Worth the Fall, page 16
So logical.
This man was filled with it. I watched as he shifted on the couch, removing the ice and putting it on the floor. It probably wasn’t even cold anymore.
“Can I ask you something?” His blue eyes were no longer stormy.
“I don’t think it would stop you if I said no.” I let out a little laugh.
“It wouldn’t.” He grinned in response, and I felt my shoulders relax, the instinct to flee dissipating. “Do you regret getting married?”
It was a question I hadn’t even asked myself yet, but the answer came to me so quickly that I didn’t even second-guess it. “No, I don’t regret it. I just wish that I hadn’t been so naive about it.”
“Why do you think you were naive? I’m not judging. I’m sincerely asking.”
I took my time formulating my thoughts so that they made sense. Or at least they did to me. “First of all, it’s a surreal thing when a guy says that he wants to marry you. All of your insecurities kind of go flying right out the window. Here’s this man, and he’s declaring that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. Flaws and all. He knows all of your ugly parts, and he’s telling you that they’re okay. That you’re still lovable, even when you think you’re more imperfect than anything else.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever said any of those thoughts out loud before—at least not to anyone other than myself. Thomas looked a little awestruck, and I couldn’t believe that I’d admitted all of that to him. He stayed quiet, his blue eyes watching me, as if waiting for me to tell him more, so I did.
“I think I feel naive because it’s obvious that I romanticized the situation instead of seeing it clearly, you know? I figured that Eli would grow up, and once he did, certain things about him would change,” I answered, feeling foolish. “But people don’t change.”
I watched him swallow hard as he shifted his legs again.
“Not typically, but they can grow up. I don’t think it was naive of you to assume that he would at some point.”
“It feels that way. Like I knew exactly who I was getting when I married him, and then I suddenly expected someone totally different.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” he said, as if he knew my situation better than I did.
“Okay, fine. It might not have been suddenly. But at some point, when I started having more success at work, I wanted him to want that, too, you know? I expected him to want the same things that I did. But he just wanted everything to stay the same. He liked his life how it was. He was comfortable.”
Thomas shook his head. “That’s not on you, Brooklyn. You weren’t naive. You matured. You evolved. The right man won’t sit there and watch you outgrow him. He’ll grow right along with you or at least try his best to.”
“He didn’t try at all,” I said, hoping he believed me.
“It sounds like he didn’t. Could you imagine staying with the wrong person for the rest of your life just because you’d made a vow to do it?”
My stomach curled and twisted. “No. That’s why I had to leave,” I said. “If I didn’t choose myself, I knew that no one ever would.”
“I’d choose you,” he said, and I felt my mouth open as Thomas leaned toward me, his hand still chilled from the ice as he touched my leg.
I couldn’t crawl across the couch quick enough as I moved toward him, straddling his body before I took my next breath. Something hard poked through his pants and hit me right at my core. I couldn’t stop myself from grinding against it; it felt so damn good. Everything about Thomas made me feel better than I ever had.
“Brooklyn,” he groaned before gripping the back of my neck and pulling me down toward him. “Only a fool would let you go,” he said before kissing me.
His tongue snaked inside my mouth with purpose, and my insides instantly heated to a boil. We were feral, animalistic in our desire for one another. I felt like I might come apart if he didn’t start touching me underneath my clothes. Just thinking about his skin on mine almost made me fall to pieces.
So, when he pulled away gently to break the kiss, I almost started whimpering.
“You have to forgive yourself at some point for your marriage ending, Brooklyn,” he said softly, his lips still achingly close to my own.
“I just haven’t figured out how to yet,” I admitted in a whisper.
His body tensed. “You just need more time,” he suggested, his voice taking on a slightly disappointed tone.
“You’re probably right.”
Thomas lifted me off of his lap and placed me on my feet next to the couch and I knew the night was over.
“I should probably head out.” I thumbed behind me before he could be the one to ask me to leave.
“I’ll walk you,” he offered, and I didn’t argue because I knew it would be no use.
I grabbed my purse and jacket while I mentally tried to figure out exactly what had happened to throw our vibe into a tailspin.
We walked to my car in silence, and Thomas gave me a soft but quick kiss on the mouth.
He shut my driver’s door for me, and I started the engine, unable to shake the feeling that the kiss had somehow felt like a goodbye.
Like I might not get the chance to do it again.
I gave Thomas a wave as I pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. I wasn’t sure what had changed, but something had.
And definitely not for the better.
NO TRICKS, JUST TREATS
THOMAS
I’d made good on my promise to Brooklyn and not ignored her or avoided her at work since the other night. What I had done, however, was keep all contact professional and pretend like I’d never kissed her lips, even though it replayed in my mind a thousand times a day. I wondered if it was killing her the same way that it was killing me.
If it was, she didn’t fucking act like it. She walked around the resort like absolutely nothing had changed, greeting me with a megawatt smile before heading back into her office, that ass of hers shaking the whole time, like she knew I was watching.
She probably did.
My phone rang at my desk, and I glanced at it, noticing that it was my dad’s office line calling. My assistant answered and put him on hold before I shouted to her that I had it.
Pressing the flashing button, I answered, “Hey, Dad.”
“Meet me in my office,” he said, his tone a little undecipherable.
“Be right down.” I hung up.
When I stepped into the hallway, I practically bowled over Brooklyn.
“Oh, Thomas. Sorry.”
My eyes shot to hers, the look in them unmistakable. She still wanted me. But wanting each other wasn’t the problem.
“It was my fault,” I said.
“It kind of was,” she agreed with a grin, that smart-ass mouth delivering barbs, like usual.
I tried to maneuver around her right as she tried to move around me. We ended up going in the same direction, still blocking one another’s paths. A laugh escaped from somewhere deep in me as I stopped and extended my hand.
“Ladies first,” I said, trying to be chivalrous, but it came out sounding like I was some douche on The Bachelor.
“Thanks.” She glanced back at me, and I could tell she wanted to say more. Her lips pursed together before she added, “Tell Clara happy Halloween for me. And to keep all the good candy for herself.”
I should ask her to join us. Beg her to come. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I bit them back instead. The battle between wanting her with us all the time and giving her the space she so clearly needed warred inside me.
“I’ll tell her,” I said as she started to walk away, and I stood there, gaping after her like some lovesick fool.
It was torture to realize how badly I wanted more than friendship with this woman. I wanted it all with her. But she’d made it pretty obvious that she still wasn’t healed from her marriage ending. She struggled with guilt and blame, and I was all too familiar with how destructive those feelings could be inside your own head. They weren’t something that I could fuck right out of her system, even though I’d considered trying.
Lifting her off my lap when I’d wanted to bury myself inside of her was a test in willpower I wasn’t sure I’d survive at the time. It’d almost killed me to move her away.
But I couldn’t sleep with her and then carry on like nothing had happened. Or pretend like I was fine with being friends with benefits or some shit like that. Because I wasn’t. And I never would be. Plus, Clara and I deserved more than someone who could come and go in and out of our lives like the wind. I’d been careless to let her into our world without knowing what she was ready for. I should have guessed that since she’d just gotten out of a relationship, she wouldn’t want to hop straight into another one.
But then again, I’d fallen without realizing it or meaning to. There’d been no hope for me when it came to this woman. My daughter was attached. I was attached. And now, I had to do my best to pretend like I was perfectly fine with just being friends with her when the reality was that I could see my whole damn future every time I looked in her eyes.
Shaking my head to clear the battle raging within, I started toward my dad’s office. Brooklyn was in the reception area, talking to our concierge about something. She turned her head, as if sensing me. And when her green eyes locked on to mine, I wanted to believe that she saw a future when she looked at me too. But I couldn’t risk being wrong about that. Not when my heart wasn’t the only one on the line.
Putting my head down, I broke our eye contact and walked to my dad’s office. I knocked on the already-open door, and his head shot up. He waved me in and motioned for me to shut the door behind me.
“Come here,” he said.
I walked to where he sat behind the desk where his father had sat before him.
When I stood behind him, he pointed at his computer screen, and I saw a paused oversize image of me at the saloon. Apparently, that damn video had circulated all over Sugar Mountain.
“I’ve watched this thing ten times already,” he said with a laugh before pressing play and making me watch it with him one more time. Then, he turned to give me a fist pound.
I’d never in my life given my dad a fist pound. I wasn’t even sure where he’d learned it.
It was surreal. And weird.
I fucking hated it.
I stepped back from where I stood behind him and leaned against the desk, facing him instead.
“I’ve already talked to the chief. He says you’ll be fine if this asshole wants to try to press charges. They won’t stick,” he informed me with a proud grin.
I wasn’t sure how or why not. The video clearly showed me shoving Eli and then hitting him and then standing over him in a threatening way. This thing could get really bad, really quick. I’d have no defense other than defending Brooklyn, and I wasn’t sure that was enough.
“I don’t think he will, but you never know,” I said, not sure I quite believed what I was saying. I didn’t know this guy any better than I knew a stranger on the street. “Thanks for making that call to the chief though,” I said, appreciative that my dad had taken the reins on that one. It had been tossed to the back of my mind since the second Brooklyn had left my house.
“See you tonight for candy?” He acted like he was reminding me, but I nodded with a grin.
“Yep. I’ll text you when we’re heading over.” I pushed off the desk and started to head out.
“Brooklyn coming?” he asked, and I stopped short.
“Why would she?”
He just shrugged and pointed at the computer screen. “Figured if you were punching her ex-husband, there had to be a reason for it.”
“There was. He was being a dick.”
“That’s the only reason?” His bushy silver eyebrows rose, and I knew he was pushing for more, but there wasn’t anything to tell him.
“It was reason enough.”
“If you say so, son.” He sat there, grinning like he held all the world’s secrets and couldn’t wait for me to figure them out.
It was annoying.
I left work a little early so I could get ready for the evening with Clara. She needed to eat actual food before we filled her belly with sugar. When I walked through the garage door and into the house, I smelled something I couldn’t put my finger on.
“Dad! You’re home early!” I heard Clara shout as she ran to greet me in the hall.
Her little hands wrapped around my legs, and I bent down to scoop her up.
She was getting so big.
“Glo-Glo the Pumpkin Queen made us bread!”
That was what I’d smelled.
“It smells delicious,” I said as I put my squirming eight-year-old on the ground.
“Thomas, I made fresh sourdough and some chicken noodle soup, but Clara refuses to eat it,” Mrs. Green informed me.
“But I’m not sick.” Clara whipped her head to look at me.
“Who said you were sick?” I asked through my confusion.
Clarabel was typically a pretty good eater and tried at least everything I put in front of her. That didn’t mean she liked it all, but she wasn’t the kind of kid who refused to eat something for no reason.
“That’s what I’m saying. I’m not sick. We don’t eat chicken noodle soup unless we’re sick. Right, Daddy? That’s sick-people food.” She was dead serious.
I laughed. “I mean, it’s not sick-people food. It’s comfort food,” I said before realizing that she most likely only ate it whenever she had a fever or in the days after Pukegate. I wasn’t a big soup guy. “But you’re right. You’ve probably only eaten it when you weren’t feeling great.”
“See, Glo-Glo,” Clara said with a soft shrug.
“I understand now.” Mrs. Green gave her a pat on the head. “That’s why I also prepped everything for grilled cheeses.”
Clara started clapping. “Yes! Grilled cheese with your brand-new bread! Yum!”
Mrs. Green looked at me, and I told her I was sorry.
She waved me off. “It’s no big deal. I’ll put the soup in a Tupperware. You can bring it over to your dad if you don’t think you’ll eat it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want it? You could take it home with you,” I offered, feeling like a wasteful ass.
“I already have some. You go see your dad tonight, right? Bring it there. One of you O’Grady men will eat it.” She smiled.
“You’re not wrong about that,” I agreed.
“Okay. I’m going to head out. Have fun tonight. Make sure you stop by my house so I can give you your special goody bag,” Mrs. Green said to Clara.
“I will. I promise!”
I walked with Mrs. Green toward the front door. “Thank you. I’m sorry again about the soup.”
“Thomas, it’s okay. Stop worrying so much. I’ll see you later,” she said before walking outside.
I waited at the door until she got into her house, turned on the light, and waved at me through her window.
My brothers both came barreling into the house about thirty minutes later. Clara and I had already eaten our dinner, and I was in the process of attempting to do her good-witch makeup, which I had absolutely zero experience with, thank you very much.
It was helpful that she didn’t want anything except for some sparkly blush and sticker jewels around her eyes. But my heart pinched when I added the black lipstick, seeing my daughter with any kind of makeup on her perfect little face.
It was too soon. I had a feeling it always would be.
“We’re upstairs!” I shouted as I heard the two of them making a ruckus downstairs, followed by pounding footsteps that didn’t sound human.
“Jasper!” Clara shouted as soon as the dog found us in her tiny bathroom. She wrapped both arms around his neck, and he stood there, letting her do it while she nuzzled and kissed him, ruining her lipstick in the process.
“I brought the dog,” Patrick said as he walked in, eyeballing the scene in front of him.
“I see that.” My tone came out annoyed, but it was due more to the fact that I needed to reapply the damn lipstick than anything else.
“Don’t be grumpy about it. You have Clarabel, and now, I have Jasper,” Patrick said as soon as Matthew entered, beer in hand.
“And what do I have? Nothing and no one.” He pouted as Clara stuck out her hip to pin him with a disapproving glare.
“You always have beer,” she announced.
I bit back a laugh as he ran to her and scooped her in his arms.
“You little devil,” he said, and she wiggled away, out of his grasp.
“I’m a witch, Uncle. Not a devil. I’ll put a spell on you,” she teased.
“Oh no, not a spell,” he said with a smile as he threw up his hands in surrender.
“It would be a good one though since I’m a good witch. A loooove spell,” she said, dragging out the word. “On a person though. Not for beer. I already put one on Daddy.”
I whipped my head around, my eyes wide with shock. “You did what?”
She grinned and giggled. “I put a love spell on you and Waffle Princess, Daddy.”
Patrick reared his head back at the same time Matthew hollered, “Who is Waffle Princess? Does she have a sister?”
“Brooklyn. She means Brooklyn,” I said with a grimace.
This was exactly what I had been worried about. I’d already fallen for the woman, and my daughter was putting imaginary love spells on us.
“Ooh,” Matthew crooned. “I hope your spell works.”
“Me too!” Clara hopped around, and my heart felt like it dropped to the pit of my stomach.
“You’re my favorite witch. Even if you have smeared lipstick.” Matthew grinned at my daughter before tapping her nose with his finger.
“Oh no.” She jumped up on the vanity and looked in the mirror as she frowned. “I think I got it on Jasper. I’m sorry, Uncle Patrick.”
“It’s okay. I’m sure he likes it,” Patrick said as he patted his dog’s big head.
“Out. Let me fix her lipstick, and we’ll be right down.” I pointed at the door and waited for them all to get out of the crowded space and give me room. “Take the dog.”
