One Hell of a Risk

Delaney

 

 

 

BROOKS IN COWBOY BOOTS, in his element off the field, in those jeans that fit oh-so-snug on his ass . . . consider me done.

But big Brooklyn Holt showing me his broken heart? I was falling for the man and falling hard. He was rugged, ripped, so, so sexy . . . and he’d been completely jaded. Just like me.

And when he said maybe his wife leaving him turned out to be a good thing because of meeting me? I couldn’t stop the gasp that parted my lips.

I still felt like I needed to keep some distance from him, which was hard to do with my hand clasped between his, practically snuggled against him. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave the warmth in his dark brown eyes or the comforting press of his hands.

“Do you really mean that?” I peered at him.

He drew me up and against his side, curling an arm over my shoulders. “Yeah, Delaney, I do.”

His hand dangled over my arm, and I reached across to link our fingers back together. “You were a romantic, though, right?”

“Figured out I still am.” His lips skimmed my cheek, and he turned my face to his. “Especially when I’m with you like this.”

My heart skipped a beat. “But you don’t really know me.”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“You first. Why did Brianna leave you?”

I wasn’t trying to sucker punch Brooklyn, but before I even considered opening up to him I had to know he hadn’t hurt her, done her wrong, messed around on her.

He curled me closer, and I went with it, the feeling of his big solid muscles too good to pass up. “In all honesty there’s not that much to tell. She got stuck on the fame game. Wanted the glitz and glamor shit more than me. Brianna definitely wasn’t into picnics on the beach or horseback rides.” He blew out a long breath. “Guess the final straw was I wanted to start a family, but she wasn’t the least bit interested in getting fat and ugly. Her words.”

I stiffened at the other words. Start a family.

We had more in common than he knew.

“And I used to think—right after the divorce—she broke me. But a person can’t break you.”

My body felt suddenly cold.

“Yes they can,” I whispered through tight lips. I scurried away from him. “A person can break you,” I said more strongly.

“Shit, Delaney.” Brooks crouched on his knees in front of me. “What is it?”

My eyes shot from the horses to the water to the trail back to his place. And there was no other way out of here.

“Delaney?” He placed his hand on the blanket between us, staying away from me.

Giving me space.

I struggled to take deep breaths—the fight or flight reaction grabbed hold of me so fast. The sudden tearing open of the old wound bringing the past rushing down on me.

It isn’t Brooklyn’s fault.

I closed my eyes and inhaled.

He’s never done anything to threaten me.

I unclenched my fists.

Brooks has always respected me for who I am.

I exhaled and opened my eyes.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

“I wanted a family too. That’s all I wanted.” I rocked with the old pain flaring inside. “I married my high school sweetheart.” I raised bleak eyes. “Like you.”

“I didn’t know you were divorced.” His brow crumpled, and he dropped back.

“I’m not.”

“Can you tell me? ’Cause I’m not stupid, and I know something must’ve fucked you up pretty bad even though you try so hard not to let it show.”

I watched him warily, wondering how much of my guard I could safely let down.

“I promise not to touch you if that’s what you’re worried about. Or we could ride back to my house right now, and I’ll drive you straight home. I swear it, Delaney.”

“It’s . . . it’s okay.” I nodded briskly. “I’m not divorced because . . . I ran away from him.” A bright flash of pain pierced my stomach, but I kept my gaze on Brooklyn’s steady one. “He abused me.”

“Jesus Christ.” Brooks balled his hands, his jaw clenched, his expression went wild. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

Strangely, those violent words—when I’d lived through so much violence myself—only made me feel . . . protected. Something I hadn’t been for a long damn time. Certainly not by a man.

Realizing what he’d said, Brooks slowly relaxed his hands. “I’m sorry. Sorry. But, Christ, Delaney.”

“It’s okay. I’d like to kill him too.” Staring out over the water, I wondered if I could speak the words, the truth of my beaten-up past. “We got married young, like you. The only problem was Eric was going nowhere. His shooting star as captain of a small-town Iowa football team burned up bright and fast. He was still a catch, even when he had to get a job as a car salesman. Such a cliché.” I choked on a laugh. “He made sure to keep me in line though, and the more discouraged he became with his lot in life the more he took it out on me. Kept me on a strict budget, controlled the money, controlled me twenty-four-seven. He monitored my comings and goings like a prison guard, but all those nights he was out late he was with other girls. I knew it. I could smell them on him. But I was virtually under lock and key.”

I wondered if my voice sounded as cold as my heart felt remembering those horrific times.

“I can’t believe I was ever so goddamn weak.” My lips curled up.

Brooks’s voice washed over me, hard and determined. “I could never see you as weak. You did what you had to do to survive a shit situation. Jesus, Delaney.”

Banked rage lit his eyes, but he stayed where he was. Far enough away to put me at some sort of ease.

“Like I said, I just wanted a family. I could forgive the put-downs, the lock-ins, the few slaps when I talked out of turn. I didn’t think enough of myself, maybe. But once I got pregnant, oh Lord, the only thing I focused on was my baby growing inside. Staying strong for her.” I cupped my empty womb, swallowing down a torrent of tears. “I always thought I’d have a girl first. A whole passel after that.”

“I didn’t know you had a baby.”

“She didn’t survive,” I whispered.

“Fuck.” Brooks dragged his palms over his face. Then he held his hand out to me. “Will you come to me? Just let me hold you?”

I frowned. Wanting. Needing. Worried.

“Seriously. Jester will kick me in the nuts if I try anything on with you.” His muted smile didn’t reach his eyes. “He’s like my granddaddy. Likes ladies more than he likes me.”

An unlikely bit of laughter bubbled from my throat.

At Brooklyn’s side, I let him hold me.

His hand fell to my braid. His voice thundered deeply in his chest when he said, “Can you tell me the rest, babe?”

At his touch, tears tracked down my face. Tears I’d never let fall, never let seen. Salty as the air as they hit the corners of my lips.

My body wracked with sobs I wouldn’t let loose.

“Okay. It’s okay now. Promise you I’m not running away. I’m not gonna hurt you, Delaney.” Brooklyn’s soothing voice, hoarse with emotion, made the tears fall faster.

I hugged him around the middle, wetting his shirt. I tried to stem the tears, blink them back, but the whole dam broke as soon as he’d embraced me.

He stroked up and down my back. His Adams apple bobbed against me. His hand lifted and I wondered if he was wiping tears away, too.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be,” his voice growled out.

“I made a mess of your shirt.”

“Yeah you did.” And his chest lifted with a reverberation of short-lived laughter.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Not necessary, babe.”

“I don’t know if I can tell the rest.” Another teardrop escaped.

“No pressure.”

“Is Jester going to get annoyed I took your full attention?”

“I think he’s preoccupied, putting the moves on Cinnamon.”

I glanced at the pair of horses, and Jester was definitely sniffing around, while I was still sniffling.

“Eric didn’t like coming in second place. He didn’t like me getting fat. He didn’t like me standing up for myself.” I pushed through the pain of memories, sticking to the facts. “At seventeen weeks he gave me a good kicking in the stomach. I reported it . . . but he was the town legend from his high school days. He had the police in his pocket.”

The struggle for breath returned, and I grabbed Brooklyn’s hand. “I miscarried after that. A girl. Just like I thought.”

Brooks folded me in his arms. “You lost your baby because of him?”

“He beat me. He beat her out of me.”

The howling pain swallowed me whole, but all that was left was dry sobs. Dry sobs against Brooklyn’s chests as he murmured to me. He hugged me, stroked my back, wiped the tears from my cheeks.

He turned my face to his beneath the gentlest hands. He kissed my lips—just a light brush.

I pulled back, straightening my shoulders. “I changed after that. I wanted to be stronger. I couldn’t be afraid anymore.”

“You’re still scared though.”

“Not scared.” My chin jutted. “I’m careful. Eric’s been after me before. He doesn’t like to lose his possessions.” Scanning the man beside me, I knew he was nothing like my estranged husband. “It’s been three years. I changed my appearance. My last name. My entire life.” I looked at Brooks. “I won’t run anymore.”

“That’s why with the Taser.”

“You saw that. In my bag?”

“Yeah. And you could’ve kept it on you if it makes you feel safer.” He scooted a bit more away from me. “Sorry I asked you to leave it behind.”

“I do feel safe with you, Brooklyn.” I opened my palm to his.

Lifted my face to the sun.

Felt amazed I’d let someone in. A man. A big, beautiful, full-hearted man.

“The really funny thing is he was the star at our high school. He was blond and blue-eyed, the high school quarterback.” My eyes narrowed. “I took his sport from him. And I own it now.”

“Yeah, you do.” He towed me to him and fitted me perfectly in the sturdy lee of his shoulder. “What about your family? Didn’t you have any help?”

“There’s just my mom. And she thought the sun shined out of Eric’s asshole. Not her jock daughter. The only thing I did that made her proud was marrying the quarterback, not becoming one myself.”

“Jesus. I can’t imagine you surviving all that with no support, Delaney.” He kissed the top of my head, murmuring, “I hope you get to meet my folks sometime.”

“And your granddaddy?”

“Oh hell yeah. He’d love you on sight. Especially since you made Cinnamon tow the line.”

I reared back. “You said she was sweet from the get-go.”

Brooks rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I lied a little. For a good cause.”

“A good cause?” I drew up to my knees.

“You two have the same temperament?”

“Which is?”

“A little bit feisty.”

“I’ll show you feisty, mister.” Quick as a flash of light, I snatched the cowboy hat from him.

Bolting to my feet, I set the Stetson on my head. Tilting the hat at a jaunty angle, I leaped away from Brooks as he jumped up.

“C’mere, saucy.”

I beckoned him forward with a shake of my hips. “Come and get it, big boy.”

I dashed across the sand and into the water. The cold was a shock to my system, but when I glanced back the look in Brooklyn’s eyes seared me to my core.

He sprinted forward, and I raced along the shoreline, kicking up water. I was fast, but the man was much faster than me, and this sort of chasing was fun, nothing like what I’d been subjected to in the past.

Laughing, I turned as he gunned closer. I reached into the water, splashing him with handfuls as he approached.

Shaking droplets from his face, he grinned at me. “It’s like that, is it?”

I scooped another handful toward him. “Yup, cowboy.”

He leaned over and barreled water through the air with both hands. The cold spray hit me in the chest, instantly soaking my shirt. I didn’t give up though. I got in another half dozen or so hits while he drenched me, both of us laughing the entire time.

Then Brooks went completely still. He stared at me, at my clinging top, my tightened nipples. No bra. Whoops.

My breath deepened, lifting my breasts even more. And I walked closer to him, fully aware of my effect on him.

“I guess you got your Bo Derek moment after all.” I almost didn’t recognize my voice, low and smoky and filled with the lust building inside me.

He licked his lips and swallowed. His hands opened and closed. His gaze roved from my breasts to my mouth.

He reached out faster than I expected, towing me into his arms. “You’re the one who mentioned Bo Derek, babe, not me.”

Lifting me clean off my feet, he spun me in a slow circle, our lips so close together. The hard bulge of his cock at exactly the right spot to make me moan. His irises darkened nearly to black, and his heat seeped into me through our wet clothes.

“Goddamn but you are beautiful.” His voice gravelly, Brooks lightly tugged on my braid.

I moaned again, arching into him, waiting . . . waiting for his kiss.

With a low curse, he carried me to the sand and slid me down his body. A thrill shot through me, and I pulled away. I wanted him to see me—all of me, with my clothes sticking to my body, revealing more than concealing what I’d trained so hard to achieve.

I wanted to be naked in front of him, to feel him filling me until I couldn’t take any more.

Hot wet heat curled between my legs, and Brooks growled. That was the sound I wanted to hear when he pulsed inside me.

I drew my hands up from my hips to my waist and over my breasts. I smoothed my palms over my damp face.

With a swish of my hips, I came within touching distance again. “Will you take me home now?”

His shirt clung to his muscled chest, wisps of dark hair glinting wetly in the V of flannel.

“’Course.” He looked at me hungrily before slamming his eyes shut. “Straight back to your apartment.” Diamond drops of water gleamed on his beard.

“I meant your place.”