Irreversible Damage (Irreparable) (22 page)

She tilts her head. “You’re hurt, and you feel betrayed. The two usually lead to us being selfish.”

I put my head on her shoulder, exhaling a deep breath. “Tug said he’s not with Annabelle.”

I feel her shoulder lift. “I never thought he was.”

I lift my head and stare at her in disbelief. I’m not sure I heard her correctly. “What?”

“Anyone could see how attached he is to you. I never believed for a second that he moved on with that girl.”

I’m shocked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She smiles, a knowing smile. The one reserved for mothers. “If I had, would you have believed me?”

My brow furrows as I think about it. “I don’t know…maybe…probably…no.”

She lets out a small laugh. “I didn’t think so.”

Does any of it matter now? “But I know what I saw.”

Her hand rubs circles on my back. “Did you ever ask Brady?”

I stand up and turn away from her. “No.” God, how can she ask me that?

“I know what you saw looked bad, but you don’t know what happened once you walked away.” She gets up from my bed when I don’t respond. I feel her behind me.

I turn to face her. “I don’t want to know.”

She laughs, a little too condescendingly. Why is she laughing at me? She’s upsetting me, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think it was on purpose. “Don’t you lie to me, Victoria Marie. You wouldn’t be talking to me if you didn’t want to know.”

I wish she weren’t right. I do want to know. It’s hearing Brady actually admit it that’s kept me from asking.

 “You’re right. I think I’m afraid to hear the truth.”

“That’s understandable, but that fear is keeping you from being happy.”

I shrug, as if my happiness is no big deal. Lately, it isn’t. “I’m happy here with you and Dad.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not the same kind of happiness, and you know it.”

I do.

“You don’t have to decide tonight. Sleep on it, and make a decision when you have a clear head.”

I beam up at her, feeling a whole lot better. “Thanks, Mom.”

After my mother leaves, I know without a doubt Brady is the only man I ever want to be with. It dawns on me that we never actually talked about losing our baby. Maybe I never gave him a chance to talk. Every decision I made after losing Mona has been wrong. I abandoned Brady emotionally long before I moved to Minnesota. Of course he signed the papers and buried himself in his career. It’s what he always does when he’s hurting. His need to mask his pain started early on in childhood and escalated to serious abuse in adulthood. Women and sex became an easy escape. I admit music is a healthier way to mask his feelings about my leaving, but it doesn’t ease my guilt. After classes are over tomorrow, I’m going to call him.

It’s time we talk about our baby girl. He also needs to explain how far things went with Annabelle.

The next morning, I wake with a sense of excitement. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I actually deserve to be happy.

If I didn’t have classes, I’d call Brady right now.

I make my way into the kitchen. My mom is sitting at the breakfast nook, sipping tea, her hair pulled in a tight ponytail as she reads the paper.

I practically skip into the kitchen. “Morning.” I’m so happy it sounds like I’m singing.

My mom looks up from the paper. “Judging from your cheerfulness, you’ve decided.”

I nod with a smile. “I’m going to call him.”

She returns my smile. “I’m glad. It’s been breaking my heart to see you so miserable.”

If I were my parents, I would have kicked me out the first week. I’ve been unbearable. “I’m sorry.”

“No, honey. Don’t be sorry. You know, no matter how old you get, I’ll still worry about you.”

I understand. “I know you will, and I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” she says returning her eyes to her paper. “Oh, wait. Would you be a dear and bring me the paper?” She must really be losing it.

“Uh, Mom, you’re reading the paper.”

“Yes, I know that,” she snorts. “I’m not that old, for God’s sake. This is the
USA Today
. Your father didn’t bring in the
Journal
.”

“Oh, okay.” When I open the door, I swear I feel the earth shift. The second my gaze lands on his pools of endless green, my world once again revolves around him. He flashes a beautiful smile. One I haven’t seen in so long, it causes my heart to sputter.

I’m deeply in love with him, and in this exact moment, I have no idea why I left him.

The lump in my throat is so large it feels like I’m choking on a giant jawbreaker. Even if I could manage to speak, I have no idea what to say to him.

I suddenly don’t care about anything in our painful past.

“Oh, God, Brady! I’m sorry!” My arms are immediately around his neck as I wail uncontrollably. He holds me a few inches off the ground, holding on to me so tight, I can barely breathe, but I don’t care. I don’t want him to let me go.

I want him to stay right here with me in his arms because it is here that I realize exactly how perfect he is for me. There’s no one else in this vast world who can help me overcome my pain. He completes me.

“Shhh…” His smooth lips brush against my ear before his nose skims my cheek. God, I’ve missed him.

He leans back long enough to align our mouths. His tongue traces the seam of my lips. I open my mouth, welcoming the kiss I know is coming. My body sizzles as heat fills me from the inside out.  The anticipation is almost too much to bear. I don’t have to wait long before his tongue darts into my mouth. He kisses me like it’s the last kiss he’ll ever have, our tongues battling in our mouths to see which one of us missed the other the most.

“Uh, umm.”

Oh, shit! Mom.

Brady pulls back and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. A dusting of color sweeps over his cheeks. Desire or embarrassment, I’m not exactly sure, but judging by my mother’s near cackle, she thinks the situation is humorous.

Her gaze meets Brady’s. “I told you it wouldn’t take long.”

Brady flashes a guilty grin at me. Wait! I narrow my eyes at my mother, who I’m sure has been in cahoots with my…my…damn!  I’m not sure what he is officially, but I am positive he’s the love of my life, and he and my sneaky mother have just played me. “Dad didn’t forget to bring in the
Journal
, did he?”

“Nope.” She smirks like the traitor she is. “He took it with him to work.” She reaches for her purse and keys off the table next to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the gym for a while, and then I’ll be having lunch with a friend, and then…I’m doing a little shopping, so I’ll be gone a long time. You two have fun.”

I’m going to die. My mother basically just told me to have sex in her home. That shift I felt in the earth was obviously bigger than I thought.

When my eyes find Brady, he looks worried. “Are you mad?”

I smile, shaking my head. “No, Brady I’m thrilled. I’ve missed you so much.”

He holds my hands gently between us. “I couldn’t wait another day. I told you before, when you’re not with me, there’s not enough air. I need you to breathe.”

My knees nearly buckle. I want to jump him. I can’t. We have to discuss a few things first. We can’t rush back into this. “I feel the same way, but we need to talk.”

He half-smiles. “I know.”

I give him a gentle shove toward the kitchen. “Come on — I’ll make you breakfast.”

I’m a ball of nerves. How do I start this conversation? Do I just come out and ask why he slept with Annabelle before I’d even gotten on the plane? I decide to put if off. I don’t want our happy mood to end just yet.

“What would you like to eat?”

“Hmmm…that is a loaded question.” He smiles playfully as I blush. “Pancakes. I’ll settle for pancakes.”

God, I’ve missed him. “You got it.”

“With syrup…”

“Okay.” I laugh, watching his lips lift into a smug grin.

“And whipped cream…and strawberries.”

“Demanding as ever.” I smirk. “Would you like your laundry done, too, Mr. Hunter?”

His head tilts as he gives a small laugh. “I might…depends on how dirty my clothes get.”

I ignore his flirting under protest from my body. I’m not ready to venture into pillow talk territory. I go about making pancakes while Brady busies himself with cleaning the strawberries. When the pancakes are done, I fork a couple onto two plates and nod for Brady to have a seat at the table. We sit. I pour syrup over mine. Before I’ve set the bottle down, I hear the hiss of the whipped cream can just before my face is covered in it.

“Brady!” I squeal in complete surprise.

“God, I love that smile.” His sexy voice is full of lustful promises.

Oh, no, he doesn’t. This is war!

After I wipe my face clean, I hold a strawberry out for him. The old “fake with the left, attack with the right” theory. He’s distracted by my flirtatious berry and doesn’t see it coming until syrup drips from the front of his hair.

I set the bottle of syrup down and lean back in my chair, waiting for the attack. I don’t wait long before I’m face to face with the nozzle of the whipped cream can, again. I dart from my chair, only getting a foot before his arm has a firm grip on my waist. He squeezes the whipped cream over my head, my neck, and my face.

Our laughter combines, filling the room with a sound I haven’t heard in forever. We’re happy. We both come to the realization together, stopping and locking our gazes on each other with a hint of regret nudging us. I pick up a towel from the counter and wipe my face. At the same time we utter a “sorry,” and then laugh.

With our eyes still locked, Brady shoots a dollop of whipped cream onto his finger and offers it to me. I slip my tongue over it, removing most of the pile, and then suck it clean. Next, he slips a finger through the syrup that now glistens on both sides of his cheeks. He then sweeps his syrup-laced fingers over my lips before he’s kissing me. “Mmm…syrup and whipped cream. Two of my favorite things.”

“I thought I was your favorite thing.”

“No.”  He smirks. “You’re my most favoritest.”

“That’s much good English, Mr. Hunter.”

His smile grows larger. “I have another favorite.”

“What?”

“You calling me ‘Mr. Hunter.’”

I lift a flirty brow. “Is that right, Mr. Hunter?”

He growls before pushing me backward until I’m against the wall. He fists our hands together above our heads. I inhale against him. He smells like a sugar house. It’s heavenly. He looks directly into my eyes, and my legs nearly give out as my body responds to him the way it always has.

I know this look.

We’ll be talking later.

“I’ve missed you.” He smiles at me, and it’s perfect.

“I’ve missed you, too.” I bite my lip, feeling bashful.

“Good, then it’s time we get reacquainted.”

The thought of having sex in my parents’ house is bad enough, but in their kitchen feels so much worse. Where they share meals and read the morning paper. I’ll never be able to look them in the eye. It’s not happening.  “My room.”

Brady follows me up to my room, closing the door once we’re through it. We stand, staring at each other. Neither of us knows what to say. My heart clogs my throat as my pulse pounds violently. His hand brushing across my cheek breaks the trance. I lean into his touch. It’s sticky, which makes me smile. “I was going to stay,” I finally say, putting an end to the silence.

The hurt look on his face makes me want to hold him. Desire runs through my blood. I want him, but I have to know what happened with him and Annabelle first.

“Why didn’t you?”

I swallow hard. I’m about to find out for sure what happened. I’m truthfully not sure I even care anymore. It won’t change how I feel. He’s here now, and he wants me, so whatever he had with her obviously didn’t mean anything. I hang my head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

His thick brown lashes lower as his head dips to look me in the eyes. I hold his gaze, lost in his warm green perfection. “I didn’t sleep with Annabelle.”

I blink back. “You didn’t?”

He smiles sadly at me. “No.” He’s definitely hurt that I thought he did.

“I’m sorry.” I press a kiss to his lips. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He kisses me back, slow and gentle. His hands find my face as he breaks the kiss. “Don’t you fucking ever doubt my love for you again. I would never betray you.”

It’s a firm tone, meant to be taken deadly serious, as it is. I will never doubt him or the love we share again. “I won’t.” His words stab at my conscience. He didn’t betray me. I betrayed him.

One of his hands moves from my cheek to the back of my head, tangling in my hair. The other hand pushes into my lower back, drawing our bodies together. His mouth parts as his tongue slips out to wet his lips. “I’m going to make love to you now.”

I sigh deeply, ready to melt.

Before I can respond, his tongue delves into my mouth. I sweep my tongue over his, relishing the taste of him. He pulls me up from the floor. I wrap my arms and legs around him. He carries me to the bed, where he releases my mouth long enough to lower me onto my back. His hard body settles over mine, relaxing into me slowly before bringing his mouth back to mine. My body reacts to his touch like it’s starving. Brady lets out a soft exhalation, deepening the kiss as if he’s making up for all the kisses we’ve missed. I’m delighting in the subtle trembling of his body and the noises he makes as his hands work up and down my thigh. I feel for the bottom of his T-shirt and slip my hands underneath, running my fingers over his bare skin.

“Take it off.”

He lifts himself to remove the shirt. I gaze at his chest, skimming my fingers over his perfectly defined muscles. My eyes zero in on a new tattoo. My heart swells until I think it might explode. I feel like I could cry. He never forgot out little girl. Her name runs just below his collarbone, along with the date we lost her. He notices my smile, and he knows what put it there, but he doesn’t say anything. His hands travel to the base of my shirt. He gently slips it over my head. His sweltering gaze travels over me before he brings his mouth back down to mine. Our warm bodies seal together as though they were designed to do so. I run my hands down his back, feeling each muscle and reacquainting my hands with his skin. His lips never leave mine as his hands continue exploring, brushing up my thigh, dipping into the curve of my waist, and finally circling over my breasts. I sigh at the amazing sensation of his hands on my skin. It has been such a miserably long time.