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Authors: Cheryl Douglas

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction

Brody (8 page)

BOOK: Brody
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“That’s not true,” he whispered as he turned his body toward mine. “I regret losing you.”

I looked at him, wishing he weren’t so handsome. It made him nearly impossible to resist, to which all of the women who’d been checking him out in the airport would no doubt attest.

“No sense dwelling on our regrets,” I said, hoping he would let this go. I did not want to talk about us now. I couldn’t. Not on a crowded airplane with no means of escape. “Not like we can do anything to change the past.”

“What if we could?” he asked, sounding anxious. “What if you could rewrite our story? How would it play out?”

“What are you talking about?” Was he crazy? I couldn’t share that with him. It would make it seem as if I wasn’t over him. I suspected that was obvious, but still, I didn’t want to admit it.

“Come on, tell me,” he said, nudging my elbow with his. “Tell me the story of Brody and Riley. Your version.”

Oh God, he really expected me to do this? If I refused, it would prove that I was still living in the past, hoping for a different outcome. If I gave him what he wanted, maybe it would show him that I could talk about it without falling apart. That I’d come to terms with it.

After taking a sip of water, I said, “Well, after college, maybe we would have gotten a little apartment somewhere, jobs to support ourselves.” Instead, I’d gotten an apartment and a job working at a bridal salon while he decided to travel the world, chasing fame and fortune at a poker table.

“Go on,” he said, obviously eager to hear more.

“We would have worked, saved up for a while, maybe bought a little house eventually.” I felt silly sharing this with him, since it was so far removed from his glamorous, jet-setting life. “I would have started my business when the time was right. You would have found a career you enjoyed.”

He chuckled. “Can’t imagine what that would have been. You know I wasn’t very good at staying in one place for long.”

“Then maybe you would have started your own business,” I said, considering his options. “Something to do with sports. You were almost as passionate about that as you were about gambling.” I whispered his vice as though it was a dirty word. Probably because during my strict Catholic upbringing it had been. “After we were both settled in our home and careers, we could have saved some money and started trying for a family.”

He grinned. “I think that would have been my favorite part.”

I shook my head, thinking he was adorable but incorrigible. “What? Trying to get pregnant?”

“You have to admit we did have a lot of practice.”

Yeah, keeping our hands off each other had always been the problem. If not for reliable birth control, we probably would have had a few kids by now.

“What would you say if I told you that pregnancy scare when we were seventeen didn’t turn out the way I hoped it would?”

I was stunned. I hadn’t thought about that in years. We had been terrified after a false positive on a pregnancy test led me to believe I was expecting Brody’s baby. At least I thought we were both terrified. I knew I was. “You wanted me to be pregnant?”

“You sound so surprised,” he said, sounding amused. “I know we were young, but we would have figured things out, don’t you think?”

“I guess, but…” We hadn’t been ready to be parents. Hell, Brody still wasn’t ready to be a parent. “Things worked out the way they were supposed to.”

“If we had gotten pregnant, the decision would have been taken out of my hands. Sometimes I think that’s what I needed, for fate to make the decision for me.”

“You’re not making any sense.” If I didn’t know better, I’d think he had vodka in his glass instead of water. “You weren’t ready for marriage and a family—you told me so dozens of times. Now you’re trying to tell me you wish I’d gotten pregnant because it would’ve made your decision easier?”

“I believe in fate, don’t you?”

“I think so.” But I’d also thought Brody and I belonged together, and I’d been wrong about that. These days, I was less likely to say anything was meant to be.

“You used to,” he said, looking more somber. “Did I take that away from you too?”

“You didn’t take anything away from me,” I said, trying to let him off the hook. I’d made my own mistakes, my own choices. I couldn’t blame him, even though there’d been plenty of days when I had.

“Yes, I did. I took away your hope, your ability to trust.” He clenched his jaw. “That sparkle in your eye, the one that made me fall in love with you in the first place.”

Wow. Did I really seem that pitiful to him? “If you’re implying I’m a shell of my former self, that’s not true. I still have plenty of things in my life that make me happy and grateful every day. I have a good family, great friends, a profitable business. What do I have to complain about?”

“But what’s all that without love, Ri? You don’t have the things you wanted most: a husband and kids. And that’s because of me.”

“I had a second chance at that with Stephan,” I reminded him. “If I’d been so desperate to fulfill that fantasy, I would have said yes when he proposed to me.”

“Why didn’t you?”

I felt his eyes on me and I struggled to look up, knowing he would see inside my soul, as he always had. “It didn’t feel right.”

He gestured between us with his index finger. “But this does… feel right.” He kissed my cheek tenderly, his scruff scraping my sensitive skin. “It’s been a long time since anything felt so right. At least for me.”

And when he linked his hand with mine and settled back into his seat, I had to agree. It had been a hell of a long time since anything felt so right.

 

 

Chapter Six

Riley

 

After everything Brody had told me about his father over the years, I expected to find a dilapidated shack, not a well-tended, spacious home.

“Are you ready to do this?” I asked as the limo that brought us from the airport pulled away.

The driver had said to call him when we were ready to leave. If Brody’s body language was any indication, he was seriously considering calling the driver back now.

“I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“You always have a choice,” I reminded him, slipping my arm through his. “You chose to come here because you wanted to meet your brothers. Today is about them, not about mending your relationship with your father.”

I knew he had to take it slowly and get to know his father all over again, as the man he was today, not the monster who lurked in his memory.

“Right, it’s about Tanner and Beck.”

I gave him a reassuring smile before dropping a kiss on his cheek. “For what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you for doing this.”

“It’s worth everything,” he whispered, burying his face in my hair as he pulled me into his arms. “I’m doing this because I want to bury the past, Ri. I want to be a better man… for you.”

I knew that I should remind him that he couldn’t change for anyone else, but I was so touched that he cared enough to try to change for me that I simply hugged him back, hoping he could gain some strength from me.

“Okay, let’s get this over with.” He grabbed my hand, but paused before he cleared the last step. “Do you think I should have brought them something? Damn it, I didn’t even think of that.”

I knew he was referring to his brothers, since he would never gift his father or stepmother anything. “I’m sure seeing you will be enough.”

“How do you know that? I mean, I don’t even know for sure that they want to meet me. I only have the old man’s word, and we all know that isn’t worth a damn.”

I coaxed him up onto the covered porch and tugged him onto one of the Adirondack chairs covered with cheerful red, orange, and yellow cushions. “You think you know your father, but isn’t it possible the man he is today isn’t the man you knew?”

He glanced at the red door before letting his eyes travel over the rest of the house and yard. The house was a two-story with attractive wood siding, and the lawn appeared freshly cut. There wasn’t a weed in the flowerbeds, only clusters of red and yellow flowers planted in rich dark soil.

“We would have given anything to grow up in a house like this,” he said bitterly. “But he couldn’t stay sober long enough to hold a job. So we got shuffled from apartment to apartment. I remember we even spent one Christmas in our van.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, curling my hand over his knee. “You never told me about that.”

“That’s why Ryker always makes such a big deal about the holidays. He wants his boys to have the kind of Christmases we never had.”

“That’s understandable. You’ve all grown up to be amazing men. In spite of your father. And I’m willing to bet your half-brothers are becoming fine young men too, maybe because of him.” I knew he didn’t want to hear that, but I felt compelled to say it. “Isn’t that what you would want for them, to have the kind of father you always wanted?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding his head slowly. “It is.”

“So let’s try to go in there with an open mind. Talk to the boys. Listen to them tell you about
their
father. You may find he’s the kind of father you always wanted, and still could have, if you’re open to the possibility.”

“God.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “There’s just so much bad blood between us. How do I bury that? How do I forget what he did to us, to Mom?”

“You always told me your mom was the sweetest, kindest, most forgiving woman in the world. Do you think she would have been able to forgive him?”

“I know she would have,” he said, watching a young boy ride a shiny red bike down the street as his dad watched from the end of their driveway. “When she was dying, I asked her if she hated him. She said she couldn’t because he’d given her the best thing that ever happened to her—us.”

I’d only met his mother a few times, and by then, she’d been sick. But I knew everything he said about her was true. She had been a remarkable woman who would want her sons to forgive their father’s sins.

Sounding choked up, he asked, “How did she let go of all the anger? Even after all these years, I still don’t know how to do that.”

“Maybe you don’t have to know that right now. Maybe you just need to take it one step at a time. I’d say coming here is the first step. You’ll know what the next step should be based on what feels right. Just go with your gut. It’s never betrayed you before.”

“I don’t know about that.” He brushed my hair over my shoulder. “My gut led me to gambling in the first place. Now I’m not so sure I should have followed that impulse.”

Ever since he’d decided to make poker his career, I’d never heard him voice any reservations, so this was all new to me, and I didn’t know how to take it. Was he just going through a crisis after seeing his father for the first time in twenty years, or was there more to it? Maybe he really was ready to stop running.

“I don’t think this is the time or place to question that.” I gestured to the door. “Right now, you just need to focus on getting to know those boys.”

“Right.” He stood, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black bomber jacket.

I hadn’t seen him dressed up since he came to stay with me, and I liked this more casual Brody. He reminded me of the boy I fell in love with.

Slipping my arm through his, we walked to the door, and I rang the bell. I felt the tension in his body, so I patted his arm before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

A woman I guessed to be in her late fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a warm smile, opened the door. “You must be Brody.” She offered her hand. “I’m so happy to finally meet you.” She closed her other hand over his, her soft brown eyes conveying her genuine pleasure.

“Nice to meet you too,” he muttered.

“I’m Sandra, your dad’s wife.”

He slipped his hand from hers before gesturing to me. “And this is my girl—uh, my friend, Riley.”

“Hi, Riley,” she said, taking my hand. “Brody, your dad is in the garage working on something. He wanted to give you a little time with the boys.” She stepped back, inviting us in. “You’re welcome to go out and see him, if you want to. He just didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

I glanced around, noting how lovely their home was. It was warm and welcoming, with polished honey wood steps leading to a second floor. There was a formal dining room on the right and a casual family room on the left. Both spaces were decorated in warm shades of crimson, gold, and green, with solid-looking wood furniture.

“If you don’t mind,” Brody said, barely noting his surroundings, “I’d just like to meet your sons.”

“Of course,” Sandra said, smiling. She walked to a staircase that led downstairs. “Guys, Brody’s here.”

Given the fact we were in Vegas, I was surprised there was a basement. I was about to comment on it, but I figured Brody had more pressing matters on his mind at the moment. He looked as anxious as I’d ever seen him, which was saying a lot, since he’d perfected his poker face years ago.

Two boys bounded up the stairs, and I must have gasped because Brody shot me a curious look. They looked so much like Brody and his brothers at that age, it took me back.

“Hey,” the boys said in unison, looking even more anxious than their older brother.

I tried to imagine what they must be thinking and feeling. He was a man they’d never met, one whose reputation preceded him, especially in the town that made him famous. Brody was all about flashy clothes and cars, a multi-millionaire with a gift for high stakes poker, and they were clearly intimidated.

“Hey, guys,” Brody said, stepping forward to offer his hand. He clearly realized it was up to him to put them at ease and make it clear that he was here because he wanted to get to know them and hopefully forge a lasting relationship with them.

I watched them all shake hands and share reserved smiles before their gazes landed on me. Then their smiles broadened.

The one who introduced himself as Beck asked Brody, “She your girlfriend?”

Seeming at a loss for words, Brody said, “She’s—”

“Hi,” I said, stepping forward to offer my hand first to Beck, then Tanner. “I’m Riley. I’ve known Brody since he was younger than you guys, if you can believe that. When he told me about you, I couldn’t wait to meet you, so he offered to bring me along.” It wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t think a little white lie would hurt.

BOOK: Brody
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