the workbench and turned to see what she’d hit and he made his move, caging her in with his arms and body.
“What are you doing, Jake?”
The pulse in her neck was racing, so he put his lips there.
“Well now, sweetheart, I’d hoped after all the practice we’ve had, you’d know what it was.”
Jake slipped his hands under the shirt and eased them upwards, taking the shirt with him.
“S-someone might come in.”
“I’m hoping they won’t stay long.” Pulling it over her head, he gripped her waist and boosted her onto the bench.
“Don’t suppose you’d stay there while I got my camera?”
“Will you stop talking!” She grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged, bringing him closer.
The kiss was deep and their tongues danced as he eased her hips forward. Her hands held his head as they took and gave whatever the other had to give. They were both struggling for breath when he broke the kiss.
“Behind you, there’s the back of the bench, grip it tight, baby.” She did as he asked and Jake b
egan a slow torturous journey over every inch of her chest, his mouth caressing the slopes of her breasts and circling the nipples that were hard and ready for his mouth. He teased her by touching everywhere but the dark circles.
“Jake!” his laugh blew heat over one nipple as he finally gave her what she wanted and sucked the aching bud deep into his mouth. She arched into him, her legs clamping around his hips.
“Don’t let go, baby.”
She was panting, little breaths of need as he pulled her legs from his waist, then slowly removed her panties.
“I need you now, Jake.”
“Soon, Rosebud, you got to let me fulfill my fantasy.”
He cruised his lips over the smooth skin of her stomach and through the thatch of black hair to where she needed him most. Her scent drove him crazy, as did the taste of her. He licked the soft pink folds and the tight bud and she jerked upwards.
“Now.”
“Don’t let go, Branna.” He teased the damp flesh, stroked and nibbled and the tension inside her rose as she began to make those sweet little noises that drove him crazy.
“You bastard, McBride, I said now!”
He laughed as he pulled off his shorts and then grabbing her hips, he thrust inside that wet tight heat. He rode her hard, and she met each thrust, urging him on until she screamed loud and long in his ear as he grunted in hers. He fell face-first into her lap, and she slumped backward, both breathing heavily.
When they could both breathe and think again, he lifted her down, holding her against his chest.
“You okay?”
She managed a dry laugh.
“I don’t think I need a run this morning.”
They showered, ate, and then he said he had some errands to do in town.
“I need to head home, Jake, I have work to do.”
That suited him just fine, as he had something he needed to do to, and not having her with him would make it easier. He walked into his parents’ house an hour later.
“Son.” His dad was sitting at the table drinking coffee with O’Donnell.
“Dad,” Jake poured himself a cup and took the seat next to him. “Mr. O’Donnell.”
