Not Broken

Brooklyn

 

 

 

FOUR DAYS AFTER FINDING Delaney in her soon-to-be-ex’s grip, I led her out to the stable.

“Are we going riding?” she asked.

“Depends what kind of ride you’re thinking of.” I swaggered a little, but to be honest I was nervous inside.

More nervous than during a big game, because everything with Delaney was life-changing, especially now that Eric was truly out of the picture.

The maggot was going to be banged up behind bars for a very long time, pending court. But the evidence was stacked against him—abduction, assault and battery, attempted rape. Divorce papers were being expedited due to the circumstances surrounding Grimes’s arrest and ongoing abuse.

I would’ve outright killed Eric if he’d succeeded in raping her, damn the consequences.

Delaney had spent a total of one night in the hospital because the sterile antiseptic surrounds weren’t what she needed to heal. She needed fresh air. Sunshine. New hope. New beginnings.

She’d moved in with me. Completely. Hopefully forever. And every day beamed brighter with her at my side. I’d expected a fuckton of fallout after Eric’s insane plan to abduct her, but she’d recovered quickly, proving once again how tough she was.

Maybe it was because everything that’d weighed her down for so long was finally laid to rest. Because she could finally look forward to a future without constantly looking over her back. The bruises healing, fading like the pain of her past.

She was done hating. Done running.

She was done mourning, but that didn’t mean she’d ever forget little Katie. So when the old darkness tried to swallow her, I was there to listen, to talk her out of it. I was there to hold her. Whatever she needed, whenever she needed me.

We’d planted a camellia with bright pink winter-blooming blossoms for Katelynne next to the house, and afterward I’d just sat there while she quietly wept. I didn’t think those would be the last tears she cried for her lost baby girl, but at least now she had someplace to go to remember.

We passed the camellia, and Delaney reached out to stroke the glossy leaves and the soft petals as she always did, her smile softening.

Inside the stable, the scents of horse and hay and leather assaulted us. I stopped Delaney just inside the door, covertly wiping my palms on my jean-covered thighs.

“Okay. If we’re not riding what are we doing out here?” she asked, her long black braid hanging over the shoulder of her leather jacket.

“Patience. It’s a virtue.” I tapped the tip of her nose, and her gold-colored eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Now there you go with the Yoda speak like Coach D.”

I swiped my palms again, spinning away to the tack room. When I returned I hid a couple things behind my back.

She gave me a mischievous look. “Are you planning on tying me up?”

Cue my cock lurching in my pants. “Well, that could be arranged. Later. But no, not that.”

“Then show me, you big tease.”

I presented her with the gifts. A pair of hand-tooled cowboy boots in fawn-colored leather, her perfect size, and a lady’s Stetson, which I was probably gonna convince her to wear when I fucked her.

“They’re beautiful, Brooks.” She took the boots in her hands, running her fingers over the designs.

“Thought I better break you in as a real cowgirl.”

“Oh you did, did you?” She leaned up against me, drawing my mouth to hers for a slow hot tongue-involved kiss.

I pulled back after a last lick of her lush lips. “Better stop that now or we won’t get to the rest.” I rapped a knuckle against the boots. “Check inside.”

Her hand dove inside, and she pulled out a thick envelope. “A love letter?”

“Uhhh. Words aren’t really my thing, ya know.” I nervously cleared my throat. “Put the boots down and open it.”

She pouted. “But it’s not a love letter?”

“Woman.” I nearly growled.

She slowly ripped open the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “What? This . . . these say . . .” Her astonished gaze flew to mine. “Are you serious?”

“More than I’ve ever been.” I bit down on my bottom lip to contain my emotions as her eyes became glossy with tears.

“But these are the registration papers for Cinnamon. In my name?”

“Yeah.”

A tear clinging to her eyelashes dropped as she looked through the rest of the bundle. “And . . . the house? The land?”

I laughed over the stone lodged in my throat. “Well, that’s not just yours. Added you to the deed. Gotta keep something for myself, right?”

“Brooklyn Holt!” She swung her arms around my neck, crumpling the papers against my back. “You big fool.”

“Fool in love.” Angling her neck in my hand, I lowered my mouth, covering hers and swirling softly around her tongue.

She mewled, writhing against me. Drawing her leg up to my hip, she grinded against me, adding a hot tease to the slow burn I had in mind.

With a groan, I jerked away. Her face was flushed. My heart stampeding. Her lips moist and mine tingling.

“You forgot the hat.” I passed it to her, resisting the urge to wipe my palms off one more time.

She took it, starting to lift it to her head.

“Might wanna check inside first.”

The look she shot me was shy and sweet and wondering. “What else did you do?”

I shrugged, but a mighty tension settled in the pit of my stomach.

That time her hand shook when she pulled out the small leather box.

“Brooklyn?” Her voice trembled as she peered at me, and I got down on one knee.

I took the box from her and opened it. The diamond inside was nothing like the rock I’d given Brianna because Delaney wasn’t like that. Instead this engagement ring was handmade, one of a kind, as precious as Delaney was to me.

“I s’pose this isn’t the most romantic place to propose to the woman who changed my entire life.”

“It’s perfect, Brooks.” She clasped her hands near her heart.

“You gonna let me finish? Because I’m okay if you just say yes.” A smile spread across my lips.

“Finish. Finish, please.”

“This is where I first got to know you. Really see you. That day we had the picnic.” The deep throbbing of my voice matched the deep throbbing of my heart she’d opened up—bigger and wider than ever before. “You’re so damn brave. Beautiful. A true warrior.” I blinked, pushing back tears. “I want to be your husband, Delaney, if you’ll have me.”

“I thought you said you weren’t good with words,” she whispered, the light tease affected by her lowered voice.

I reached for her hand. “Is that a yes?”

She cupped the side of my face. “Of course it is. I love you. Yes!”

Soaring happiness rocked me to my soul.

“Put it on me. Put it on me!” She waggled her fingers.

I kissed the palm of her hand before settling the sparkling ring home where it belonged, like her with me.

Easing up, I brought her against me, the sexy impact of her body against mine, her lips on mine, hot enough to set my skin on fire.

I cupped her ass, dragging her legs up around my waist. I backed her to the wall, rutting hard. Rutting fast. Ready to mount her as the blistering kisses blinded me to everything but the need to thrust inside her.

When I reached between us to cup my hand against her mound, Delaney managed to slip away.

“Get back here,” I ordered.

“Not in front of the horses.” She backed toward the stable doors. “How many times do I have to remind you?”

“But I still gotta break you in.”

“You can try.” Her hips switched as she led me—by my dick—out of the barn.

I hurried to catch up. “Put the Stetson on so I can really show you how to ride me.”

When she slanted the hat across her forehead I was pretty sure I was the one in for a ride.

Couldn’t. Fucking. Wait.

****

Dressed in the dark gray suit complete with vest and a handkerchief in the breast pocket—all tailored by one Frankie Burelli, who’d only put the moves on me a few times while he fitted me—I couldn’t concentrate on the tie-tying thing.

That was pretty much impossible with my woman standing next to me in our bedroom, wearing lacy black sexy things that barely covered Delaney’s delectable body. Yeah, the bra cupped her tits, but with hardly enough fabric to stretch over nipples I wanted in my mouth pronto. She wore a bra so rarely, seeing her in one and little else had me ready to bust my nut all over her breasts. Of course the thong didn’t help either. A string between the cheeks of her ass, a triangle over the slit of her pussy. Stockings. Garter belt. Perfume. Lipstick.

Fuck. Me. Running.

Her dress lay on the bed. Maybe I could burn it before she got a chance to put it on. Keep her in bed. Fuck her raw. Over and over.

Nice. Big boner in my swank suit. Just in time for Rafe and Peyton’s early December wedding a few days after I’d proposed to Delaney. So far we’d kept our secret. She only wore the ring around the house. But as soon as her divorce came in I was so jumping on the marriage bandwagon.

She moved up to me, glanced down at my groin, smirked.

Minx.

“Need help?” She batted her lashes at me.

I narrowed my eyes on her.

“Mmm.” Her breasts brushed against my chest, and the heels made her tall enough her pussy was at hard-cock-level. “You look handsome.” Her fingers dangled on the tie’s ends.

She started looping the silk. I ducked my head, trying to catch her lips in mine. She pecked at my mouth, nibbling, sucking, biting little kisses that shook me down to my balls. As soon as she cinched the tie, straightened it flat against my chest, I dragged her fully to me, fitting my mouth to hers.

The heavy rough kiss spiked greed in my veins, lust in my loins. My hands dug into her ass, roamed up her back, played with the hook of her bra.

Delaney pressed me away, tits heaving, nipples proud and peaked. “I’m going to have to redo my lipstick,” she said unsteadily.

Which immediately made me think about those dark red lips pursed around my aching shaft.

I grunted. Adjusted. Thought about putting on some damn compression shorts for good measure.

And when she bent over to gather the dress, I thought about two pairs of compression shorts.

“You are seriously asking for a fucking.”

“Am I?” She glanced at me, slipping the dark blue dress over her hips.

Her dress. Holy-shit-her-dress. V-neck. Tight top. Silky material. Floaty skirt. High slit that showed thigh every time she moved.

“Need help zipping up?” I asked.

“Depends. You thinking of zipping my dress or getting me out of it?”

I approached with a hungry prowl, a wicked smile.

She laughed and leaped back. “We don’t have time!”

“Quickie?” I kept advancing.

“You’re never quick.”

“I can make an exception. Unless you want me showing up as best man with my dick like this?” I pointed at the obscene bulge in the fabric.

“Oh. You poor man.” She hipped her way toward me and set her palm on me. She stroked me. “It must be difficult having such a big hard cock.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I grunted through gritted teeth.

“I think I know”—her fingers stole to the head of my dick—“all of it.”

I saw stars. I humped into her hand. I wrapped my fist around her wrist and bucked into the tight hold.

“Fuck. Delaney.”

“Uh uhn. You’re gonna have to save that for later.” She eased off just when I was about to come in ribbons all over the inside of my pants.

I sucked in deep driving breaths, beating back the hunger lancing through me. Then zipped up the back of her dress, kissing her neck.

Red lipstick. Hair up in some fancy arrangement. The legs, the heels. She dripped pure sex sex sex.

My dick drooled and whimpered.

****

I stood next to Rafe as he pretty much bounced on the soles of his polished shoes beside me at the altar.

“Nervous much?”

“Fucking excited, man.” He hit me with one of his famous gleaming white grins.

“Good thing Callum and Liv are ring bearer and flower girl, or you’d be paying into the swear jar right now.”

“Don’t I know it?” He nodded his head at his mom who sat in the front row of the loose arrangement. “Ma would make me pay up too, so don’t tell her.”

Gracie Macintyre looked as excited as her son, in her pretty dress and silver-blonde hair and pink cheeks.

My gaze gravitated toward Delaney who perched on a chair on the platform set up on the white sand outside Rafe and Peyton’s house on Isle of Palms beach. December beach wedding? Totally doable in South Carolina. They were just lucky the day was bright, awash with sun, and warm enough our dicks didn’t shrivel. Not like mine was ever going down. Not with Delaney’s even warmer gaze locked on me. Guessed she liked the suit. Or the fact she knew she was still keeping my cock hard. Beside her, the other Cougars turned out in their finery.

Akoni, Marquis, Bunyan, Calder, Cross . . . hell, even Luke Buckley had gotten an invite.

Akoni already had a big hankie pressed to his eyes, his wife’s hand gripped in his, and their brood in the surrounding seats.

Coach D turned toward Rafe and me one last time. “Pre-wedding pep talk? Do I need to?”

Coach wore a suit like mine, and he stood at the head of the altar. He’d gotten ordained when Peyton asked him to officiate. Word on the street was he’d teared up, Akoni-style, at the request, not that we’d ever fucking breathe a word about that. Otherwise he’d have us tearing up and down the field during practice.

“No, sir, Coach.” Rafe spoke up in a deep voice. “I got this.”

Coach rubbed the top of his dark bald head then folded his hands in front of him. “Good. And no honeymoon until we win the Super Bowl.”

“I don’t think that’s in my contract—” Rafe started smartassing, but then the “Wedding March” began.

“Oh, shit,” he breathed out. “It’s time.”

I clapped a hand on his shoulder. “This is the day you’ve been waiting for.”

His gaze remained trained on the short aisle from the porch to the sand below. Callum and Liv came out of the house first, holding hands. Liv—older than her nephew by about six years—whispered into Callum’s ear. The russet-haired boy grinned at his dad, dimples all over.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw Rafe press his fist to his lips, his green eyes sheened with dampness. Christ Almighty, I was about to choke up, too.

When his kid sister and his son pulled up at the altar, he fist-tapped Liv then crouched down as Callum beckoned him closer.

“Daddy! Mommy looks like that princess.”

“I bet she does. I can’t wait to see her.” He kissed the top of the boy’s head, his voice cracking.

When Peyton and Philomena—Coach D’s daughter, the maid of honor who was also giving Peyton away—emerged together, Rafe crackled with energy.

“Jesus Christ.” He craned forward, as if he could draw his fiancée-almost-wife to him faster. “She’s . . . she’s fucking stunning.”

I briefly muffled Liv and Callum before they could ruin the whole moment shouting swear jar.

Peyton and Phil looked beautiful—total opposites. Peyton with the fiery red hair and creamy skin, Phil with the short dark-cropped ’do and ebony skin. Peyton didn’t wear a veil. Her dress was simple, elegant, clingy, the perfect complement to her coloring. Christ, maybe I’d been spending too much time with Frankie the Tailor.

They approached slowly through the crowd of friends and family, and with each step Rafe breathed more shallowly.

Gracie grasped Peyton’s hand for a second, giving a silent blessing, and then she was at the altar.

I hoped Rafe didn’t pass out at her feet, because that would totally ruin the whole moment. He stared at Peyton, and her eyes clung to his.

“Who gives this woman away?” Coach D directed the question to Phil.

“Oh, Dad. Don’t be so old school. Peyton gave herself away.” She passed her BFF’s hand over to Rafe. “To a daaamn fine specimen too.”

“Hands off, sister. He’s mine.” Peyton’s light jab made those around her laugh, all except Rafe, whose look remained one of pure awe.

And as Peyton stepped up to him, her breath caught and held.

We faced Coach D. “Dearly beloved . . . it’s about damn time.”

As everyone from Peyton to Rafe to the gathered witnesses cracked up, Coach’s lips spread in a wide grin. “If you ask me, this was six years in the making, but I couldn’t be happier to see these two—Peyton Fox and Rafe Macintyre—finally get it together.”

Another wave of laughter filtered through the crowd.

“We’re going to keep the ceremony short and simple, because I know more about football plays than presiding over nuptials.” He bent his head then looked up with somber eyes. “But mostly because I know how much Peyton and Rafe belong together.”

Rafe’s gaze never left Peyton’s face, and her lips parted, her fingers squeezing his.

True to his word, after the opening crowd pleaser, Coach talked them through their vows, which were only slightly altered from the traditional I dos. Like when Peyton said, “And I promise to get you into classic rock, because seriously? Justin Bieber?”

He guffawed as did everyone else.

And when Rafe pressed both her hands to his chest. And vowed, “I promise to teach you how to make edible pancakes if it’s the last thing I do.”

She shook her head, her face glowing.

“Amen to that!” Callum piped up.

“I’ll be yours forever.”

“My heart belongs to you.”

“In sickness and in health.”

“Until death do us part.”

Those final vows said, immense love shone through each low soft word. Turning my head, I found and focused on Delaney. Emotions poured between us, connecting us, as she drew a fingertip beneath her damp eyes, a pure smile on her lips.

“The rings please?” Coach D hunkered down toward Callum, ruffling his hair.

“I lost the rings, Daddy!” Callum’s mouth dropped open as he patted the pockets of his tot-sized suit.

“Um, well, we can just use—”

“Kidding!” Callum beamed, pulling the two bands from his suit jacket.

“Very funny.” Rafe mock-scowled at his boy.

Seconds later the rings were exchanged, both their hands even more wobbly than when I’d asked Delaney to marry me, and singeing heat rolled off the newlyweds.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife! At last!” Laughter circled through those gathered. “You may kiss the bride.”

Rafe didn’t take that duty lightly. No sirree. I thought about putting my hands over Callum’s eyes as Rafe dipped Peyton into a devouring kiss, but what the hell? They probably went at it like that all the time at home.

Instead I found Delaney again, and I wanted to do the same damn thing to her.

After Rafe broke the lip-lock it was time for full-on congrats. It was like a signing event without the Sharpies. Hugs, knuckle bumps, cheek kisses, hand shakes . . .

“You done good, bro.” I held onto Rafe for a moment. “Happy for you.”

Sliding back, he nodded, his throat bobbing. “Probably wouldn’t have made it without you.”

“If you make me turn into Akoni 2.0 right now, I’ll whup your ass.”

He chuckled, turning to the next well-wisher.

“Keep him out of trouble, right?” I hugged Peyton.

“I thought that was your job.” She drew back, smiling.

“Not anymore, sister. You’re on your own.”

Leaving the staging, I made a beeline to Delaney. She stood, smoking hot and sexy, in the middle of her Cougar pack.

“Don’t you look foxy and fine today.” Raquel swept her eyes up and down Delaney’s figure.

I couldn’t agree more. If we did anymore eye-fucking I’d lose it inside my pants. That time for real.

I captured Delaney to me, dropping my lips to graze them along her neck.

“Hoowee!” Sammy catcalled. “Getting hot up in here.”

I released Delaney, saying how-do to her friends, who did some eye-fucking of their own. But they knew I was off limits, and they didn’t cross the line.

I was taken. So very taken.

“So, hombre, when are you gonna make an honest woman out of Delaney?” Lourdes purred.

Her posse didn’t even know about the engagement. We wanted to announce it at just the right time.

Delaney tucked her fingers in mine as I stumbled over my own tongue.

“Maybe I don’t want to be an honest woman but a naughty one?” She licked her lips with a wink.

Then I almost bit my tongue in half. Because yes and please. The naughty nasty part. Soon. Please.

“And that’s what I’m talking about.” Raquel’s husky laughter gurgled from her throat.

“Bouquet time, y’all! Line up, single suckers,” Phil called out. “Men too—I’m an equal opportunity player, didn’t ya know?”

Charmaine—Marquis’s wife—started to get in line until he grabbed her arm.

“What?” she asked. “I like flowers.”

The smooth dude with the sick dreads just rolled his eyes as Charm wagged her fingers and swished off to join the line-up.

“Go on.” I nudged Delaney.

“Not.” She snorted.

“Go on.” I propelled her forward.

Bunyan dragged Calder with him, looking ready to knock any contender to the ground to get to the bride’s bouquet.

Rafe shook his head at the group from his stance beside Peyton as she turned around, flowers in hand.

“One. Two. Three!” Phil sounded off, and Peyton let fly.

Whaddya know? Dozens of women jumped up, jostled one another, maybe even went mean girl to get their hands on the bouquet. Thank God Bunyan didn’t go all mosh pit on everyone, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in it to win it. The bright flowers flipped end over end over end then landed . . . smack dab in Calder’s hands. Like a reflex and the bouquet was a football magnetized to his palms.

“Dammit, man.” Bunyan folded his arms over his chest, almost breaking through the seams of his suit jacket. “You were supposed to be my wingman.”

Calder gazed at the flowers like they were an alien lifeform he held away from his body. “Don’t worry. Marriage ain’t happening for me.”

Things that make me go hmmmm.

After that, Delaney and I made the rounds. We stayed together, and more often than not I kept my hand as close to her ass as decently possible. Dinner was served as evening drew in—the December night growing cooler but the huge outdoor heaters blasting out warmth.

The salty scent of the ocean. Fresh seafood cooked perfectly. Champagne by the magnum. Nice bash.

I made sure I didn’t drink too much. Speeches were yet to come, and I didn’t want to fuck up Rafe’s wedding or screw up in front of Delaney.

Coach D rose from his chair first, dinging his glass with a fork. “Peyton didn’t ask me to give a speech. She gave me the best honor of all when she asked me to officiate. I said yes . . . because it was either that or she swore she’d fire me.”

Peyton laughed with everyone else, her fingers threaded through Rafe’s.

“But in all seriousness, it’s been almost a year since Billy Fox, her beloved father and Carolina Crush’s owner, passed away, and I know how hard it’s been on her and young Callum. Peyton relocated, she took over the team, she gave us holy hell. And she proves herself as an owner, a coach in her own right, as a mother every day, and now, a wife to the man she loves.” He bent his head in her direction. “I know your dad would be as bursting with pride for you as I am. TO PEYTON AND RAFE!”

Holy shit. I squeezed Delaney’s hand, remembering Billy Fox’s tough-love-gritty-go-get-’em spirit. Hard to believe it was just a year ago, the team tanking out, our owner suddenly deceased, wondering if Crush would be sold.

And yeah, Peyton had shown true grit, she hadn’t steered us wrong. We still had a shot at the playoffs, and she and Rafe were finally together.

Tears glimmering, Peyton kissed Coach D’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Hell, I wanted to kiss his cheek.

“Why you always gotta show me up, Dad?” Phil stood from her spot at Peyton’s side. “I got a lot of dirt I could spill on the lovely Peyton here . . . but I guess there are just too many kids present.” She sent a wink to her bestie. “Once upon a time I thought she’d have a single relationship status forever. So, being the good friend I am, I set her up on a bunch of dating sites.”

“Oh, really?” Rafe drawled, his eyebrows high.

“Mm hmm. But Peyton wouldn’t have anything to do with Tinder or Bumble. And I finally figured out why.” Phil tipped her glass at the married couple. “My girl—”

“My girl,” Rafe coughed.

“Was already in love. Had been for years. And even though Rafe and Peyton weren’t together—as soon as I saw them in the same room for the first time—it was clear. No matter how many years passed, they were meant for one another.” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Well, crap. I think I’m gonna cry.”

Peyton gave a watery chuckle and grasped her hand.

“To passion. To victory. To a love that won’t quit!” Phil took a quick drink. “There. I kept it short and simple, just like Peyton’s wedding dress.”

More laughter, and now I was really getting nervy about my speech.

“To Rafe and Peyton!”

“I’m so getting you back when it’s your turn,” Peyton hissed to Phil, but her grin was huge.

Delaney patted my hand and kissed my cheek, whispering, “You’ll be great. Just remember not to swear.”

When I stood up, all eyes were drawn to me. “Fantastic. Even my own woman doesn’t have any confidence in my speech writing abilities.” I winked at Delaney.