by Susan Arden
The man pummeled his fists into him. His stomach, ribs, chest, and then he clocked him in the jaw and again in along the cheekbone. Brett tried to duck—unsuccessfully. That was the only thing Brett could do, as the other brother, Rory, kicked him in the shin and boxed the side of his head. He refused to fight back. Fuck, no, he wasn’t going to defend himself and lay into these guys. The last time he did that he was arrested. Once he got going, he didn’t seem capable of stopping. Over and again, Cory’s brothers punched him and he kept his fists down.
When they were out of breath and he was one massive bruise, Brett leaned against the stall wall. “I don’t even know what the hell I’ve done,” he said through gritted teeth. “Mind telling me why your sister won’t talk to me, and you two seem hell bent on kicking the shit out of me?”
The older guy delivered a razing stare at him. “You telling us, you’re too stupid to realize what you said? To the newspaper people and the news?”
“We ought to kick your ass again on principle,” Rory volunteered.
“Which brother are you?” Brett asked the chaps wearing dude.
The other man appeared to contemplate him for a beat before finally answering. “Brandon McLemore. I take it you’re here to talk some sense into Cory. Considering you’ve got shit for brains, how do you plan on doing that?”
“You’re wrong on several accounts. Most importantly, I didn’t do anything to offend Cory! She up and left as I was talking on the phone. Mind telling me what got her going, and then you guys can finish what you’ve started.”
Brandon bent over and picked up his hat. He dusted it off on the side of his chaps. As he adjusted it on his head, he inhaled. “Rory, did he take a swing at you when you roughed him up?”
“Nah. The jackweed didn’t have a chance.”
Brandon nodded. “So, you don’t raise your fists when a man attacks you. Two men, and you just take it. That makes you a whipped pussy…or someone who won’t hurt the family of the woman who’s got him driving for hours, and trying to figure out why she won’t speak to him.”
Brett stared back at Cory’s brothers. “Yeah. What about it?”
The man threw back his head and laughed. “You’re fucked. Oh hell, most of us have been there. Except him.” He jerked a thumb over to Rory. “But sure as shit, most men I know have gone off the deep end on account of some woman. And,” he drawled in a long breath, “my sister, God love her, I suspect could write a book on how to fricassee a man, but good.”
“No argument there,” Brett carefully agreed, mindful of any sudden movements as he watched them both staring back at him.
Rory looked confused. “You just gonna let him sit there? Brandon, we can’t let him disrespect Cory.”
“I don’t think it’s up to us to crucify a man over his past,” Brandon shrugged. “Rory, one day this will all make sense. For now, you’re going to have to trust me.”
“I take it Cory is upset over my past?” He grimaced at the flaring pain in his cheek, then twisted his jaw from side to side to see if it still worked.
CHAPTER 20
Cory climbed out of the car, her stomach twisted into a thousand knots, and she was in no mood to deal with anyone. She half nodded to Brandon as he lifted a piece of luggage from the back of the SUV. “Hey,” she mumbled.
“You’ve a visitor waiting inside,” Brandon informed her. “Name of Brett Gold and he’s getting some ice.” From the expression on her brother’s face, her heart began to clatter nervously. She raced over the walkway and scaled the front steps, tearing into the house and skid into the kitchen. Brett stood leaning up against the counter, and drying his hands.
“What are you doing here, and what the heck happened?” Cory felt her eyes go wide, unable to decide if she was elated or scared witless.
A third possibility had been freaking angry as hell, but that had run its course during the three hours of talk therapy she’d gotten on the drive home from Dallas. Thanks to Gillian and Carolina and Stephen and Matt and everyone else who chimed in on the matter. It had become talk- and text-worthy, and she swore if anyone tweeted about her or posted something to FB, she’d tan their hides. She’d experienced enough social media stupidity when she just had to look via her cellphone and find out what in the world those reporters were talking about with the phrase body issue.
And she’d gotten an eyeful of the women who Brett had ‘dated,’ if that was even the proper term. Actresses, centerfold models that included many months of the year, a boatload of women. Literally, it was a party boat and he was featured surrounded by women in skimpy outfits. And there were the features on the field fights and a bar incident a few weeks ago. His life looked pretty out of control if she stopped and didn’t look further. But that’s not what she was known for in her quest to gain market recognition in her small venture into capitalism via her online accessories store.
She looked for other signs of life, one that Brett undertook to make his mother proud. They were too close for him to be a party animal through and through. And if someone wanted to see past all the nonsense, another side to Brett Gold existed. One where he was involved in the Juvenile Justice System in a program to help youth turn their lives around. Another program was for those with learning impairments, specifically dyslexia. He gave his time and his money, in fundraisers for learning resources for schools and research. Grants like the one her professor had acquired. It took people like Brett, besides huge corporations, to enable the study of societal problems.
“I ran into your brothers,” he said.
“Oh.” It was all she could manage. His face was badly bruised, one eye swollen, and his lip cut. She gazed down at his hands. Not a scratch. Well, not any new ones. She’d seen enough men in her time to know what to expect after a knock-down, drag-out fight. “What the heck did you use to defend yourself…besides your face?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m confused why my life upsets you. It’s the past. I’ve not done anything so horrific that you should have to run away.”
“Brett, I’m sorry. I heard what those reporters said. And you acted weird around the cheerleaders. I wanted to tell you. I guess I should have…I’m not jealous. Not so much, if you’re upfront with me. But, it felt all wrong. Hearing about that side of you without any warning, when all I’ve ever known was someone so different. I didn’t know what to think.”
“We should be able to talk about things. Not shut down. That’s all I meant. I don’t want to do this dating thing. ”
A searing ache settled in the pit of her stomach and she froze. He came here—all this way—to tell her to forget it. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she pressed her lips together, staring up into his emerald eyes. “So, you drove all this way to say…what? Goodbye? Is doing that face-to-face so important?”
His eyes widened and then he shook his head. “No. I’m not here to say goodbye. I want you to be my girlfriend. I meant to ask you and intended on talking with you tonight as we drove over. I don’t want us to be just dating. You’re mine. I have no intention on sharing.”
“And what about me? Am I supposed to share you?”
“No!” He faced her, his face battered and bruised, and reached for her, pulling her to him. She couldn’t resist. Not this close. “I want so much more than even this. But I know you’ve got plans. Our worlds aren’t exactly in the same playing field, but we can make this work. I’m sure as hell willing to try. When I’m with you, it all feels right.”
She didn’t want to let him go. And seeing him this raw and open only made her want him that much more. “I overreacted.”
“Don’t do it again.”
“You didn’t call,” she began, searching his face. “Is it because I said not to?”
“If you tell me not to call you, why would I? Besides, I wanted to see you and talk with you. In front of me.”
“Let’s get some ice for your eye. Looks like it hurts. It doesn’t seem like you fought back.”
<
br /> “I’ve had years of training not to fight back under threat of penalty.”
“That takes a lot of character.” She squeezed his arm, fighting to keep herself from throwing herself at him. “So you met Rory.”
“And Brandon,” he supplied.
“Brandon hit you?” she asked, filling a plastic bag with ice cubes. “Dammit, I’m going to give him a piece of my—”
Brett interrupted her. “It’s over. Done. They care about you. That’s the only thing to discuss.”
“Do you want to discuss it? My brothers and their macho attitudes?”
“No. I only meant rhetorically.”
“Pretty words,” she whispered, pressing the ice against his face. “Why did you come all this way?”
“Already told you. This wasn’t something I was prepared to let go. Would you have just walked away?”
“I thought I could. Then I realized it wasn’t possible. Every mile away, I felt my insides twisting and I had planned on going up to my room and calling you.”
“I’m not sorry I came here, then.” He took hold of the bag of ice from her hand and set it on the counter.
“Not even with what you’ve been through?” She whispered, scanning his face that still had yet to crack a smile.
“Take it as a lesson. I respect your wishes as much as I can and if there’s a loop hole, I’ll go for it. Even if it means I get a beat down. Seeing your smile is a win tonight.”
“Oh, cowboy, the night is still young. Don’t think it’s over. Not yet.” She removed her cellphone and pressed the dial.
“What now?” Stephen answered.
“Can I come over?” she asked, biting her lip.
“Are you crazy? I’m here, finally alone with my fiancée. What do you need?”
“I’m with a friend.”
“Shit,” he said. “I heard Brett had come and met up with Brandon and Rory. You owe him so much. I’d have dumped you and been long gone by now.”
“I know. That’s why I want to come over. We need a place to be.”
“Well it sure as heck isn’t here. No, Cory. Our mother will have my head. Sorry. I’m putting my foot down. Good night.”
Stephen hung up on her. She gazed down at her phone, taking a deep breath and deciding on her next move. Rory still lived at home. Matt and Carolina had house guests. There was the hunting cabin but they’d have to go by horse and, turning to look at Brett, that was asking way too much. She pressed speed dial number four.
“What’s up?” Brandon asked.
“You owe me,” she began, twirling her hair around her finger.
“Oh, do I. Sis, I paid my bill in full as of this afternoon.”
“Brandon, you owe me and don’t argue. Brett didn’t deserve what you gave him. I don’t know why you and Rory had to go off on him. Like that.”
“What, is he crying?” Brandon asked.
“Don’t even start. If he’d fought back, you’d be the one crying.”
Brandon went silent for a few seconds. “Out of idle curiosity, what is it that you want?”
“I know you won’t be home tonight or even back by tomorrow. This is your Friday night.”
“I don’t like the sound of this, but go on,” her brother growled.
“You going to Clarkesville?”
Brandon exhaled. “What. Do. You. Want?”
She answered in a rush of words, “To borrow your place, or more specifically, your spare bedroom.”
“Nah,” he snapped. “I can’t do that. Our mother will string me up good.”
“If you don’t, I’ll tell her just why you take off Sunday through Tuesday morning.”
“What do you know about that?”
“Have you forgotten that I went to school with Selma and Esmie?”
“You really are something, aren’t you?” Her brother let out a low whistle. He did that when he was thinking. Unrelenting, she pressed on, sensing victory was near.
“That’s what they said…both of them, about you. I know you have a side thing going on in Clarkesville. Something to do with an exclusive establishment and might involve two sisters. Preacher’s daughters and it doesn’t get any better than that in getting this whole county upset, not to mention a whole congregation in Clarkesville.”
“Corinth, you wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh brother. Care to wager?” She wouldn’t tell a soul, but Brandon was still talking. She didn’t know exactly what he was into with her friends, but it was enough to have Selma and Esmie blushing and stuttering about meeting up with him in Clarkesville when she’d asked why they had his photograph on both their phones as in screensaver.
“No. But you’re still not coming to my house.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Cory, stop,” Brett whispered.
“Wait,” she mouthed, holding up her hand.
“It ain’t right. But here’s what you can do. Travis is on the road. I’ve been taking care of his place. It’s quiet, and you know no one will bother you over there. The key is under the flower pot on his porch.”
“Thank you. I’m moving you up from number four on my speed dial.”
“Don’t do me any favors. If anything, move me down the list or right completely off. I’m serious, Cory.”
She’d watched Brett in front of her, across the island in the kitchen as she spoke to her brother. Brett’s broad shoulders and narrow hips cut a breathtaking shape from the light recessed falling behind him on the counter. He held her attention and anticipation raced in her bloodstream. She walked over to him until they were standing toe-to-toe.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Calling around to find a place where we can be alone.”
“Cory, I don’t need you begging to find a place for us to go. There’s a hotel about forty-five minutes away.”
“Is that what you want to do? Drive all the way over there when my cousin lives not five minutes away?”
He exhaled. “Not when you look at me that way.”
Brett didn’t lean in as she’d expected. He’d held his ground ever since seeing her. Something was still bugging him and shoot, he had a right to be upset. But so did she. “How am I looking at you?”
“Like when we first met. Ready to run a set of claws down me.”
“I’d like to leave some claw marks on you, if you were up to it.”
“I’d not complain.”
She decided to take the first step and lifted her hand to his face. All the while she kept her gaze trained on his eyes. The way his steady gaze consumed her was inescapable. She rubbed her thumb over his jaw where a streak of dirt bordered a mean-looking welt. “I should have called. I was out of line to run away.”
He growled, “You think? I should do something so you can never do that again.”
Her breath hitched from the smoldering stare he leveled on her. Then she lifted one shoulder. “And how on earth would you do that?”
Brett’s gaze dropped for a blink, then he lifted his eyes and met hers. He tipped her face up to him. “You said you trusted me.”
“I do.” She pulled herself closer to him. His body was an inferno and lit a fire in between her legs.
“Do you really believe that I was trying to improve my reputation by dating you?” She noticed a flicker in his eyes. Pain, and then it was gone, but not before it pricked her.
Without hesitating, she said, “I don’t think so. No.”
“So, you just went with a fly by the seat of your pants feeling?”
She stared at him. It was true. “Pretty much.”
His lips curved slightly, mockingly. “That means it’s the seat of your pants where the problem resides.”
“So you want to have at the seat of my pants,” she snorted, then gasped. It suddenly dawned on her where this was headed and her face went all sorts of hot. She swallowed. “I’ve never done anything like that.”
“I did
n’t think so,” he whispered, his voice dropping down low, a gravelly caress over her skin.
When he placed his hands on her hips, pulling her up against him, the feeling was overpowering. He leaned over her and lifted her hair. Dipping his head, he brushed his mouth over her ear. Taking the delicate shell into his mouth, he bit down with enough pressure to make her moan out loud. She hooked her fingers into his belt loops to keep herself from staggering backwards. “You might like a little pain. It might help you to remember. Maybe tonight you need a lesson on what it means to act impulsively. You said you trusted me.”
“What are you saying?” She pushed her hands up from the waist of his pants, away from his zipper that she wanted to lower and take hold of him. This magnetic draw to him had ramped up, more so given her hands were on him, running over the contours she’d begun to memorize. She didn’t want this to end. God, she’d done enough impulsive things in her life; if what he offered was to spank her, she ached to feel it.
“Let me show you what it means to trust me.”
“I trust you.”
He held her chin, meeting her eyes. “I won’t do anything to hurt you. Ever.”
A shaky breath slipped from her mouth. “I believe you.”
~~~
Inside the spare bedroom of her cousin’s house, with the door locked, Brett had Cory naked and over his lap. “This is just so you know what to expect if you ever put yourself in danger again. You could have gotten hurt or worse. If you want to leave, I’ll drive you where you want to go or make arrangements to get you transported safely.”
“Yes.” She arched up to look over her shoulder and he held her down, his hand rubbing a circle over her thigh, her bottom and back around. He stopped; his hand lifted and a half-formed thought about him relenting flashed through her mind.
And smack! Her brain buzzed with an explosion of light tinged by jagged pain. Biting and then she realized it was the skin on her bottom that stung. Red-hot and he did it again. To the other side.
“Please,” she hissed. Eyes closed. “That hurts.”
