"And you love me, too," I said. "Admit it." I held up a hand. "No, wait. Don't admit it."
"Wait, why not?"
"Because I don't deserve to hear it. Not yet. But tell me. Will you come back? Please?"
Chapter 74
Arden
Call me a sap, but it didn't take much convincing, especially after Brody sheepishly confessed that not only had he rescued the cookies from his brother, but also that he realized he'd been a total ass in refusing my peace offering in the first place.
According to Brody, the cookies were now hidden away in his freezer, where he'd cherish them until the end of time – or share them with me, if only I'd return.
And then, he'd threatened to make cookies of his own if I didn't come back – playfully warning me that he didn't know a mixer from a monkey wrench, and that any cookies he made would be no treat for anyone, especially me.
Still, with love in his eyes, he vowed to keep on baking until I agreed to return.
By the end of his petition, I was laughing in spite of myself.
And Brody? Well, let's just say his words were a balm to my battered soul. And the look he gave me when I finally said "yes" was something I wouldn't soon forget, along with the feel of his lips brushing my ear as he leaned close to whisper, "You won't regret it."
When we pulled out of Cami's driveway an hour later, I was wearing fresh clothes – casual shorts and little black T-shirt – along with a smile of wonder.
He loved me. In my mind, I could still hear him telling me those three magical words.
"I love you."
I wanted to say them back.
But Brody had been insistent, telling me that he wanted to make things right between us before I gave him anything he didn't deserve.
I didn’t even know what he meant. And I had no opportunity to ask him in private until we were already on the highway, heading back to Bayside, with my belongings in the back of his luxurious black SUV – one I'd never seen him driving until today.
My head was reeling, and I hardly knew what to think. Looking to say something, I asked, "Is this a new vehicle?"
"Yeah," he said. "Do you like it?"
"I love it," I said. "But I loved your truck, too."
"Good," he said. "Because I've still got it."
"Oh, really?" I teased. "How many vehicles do you have, anyway?"
"Counting this one? Two." He paused. "But hey, I'm open to more. You want a motorcycle or maybe a Winnebago?"
I snickered. "Not really."
"Good," he said. "Because I'm more into houses."
"And how many of those do you have?"
He gave me a sideways glance. "One less than I had two days ago."
"What does that mean?"
"You'll see," he said.
As I gazed over at him, I felt my heart go all warm and gooey. He was wearing dark slacks and a short-sleeve polo shirt that showed off his muscular arms as he drove with one hand draped casually over the steering wheel.
He looked content.
I felt content.
It was crazy to think of how much had changed in the span of just an hour or two.
As my gaze lingered, I heard myself say, "So, what happened?"
"What do you mean?" he asked.
With a trembling laugh, I said, "Well, the last time I saw you, I was pretty sure you hated me."
Brody shook his head. "Nah. I hated myself, and you wanna know why?"
"Why?"
He gave me a warm glance. "Because I couldn’t get over you, no matter how hard I tried."
I loved the way that sounded. Still, I had to tease him at least a little. "You had a funny way of showing it."
"No kidding." As we drove along the empty highway, he stared straight ahead as he added, "There was baggage – stuff I should've let go a long time ago. And that goes double for my brothers."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "Like stuff with your parents?"
"No. Stuff with Willow." He paused. "And you."
I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at. "You mean because of that day I tried to walk her home?"
"No. Because of the day you torched my truck."
"Wait, what does that have to do with Willow?"
Brody's expression turned serious as he eyed the road ahead. "The thing is, she was supposed to be in it."
I tensed. "What?"
"On the day it happened," he said, "I was there picking her up from the lady who watched her when we couldn’t." With a glance in my direction, he added, "That's where my truck was parked – in front of that lady's house."
I shook my head. "But wait, I thought you were parked there to mow the lawn."
"I was," Brody said. "I was mowing for the lady who watched her. The lawncare – it was how we paid for the service."
"So, you exchanged lawn care for babysitting?"
"Lawncare and handy work," he said. "I did the lawn. My brothers did the rest. But as far as mowing, I'd pull up, cut the grass, and then load up Willow. But on that day, I was running maybe five, ten minutes late."
I tried to picture it. "Oh?"
"Yeah," he said. "And around the time you torched the truck, I was supposed to be loading Willow into the car seat." He shook his head. "Or running back into the house because I forgot her favorite stuffed animal or something."
As his words hit home, I felt the color drain from my face. "So she could've been inside the truck?" I sucked in a breath. "Alone?"
As I said it, Waverly's accusation came flooding back. "You almost killed his sister."
I turned sideways to stare at Brody. "But on the day it happened, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"Because it wasn't as bad as it could've been." He frowned. "And, because we didn't want her taken away."
I was still reeling. "What do you mean?"
"After my parents took off – first my dad, and then my mom – we were trying hard to fly under the radar, pretending that mom was still around so Willow wouldn't get put into foster care."
As I listened, my heart went out to him. It went out to all of them – Brody, Chase, Willow, and even Mason. I murmured, "So that's why they hate me."
Brody nodded. "And why we never said anything – not to you or to the police."
Thinking out loud, I said, "So you figured that if it looked like a freak accident, they'd just let it go?"
"Yeah. Which they did. A good thing, too, because I sure as hell didn't want them coming to our house, asking for mom or whoever."
"But what about Mason?" I asked. "He was an adult, right?"
"Oh yeah," Brody said with a rueful laugh. "He was an adult at ten."
In my mind, I could totally see it, and it nearly broke my heart.
"The thing is," Brody continued, "by that time, Mason had been the dad for a while."
"You mean to Willow?"
"Her and to the rest of us," he said, "whenever we'd let him, which in my case, was pretty much never."
I'd never liked Mason. Even on the show, he'd struck me as a total hard-ass who hated anyone not named Blastoviak. But I'd be lying if I didn't admit that it would be nice – really nice – to have a sibling with that kind of loyalty.
And now, I didn't know whether to pity them, or be totally jealous. The Blastoviaks really did stick together.
This reminded me of something I'd meant to ask earlier. "Willow's last name," I said, "why is it Taylor, and not Blastoviak?"
"Because it isn't," Brody said. "Taylor's her middle name."
"Ohhhhh." I turned forward once again. "I guess I should've realized that."
"No." Brody said. "What you should've gotten was an apology."
I didn't get it. "For what?"
"For all the bullshit we put you through."
I wasn't quite sure I agreed. Still, I tried to smile. "Well Mason sort of apologized." Thinking of Willow, I couldn't help but add, "And from what I know now, I'm not even sure I deserved it."
"Oh, you deserved it,
" Brody said. "And more. A lot more."
"A lot more?" I teased.
"You know it," he said. "And hey, the day's not over yet."
Chapter 75
Arden
I was so thunderstruck, I could hardly speak. Brody and I were standing alone in the kitchen of what used to be my grandparent's place.
The kitchen was completely done – and not in "counter-less" cupboards either. No. The cabinets were the same ones that Brody and I had picked out together all those months ago.
But that wasn't even the biggest surprise. It was the fact that the whole house appeared to be totally finished – with fresh paint, new carpet, and refinished wooden floors. The place smelled brand new and looked it, too.
All it needed now was furniture to make it anyone's dream home.
We'd just returned from Petoskey, and Brody had given me the grand tour, minus the attic as usual. Everything was just as I'd envisioned, only better.
The place had new light fixtures, new bathtubs, new sinks, new everything – except for the things worth keeping, like the wonderful woodwork and vintage chandeliers.
It was truly amazing.
I was still reeling – not only over the state of the house, but over the fact that I was here at all, after everything that had happened.
I looked to Brody and asked, "How'd you get it done so fast?"
"Easy," he said. "I bribed them."
"Who?"
"Anyone who needed bribing," he said. "We've had crews working around the clock for the last three days."
"Why three days?" I asked.
"Because," he said with a sheepish grin, "that's when I realized what a dumb-ass I'd been."
"Oh, stop it," I laughed. "We were both dumb-asses in our own way. I mean, I didn't do everything perfectly either."
His smile faded. "You did in high school."
I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. "But what does high school have to do with it?"
Brody reached out and took my hand. "Your scholarship," he said. "The one you lost. Why didn't you say something?"
I stared up at him. "Wait, how'd you hear about that?"
"Chase ran into the guy who got it in your place," he said. "But forget them. Why didn't you tell me?"
"You mean when it happened?" I blew out a nervous breath. "I dunno. Maybe I felt bad about the truck and figured that I couldn’t really complain after costing you something, too."
As the memories came flooding back, I tried to sort it out for myself. "Like right after it happened, when the police showed up, you didn't even try to get me in trouble. And I know you could've."
"But what about later?" he said. "Why didn't you tell me when we were together?"
"I tried," I said. "But it was such a sore subject, and we both had things to be sorry for. I mean, I didn't like you bringing up what happened with the truck, so…" With a loose shrug, I finished by saying, "It just seemed better to let it go. Or at least, I tried to let it go."
His gaze softened as he said, "But the lab explosion – it didn't just cost you the scholarship. It cost you the house, too."
I saw what he meant. And there was a time not too long ago when I would've agreed. But I had to be fair. "It wasn't just you," I said. "I'm sure there are things I could've done better, too. And besides, I never could've fixed up the house like you did." Now, I did smile. "And you know what?"
"What?"
"I'm glad you own it." I searched deep in my heart and realized that I truly meant it. I looked around, taking in how beautiful the place looked now. My grandparents would've loved it.
And I loved it, too.
But more than that, I loved the guy who'd made it happen. As I stared into his eyes, I couldn’t stop myself from saying, "I love you, Brody Blast."
His eyes warmed, and he smiled in a way that tugged at my heart. He was still smiling when he pulled me close and wrapped me in his arms just the way I liked.
Into my hair, he teased, "You were supposed to wait."
I laughed against his chest. "I didn't want to wait." As I spoke, I burrowed tighter against him. I never wanted to let go. The feel of him, the scent of him, the sound of him – all of it was like coming home to a place I'd been searching for my whole life.
And this had nothing to do with real estate.
Thinking of the camera crews, I asked, "Where is everyone, anyway?"
"Gone," he said.
"For how long?"
"Forever."
That word, forever – it sounded so good on his lips. I smiled against him. "Are you sure? Like no one's gonna come back to reclaim an extension cord or something?"
"They can try," Brody said. "But they'll need permission first. The place is firmly off-limits. And you wanna know why?"
"Why?" I asked.
"Because the owner deserves some privacy."
I laughed. "Yes, you do."
"I don't mean me."
I pulled back to look at him. "What?"
"I mean you."
I blinked. "What are you saying? You're willing to sell it?"
He shook his head. "I was never willing to sell. But I am going to make things right."
I smiled up at him. "They're already right."
"Not yet," he said. "But almost." He flicked his head toward a nearby kitchen drawer. "In there, there's something I want you to see."
"What is it?" I asked.
With a smile, he replied, "You won't know 'til you look."
Slowly, I turned and opened the drawer where he'd indicated. Inside, I spotted a neat stack of papers. When I read the big, bold letters on the top sheet, my heart leapt into my throat. "It's the deed."
"You mean your deed."
Holy crap.
He was right. There was my name, right there in black and white. From what I could tell, he'd actually gifted me the house.
I whirled to face him. "You don't mean it?"
"The hell I don't," he said. "I told you, I was going to make it right."
"But I didn't pay you."
"You payed me plenty."
"But that's not true," I said. "I can't accept it."
"You can. And you will." He smiled. "You belong here. You know it's true."
"Yeah, but I wanted to buy it, not force you to give it to me."
"Force me, huh?" He laughed. "Good luck with that."
I couldn’t help but smile. Brody was one of the most stubborn people I'd ever met. And the most wonderful. But I'd meant what I told him. I couldn't accept it.
And I told him so repeatedly until he finally said, "Alright. How about this? I'll ask you again in a month."
"Why a month?"
He grinned. "Why not?"
Well, I couldn’t argue with that – so I didn't.
Instead, I melted into his arms and said, "Do you remember that day we picked out the cabinets?"
His chest was hard, and his embrace was steady. "Uh-huh."
"Do you remember what we talked about?"
With a smile in his voice, he replied, "Oh yeah."
"So, um…What do you think?"
Chapter 76
Arden
Brody pulled back and gazed deep into my eyes. "I think you're mine."
I almost giggled. "You think I'm yours. What, you don't know?"
"Oh, I know," he said. "Do you?"
For all kinds of reasons, I couldn’t stop smiling. "I do now."
"You bet your ass, you do." Slowly, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to mine. He kissed me like he meant it, and I leaned into him, savoring the feel of his lips and the taste of his tongue.
I'd missed him so very much – the sound of his voice, the feel of his body, the smell of his soap. In every possible way, he filled my senses, making me ache deep in my core.
I wanted him.
I'd wanted him almost from the start, even back when we'd supposedly hated each other. But that was then. This was now.
Now, he was mine. And I loved him so very much.
And
he loved me.
Talk about a crazy wonderful world.
When his hands slid up the back of my shirt, I felt the familiar tingle of anticipation. His hands were big and warm – not smooth, but strong and steady.
Beyond eager, I reached under his shirt, too – yanking and pulling at the fabric until with a laugh, he pulled back and let me practically rip the polo shirt over his head, leaving him naked from the waist up.
His waist was lean, and his chest was picture-perfect, just like I remembered. But it wasn't his body, or even his handsome face, that made my breath hitch and my heart skip a beat.
It was the look in his eye when he said, "You're amazing. You know that?"
"No. You're amazing."
And he was, from head to toe.
As he stood shirtless in the kitchen – whose kitchen, I didn't even know – I felt like this was the fresh beginning I'd been longing for, a way to reconcile the past with the present and whatever future came our way.
And speaking of longing, already I could feel my body responding, growing slick and warm in anticipation.
With a grin, Brody said, "You know what I'm gonna do next, don't you?"
Already, I was breathless and giddy. I couldn't help it. I snickered. With mock innocence, I said, "I have no idea."
"Yes, you do." He glanced down at my shorts. "But first, these have gotta go." With that, he reached for my waist and unfastened the button. One zip and few yanks later, I was standing in my panties, with the small of my back pressed against the nearest granite countertop.
Slowly and gently, Brody lifted my shirt over my head, and then tossed it aside. My bra – pink and lacy – was the kind that fastened in front. With love in his eyes, Brody unfastened the clasp with one hand and lowered his head to my neck. As his lips brushed my skin, he murmured, "I missed you."
My breath caught. "I missed you, too."
He pulled back to look at me. "You're so beautiful."
I felt beautiful. And happy — happier than I'd felt in, well, forever, actually. As I searched for the words to tell him so, he took one of my hardened nipples between his fingers and toyed with it just the way I liked.
With a soft moan, I went straight for his pants, fumbling first for the button and then for the zipper. When I pushed down his slacks and saw the massive bulge in his briefs, the warmth inside me only grew.
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