by D. C. Stone
Brooke slowly sat on the couch, bent to retrieve her running shoes, and slipped them on, taking her time in tying the knot. She still wasn’t sure this was a good idea and almost wanted to give it another day.
The sound of a plate meeting the coffee table drew her attention to Hilda, who had entered the room and gave her a smile, one meant to reassure, she knew, but damn if she felt anything of the sort.
“We’ll be fine, Brooke. Go get some air. If there’s a problem, I’ll call you on your cell,” Hilda said.
Brooke stood and nodded, her lips thinned.
“Okay, one run, really quick. If anything seems out of sorts or if you need me in any way…”
“Mom, we’ll be fine. I’ll be okay. I feel great today.”
Brooke glanced at her daughter and saw the strain of the last week on her young face, and in the slow way she moved to grab the sandwich Hilda had made. Tears stung at her eyes, but she forced them back and turned away before she changed her mind.
“Okay. I’ll be back.”
She stepped outside, did a few stretches to warm her muscles, then kicked off. Heading down toward the river, she lost herself in the rhythm of her feet slapping against the pavement, soothed her body and mind in the constant in and out of her breath, matched her breathing to the example her body set with the jog.
Trees passed in a blur. Houses lined the street and grew sporadic closer to the Hudson. The fall air blew around her, kicking up leaves long fallen, the promise of snow a full reality as Old Man Winter made himself known.
She turned onto a path that ran along the edge of the river and stopped immediately in her tracks. Dwayne ran toward her in the opposite direction and the sight of him was like a physical kick in the gut. Breath stuttered out of her. It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t have this kind of hold on her after only a few days together.
But he did…
He drew to a stop a few feet away and she found it hard not to stare at how the long-sleeved thermal clung to his body. It reminded her of how she’d wrapped herself around him, how she’d gripped his arms and ass as he pounded into her, long, hard, and without falter until they’d both exploded in pleasure.
His jogging pants rode low on his hips and, further down, his battered running shoes reminded her of how often he used them. In a world where this man perfected his appearance, his shoes were so out of place.
She stared at those shoes for long minutes, knowing damn well she couldn’t look at his face for fear of what she’d see.
Lust or hatred?
Disgust or sympathy?
She didn’t want any of it.
“Hey,” he said.
She looked up, focusing her attention on the hard line of his jaw. Sweat ran in rivulets along his cheeks, another thing that was out of place in this man. Who knew he could sweat?
She did. God, she remembered all too well.
“Um, hi,” she answered, sounding like an idiot.
His jaw tightened. “How’s Hails?”
Brooke glanced away, looking over the water. It glistened under the lowering sun, sending sparkles of diamonds glittering across the river.
“She’s doing…okay. Getting along. We’ve…we have an aide who comes in and spends the day with her. Nighttime is rough, especially on the nights she has nightmares, but we’re getting through it.”
He shifted closer and she closed her eyes, fought to stay still. Her shoulders stiffened.
He sighed, a long, drawn breath that sounded as frustrated as she was tired. “And her father? Has he come around?”
She shook her head, remembering that hateful conversation she had days earlier. Leo had been too busy in Europe, on some honeymoon with his secretary. “No, he’s away on business.”
Dwayne cursed. “Asshole.”
She let out a brief laugh and opened her eyes. “That’s true, but nothing new.”
Silence spun between them, the web getting thicker as the slow minutes ticked by. This strain they’d developed was her fault. She knew that. She should have never let things get so convoluted, should have never crossed that line into a sexual relationship. She missed her friend. Missed his company.
Would she regret her decision to sleep with him? To get below the skin of this man?
No.
But she couldn’t stand this wall erected between them.
“Look,” she started, shifting back to him. Meeting his eyes was next to impossible but she did it and regretted it immediately. He stared at her with a cool expression, but beneath the façade, frustration was clear as the sky was above.
“Oh, Dwayne, I’m so sorry,” she breathed.
He frowned, then reared his head back. “You’re sorry?”
She sighed, hating this all. “Yes, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have led you on. I shouldn’t have let things get so off path between us. We shouldn’t have slept together. I shouldn’t have let you think I could be like the rest of your—”
“Stop it right there,” he said, his voice low but all the more menacing.
“Stop?” she asked, exasperated. What the hell did he want her to say? Her world spun around her and her heart kicked against her ribs. “But…”
“No, stop,” he repeated and the cool face he’d been holding fell, revealing the man beneath. She took a step back and let herself see it all. The pain, the exhaustion clouding his features. The man who wanted her. Her.
He closed the distance she had set with another step in her direction. “Brooke,” he began, “you are not like anyone else in my life. You are you. You’re who I want.”
She shook her head. God, couldn’t he see she wasn’t built for that? She couldn’t just toss her body out there without ramifications. “What we had was great,” she said. “We had fun, but I can’t continue to be that kind of friend to you. It’s not something I can just hand out.”
He growled and clenched his hands before him. “Sometimes I wanna strangle you,” he shouted.
Her eyes widened.
“Do you really see me as some guy who just fucks whatever walks around?”
She couldn’t answer. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t, because he plowed right ahead as if she were a twig in the middle of a snowstorm.
“I know I’m not the most communicative type of guy. I know you’ve had your issues with men in the past, and goddamn I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that. But I want you! I don’t want someone else. I don’t want to be with anyone else…but you. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
“I-I,” she stammered. “I can’t lose your friendship. I don’t think I can do that.”
“You won’t. God, open your eyes,” he growled.
“They are open,” she snapped, getting pissed.
“No, they—” he started but she’d had enough. That pressure in her chest, the unfairness of it, boiled up and exploded before she thought twice.
“Do you love me, Dwayne? Can you tell me you love me? Can you really settle for someone as used up as me, someone who will always put her daughter first? Can you stand there and tell me you love me? If you want to be with me, can you give me that kind of connection, one such as love.” She spat the last word, the taste of saying it foul.
He stumbled back a step and stared at her, wide-eyed.
Of course.
“Yup, you see? This is what I’m talking about,” she said. “This is why I can’t do this with you. It will change everything between us, and I have to be with someone dedicated to me.” Her vision wavered as tears filled. “I can’t be with you, because I’m trying to figure out how to open myself up like that again. I’m trying to understand how I can love again.”
She turned her face away and cursed herself for showing too much, for letting him see how he affected her.
More silence passed. Minutes ticking slower than she thought possible.
“You want to hear me say the words?” he asked.
Her face heated again, except this time it was from embarrassment and anger
. God, this was humiliating. He’d meant so much to her for so long, and while she’d wanted something from him, some sort of clue that she meant as much to him as he did her, the fact that she was making him say anything really stung. “No, Dwayne, you don’t get it. I don’t just want to hear them. I want to know you understand them.”
He ran his hands through his hair, grabbed what short strands he could and let out an animalistic sound. “Christ! You—you don’t, you can’t mean to sit here and tell me you don’t see it? You can’t stand there and tell me you don’t already understand?”
She stared at him, uncomprehending.
“Of course not,” he continued and paced toward the water, then whirled and faced her again. “I’m—I’m not good with those damn words, and I thought I was showing you, but fuck, I guess I was wrong all along, wasn’t I? I did it just like my mother said.”
“What?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Those words, the ones you really want to hear? Brooke, they mean shit.”
Her mouth fell open in shock. She gaped at him like some fish sitting in a tiny tank in a dentist office somewhere.
His expression softened. He took a step toward her. “Brooke, I don’t know how else to say it, because damn if I’m going to waste oxygen telling you three words that could mean absolute shit. In case you’ve missed it, I’m an action kinda guy. I thought I’ve shown you that, how I care for you, about how much you and Hailey mean to me, but I guess I was wrong.”
Had he really shown that? She fought to keep her head in the present but memories slammed into her, the years he’d remained at her side. The laughs they’d shared. The tears he’d helped mop up. The lovemaking from a few short weeks ago.
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off again.
“Love,” he spat the word as she had earlier, “isn’t something that can adequately be described. It’s not meant to be that way, because no word can capture what the emotion really is. Love is an action. Love is showing that no matter what, someone will remain at your side and stay there. Love is something that when it gets rough, you don’t have to worry about shouldering the burden alone, or in the darkness by yourself. Love is showing the one you care about that you’re there. I don’t have to hear the simple word from you, Brooke, to know you love me. I see it. Tell me I’m lying.”
He waited her out, studying her face intently.
Air rushed up her throat and choked her. His words had stolen her power of speech. She couldn’t answer. She had nothing to say. She wanted to, but she couldn’t think. A sob escaped her chest and she pushed down on her heart for fear it would break out of her body.
He took three long strides and captured the side of her face, then tilted her head back with his fist full of her hair.
“Dwayne,” she sobbed. The musk of man and evergreens rushed into her lungs on an inhale.
“You love me. You’ve shown me that. I was too damn blind to see it when you kicked me out of the hospital last week, but I’ve had time to think.” His eyes bore into hers. “I’ve had time to really step back and see. You love me. Nod your head if I’m telling the truth.”
She nodded. Wind blew against them, brushing her cheeks with cool air. She shivered, but it wasn’t due to the cold. It was the feel of this man holding her in his arms.
“That feeling,” he continued, “is exactly what I feel. I can’t say the words you want to hear, and God, it pains me to tell you that, to know that those three simple words could fix everything between us. But I can’t. They don’t mean the same thing to me that they mean to you. And I refuse to utter something when me saying it would be a lie. I don’t believe in those three words. But if you believe that love can be what I’ve just explained, then you should consider yourself loved…by me.”
He kissed her then, hard and fast. The world around her dimmed until they existed in a realm of nothing. The hard muscles of his chest pressed against hers. His height towered above her, and his body cocooned her from the cold. It was only Dwayne and Brooke.
She tightened her fists on his shirt and whimpered into his mouth when he sought her to open. She complied and let him take his taste while she drank him in.
All too soon, he pulled away, brushed his thumbs over her cheeks and stepped back.
“You know where to find me, Brooke. If you need me, if you want me as I want you, you know where and how to find me.” He dropped his forehead to hers and squeezed his eyes tight. She wanted to say something, tried to force her mouth open, but nothing came out.
Before she could respond, he turned and resumed his run in the opposite direction. She stared after him for long moments, even after he’d disappeared.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A few days later…
Dwayne pulled to a stop on the curb outside Brooke’s house and looked up at the red door. After their last conversation, he wasn’t sure if she’d welcome him stopping by, but he couldn’t put off seeing Hailey any longer.
He cared for that girl like she was of his own blood, and after helping raise her, after rescuing her, he was in his right to make sure she was getting along okay.
Right?
With a nod at his own question, he pushed open his door and jogged across the lawn to the front steps. He gave a quick knock, something he usually didn’t do, and it felt weird to be doing it now. Normally he’d just walk in the house as if he belonged—because dammit, he did belong—but again, something had changed in his relationship with Brooke, and that right seemed to have been taken away.
The door opened and Hailey stood there in a pair of pink sweatpants and a white tank top. Her hair was piled on the top of her head in a messy ponytail and on the perch of her nose sat rectangle glasses.
“Hey,” he said and peeked over her shoulder. The house looked empty and as much as he wanted to see Brooke, he hoped she wasn’t there.
He was lying to himself. He so hoped she was.
“Hey,” Hailey answered with a smile. “Why are you knocking?” She stepped back in invitation, and he moved inside and closed the door.
“I wasn’t sure if I should just walk in.”
She scoffed and rolled her brown eyes, ones that looked tired behind the rim of her glasses. “Oh please, you know better. You’re always welcomed to come right in.”
She turned and tucked herself on the couch, folding long legs beneath her and tossing a throw across her lap. Two fingers lifted and rubbed at her temple.
“Are you okay?” He followed her over but didn’t sit.
She nodded. “I’m fine. But I’m getting real sick of that question. I had to kick Mom out earlier because she was driving me insane.”
His hopes fell, but the girl on the couch was his biggest reason for coming. He sat next to her and rested his elbows on his thighs, clasped his hands between his legs. “We’re all worried about you. That’s all. It should feel nice to know that people care, your mom especially. Do me a favor and don’t give her too hard of a time.”
Hailey sighed and looked over. “I know, and I try. I just, I really want to get better, you know? But when she’s constantly hovering, it’s hard to think straight.”
He had to remind himself that this girl was only eighteen, her birthday passing a few days earlier, and she was dealing with a lot. That she and her mother were trying to work through things wasn’t any of his business, but it still bothered him to know it. “She’s worried. We all are. So tell me, how are you feeling, really? What’s up with the glasses?”
She sat back, drew her knees up, and hugged them to her chest. “I’m getting through things. It’s hard, but I’m talking to someone. I just can’t tell Mom some stuff. It’s not that I don’t think she wants to hear it, but I don’t think she’s ready. I don’t think I’m ready to face all of it with her. It’s like you said, it’s hard on her, too.”
He thinned his lips and looked down, lest he show too much about how her abduction had affected them all, him included. A few moments passed. He drew in a breath and
reached into his coat pocket. “I’ve got something for you, birthday girl.”
Her low chuckle brought his gaze to her face. She smiled and the light in her eyes told him she’d be okay, and that stopping by was the right thing to do. Holding out his hand, he presented her with a pink box wound with a white ribbon. The trip to the city had been no problem, and the visit with the jeweler was a favor owed to his brother Jake.
She took the box and unwound the bow slowly, set it down on her outstretched hands. “You know you didn’t have to. Coming to get me was a present I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay.”
She hadn’t opened the box yet, and her hands paused on the top. She looked into his eyes. Hers filled with tears and bubbled over. “Thank you,” she said with a catch in her voice.
He couldn’t stand it any longer. He reached for her at the same time she tossed herself into his arms. Her face pressed into his neck and he held tight. This little girl had grown into a young woman overnight, one who’d seen too much in her short life. He palmed the back of her head and let her cry against his chest. With her safe now, being held by him, he finally gave in to the emotions that had been bubbling up since she’d been taken. Tears flowed down his cheeks and fell into her hair unchecked. Harsh sobs from the both of them filled the air for long, sorrowed minutes. Losing her for almost two weeks had been one of the hardest things he’d ever went through, and the thought of never getting her back was something he hadn’t realized would have buried him.
Her crying jag waned after a bit and he wiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand. She pulled back and sat at his side, tucked under his arm. She gave him a watery smile and he chucked her nose.
“All better?” she asked.
He laughed, a short bark that relieved more pressure he didn’t know was left. “All better, brat.”
She grinned and grabbed the box that had been tossed aside, put it back on her lap, and lifted the lid. Inside, against blue velvet, sat a gold necklace with two interlocking pendants at the end.
