All the Broken Pieces: (Broken Series Book 3) (32 page)

“I know. I’m sorry. I just got so emotional taking it all in.” My voice was small, shaky. “Your mom is everything I always dreamed of when I was little. I guess I was a little jealous of you today and that’s not fair.”

The smile I’d been so desperately wanting to see finally crept across his face. “She’s not perfect.” He leaned close, whispering. “I’ll give you a prime example… Once, she decided to sew my costume for Halloween. It was supposed to be the Hulk but she kept accidentally sewing the damn arm holes shut by accident whenever she tried to attach the padded sleeves. Did it like five times in a row. In the end, she got pissed off and cut a hole in her good sheets to make me a ‘ghost’ costume. It was the first truly epic fail I ever witnessed.” He was chuckling now. “Dad came home just as I was headed out to trick-or-treat in my floral patterned ghost sheet. I met him on the front lawn. He was scratching his head and looking at the sewing machine that was partially buried in the dirt from being spiked there by my colossally pissed-off mother. He looked at it, looked at my costume, and started laughing his ass off.”

“See? Your family is perfect even when they screw up,” I laughed, feeling suddenly better.

“I don’t know about that, but I got lots of extra sympathy candy that year. I made a killing in Snickers bars, as I recall.”

After our laughter faded, we settled down, resuming our original snuggling positions before either of us spoke again.

“I love your mom’s hugs. You know, I bet she hugged me five times today. There’s only one time I ever remember my mom even touching me without inflicting pain. One single, solitary time. I’ll never forget it.” I didn’t know where the admission came from but the memory was just so damn vivid in my mind that I couldn’t help myself. Brant went still beside me, the only sound was his soft breathing as he waited for me to continue. “I was six or seven, I think. I’d had a horrible cold for nearly a week and was heating up some soup I’d snagged the day before from the food bank. My back was to her when she walked in, but I could smell the alcohol on her as she passed by. I was standing at the stove so she had to walk by to get another bottle from the cabinet. I could barely see over the stove to stir my soup, and my arm was getting tired from reaching so high for so long.”

I actually felt the numbness and muscle fatigue in my arm as I spoke. “When she got her bottle, she walked back by me and reached out, stroking my hair in one long pass before leaning down to nuzzle the top of my head. She muttered something about the soup smelling good as I stood there frozen in utter shock. Then she was gone again, shuffling back down the short hallway without looking back, the door to her room clicking shut behind her as she left me all alone, and sick. I remember crying as I ate the damn chicken noodle soup and crawled back under my dirty sheets. I’ve never forgotten that one fleeting moment of kindness from her.”

“It’s good that you have one good memory, I guess. I wish like fuck that you had a lot more.” His voice was tight, controlled as he fought not to let me see his anger.

“Good? That’s hardly a good memory. Not in my book. She didn’t do me any favors by being motherly for that five second span. All she did was show me that she was capable of showing affection, capable of being kind. Before that, I thought she was broken, that the mothering part of her just didn’t work, and that meant it wasn’t her fault. But when she showed me she was capable of it, it made me think there was something wrong with
me
. I was unlovable. I was broken. I was worthless because my mother couldn’t find the desire to care about me.” I shook my head, blinking back tears. “It would have been better if she never showed me any kindness at all.”

Brant’s arms tightened around my shoulders, pulling me into his side protectively. “You’re not broken or worthless, and you’re certainly not unlovable.” He kissed the top of my head as I huddled into his side and rested it on his chest, the steady thrum of his heart loud in my ear. “I absolutely adore you, baby. You’re the single most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You deserve kindness. You deserve all those hugs my mom gave you, and the thousands still to come—because she meant it when she said she was a hugger. You deserve love. And you have it, every bit I have to offer, for as long as you can stand putting up with my perpetual weirdness.”

“I think I’ll keep you around for a while then, because I absolutely adore you, too.” I kissed his chest softly. “Besides, you’re not so weird. And I rather enjoy knowing I can make you blush whenever I want.” I looked up at him and winked, digging my fingers into his ribs playfully, latching onto the opportunity for a subject change. The bed creaked softly beneath us and I had to shift back an inch or two to avoid a wayward spring. “So, you really had this same bed when you were a kid?” I asked, wincing as I perused my side with my fingers. Damn spring got me good. I was just thankful it didn’t make an appearance earlier, when we were doing
much
more than lying there talking. Talk about a mood killer. A spring in the ass would definitely do it.

“Yep. I think I went from a twin size to this one when I was around eight years old. It’s been the same bed,” he watched me rubbing my sore ribs. “probably the same mattress ever since then. My parents won’t let me refurnish this room with nicer things. Stubborn as mules, both of them.”

“Hmm…” I muttered.

“What?”

I shrugged one shoulder, the one not digging into the mattress. “I was just wondering if a lot of girls joined you in this bed over the years.”

“You heard my mom, I didn’t really bring girls home.”

I shook my head wryly. “Uh huh. I didn’t ask how many came home to meet the parents, though. Did I, Weirdo?”

He took a long breath, rubbing my shoulder. “The answer is the same. Just one, aside from you.”

“Zoey?” It was one of those questions that wasn’t really a question because the answer was obvious. I kind of regretted asking, though. I’d only been trying to tease him because I half-expected him to blush.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Does that bother you?”

“Not at all,” I admitted, surprising myself with my honesty. “I actually kind of like the idea of her here. I’m sure being in this house made her as happy back then as it makes me now. This place, there’s something about it that feels like a constant hug. It’s comforting. From what you’ve described, I’m sure her home life wasn’t easy, but I bet your mom gave her lots of hugs and made her feel at home here just like she has with me. I’m glad Zoey had that.”

He looked over at me for a minute, studying my face. “You’re fucking amazing, do you know that?”

“Huh?” I frowned, not understanding what he meant.

“The way you said that about Zoey… the compassion you feel for someone you never even got a chance to meet… you blow me away. Your capacity for empathy. It’s something really special. I saw it at Kade’s when Lenn was upset that he’d insulted you, instead of being—rightfully—pissed, you comforted him. And just now, the way you talked about Zoey’s happiness like you had a personal stake in it…” He shook his head, smiling at me with total adoration. “I fucking love you so much right now I can’t even find words strong enough to tell you.”

I skimmed my hand down his torso, across his abdomen toward that glorious V that led to the true happiest place on earth, teasing him with my fingertips. “If you’re having trouble finding the words, perhaps there are some actions you can try.” I gave him a saucy wink, taking his swelling cock in my hand.

The arm I’d been laying on suddenly gripped me and crushed my body against him as he rolled over on top of me. I giggled softly and removed my hand, leaving him perfectly lined-up to enter my waiting body.

“If you’re looking for action, I’m definitely your man.” He pressed against my opening but withdrew slightly, teasing.

I gripped his ass with both hands and pulled him down until he was seated all the way inside me, groaning at the exquisite feel of that first hot thrust. “Damn right, you are.”

•••

“I’ve never eaten so much in my entire life.” I groaned, my fork clattering to my empty plate. It was nearing two o’clock the next day. Dinner had been cooked, served, and devoured in record time. I was so full I could barely breathe and still I kept looking at the gorgeous coconut cake sitting on the counter.

Jennie must have noticed my lustful gaze because she nodded toward it and winked. “I hope the birthday girl saved room for cake.” She tossed disparaging looks at her son and husband, clucking her disapproval. “Those with less than warm feelings about coconut will be settling for store bought apple pie this year and will kindly keep the bitching to a minimum. I made the traditional pumpkin and sweet potato, but I just didn’t have the time or desire to mess with all those apples. I finally have a fellow coconut lover in this house and that takes priority.” She stuck her tongue out at Brant who just shook his head, clearing the last bite of turkey from his plate.

“Fine, but remember what we talked about.” He eyed his mom, a conspiratorial look on his face. “Lauren and I have to head out in a couple hours.”

“We do?” I asked, confused.

“Yep.” He leaned in, dropping a chaste kiss on my lips. “We do. And no questions, birthday girl. Just trust me.”

There was a twinkle of mischief in his eyes that made me laugh even as my heart fluttered with nervousness. Why was he looking at me like that?

I wasn’t sure whether to be excited or afraid.

But with Brant, excitement always won out.

He made me brave.

Leaving the Matthews’ house in the rearview mirror—Jennie still standing in the driveway waving—I turned to Brant and flashed my most pitiful expression. “Not even a little clue?”

He flicked a glance at me and quickly returned his eyes to the road, avoiding the persuasive power of my pouty mouth. “Nope. You’ll just have to wait.”

“But it’s my birthday,” I whined, using every tactic I could think of.

“Yes, it is. And your presents… well, aren’t going to come any faster if you nag. Just relax and let me do my thing here. Okay, gorgeous? You won’t be disappointed.”

“Presents? Plural? How many?” I frowned. “I told you I didn’t want anything. And I already had an amazing dinner with your folks, so that should count as my present, if you insist on my getting one.” My hand flew to my mouth. “Shit. Your mom had all that food packed up for you and you forgot it. She’ll be so upset.”

He chuckled. “No, I didn’t forget. We’ll grab it tomorrow before we head back to Denson.”

“What? We’re already on the way back to Denson.”

“Actually, we’re not. Not until tomorrow.”

I motioned at the road, the scenery whipping by. “Um… then what the hell are we in the truck for? Seriously, you’re making my eye twitch. Will you just tell me what the hell is going on?”

“We’re on the way to the airport. It’s about thirty miles from here.” He didn’t look my way but I could see the smirk on his face. He was giving me just enough information to make me want to throttle him.

“The airport? Why?”

“Because your first present is too far away for us to drive there.”

I threw my head back and groaned loudly, talking to myself as I fought not to strangle him. “If this man doesn’t just tell me what the hell is going on, I’ll scream.”

“I like making you scream…” he laughed “Please, be sure to follow it up with ‘
harder, faster, oh God, you fuck me so good, Brant!
’” His voice is high and breathy, imitating me.

I eyed him with steely determination. “Keep on, Matthews, and I’ll go back to screaming my own name. Alone.”

That sobered his jovial expression.

Smirk at me, will ya?

“Fine. We’re attending a special event in New York.” He flipped on his turn signal and took the highway on-ramp, giving a little smirk as the truck rocketed forward to match the posted speed. “I guess I could have let my mom drive us to the airport to prevent having to leave my truck there, but she’s entirely too slow for my tastes and we’re in a hurry.” He gave the gas pedal another nudge, surpassing the speed limit by a fair margin. “We fly out in a couple hours and return tomorrow afternoon. That’s it. No more clues, no more hints, no more damn questions.” He turned to pin me with a hungry stare. “And we both know you like my cock pounding into you far too much to cut me off, so find a more threatening card to play, baby.”

I folded my arms over my chest and stared out the window, pressing my thighs together to alleviate the ache his words elicited. He was right, damn it. There was nothing I loved more than the feel of Brant Matthews thrusting into me. No matter how frustrated I was with the secrecy, we both knew he’d be back inside me at the next available opportunity.

Hmm… maybe the first present was going to be an induction into the mile-high club.

My mouth curled up at the thought. If that wasn’t the plan before, it was now.

Brant was about to fly some extremely friendly skies.

•••

We landed in New York and were immediately thrust into a massive crowd, all waiting for luggage. Luckily, we only had our carry-on bags, so the carousel wasn’t our destination. Brant had shifted my stuff around and managed to cram all of the important stuff into one travel bag—the rest was back at his parent’s house awaiting our return. He was sneaky—and brilliant—because having to wait for bags would have been a nightmare.

Problem was, the droves of people who had yet to claim their bags were jammed into the wide corridor like sardines, blocking our path anyway. The entire airport seemed to be packed with sweaty, grouchy, holiday travelers who didn’t seem to comprehend that we were looking to leave rather than cut in line. One old lady took a swipe at Brant, who side-stepped her easily and even thoughtfully helped her regain her balance after she nearly fell.

I should have asked if she was related to Bonnie.