by Jami Alden
You probably won’t believe me when I say that I have thought of you girls a lot over the years, and have often wondered how your lives have turned out. From what you shared, it sounds like you have both grown into strong, successful women, for which your mother deserves all of the credit.
It was because of her and her strength that I eventually realized that it would be better for all of us if I stayed out of your lives. When your mother and I split, I was because I was at that time incapable of being a good husband and father, or even for that matter, a halfway decent one. I needed to find my own path and my own way to get out of the hole of bitterness and anger I found myself in. It was a long process, and would have done nothing but hurt you and your sister even more.
The words blurred in front of her. Molly blinked away the tears and read on, hope fluttering in her chest at the next sentence.
It was always my intention to reconnect with you and your sister. I’d hoped that one day, when I was confident I could be a positive presence in your lives, we could reestablish our relationship.
But life has a funny way of getting away from you, and plans have a way of changing. As you have moved on with your life without me, I have also moved on with my life. After several years of soul searching and getting my life back together, I met a wonderful woman named Christine.
Christine must have been the woman who answered the phone, she thought inanely, as a sense of foreboding settled over her.
Christine and I have been married for thirteen years now, and we have two amazing boys, ages eleven and thirteen.
Holy crap, she had half-brothers.
For reasons I still don’t know how to explain, I never told Christine about your mother or you and your sister. Maybe because I sensed with Christine an opportunity to make a fresh start, live my life in a completely different way than I had in the past. When I married Christine, it was as though I became a new person, with a future in front of me so bright I didn’t want to mar it with my mistakes from the past.
Molly felt her stomach sink to the tips of her toes at the casually cruel language. Mistakes from the past. Is that really how he viewed her and Ellie? Mistakes to be forgotten, shoved under the rug along with a past he wanted to pretend didn’t exist?
For that reason, I think it is for the best that we don’t have any further contact with one another, as I am concerned with how the knowledge that I am divorced and have children from a previous marriage will affect my wife and my relationship with her and my children.
Know that I wish the best for you and your sister, and I hope you both live long and happy lives. I’m sorry it took me so long to become the kind of husband and father that I should have been to your mother and you girls.
With love,
Patrick
Patrick. The fact that he’d signed it using his name was the final, devastating blow. Proof that he didn't think of himself as her father anymore. She reread the email twice, as though the text would change. But it was all there in front of her.
Her father didn’t want to have anything more to do with her now than he had nineteen years ago.
Her head snapped up at the sound of her front door opening and closing.
“Hey, didn’t you hear me knock?” Brady walked into the room, eyes widening before a slow grin spread across his face as his gaze locked on her high heels and slowly traveled up.
###
Brady, who was already half hard on the drive over, felt his cock surge against his fly as he hungrily took in the black pumps on her feet, up her bare legs to the hem of the silky robe. “Goddamn, just when I though you couldn’t get any hotter”—his words cut off midstream as his gaze finally landed on her face.
Hollow eyed and white as a sheet, she looked like she’d just been dealt a death blow. All thoughts of sliding that silky robe off her shoulders and having at all the goodness underneath fled as his heart squeezed in his chest at the sight of her obvious distress.
“What is it? What happened?” He shucked his jacket and hurried over to the couch.
Molly swallowed hard as he sat down next to her. “I heard from my Dad,” she said and handed him her phone.
He read Patrick Tanner’s letter, stomach sinking with every line. By the time he got to the end, he was so full of rage he wished there was a way to reach through the cloud, grab Tanner, and hang him up by his non-existent ball sack.
He shoved the anger away—Molly didn’t need his anger right now. He pulled her onto his lap and into his arms. She sat there, stiff and silent at first. Brady smoothed his hand over her hair, up and down her back, his mind groping for the right words to say. He considered himself a compassionate person with a decent level of empathy—for a guy anyway.
But he’d never felt anyone’s pain so keenly, never felt such a need to take that pain away and absorb it into himself. And never felt so goddamn helpless at his inability to do so. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
He felt her relax a degree and burrow her head deeper into the curve of his neck. “It took long enough I was beginning to think he wouldn’t answer at all,” she said. “At least this is something. At least now I know.”
But simple knowledge couldn't take away the pain of rejection emanating off of her. “He’s an idiot, and a coward.”
“I get it.” She lifted her head. “He’s got a new life, a new family, and he’s afraid of messing that up.”
“If his wife really is as great as he says, she’d love him even if she knew the truth.”
“It’s more than just the truth. He’s worried about the past ruining his future.”
Brady fought the urge to squirm under her solemn blue gaze, reminding himself they were talking about her father, not him. Besides, the circumstances were different.
“I knew this would be a likely outcome,” she continued, and his heart cracked a little at her tight expression, her desperate attempt to be stoic. “If I’m upset, it’s because I brought it on myself.”
“That doesn’t mean it hurts any less,” he said and laced his fingers through hers.
“No it doesn’t.” Her lips trembled and her eyes filled as her control started to slip.
“It’s his loss,” he said, scrambling for something to stave off the coming flood. Fuck, he’d been in firefights across the globe, and none of that had him feeling as desperate as he felt at the prospect of Molly in tears. “It’s not about you, it’s about him being a selfish idiot and a coward—”
“It’s not me, it’s him, right? Like it wasn’t me, it was Josh. Except it was me he outgrew and had to move on from if he was going to be happy.” Her voice cracked on the last word and the tears started to spill. “What is it about me, Brady, that makes me so easy to leave?”
Brady’s heart broke all the way open as he yanked her to his chest and buried his face in her hair. “You’re not, Molly.” I will never leave you, not as long as you want me to stay. The vow hovered on his lips, but he bit it back. Tonight, when she was devastated with grief, was not the time to reveal how deep his feelings for her went.
But soon.
Instead he held her while she cried, murmuring reassurances that she was beautiful and funny and smart and just because two assholes in the world didn’t appreciate her didn’t mean other people didn’t.
“Thanks for saying that,” she said with a shaky breath and gave him a watery smile.
“I’m not just saying it,” he said tightly. “I mean it. I think you’re beautiful, I think you’re smart and funny. And I appreciate you for exactly who you are.”
“Oh,” she said softly, and he wondered if she was starting to understand exactly how much she meant to him.
He bent his head and kissed her, his lips moving gently over hers.
She parted her lips, deepening the kiss. Following her lead, he slid his tongue against hers, his body heating with need as his fingers registered the sensation of silky fabric sliding over warm skin. His hand went between them and found the tie holding it together, th
en froze as her body shuddered and she pulled her mouth away.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “I don’t think I’m going to be much fun tonight.” She started to slide off of his lap and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her.
“It’s okay,” he pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I admit I was kind of surprised when you made a move, but happy to roll with it.”
“For a second I thought maybe it would be a good distraction, but I think I need more time to process all of this. I’m sorry you came all the way out here just to deal with me having a meltdown.”
He wondered what she would say if he told her holding her while she cried felt more like a privilege than a burden. “I’ve got big shoulders,” he said instead. “I’m always here if you need one to cry on.”
She gave him a little smile. “When did you get so nice?”
“I’ve always been nice. I just do a good job of hiding it.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go change.” She pulled away and this time he let her go.
“I expect a rain check on that getup,” he said his eyes running hungrily up her smooth legs and silk draped ass as she walked away.
While she changed, Brady topped off her wine glass and poured one for himself. He settled back on the couch, picked up the remote and clicked on the TV.
Molly returned a few minutes later wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt, hair in a ponytail. It didn’t seem possible, but she was just as sexy in her sweats as she’d been in the lingerie and high heels. Down boy, he said when his dick took notice of the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“You don’t have to stay,” Molly curled up next to him and took the glass he handed her. “I mean, since we’re not going to…”
He set down his wine glass. “If you’d rather be alone, I’ll go. But if it’s all the same to you I’d rather hang out with you. Even if you aren’t putting out tonight.”
###
Molly stifled a sigh of relief at Brady’s words. Truth was even though she wasn’t much in the mood for sex, she really wasn’t looking forward to a night alone, stomach churning over this latest painful rejection. “That sounds good.”
Warmth coursed through her as he slung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her against his side and handed her the remote.
“Really? You’re letting me drive?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Your house, your TV.”
She scrolled through the channels, considering turning on a Lifetime movie or the Oprah network just to torture him. But then she saw one of her favorite movies playing on cable and couldn’t resist.
“Terminator Salvation? Really?” Brady chuckled at her choice.
“What can I say? I love action movies. And Christian Bale and Sam Worthington aren’t exactly hard to look at.”
“Just when I think I can’t like you more,” he said and pressed a kiss against the top of her head.
Molly couldn’t stifle the little thrill that erupted in her chest at his words. Even though she knew better than to read anything into it, she couldn’t deny that it felt good, snuggled up on the couch next to Brady, watching the movie in companionable silence as they shared a bottle of wine.
Not just good. She felt… comforted. And cared for.
Almost like they were a real couple.
Don’t. Don’t let yourself go there. You know better.
And yet, that didn’t stop her from laying her head against his shoulder, from letting herself enjoy the feeling of his fingers gently caressing her neck and shoulders. From letting herself imagine what it would be like to come home to this every night.
God, it would be so easy to fall in love with him.
Who says you haven’t already?
For once, she didn’t nip the thought in the bud. Even though it was foolish. Even if it threatened to send her heart in a direction it had no business going. Tonight she didn’t want to over analyze and fight with herself.
Tonight she wanted to savor the experience of being with Brady absent the frenzy of sexual heat. Imagine that he could care for her beyond what happened in the bedroom.
The wine and the steady sound of his heartbeat in her ear had her drifting off. She woke, disoriented, as he was lifting her off the couch.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up, but I figured you’d be more comfortable in your bed,” he said as he carried her down the hall.
“Thanks for hanging out with me tonight,” she said around a yawn as he deposited her on her bed. “I promise I’ll be more fun if you come over tomorrow.”
He sat down on the bed next to her and gave her a kiss that warmed her to the tips of her toes. “I always have fun with you. Speaking of fun, I was thinking maybe tomorrow we could try something different.”
“Different how?” she asked warily as visions of handcuffs and riding crops jumped into her head.
“There’s a restaurant over in Livingston I’ve been wanting to try. I was thinking tomorrow after we close, I could take you to dinner.”
Her whole body jerked in surprise. “You mean, like a date?”
“Exactly like that.”
Somehow the idea struck her as even more preposterous than the idea of the handcuffs and whip. “Brady, I think I’ve proven I’ll put out. You don’t have to buy me dinner first.”
His fingers curled against the bedspread, and she could sense he was getting frustrated. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
“Why?” She wondered why she was pushing it, even as her heartbeat kicked up at the possibilities.
He leaned in closer and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Molly, did it ever occur to you that maybe I want to be more to you than a midnight fuck buddy?”
He gave her hard, hungry kiss. “See you tomorrow,” he said and left before she could get over her shock enough to form a response.
Chapter 12
Brady pulled up to Molly’s house the next evening, feeling as excited as a teenager who’d scored a date with the captain of the cheerleading squad. Which, given the intimate knowledge he had of every inch of her body, was kind of ridiculous.
Still, that didn’t keep his stomach from buzzing with anticipation as he walked to her front door with a bouquet of flowers clutched in his fist.
He’d acted on impulse last night, both in asking her out and in blurting out that he wanted to move past the friends who fuck stage onto something bigger.
A thought which had never occurred to her if the look of abject shock on her face had been anything to go by.
But she hadn’t tried to cancel, and when he’d texted her earlier to tell her he’d pick her up at 7:30, she’d replied, "OK".
It might be just a dinner date, but it was a step in the right direction. Damned if he wasn’t going to run with it.
She opened the door at his knock, a curiously shy smile on her face. His own grin spread across his face when he saw what she was wearing. Her black skirt clung to the curves of her hips and thighs and ended just above her knees. She was wearing tights in deference to the fall chill, and he noticed, his grin widening, she was wearing the same black heels he hadn’t been able to enjoy the night before.
Topped with a silky, emerald green blouse unbuttoned to show just the barest hint of her ample cleavage, she looked classy and sexy and so fuckable that if he didn't feel so much riding on this first official date he would have pushed her back into the house and done her until she couldn’t walk straight.
“You look great,” he said.
“So do you.” Her admiring gaze made him glad he’d taken the extra time to dig his iron out of the closet and run it over his button down shirt and jeans.
“You got me flowers?” she said, looking wide eyed at the bouquet he’d forgotten he was carrying.
“Isn’t that what people do?” he said as he handed them over and followed her inside so she could put them in water.
“I have no idea.” She laughed ruefully as she rummaged through a cabinet next to th
e refrigerator. “I think the last time someone gave me flowers was when Josh pinned on my corsage at prom.”
She pulled out a vase and filled it with water. Once the flowers were taken care of she turned back to him.
“Should we go?” she said and started for the door.
“Don’t you want a jacket or anything? It’s a little cold.”
She stopped short and gave her head a little shake. “Of course,” she said with a laugh, “and it would be good to have my keys and purse too.”
She took a short black wool coat out of the closet and reached for her purse where it sat on a table in her entryway. It slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground, sending lipstick and loose change scattering across the wood floor.
“Ugh, I’m such a klutz,” she muttered as Brady bent down to help her gather everything up.
She took a deep breath as they both stood. “I’m nervous,” she blurted out. “I don’t know why, I mean, it’s just you, and it’s not like we haven’t…” she trailed off.
Brady grabbed her by the hand, pulled her against him, and kissed her. It took a few seconds, but soon she was melting against his chest, her lips parting under his as her hands stole up around his neck.
“Better?” he murmured after several long moments.
“Yeah,” she breathed, and let him help her with her coat.
It was a half hour drive to Livingston, during which they made small talk about the Simply Delicious shoot coming up in a couple of days. Though the conversation came easily, he could sense Molly was still on edge.
After a lull, she finally addressed the elephant in the room. Or the truck, as it were.
“So, what you said last night, did you mean it?”
He didn’t bother asking her to clarify. “Yeah, I did.” He kept his gaze focused on the road.
She was silent for several moments, then. “Brady, I’m not sure I’m ready for more. I was with Josh for a long time, and I don’t just want to jump into something so quickly—”
He cut her off. “I’m not talking marriage and babies.” Yet. He reached across the bench seat and found her clenched hand in her lap. “I know what you’ve been through, and I know we need to take it slow.” He pulled her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back. “I’m just asking you to take a chance so we can see where this can go.”
