Eternal Brand (7 page)

Emily scoffed and pulled her hand out of his. “Right. I'll go right home and ask him then.”

She picked up her wine glass and took another healthy mouthful. It occurred to Jet that he was going to have to drive her back to Mulholland if she didn't stop swigging her wine, but he didn't have the right to suggest she stop. She was confused and angry because the man she loved had been lying to her by omission for two years. Not to mention pissed that Jet hadn't revealed the true nature of his connection to Brand when they'd first met.

Emily had every right to have a meltdown. She deserved to get rip-roaring drunk if she damn well wanted to. And then Jet would take her wherever she asked to go. He took a sip of his own wine, deciding as he did that it would be his last. He pushed his glass away and turned back to Emily.

“My parents are foster carers. They take in kids whose lives are in limbo because their own parents are either absent or unfit or downright abusive, and they give them shelter and security until those kids have a safe home to go back to. That's how I know Brand. That's why he stayed at my parents' orchard on and off from the time he was fifteen.”

“Brand was in foster care?”

Jet nodded. He watched Emily's throat work as she swallowed her distress at the notion. “What happened? Where were his parents?”

“His mother died when he was ten. His father had custody of him after that.”

“But obviously he didn't do a good job,” Emily concluded, her voice low with banked anger. “Or Brand wouldn't have been in foster care.”

“Right.”

When he didn't say anything more, Emily prompted in a quiet, careful way, “Jet, what happened to Brand?”

“Em…I can't say. I only know because I snuck a look at his file, something I should definitely not have done. I wish I didn't know what I know.”

Her small gasp was clearly audible in the tense quiet, as was the tremor in her voice. “It was bad, wasn't it?”

“Yeah. And it was none of my business. I thought I could help him if I could just figure out what made him tick. But all I did was throw it in his face when I found out he'd enlisted in the army without telling me. I accused him of being afraid to love me because of how his parents had neglected him.”

Even now when Jet recalled the look of horror on Brand's face when he realized Jet knew the details of his past, he felt sick to his stomach with remorse. “I was a self-interested shit. But because I loved him I thought all was fair. Whatever it took to make him admit he loved me, I'd do it. It only made him leave faster. No goodbye, nothing.”

“Oh boy. All this time I've been afraid to push him to tell me his stories, like I've told him mine. I was right to be afraid. He would have bolted if I'd demanded too much.”

“You don't know that. He's thirty-one now, not eighteen.”

Emily rested her head on the back of the couch. Her smile was sad. “But he's still hurting. So much he doesn't want me to see. Either about this, or the things he saw in Afghanistan that he won't talk about.”

Jet slumped back on the couch, mirroring Emily's posture. He tilted his lips. “I guess we're both in love with a brick wall, huh?”

“Yeah, but he's a great brick wall.”

They shared a strange sort of doleful laugh. Emily's went on a little longer than Jet's, and he figured the hastily consumed wine was starting to hit her. Maybe he'd suggest she take a nap here and he could call Brand to pick her up. Of course, that would require him to talk to Brand, when the last words the man had said to him were
leave me and Emily the hell alone.

One way or another, this afternoon was probably not going to end well.

“Em?” Jet realized only after the word was out that he'd used the shortened version of her name, the way Brand did. But she didn't pull him up on it, so he said it again, enjoying the sound of it. “Em, does Brand know where you are?”

“No.” That gleam of fury returned to her eyes. “Why should I tell him?”

“Because you love him and want to work through what's happened.”

“Can we though? Can we come back from this?”

Jet rested his hand on her thigh, squeezing it in a gesture of reassurance. “Yes you can.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, a timid sound that didn't suit her. “What if…what if it turns out he'd rather be with you?”

Jet's heart skipped.
No way, Durante. Never going to happen.
“I'll be gone soon and he doesn't even want to see me, anyway.”

“But I can't give him what you can give him, Jet.”

“Hey.”

Jet turned so he was facing her. He touched her cheek with his fingers, urging her to look at him. When she did her green eyes shimmered, and Jet was overcome with the need to fix this, to put back together the part of her that he'd inadvertently broken.

“You've got everything, Emily Irving. You're sweet and funny. You're smart and capable. You're a natural beauty who doesn't need fancy dresses or decoration because she looks as sexy as hell in jeans and boots. You're feminine but there's a toughness about you lets a man know you're up for adventure. You're accepting and forgiving and loving and you have a mouth that's made for kissing. So you see, there's nothing Brand needs that you haven't got.”

A single tear spilled out and ran down her cheek. Jet used his thumb to wipe it away. “Any man who meets you would choose to be with you if he had even half a chance, hon. Trust me on that.”

Emily opened her mouth as though to speak, but no sound came out. Her lips formed a surprised O, the bottom one trembling a little. Instinctively, Jet moved his thumb to stroke it. It was so soft. He'd forgotten how damn soft a woman's lips could be.

When her breath fanned out over his thumb, his whole hand felt electrified. His chest burned where she rested her palm on it. When had she touched him? He wasn't sure, but he knew he should tell her to stop. Suddenly he was teetering on a knife's edge of lust that had risen violently from the closeness he'd encouraged in his attempts to soothe her pain.

He didn't tell her to stop, not even when her fingers started moving, tracing the muscles of his chest through his shirt. He was caught up in her eyes, those huge green eyes that gazed at him like he had the answers she'd been searching years for. Then she was leaning, or he was, or maybe they both were. All Jet knew was that his blood pumped so hard through his veins that his head spun as they moved closer, so close Emily's warmth and delicate feminine scent wrapped around him.

And then somehow they were kissing.

Chapter Nine

I must be drunk.

Red wine had never been Emily's friend, and she'd consumed the alcohol a lot quicker than she normally would. Her head was spinning, and she was definitely lacking her usual measure of emotional equilibrium today, but none of that adequately explained why she was kissing a man who wasn't Brand.

What are you thinking, Em? This has to stop!

The voice of reason shook her out of the momentary haze of insanity she'd been in when she'd let Jet put his lips on hers—or had she kissed him?—and Emily started to pull back. But then Jet moaned into her mouth, the primal, male sound calling to Emily's basic femininity. Next, Jet cupped her face to bring her in closer, his tongue gliding along her bottom lip as though seeking entry to her mouth.

Emily made a sound of her own, less a moan than a whimper of surprised acceptance. When her lips parted Jet swept inside. He held her face while he stroked his tongue over hers in a sensuous motion that shot heat straight to her very core. In reaction, a tremor raced over her skin, igniting every nerve ending. Her belly clenched, and her nipples puckered hard against the soft cotton of her singlet.

And evidently she lost her mind as well as control over her body. Because she didn't pull back. Instead she shoved her hand into Jet's longish hair, twisting it around her fingers as she kissed him with a vigor that mounted quickly, so quickly reason couldn't catch up.

Jet groaned an epithet against her lips and pulled her closer. Her breasts grazed the solid wall of his chest, causing the ache in them to intensify. Emily arched her back, seeking relief from the need gnawing at her. Jet slipped his hand inside her shirt, moving it to the underside of her breast. He stroked her with his thumb until the flesh burned against the material of her singlet.

Emily squirmed and pressed closer, her thigh sliding between both of Jet's. Her hips rocked helplessly. She wanted him. Harder and faster than she'd ever wanted a man, besides Brand.

Oh God, Brand.
Was she doing this to get back at him for kissing Jet? Or was she trying to work out why Brand hadn't been able to resist the man?

If it was for the latter reason, she'd definitely gotten her answer. Jet was a phenomenal kisser who knew how to use his hands. Reading the urgent writhing of her body, he tugged the snaps of her shirt open and parted the fabric. When he held her breast fully in his hand, Emily melted into one giant mass of aroused goo.

He stroked back and forth with his thumb, teasing her nipple to new hardness. She should have worn a bra, another barrier might have helped. But the heat of Jet's touch penetrated the single layer of cotton, and as fast as a flash flood, she wanted her singlet gone. It was shocking how much she wanted to strip off so Jet's hands could sooth her quivering flesh.

She had to get a hold of herself. She was falling over some frightening precipice into a dark unknown, a place where she would no longer be the person she'd always thought she was. Emily knew it all, but couldn't tear her mouth away from Jet's. Couldn't deprive herself of the glorious sensations his soft lips and talented tongue evoked, even though what was happening was wrong. On so many levels, it was wrong.

“Jet,” she murmured into his mouth, struggling to voice her beliefs when her body wanted to betray them. “This is…”

“I know, hon. But you taste so damn good.”

He'd put some distance between their mouths in order to talk, but he couldn't seem to control his need to nibble at her lips. The sensual scrape of his teeth on her soft flesh made Emily's clit pulse against the rough denim of her jeans. She couldn't help imagining how Jet's tongue and teeth would work at the juncture of her thighs. Brand lavished as much attention there as a woman could ever need, but he was gentle and careful, as he always was with her.

Would Jet use his teeth on her swollen lips? On her clit?

“Oh, God.”

Misinterpreting her exclamation as one of shame, Jet at last drew back, making a clear attempt to break their connection. “I know. I'm sorry, Em.”

“You're sorry? It's not all you.”

Emily fell back against the couch, panting. Jet's gaze dropped from her no-doubt-swollen mouth to her chest, which rose and fell with her violent breaths. Beneath his scrutiny, her nipples thrust more prominently against her thin white singlet.

Jet groaned. “It's mostly me. You'll have to excuse me, it's been a while.”

“Really?” Emily asked in surprise. She couldn't imagine Jet having trouble finding sexual partners.

His lips twitched. “I mean it's been a while since I've been with a woman.”

“Oh.” Considering all that had just occurred, Emily took a moment to remember that Jet was the same man she'd found kissing her boyfriend with such abandon. That he liked men as well as women. “I guess you've proven you're not gay. You're…”

“I'm bi, Em. Just like Brand.”

Just like Brand. Her boyfriend was bisexual. She had a bisexual lover. Perhaps that wasn't the end of the world, after all. Yes, she wished Brand had been honest with her from the start. That was an issue she needed to address with him. But as long as his attraction to her was real, what did it matter if he'd been drawn to men in the past?

It didn't matter… As long as it was in the past. Emily looked over at Jet, at that sinfully handsome face and the sensual aura he seemed to possess. Could anyone resist him? She hadn't been able to.

What about Brand?

“You'd better close your shirt.”

Jet's abrupt instruction jolted Emily from her thoughts. “Excuse me?”

“I said it's been a while since I've been with a woman, so I'm a mite tetchy.” He let his gaze drop meaningfully to her chest. “I'd give my right arm to bury my face in your tits right now, so you'd better close your shirt before I rip it off.”

She saw from the tautness of his jaw and the feral glint in his dark eyes that he meant what he said. Emily was ashamed to admit the threat aroused her more than it inspired caution. But she pulled herself together—and her shirt too, before they did anything else they had to feel guilty about.

She'd cheated on Brand. No, she and Jet hadn't had sex but they'd made out like they wanted to. All Brand and Jet had done was kiss, and she had felt betrayed. How would Brand feel if he knew what had happened here?

Figuring she would find out soon enough, Emily fastened the snap buttons on her shirt with shaking fingers. Then she reached for the jacket she'd tossed over the back of the couch. “I guess I'd better go.”

“I'll drive you.”

“That's not necessary.”

“You drank that wine pretty fast. There's a good chance you're over the limit.”

Emily bit her lip, realizing he was right. She had no idea how much wine she could have without tipping her blood-alcohol level over the legal limit, but she was pretty sure it was less than what she'd drunk. She could walk it off of course, go for a coffee until she sobered up.

Jet reached over and took hold of her hand. “You've had a hard few days. You're upset and confused, and it's getting dark. Brand would kill me if I let you drive home in this condition. Let me take you.”

“Brand might kill you anyway.” Emily smiled faintly at the joke.

“You're going to tell him,” Jet concluded.

Emily nodded. “I can hardly condemn him for his lack of honesty, and then commit the same sin.”

“Then I should definitely be with you. Let's go.”

They drove in silence for most of the way. Strangely it wasn't an uncomfortable quiet. They'd just made out like a couple of horny teenagers, but there was no awkwardness between them. Emily relaxed into the passenger seat of her four-wheel drive and watched the passing scenery, the gray sky darkening to the charcoal tones of twilight and turning the ocean to a vast inky expanse. An unnamed tension that had been balled up inside her slowly unraveled as the miles passed.

Somewhere deep down she must have been waiting for the other shoe to drop in terms of her relationship with Brand. Now she had a veritable shoe store scattered around her, but at least it meant something would have to happen. Brand might think he could move on from his kissing Jet as though it hadn't taken place, but he wouldn't ignore her doing it. Good or bad, this would force her and Brand to make some decisions about their relationship.

Jet drove onto the ferry that separated Kingston Vale from the town of Billings, which was the main shopping hub for people from all the smaller towns nearby, like Leyton's Headland. Emily let out a derisive chuckle. “I think I owe you an apology.”

“What for?”

“I used you.”

Jet matched her laugh. “I'm not complaining. Except to say maybe you should have used me a bit more.”

“Oh God.” Emily shook her head. “Could this be weirder? We're laughing.”

“I gave up thinking I could decide what was weird and what wasn't years ago.”

Jet winked at her and got out of the car to pay the ferry driver. When he got back in, Emily carried on the conversation. “Do you think we're so comfortable together because of Brand?”

“Who are you calling comfortable?”

Jet shifted in his seat, giving the front of his jeans a tug to make his point. The act made Emily hyperaware of her own remnant arousal, which was pulsing insistently through her pussy. Her cheeks grew hot. “I meant having Brand between us gives us something in common.”

“Having Brand between us…” Jet trailed off on a groan. “Talk like that is not helping.”

Emily hadn't meant they
literally
had Brand between them, but now that Jet had voiced the possibility her imagination went into overdrive. So many pictures flashed through her mind she couldn't process them. All she knew was the soft pulsing between her legs became a hard throbbing that made her panties damper.

No way could she help wriggling in her own seat. The ache inside her was too intense. Emily felt the heat of Jet's gaze on her. “Em… Jesus. You're gonna kill me before Brand can.”

“I'm sorry.” Immediately, she corrected herself. “No I'm not. I can't help how you feel, or how I feel. When I saw you two kissing… Yes, I was devastated. But I was also… God, Jet. I was aroused by it. I may have kissed you to get back at Brand, or to blow our relationship wide open. Or I may have done it to find out if kissing you would be as exciting as watching you do it to someone else. I don't know. All I know is that I liked it. No, I
loved
it. But I want to be with Brand. I love
Brand
. How does that make any sense?”

“It makes perfect sense. You want the love of your life to make out with the mysterious best friend for your viewing pleasure. Congratulations, you're now a dude.”

Emily was sure Jet had tried for a glib tone, but his voice was far too husky to achieve it. She smiled. “Actually, I'm pretty damn sure I'm a woman.”

“Believe me, so am I.” His glance encompassed her from head to toe. It was enough to make Emily's blood sizzle. “I'm also sure you're playing with fire, talking to me like this.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm not one to sit on my hands and I might do something about it.”

That's what I'm counting on.

Her own thought shocked Emily into silence. A moment later the metallic creak of the ferry's ramp being lowered filled the air, and the gate opened so they could drive off.

Emily's palms turned damp as the distance between them and Mulholland Homestead shortened. Was she really thinking what she was thinking? Could it actually happen the way she pictured it or was she kidding herself?

She must be out of her mind. Out of her mind with arousal, maybe. She'd never felt this turned on in all her life.

And if Brand walked out on her after she made her admissions, she might end up with no way to alleviate the situation.

Brand was going out of his mind.

It was dark and Emily hadn't come home. She'd said she needed to get away and he was trying to respect that, but not calling to tell him she'd be late wasn't like her. By now he was desperate to know she wasn't lying unconscious in a ditch somewhere.

Or worse.

Brand ran a hand over his hair as though the act could erase the thought from his mind. Her losing track of time or her phone battery going flat were more likely outcomes than her being dead. But his life had never followed the path of ordinary or likely. He knew better than anyone that people died
all the time
.

Like his mother. He'd come home from school to find her in bed. So many times he'd come home and she'd be asleep, or passed out more like it. But that day, somehow he'd sensed she wasn't merely asleep even before he approached the bed and saw the needle, saw her wide-open eyes and the gray pallor of her face.

Then years later, his father. Boyd Walker had been shot and left to die in a drug deal gone wrong. And of course in Afghanistan the fun times had continued. With what he'd already been through, Brand had figured he could handle anything. He'd been wrong.

In Brand's life losing people suddenly and violently was the norm. Now, he couldn't shake the sense of impending doom. The
what if
scenarios flickered through his brain like a horror movie montage that cast Emily as the star.

Brand paced the living room, using the physical exercise to work off the stress. On the rug by the door, Gus and George studied him, their heads moving from side to side like they were watching a particularly riveting tennis match.

Brand ceased his pacing long enough to bend down and give them both a scratch behind the ears. “She'll be back soon.”

He said it as much for his benefit as for theirs.

Five minutes later, when Brand thought his brain might be about to explode with his racing thoughts, the shine of headlights coming down the driveway made him halt his pacing. In the evening gloom, he could just make out the shape of a white four-wheel drive as it parked alongside the house. It was Emily's car.