Chapter Four
Bronwyn
The next few weeks passed in a flurry of silent renovations to the farm, mostly quiet meals, and awkward stares on the way to the bathroom in the morning. Bronwyn couldn’t stop noticing how Tyler looked nothing like Declan: where Declan was short, and muscular, Tyler was tall and lean. Declan was a blonde with serious blue eyes, and Tyler had black hair with mischievous cocoa eyes. When she was around him, she felt things she hadn’t felt for years, and it was driving her crazy with guilt.
How could she be attracted to her husband’s brother? And so soon after… No, this is ridiculous, she thought spitefully. You’re losing your mind. It’s grief. Grief is making you crazy, she chided herself as she watched Tyler work on the rebuilding the barn door. She made a promise to herself to distance herself even more from her brother-in-law, even if that meant being cold.
That night, when Tyler came in for dinner, Bronwyn didn’t say a word to him. She just set his plate on the table and went back to the stove, where she stirred a pot full of berries she was turning into preserves. She could feel him watching her as she poked at the strawberries, and it was unnerving her.
“Do you need something?” she asked, never turning around. Tyler chuckled, but didn’t say anything. It made her even more nervous.
“You could go watch TV if you’re done. In the other room. Where I’m not.”
Tyler walked up behind her and set his dishes next to sink.
“Did I do something to offend you? Because I feel like I haven’t said enough since I got here to offend you.”
Bronwyn put the spoon down and took a deep breath. She had no idea what to say; everything that popped into her mind seemed inappropriate, or ludicrous, or like it had the potential to cause irreparable damage to the only family she had. So in the end, she said the only thing she could think of… the truth. Or the closest version of the truth she was capable of expressing without sound like a nutcase.
“Tyler, I’ve been on my own for a long time. Even when Declan was here, he wasn’t here. So I suppose I’m just trying to adjust to having someone else in the house, in my space. I appreciate everything you’re doing, I really do. I just… I’m not used to you yet.”
Tyler nodded. He was so quiet, so understanding, and it was making Bronwyn feel like a traitor to her husband’s memory. Declan had barely been gone a month, and yet here she was, standing next to Tyler, noticing the way he smelled of cedar and soap. She wanted to push him away, but she knew she couldn’t keep doing that forever. Every day he spent in the house, every day he hovered in her periphery, was another day she was losing her resolve to fight.
Eventually, Tyler left the kitchen, and went into the living room, and Bronwyn felt like she could breathe again. But she was always aware that he was nearby, and once she was done jarring the fruit, there was nothing left to do but join him. When she walked out with a mug of tea, Tyler was curled up on the couch, flipped through channels as he stared at the TV over top of the fireplace. He was snuggling a pillow with a slight smile, as if he were the keeper of a great secret. Bronwyn stifled a scowl and sat on the furthest end of the couch, as far away from him as possible while still staying off the ground.
“Any preference on what you want to watch? I can’t remember the last time I sat down and just watched TV.”
Bronwyn shrugged, “Whatever you want. I don’t watch a lot of TV.”
That was a lie. All she did every night while Declan was away was watch TV: reality shows, medical soap operas, movies… she didn’t care what she was watching, so long as it was distracting. But she didn’t want to admit that, for fear it would make her look even more lame than she already felt. Yet again, she felt Tyler watching her out of the corner of her eye.
“What?” she asked, annoyed.
“Don’t bullshit me. I saw your eyes light up when I flipped by Scandal.”
Bronwyn couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Am I that transparent?”
“Only partially. I’ve also heard you watching it in your room every night. You don’t have to pretend for my sake. You’d be surprised what SEALs watch when they have a little down time. Baking shows were popular for a while.”
Bronwyn felt herself settling down a little bit, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She sipped her tea and stared at the TV, trying to focus on the political drama that was unfolding, but failing miserably. The chamomile tea was making her sleepy, and she felt her head starting to drop against her will. Bronwyn barely noticed as Tyler held his arm out, gesturing for her to set her head on his shoulder and rest her eyes. She wanted to fight, but there was something so comforting about having Tyler next to her, that before she knew what she was doing, she was dozing in the crook of his neck.
She felt like she was drifting inside of a dream, a dream in which her life had taken a very different path all those years ago. She wouldn’t have gotten pregnant at eighteen, and Declan wouldn’t have married her out of guilt. Bronwyn would have lost their baby the first time Declan was shipped off to the middle east, and he wouldn’t have stayed with her all of these years, simply because neither of them knew how to take back what they’d done. The feelings she felt for Tyler were real, but the guilt was real too. And they were killing her.
But the truth was, Tyler was like a dream too, and the way her body fit into his perfectly was enough to push away all of her doubts. Every time Tyler laughed at something on TV, or sighed, her head would gently rise and fall with his chest, and it gave her comfort. The sound of his deep, soft laugh filled his chest, and her heart.
Bronwyn didn’t know what to do next; her mind was awash in the confusion of emotions, and the power of them. All she wanted was for someone else to make a decision for her, for the universe to guide her and take her confusion away. Instead, she opened her eyes and realized that Tyler wasn’t looking at the TV anymore.
He was looking down at her.
His smile was sweet, and shy, but tinged with the slightest touch of panic, as if part of him were fighting the same feelings. Tyler reached up and pushed a stray curly hair away from her face, and tucked it gently behind her ear. He leaned down to kiss her, and his kiss was tender and loving, infused with a kind of passion Bronwyn had never really known. She felt like she should stop him, but she didn’t want to. For the first time in her life, she was making decisions based on her own desires, and she refused to fight it.
Bronwyn leaned over and into Tyler, letting her legs arms tangle with his, welcoming the feel of him, the warmth of his body as it pressed gently against hers. Something overwhelmed Bronwyn, a desire coursing through her body that she'd never felt in her life, and she rolled on to her knees, straddling Tyler’s strong waist and tightening her legs against his muscular thighs.
At first, Tyler’s face registered the same panic he’d been feeling before, but then he became lost in the sensation of having Bronwyn’s small body wrapped so tightly against his own. She slid her hands up and underneath Tyler’s t-shirt, relishing every inch of his sinewy abdomen and chest. Tyler lifted his arms over his head, giving Bronwyn the ability to pull off his shirt, giving her full access to his broad shoulders, and his defined collarbone.
She couldn't stop herself; she let her fingers trace their way across his warm, tanned skin. She kissed his shoulders, and took in the sharp manly smell of him, fire smoke and cedar and the lingering scent of a hard day’s work. He was intoxicating, and Bronwyn couldn’t get enough of him.
She let her fingers drift up and down Tyler’s strong arms, and thrilled at the feel of skin coming alive at her touch. As Bronwyn ran her hands up to his thick black hair, Tyler lifted her sweater up over her head. With her sweater now tossed off to the side, Tyler stopped and just began to stare, now wrapped around him, clad in only in a pale blue bra and her pajama pants. She began to shy away from his gaze, uncomfortable with how exposed he was making her feel.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
Tyler let his fingers trace all over Bronwyn’s curves, her stomach, her full, round breasts, and just stared on as if hypnotized by her.
“You're the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Wynnie. From the first time I saw you in the airport, I can’t explain it, but it’s like you’re a different person; it’s like I never knew you at all before.”
With a soft laugh, Bronwyn leaned in and kissed Tyler before she responded, “You didn’t, really.”
In all her life, Bronwyn had never had anyone look at her the way Tyler was looking at her right now, and it was like a drug. She couldn’t get enough of him. She kissed him for real this time, tasting every bit of him, letter her tongue explore the inner reaches of his mouth, her hands running through his thick, soft hair. Pressed against each other in a frenetic embrace, her heart pounded like a drum as Tyler gently bit her lip and squeezed her ample breasts. Bronwyn's breath caught in her throat, her sex on fire at the feel of Tyler's tumescent manhood against her thighs.
Bronwyn's vision began to cloud from need, her mind hazy from a collection of sensations unlike anything she’d ever know. Tyler's large hands held her around the waist and lifted her from the couch and straight into the air, her legs holding tight around his rippled torso. As he carried her up the stairs and toward the bedroom, she kissed along his neck and shoulders as if she were desperate for the taste of his soft skin.
His strong arms held her tight, his hands gripping her lovely ass, holding as firmly as he could without bruising her. With one quick movement, Tyler flung open the doors to the bedroom, and for a brief moment, Bronwyn was distracted from her desire.
The bedroom, her bedroom, was the room she had shared with Declan. Over the last six years, they’d maybe spent as many weeks together in the same bed, but it still felt like their room, their bed. It was enough to give her pause, and Tyler saw it in her eyes. With a gentle kiss on her forehead, he backed out of the room and walked them over to his room on the other side of the hall. She whispered in his ear, “I’m so sorry. I just… this is all so strange. My mind hasn’t really caught up with my body yet.”
“We can take as much time as you need, Bronwyn. I don’t want to rush you, or do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” Tyler said as he pulled back, his expression serious.
Bronwyn wrapped her arms around Tyler's neck and kissed him passionately, her answer in her kiss. She let her fingertips trace the length of his spine, and reveled in the feel of him shivering inside her thighs. Tyler carried her over to the bed and set her gently down on the downy comforter. Her whole body became alight at the rush of sensations: Tyler's hands on her stomach, the feel of the cool comforter against her warm skin, the smell of strawberries wafting up from the kitchen. She hardly noticed as Tyler expertly slid away her flannel pajama bottoms, kissing and nibbling the soft flesh of her thighs as inched them off and pushed them to the floor.
Now, Bronwyn was aware of everything. Tyler reached up and unclasped her bra with nervous fingers, and then let his hand travel back around to cup the fullness of her breasts. His lips kissed their way down her stomach, skipper her underwear and moving to her thighs, letting his lips brush against the sensitive skin of her legs as his other hand traced the lines of her calf. Bronwyn felt like she was going mad with need, a prisoner of her desire. She wanted more of Tyler, all of him. Her hands grabbed out to touch any part of him she could reach, her sex practically aching for him.
Tyler anticipated her need, and didn't make her wait. In one graceful move, he slipped off her panties, and slid up next to her, kissing her fully, tracing her lips with the tip of his tongue. While she was distracted by his lips on hers, he let one hand travel down the length of her body, and to her pussy, where he slipped first one, then two fingers inside her warmth. Bronwyn's body rose to meet every drive of his long, elegant fingers, dancing inside her as his thumb pressed against her clit. Bronwyn felt a wave of orgasm rushing over her, never having been truly touched like this before, with such passion, with such eager hunger.
But Tyler wasn't ready to let Bronwyn escape that easily. With a cunning smile, and a delicate kiss, he removed his hand from between her legs, tasting her wetness on the tips of his fingers as she watched on, captivated. Then, he began a journey of discovery, tasting and kissing every inch of her body that could reach, from her shoulders to her arms and hands, back up to her chest, all over each of her breasts, only ceasing to lavish care on her perky nipples, then down her stomach, across her abdomen, and coming to rest in the downy curls between her thighs. With tantalizing grazes of his tongue, he began tasting every inch of her, inside, outside, licking up every drop of her.
Bronwyn's hips rose with ache, completely mesmerized by the feel of his lips on her body, the magnificent anguish of his tongue inside of her; she began screaming, begging for things she'd never asked for in her life,
“Tyler, please. I want you to fuck me. Please...”
His face rose to meet hers from the end of the bed, a flash of concern glittering in his chocolate brown eyes. He slid his hands leisurely up her body, squeezing and kissing the same path he'd taken down, her skin now covered in droplets of perspiration caused by her rising and falling pleasure. When he met her eyes, face to face, he tenderly kissed the tip of her nose, whispering,
“Are you sure about this, Bronwyn? I don’t want to do anything that you’ll regret tomorrow.”
Something about his gentle way, his willingness to stop if that's what she really wanted, it was all it took to drive her over the edge. Her movements were fluid, waves on the sand, and in one felt swoop, her legs looped around his waist. Tyler was on his back, and Bronwyn was on top of him.
With her hands holding tight to his shoulders, and their lips locked in an adoring kiss, Bronwyn took the length of Tyler's rigid cock inside of her. Every throb of him, every pulse of his quivering manhood in her pussy, brought on another gust of rapture.
As Bronwyn rode atop Tyler, every inhibition, all of her nervousness, fell away. Tyler looked up at her with eyes full of love, hands that couldn't stop touching her, and Bronwyn all at once felt like the goddess Tyler believed her to be. With her hands in her hair, she slid up and off him, feeling her own orgasm rushing on her like spring rain clouds. He put his hands on her waist and whispered,
“Baby... I'm coming.”
And with one grand thrust, they both shattered with delightful ecstasy. The sound of Tyler's deep voice calling out her name made Bronwyn's orgasm even much more epic, paired with the sensation of his essence filling her, and it only took seconds for her whole body to be wracked with quivers. She fell down on Tyler, the sweat of their sex soaking enveloping them both.
As Bronwyn gasped for air, her head resting on Tyler's powerful chest, he wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her as tight as he was able, he whispered in her ear,
“Can I keep you?”