Brett

 

I watched them through the window, hanging far enough back that they stood no chance of seeing me there. The room was dark at my back, my eyes focused on their outlines at the railings illuminated by the dull orange glow of the porch light. I watched Grace take his arm in hers, and it surprised me how little threat I felt at their close proximity, given that I’d just watched her ride his dick like a dirty slut all night long.

I didn’t feel any threat at all, in fact. Not tonight, and likely not ever again. Call me a dumbass optimist, but I was flying high, determined that if Heath was some fucked-up trial sent to test us, all he’d done was leave us stronger. Sure, the grinder may have dragged us through with gnarly teeth in those early days after his departure, but we’d healed stronger, better. Not least with the breathing space of a financial buffer in our account to ease the stress away.

Winning should have been everything. Beating that smug cocksucker in a way he couldn’t dispute should have brought a grin to my face like no other. But the victory wasn’t nearly as glorious as I’d imagined.

I found myself questioning if victory ever was really that glorious when it came at others’ expense. My dad had claimed so, ready with a firm handshake and a clap on the back whenever I’d done him proud, but invariably I was always out to topple someone else right afterwards to earn more of his praise. Always more, more, more.

My happiest moments in my lifetime were undeniably with Grace, knowing she was there at my worst as well as my best. Knowing I didn’t need to prove my worth to her every day of my life. Being able to breathe easily at night in her arms, knowing she was mine and I was hers.

But still, here we were. Heath in our midst, on some crazy mission to fuck me over, for reasons unknown.

He wouldn’t manage it.

My heart did a joyous flip as she pulled away from him and headed back inside where she belonged. I was waiting in our bedroom with the lamp on low and the bedsheets folded back to welcome her, soaking her in with warm eyes when she crossed the threshold and headed my way with a wince and a smile. She tossed her fluffy cardigan aside and kicked off her pumps, coming for her side of the bed without so much as a bathroom detour.

My arms were ready and waiting as she sought them out, her skin cold to the touch as she pressed to my side.

“That was really something,” she told me. “I’ll be aching for a week.”

“A good ache, I’m hoping.”

Her giggle was intoxicating. “A good ache, yeah. I just hope my dainty parts go back to some semblance of normality.”

I didn’t broach the subject of him at the railings, and it took her a minute, breathing steadily against my shoulder as she warmed herself with my body heat.

“He’s a lost soul under all that cash-rich swagger. I think he’s searching for something he isn’t even sure he’s searching for.”

“He’s a cunt,” I said, simply.

She slapped my arm playfully. “Brett Foster, don’t be so dismissive of other people’s shit. That could be us one day, searching for something.”

“Searching or not, he’s still a cunt,” I repeated. “I suspect he’ll always be a cunt. Ruining other people’s happiness with his cunty ways.”

She didn’t have a response for that. It took me a while before I continued, enjoying the sensation of her skin against mine.

“So, what’s the cunt searching for?”

“Love,” she said, just like that, and it made me laugh out loud.

“Sure he is.”

“He is,” she insisted. “Whatever happened to him, he’s so cynical he’s a black hole. He doesn’t think it exists.”

“Maybe it doesn’t for a selfish prick like him,” I said, my smile still bright as my laughter eased off.

“Or maybe he’s a selfish prick like him because he doesn’t believe it exists.”

“That’s a chicken and egg situation I don’t want a part of.”

She pressed her lips to my shoulder. “I hope we’re the ones who make him rethink.”

“By you taking his dick at the same time as mine? Unlikely, sweetheart.”

She stiffened at that, pulling away enough to flash me a look of disappointment.

“What?” I said. “It’s the truth.”

“There’s more to this than me taking two dicks at once.”

I shrugged. “I doubt he’s thinking all that deeply about it, Grace. He wanted to fuck us over, and we proved he was full of bullshit ego. That’s what he’s smarting about.”

It was when she rolled over and nestled down under the covers that I knew she was stewing on something bigger. She welcomed my arm as I wrapped it around her waist and held her tight.

“Talk to me,” I whispered. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“You’ll say I’m stupid.”

I kissed her neck and she shivered. “I’d never say you were stupid.”

I gave her breathing space, waiting in the quiet for her to formulate her words and wondering eventually if she was already lost to sleep. She wasn’t. Her fingers squeezed mine before she started speaking.

“I think he’s realising that what we have is real. I think he’s struggling with it.”

“Struggling to see us happy? Yeah, because he’s a cunt.”

I was ready for her to stiffen and she did. I was apologising before she squirmed away, sighing deep as I urged her to continue.

“We could show him,” she said. “I mean, he’ll see it, from being around us. Maybe it’ll open his mind, make him think it’s possible.”

“And that’s what you want, is it? To help the guy in his quest for love? He comes along wanting to destroy everything that matters to us, and you want to set him on his merry may with romance in mind?”

She shrugged in my arms. “I believe in helping people. Sometimes the people who need help the most aren’t the people we think deserve it.”

“He definitely doesn’t,” I insisted, but my resolve was weakening in the face of everything the asshole had brought on us.

“He saved our hotel,” she added, but I sighed.

“By trying to destroy us.”

“Doesn’t matter, he saved the hotel and brought us back to life. Brought you back to life.”

She was right on that front. I felt more of a man than I’d felt in months. It was me running through my veins, and the relief was welcome.

“So, what do you propose we do?” I asked her, and she shook her head.

“I don’t know. Show him, I guess.”

“Show him by inviting him for threesomes every night this week?”

The look she gave me over her shoulder was nothing short of wonder. “We’re going to do this every night?”

“If that’s what you want. It’s your fantasy.”

“And what about yours? What’s your fantasy?”

My smile was all real and all for her. “To see you happy, no matter where we find it.”

“I love you, Brett Foster,” she said, and landed a kiss on my lips. “I’d marry you all over again if I could.”

It was all the encouragement I needed to agree to the unbelievable.

“Alright,” I told her. “We’ll show the prick what love is. We’ll see how much he can stomach. Be warned though, there’s more to this than some asshole on a quest to break down marriages all over the country. He knows me. Knows us. Fuck knows how or why, but he does. This wasn’t just a random seaside visit for him.”

She held up her pinky finger and I linked it in a promise before I even knew what I was agreeing to.

“We’ll show him who we are, no matter what,” she said. “And I’ll get hold of Sarah and see where’s she’s at with her mystery solving. We’ll get to the bottom of his hate the Fosters attitude, if there really is one.”

“Deal,” I said. “But can I at least have a silent gloat when I kick his ass all over again in the rerun?”

She managed a laugh this time. “You really are your father’s son. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

But she was wrong.

For the first time in my life I felt like anything but.

And for the first time in my life, the prospect of change didn’t feel so bad.