Our Chance (Los Rancheros #4) (8 page)

BOOK: Our Chance (Los Rancheros #4)
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We break into my parents’ house for some ice cream, and I let Trigg drive as I push the car down the driveway, like they have no idea we were there. They don’t normally keep their back doors unlocked, but he doesn’t need to know that.

We park in one of their pastures and listen to the cows as we share a pint of B & J.

“Did you used to come here when you were younger?” Trigg asks as he uses his spoon to scoop more ice cream out of the carton I’m holding.

“Yeah.”

“With Brody?”

I nod once and busy myself with getting out a chocolate fish that’s hiding.

“He’s kinda weird,” Trigg says into the darkness.

“Why?”

He scrunches up his face. “He just looks at you. A lot.”

I laugh and rest the ice cream on my knee.

Trigg looks over to me with an earnest expression. “No, Mom. I mean, like, a lot a lot.”

I release another chuckle. “Brody is weird.”

“I told you.”

The key to getting a muscle car into the garage without waking the whole house is to gain some momentum and then cut the engine. Sebastian learned that early, when the kids were babies.

We coast into the garage and close the doors quietly. I kiss his sticky cheek and whisper for him to brush his teeth before he goes to bed. Walking into the kitchen, I set my keys on the counter and look around. No Brody. I grab two beers, knowing he hasn’t left, and move through the house, checking in the study and living room before walking out of the screened front door.

He’s sitting on the wooden swing with his boots propped on the rail in front of him. I stand over him, taking in all that is Brody in a wife beater, and offer a bottle to him. “Boots with slacks, huh?”

He does some kind of head lift, grunt thing that means he’s amused and takes a swig. I sit next to him, our arms instantly warming as they touch, and try to put my feet on the rail like him. They fall, making us both laugh quietly in the night as frogs and grasshoppers make themselves known in the yard.

“How’s the little guy?”

I nod and take a drink. “He’s perfect. It was great to have some one on one time, though. We don’t get to do that very often.”

Brody starts picking at the label on his bottle. “Now that you’re here, you can have that probably any time you want.”

“Maybe,” I agree easily. “Did the kids go down for you okay?”

“Yup.”

“That’s good.”

Everything is so loud, yet not. I feel mellow, relaxed, as home floats around us, blips of memories from each little insect and animal flashes like a silent movie through my head. I sigh contently as Brody leans over to put his beer on the table next to him.

The next thing I know, I’m flying through the air as Brody raises me to straddle his lap. I narrowly avoid clocking him in the temple with my bottle and bend, purposefully setting it on table next to his.

When I sit up, I have to take in a breath, all that is Brody filling my lungs and making my blood run faster. He looks almost lazy, sleepy, all slouched in the swing, his hands still at my waist. His five o’clock shadow looks delicious, his skin shiny in the low glow of the flood lights over the garage in the distance.

I put my hands on his chest and move my eyes to intercept his that are locked on my breasts. “Brody.”

His lip twitches as his eyes glitter. I feel his hands flex and find myself rocking against him slightly.

“Jules,” I get in warning, making me grin.

“What, you don’t like that?”

His chest moves as he laughs, tilting his head to the other side.

“You know I do.”

“Well you put me here.”

He moves his hands to rock me against him this time as he sucks in a breath through his teeth. “I did do that.”

“Don’t think you’re getting in my pants, though. I’m not that kind of girl.”

“No,” Brody agrees through a smile, his teeth shining off of the dim light cast on us. “You’re just the kind of girl to get a guy all hot and bothered. You know what we used to call those?”

I purse my lips in thought. “Smart? Wholesome? And who the hell were you with that you weren’t getting any, Brody Denton?”

“You, my little Juliet. You get me hot and bothered
all
the fucking time. You always have, ever since I realized what girls were for.”

“You better mean something chauvinistic, like washing your clothes or cooking you dinner,” I warn him.

“Yes. I want you to fold my socks and ride my cock. How is that?”

I can’t keep a straight face, so I lean down and tickle Brody. He was always ticklish on his ribs. He doesn’t disappoint and jack knifes up, dropping his feet from the rail and almost has me going backwards with them. I snag his shirt in my fists to keep myself up as we try to be quiet.

Brody wraps his big arms around me and squeezes tight, resting his head on my chest. A funny moment turns into something serious and important in a heartbeat. I wrap my arms around his head and pull him as deeply into me as I can. His biceps flex, pushing into my ribs and constricting my breathing. That act alone makes me grit my teeth. Not in pain. We have a blender full of emotions, the past and present blending into a soupy mix of what the fuck do we do now.

“Brody. Brody,” I whisper against his stubbly cheek. I pull his head back so that I can get to his lips, shocked to see the shine of tear tracks on his face. “Brody.”

He opens his mouth as I lean into him and my eyes close at the taste. Brody tastes like home, and danger, and love. I feel like my shattered heart that was so painful for so long, fits back together for the first time in years.

He strokes his tongue against mine slowly. He’s half sitting off of the bench, pulled up to me, but he’s not even shaking with the effort. I move my head to change angles and rock against him, earning me another groan. We touch and feel and slide until we’re interrupted by a blinding light.

I fly over to my original seat on the swing and pull my shirt down.

“What’s up, bud?” Brody asks after he clears his throat.

“Nothing. Just wanted to see when Mom was going to sleep.”

“I’ll be right there, Trigg. Go grab your water bottle and head upstairs, okay?”

I hear the door shut again and look over at Brody as I run my hands through my hair. His lips are red and cheeks flushed. He looks so good, I don’t know whether to scold my children, or kiss them for interrupting us.

“Time to go.” I hop up and move to the door quickly. Brody moves more slowly, taking the beer bottles with him and grunts a response.

As he walks past me, he stops and leans on one leg. “I fear . . . that it’s our lot in life to sneak around and almost be caught. Just like always, Jules.”

He walks down the steps on light feet, taking a swig from one of the bottles in his hands.

“What did I do? I didn’t do anything.”

He rolls his eyes and glares at me. “I’m a fucking tripod, woman. But you already knew that.”

I shrug slightly and look at my nails. “Maybe.”

I hear him curse and can’t hold in the giggle anymore.

There’s nothing like necking on a school night.

Chapter 7

A few days after our late night make out session, it’s apparent that a new routine is emerging. Brody brings milk and eggs in the morning as I’m feeding the kids. He usually leaves before I take the kids to the bus stop, so there hasn’t been any more morning delight for me.

I work until lunchtime. Usually Brody’s back from where he goes by then, to share a quiet meal with me. It’s nice to have him around. I’m not used to having another adult to talk to on a daily basis, much less more frequently. After lunch, we get out in the orchard and do maintenance on the trees and garden. We laugh and joke, carrying on traditions like blaring rock music for the trees. Granny always did that. She said it vibrated the roots to produce. Who knows if it’s true, but man it makes the day go by faster jamming out the whole time.

Once the kids get home, it’s homework and housework for me while Brody does his own thing, meeting back at the house for dinner. When the kids are tucked into bed, I always find him on the porch with a cold beer.

Some nights get intense, in the physical aspect. Other times we just enjoy being in each other’s arms. There are lots of sighs and deep breaths taken in shirts and hair.

Now it’s Saturday, and we’re going over to my brother Will’s house for our official welcome home celebration.

“You would think, this being a party for you and all, that you wouldn’t have to bring so much food,” Brody says as he passes me, headed to the garage again.

“Trigg, grab that for me, bud.” I put the ladle he gives me on top of a covered glass dish with the coleslaw in it, ready for Brody to take out to the van on his next trip.

As soon as he walks in, I start talking as I grab more dishes from the fridge. “Who else is going to make the fruit and veggie dishes other than me, Brody? Really. Mom and Dad have meat, that’s just how it goes when you’re in the business.” I look at Jet and roll my eyes, making him giggle. Before I lose my smile, I feel fingers tickling my ribs, making me giggle, too.

“I saw that,” Brody growls softly in my ear before grabbing another dish and walking outside.

Harper finishes brushing her Barbie’s hair and asks me, “Why do you think Brody comes over all the time?”

I stop what I’m doing and give her my attention. “Does it bother you?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I just wondered what happened to his girlfriend. Seems like she would want to see him, too.”

“I . . . You’re right,” I say as Harper and I watch Brody walk back into the kitchen.

He comes to lean his elbows on the counter and grab a carrot stick from the tray I’m supposed to be wrapping up. “Of course Harper’s right. What are you right about, princess?”

Hearing him call my daughter an endearment, seeing him in my kitchen, leaning against my counter so casually, I’m stunned. We’ve been here a week and this man has burrowed into our lives like a very sexy bot fly.

“Harper was just saying that your girlfriend might want to spend time with you.” I busy myself wrapping up the tray as I talk. Brody pauses mid-chew before studying everyone.

“Yeah, she would probably like that, if we were still together. We kind of broke up.”

“Kind of?” Trigg asks.

Brody cuts his eyes to my oldest. “We did,” he says firmly.

Harper asks the next question. “So you aren’t cheating by spending time with Mom and us?”

Brody lowers the carrot that’s been frozen halfway to his mouth through the conversation. “No. Do you want me to not spend as much time here? Is it bothering you guys?”

I hold my breath until Jet jumps up and starts climbing him like a monkey, yelling, “No way. You’re the coolest, dude.” Brody puts a hand under Jet so that he doesn’t fall before he has a chance to get a hold of his neck as he watches the other kids with apprehension.

Harper looks down and shakes her head. “No, you can stay,” she says with a blush coming to her cheeks. It’s my turn to shake my head. So awkward.

“Trigg, if you want me to go, I’ll leave. No problem.”

Trigg studies him with a look far too serious on his face. He looks down to where Brody has put his hand close to mine unconsciously on the counter, then up to me. I don’t know what expression is on my face. I don’t want to pressure him, and definitely want an honest answer. If they weren’t down with him being here then that would be all she wrote.

“Nah, you’re fine. For now.”

I feel my eyebrows rise at the insinuation. Brody lets out a breath and gives me a half shrug. “I’ll take it. Is this ready to go out to the car?”

I blink and look around. “Yeah. We need to go. Everybody get your shoes on and head out.”

As the kids scatter, I follow Brody with the last of the food. Brody does a double take on my face before straightening and putting his hand on either side of my jaw. “He’s the man of the house, Jules. He’s not giving it up for a guy who just shows up. I wouldn’t expect anything less. He’s a damn good kid.” I nod and squeeze his wrists before getting in the car as the kids file out of the house.

I sit in the passenger seat, belatedly realizing that Brody took over driving, just like he always used to. Moreover, I gave up the driver’s seat without a thought. I look back at the kids and the only one that seems to notice is Harper, because she’s got eyes on Brody. What the hell am I going to do about that?

I watch Brody as he rests his arm on the window, two fingers on the wheel. “You ever think you would be driving a minivan, Brody Denton?” I ask him quietly.

He looks over at me, biting the inside of his lip before pulling his sunglasses from where they are hung on the neck of his shirt. “Seems like a lifetime ago. But yeah.” He looks back to me and I can’t see anything except but my reflection in his mirrored aviator glasses.

I look away, out my window as mansions and crops go by. Brody turns on the radio and the kids start talking in the backseat.

“One day all of this is going to be ours, baby,” Brody said as we drive over potholes in the pasture.

“Yeah. I just wish it was sooner, ya know? We still have the rest of this year, plus four years of college. I don’t know why my parents won’t just give us our spread now. We know how to do it,” I pouted.

“Yeah, but it’s almost about the experience. College is about more than an education, Juliet. We’re gonna get to party, and do whatever the hell we want without worrying about parents everywhere,” Brody said with a smile on his face, his hand on my thigh.

“I just want to start our lives. I don’t need experiences. If we had a house of our own, we could have all the parties we want.”

“Well, I want to go to parties and get drunk and be in a fraternity.”

“What about all the hot girls? You want those too, right?” I accused him.

He shot me a disbelieving look. “What? No.”

“That’s part of the ‘experience,’ isn’t it? Do I not have enough for you?” I asked with tears in my eyes.

Brody stopped the truck abruptly, rocking us forward before I scrambled out. “Wait. Where are you going?”

I took off in the dark, not knowing where I was going.

“What the fuck, Juliet?”

“Do you want other girls, Brody? Is that what this is about? You want to sow your wild oats or whatever the hell they say? ‘Cause you can go. I’m not holding you here. I thought this was what we both wanted.”

“It is what I want. Jesus Christ. Are you on your period or some shit?”

The tears that had been threatening to fall spilled over as I backed away from him. He came after me, raising a hand, but I slapped it away. “No. You go and get your experience. Get all that wildness out of you and see if I’m waiting when you’re ready to settle down.”

“Jules, what are you doing? We were talking about college, now you’re losing your damn mind.”

“I’m serious. I’m breaking up with you. I’ll see you at UCLA.”

“Why are you doing this? I have to have you home in like, ten minutes. Get in the car,” Brody told me as he pointed widely back to his truck.

“Because.” My heart broke, thinking I wasn’t good enough for him. Maybe I didn’t kiss the way he wanted. Maybe he wanted someone who was more aggressive, less opinionated. I didn’t know. My mind felt like it would explode. “Maybe I want some practice, too.”

He stared at me, speechless for a long minute before exploding. “What the fuck?!”

“Don’t tell me you don’t like the way Tina bends over in math class every time she gets up. I’ve seen you look.”

“Every guy looks, Juliet! She only wears underwear half the time.”

My chin went back with the blow and he lunged for me, realizing too late his mistake. Grabbing me, he wrapped me up tightly in his arms. I breathed in fast through my nose a few times, absorbing that smell that was all I’ve ever wanted, before pushing away. “I’m leaving. All we’ve ever known is each other, Brody. This will be a good thing for us in the long run. Then we can start college as a couple . . . or not. I’ll give you until then to decide.”

“I don’t need to decide. I know. Right now, I know that I only want you. So what if I look?”

“It just doesn’t feel very good, is all. I’ll see you around.”

“What, you’re going to walk home?”

“Yes. Leave me alone. Go tell your buddies you’re single and see how fast the girls land in your lap. You’ll see what I mean.”

I forced one foot in front of the other for long minutes as he watched me walk away. I could just see the porch light in the distance. Brody didn’t start the car for a long time, but when he did my eyes closed. I walked blindly as the headlights shined over me and swung away. He spun out, his tires spitting mud in his anger. Then he was gone.

I looked back, wanting to take everything from his ears and stuff it back in my mouth. His taillights glowed like weird demon eyes from afar before disappearing as he turned a corner. That’s when I collapsed. That’s when I cried my heart into the soil below. What have I done?

I blink back to the present when the van starts shaking. I look over to see Brody sitting with his hands in his lap. The kids are piling out of the car, but he doesn’t make a move to leave.

“What?” I ask before licking my lips and looking out my window again.

“You were out there the whole ride over.”

“Sorry.”

Brody’s eyebrows go up and he looks at me expectantly. “What were you thinking about?”

I clear my throat and unbuckle my seatbelt. Popping the door open, I say over my shoulder, “Nothing. Just tired.”

Brody follows me to the trunk, but stops me before I can grab a dish and walk away. With a hand on my arm, he stalls my lean into the van and cuts right in front of where I’m about to grab. He sits on the bumper as I straighten and try to cross my arms. Brody’s lip twitches as he grabs my hands.

“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, pretty girl.”

I slip the sunglasses off his nose and put them on to conceal my eyes.

“Do you even remember what that first fight was about?” I ask as he takes my hands again when I try to cross my arms.

“Mmm.” He nods as if he just figured out the clues to my mood. “Yeah. I remember it all. It’s engraved into my head, I went over it so many times.”

I look to the side and mumble, “Such stupid kids we were
. I
was.”

“Hey.” Brody stands up and cups my face in his palms. “You said it yourself. I may have issues with how it all went down, but you’ve got amazing kids because of it.”

I nod as I turn to look over my shoulder, him following my movement and backing me up against the frame of the van. My eyes are watching the kids on the tire swing hanging from the huge oak in the front yard. I immediately see Jet on the swing.

Brody starts talking, and I hear him. I do. But my attention is on checking the kids out of habit. “We were each other’s firsts, going through the pains of being a teenager and dealing with hormones. Both of us. But looking back at it, you have to agree we didn’t know shit about anything. Let’s just move forward, yeah?”

I watch Jet try to stand up on the swing.

“Jet, don’t do it,” I say softly.

Brody holds my jaw and gives me a hard, chaste kiss on the mouth. I break it and move my head to the side so that I can see my son. He says something else, joking about me not even listening to him, and he’s right. Because my son is trying to stand up on the tire that’s swinging from the huge branch overhead.

“Jet. Jet, sit down.”

“What?”

“JET!”

I see Jet’s foot slip on the tire in his tractionless shoes. Before I’m aware of what I’m doing, I push Brody away from my body, catching him unaware. He stumbles to the side, but my focus is on my baby, falling to the hard packed earth below.

I run. I take off in my maxi dress that I thought was so pretty. I don’t think about anything but getting to him. My feet move without thought, my heart in my throat as I race to his still body on the ground.

“Jet!” I yell, the sound of his name escaping my throat on a roar, nothing mattering in that moment but my son. In a blur, someone passes me, getting to my baby first.

I want to rip their hands off of him as they hold his head still. I collapse in a cloud of dust and slide to him, pulling ineffectively at the arms holding him. “Baby, baby. Talk to me, Jet,” I say over and over, my hands and arms inspecting him for broken bones and contusions.

BOOK: Our Chance (Los Rancheros #4)
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