Chapter Twenty
BRETT WENT ALL out on his heavy bag Thursday morning while Sophie got ready for work. She had an early meeting, which was just as well, because he was seeing his father at ten, and his body was all knotted up, like his pre-Sophie days. As he took out his anxiety on the heavy bag, he told himself Sophie was worth every freaking painful minute of what was yet to come. And he knew it would be painful, which was probably why his father had suggested his office when Brett called to ask for a meeting. Not a bad idea with two hotheads. Then again, when had an office environment ever stopped Brett from a damn thing?
He heard the familiar clicking of Sophie’s heels approaching and wiped the sweat from his brow. She came into the gym carrying a bath towel and a jug of ice water, looking smart and sexy in a pair of killer heels, a tight gray skirt, a white blouse, and a blue blazer. Her hair looked in need of his fingers. Oh wait, that was just his itchy fingers talking. A sweet smile played at her lips. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup, but she usually wore lipstick to work. This morning her lips were bare, which meant he could kiss her to his heart’s content.
That could take all day.
All year.
A lifetime.
“Hey, babe?” She set the jug of ice water on the floor and began dabbing the sweat from his cheeks with the towel.
“Is this a hint that I should shower right this second?”
She laughed softly and shook her head, easing the knots inside him as she continued dabbing at the back of his neck and shoulders. Her eyes flicked up to his as she slowly, sensually, wiped down his chest.
“You know what this does to me,” he warned as she moved around him and wiped his back and shoulders, then returned to the front and crouched as she wiped down his legs. His cock twitched eagerly. “Soph, if you have to be at work early, this isn’t a good idea.”
She stood and began taking off his fingerless gloves. She held them up between her fingers and thumb, her baby blues locked on him, and dropped the gloves to the floor. Then she wound her arms around his neck, and a dreamy sigh slipped out. He knew it was a purposeful sigh by the heat flaming in her eyes.
“I know you’re anxious about seeing your dad today, and I also know that our kisses help calm you down.”
She brushed her lips lightly over his, then ran her tongue along the seam. Lust blazed through his core, and he captured her mouth in a hungry, possessive kiss. She was light and lightning, sweet and spicy. She was goddamn mind-blowing.
“You’ve got me all fired up, baby.”
“I counted on that, too.”
She kissed a trail along his jaw, and then her lips met his again in a kiss so needful and hungry he couldn’t resist fisting his hands in her hair and tugging hard enough to earn an erotic gasp. Christ, he was so hard he ached to be inside her.
He tore his mouth away and said, “Baby, getting me all hot and bothered isn’t going to help me relax.”
“I know…” She splayed her hands on his chest and kissed his shoulder and then the center of his chest. “I thought a little morning workout fantasy might go a long way.”
She licked his nipple, then sucked hard.
“Fuck,” he ground out.
Her skillful hands caressed and groped. Her nails dug into his flesh as she tasted his ribs and abs, the muscles by his hips. When she kissed the skin just above his shorts and bit into it, his hips bucked.
“Sophie, if you do that, you’re going to be late,” he said through gritted teeth. “Please tell me that ice water isn’t for dousing me.”
“It was in case you were too upset to let me touch you.”
Damn, his girl thought of everything. Didn’t she know that time would never come?
“Never,” he growled.
Her brows lifted, and then her eyes narrowed, darkening like the sea. She yanked down his shorts, freeing his erection. “And look at this.” Her fingers circled his shaft. “I’ve just arrived at my morning appointment.”
Holy. Fuck.
She crouched lower, licking his balls and dragging her tongue along his shaft repeatedly, until it was nice and wet. Then she returned her attention to his balls, loving him with her mouth as she stroked his cock. His eyes closed, legs tensed, his fingers still buried in her hair as she licked and sucked, making one sinful, appreciative sound after another. When she lavished the head of his cock with that hot mouth of hers, he opened his eyes and couldn’t hold back.
“Suck me, baby. Take me hard and deep.”
What a sight she was, her full lips spread around his cock, her tongue slicking out along the head, one hand fondling his balls, the other following her mouth up and down in a mind-numbing rhythm.
“Sophie—” He pulled her up by her arms and captured her mouth in a plundering kiss. “Need you, baby.”
She shook her head as they kissed. “No.”
“No?” He drew back, flabbergasted. “Why?”
She moved lower, kissing as she went. “Because I want you to have motivation to be strong today.”
“Fuck,” he panted out. “Baby, you make me weak.”
She giggled. “You’re so wrong. I’ve never known a man stronger than you. That’s why you’re going to come in my mouth now.” She lifted her gaze to his as she took his hard length in her hand. “And come inside me later.”
She swallowed him deep, obliterating his ability to think or speak, or do anything other than enjoy the pleasures she was giving him. She quickened her pace, knowing all the tricks to throw him over the edge. He grunted out her name, his hips bucking with every pulse of his release. She lovingly accepted everything he had to give. When his body went slack, she rose again, claiming his mouth with the same fierceness she’d taken his cock. Adrenaline pushed through inside him. He tugged her skirt up to her hips, and holy mother of God, she was pantiless. He sank to his knees, feasting on her sweetness. She was so aroused, so hot, when he sucked her clit and thrust his fingers inside her, she spiraled out of control, shattering against him. He loved her breathless, then he made her come again. Only then did he rise and possess her lovely mouth, pouring his soul and a well full of promises into her.
“Baby, you’re incredible. You’re—”
“Wait,” she panted out. “I need you to know something first. I know you’re talking to your dad for us, and I love you so much for that. But even if you decide not to, I’ll still love you more tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.”
He pressed a series of kisses to her swollen lips, so overwhelmed with emotions, he grasped for the right way to convey them. “Sophie, love isn’t a big enough word…”
“I know. Kiss me. I feel it in your kisses.”
If she felt it in his kisses, he wanted to put them everywhere. He pressed his lips to the middle of her chin, the hollow of her neck, the tender spot beside her ear. He could kiss her all day long, every inch of her flesh, and still he wouldn’t have kissed her enough. Anxious to love her again, he lowered his head and pressed his lips over the special part of her that had changed his world—her heart.
Gazing into her eyes, he said, “You are my forever kiss, Sophie,” and lowered his lips to hers.
AT EXACTLY TEN o’clock, Brett followed his father into his posh law office, steeling himself against the chill settling into his bones and the anger simmering beneath his skin. There were no hugs, no warm glances, only awkward silence. Brett rooted his feet in the expensive carpet as his father pushed the door until it was strategically ajar. Gerard Bad was a leading criminal attorney and one of the most manipulative, cunning men Brett had ever known, but Brett had never been intimidated by him. It would be difficult to feel intimidated by a man he’d once seen as weak.
His father strode across the room in his Armani suit and motioned toward a leather chair in front of his desk, before sitting in the taller, more commanding chair behind the desk.
“I’ll stand, thanks.” Brett crossed his arms, needing the barrier between them. He’d purposely dressed in jeans and an old favorite blazer, wanting his father to see he didn’t take after him at all. It was the rebellious punk in him coming out. Brett owned that punk-ass attitude. Lord knew he needed it today. The cold glint in his father’s deep-set eyes told him the clothes he’d chosen didn’t matter. There was no hiding from the truth.
His father nodded, holding Brett’s gaze. Just one of the damn mannerisms Brett had picked up from him. Like the cold stare, the anger, and the ability to live behind a wall of ice. Those traits had haunted Brett for too long. At least he no longer existed behind those fucking barricades. Thanks to Sophie.
The thought brought his mind back to the reasons he’d come. If only he knew where to start. It seemed silly to try to hash out what happened all those years ago. He wasn’t a child needing his father’s approval. Fuck that. He was a highly respected businessman, had more money than any five men needed, and he had the woman of his dreams waiting for him at the end of the day.
He didn’t need to be here.
He eyed the door.
“I assume there’s a reason you’ve come?” His father’s deep voice was as commanding as his presence.
He met his father’s gaze, expecting to see the same cold stare as always, but his gaze was thoughtful, concerned even. Fine lines feathered out from the corners of his eyes. His forehead was etched with worry lines, his hair more silver than black. His shoulders were thinner than Brett remembered. The longer he studied his father’s features, the clearer reality became. He no longer knew who his father was, or what was going on inside his head. For the second time in as many weeks, Brett thought of his sister looking down on him from the heavens above, seeing the two of them acting like strangers, and the thought of disappointing her slayed him.
Brett uncrossed his arms and said, “I came to apologize. I was an arrogant kid, and I’d like to say I didn’t know what I was doing when I got into all that trouble. But the truth is, I did.” He paced, the weight of his father’s stare trailing him like a shadow. “I blamed you for Lorelei’s death.” He crossed his arms again and met his father’s gaze.
His father didn’t flinch. “Go on.”
“I shouldn’t have blamed you, and I’m sorry that I made things harder for you and Mom.” He’d expected to feel anger or relief after getting it out in the open, but he didn’t. He felt overwhelmingly sad. Sad that their lives had turned out this way. Sad that his father didn’t seem surprised by what he said. He sank down to the leather chair, leaned his elbows on his knees, and stared at the carpet, trying to wrap his head around the grief.
“I’m sorry you felt the need to apologize.” His father’s voice was a little unsteady.
Brett lifted his gaze and saw regret staring back at him, pulling him deeper into the darkness.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save her,” his father said as he rose to his feet and paced—another similarity Brett couldn’t deny. “I’m sorry I was too wrapped up in building this fucking company to realize she was so sick. We thought she had the flu. Kids get sick. It’s part of life. And you kids were like little petri dishes. Someone always had a cold or a stomach bug.”
Brett opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was lost in disbelief.
His father leaned against the edge of his desk. “After the fundraiser last winter, when you guys had all those pictures of her up…” His eyes dampened and his voice escalated. “I went home and tried to get lost in work, but it was like she was right there all over again. Crying, pleading with me with her pretty little eyes. ‘Daddy, please make me better.’ My baby girl lay dying, and I couldn’t do a damn thing but hold her hand and lie to her.”
Brett felt gutted. He’d had no idea…
When he’d been allowed into Lorelei’s hospital room for the last time, he’d crawled into the bed beside her and told her a story about Lorelei Bad, the greatest actress who ever lived. Midway through his story, she had spoken in labored, exhausted breaths, and said, And she had the best bodyguard in the world. She’d nodded off to sleep right after that, and Brett had lain there until his parents had dragged him home for the night.
His father strode across the room again and pushed the door closed, turning the eyes of a tortured man on Brett. “Do you know what it’s like to tell your little girl that everything’s going to be okay when you know damn well it’s not? Nothing you could have said or done could have made mine or your mother’s lives harder than they were back then. You were an arrogant kid, but damn it, Brett, you kids fed off my emotions. You and your brothers hid out in that goddamn fort in the woods at a time when you should have been taken care of. But what did I know about grief? I had no clue. All I knew was that I needed to stay away from everyone for fear of dragging you all down with me.”
“But you did drag us down.” The words flew from Brett’s lips with such venom, they propelled him to his feet.
“No shit,” his father spat. “I get it. I’m not denying it. I made your lives harder, and I will regret that until the day I die. I’m sorry. I wish I could go back and learn how to deal with our loss and start all over. But I was too mired in my own self-pity to know where to turn. I did the only thing I knew how to do. I worked myself into the ground in an effort to never forget a second of the pain. I’d have drilled it into my bones if I could have. I’d have given my own life for her.”
“But not for us!” Brett clamped his mouth shut, angry at himself for letting the old hurt derail him. “Sorry,” he snapped. “I didn’t mean that. I didn’t come here to accuse you.”
“Bullshit. You meant it, as well you should have. I fucked up, Brett. I fucked up everyone’s lives, and I have no excuse for it. Hell, I’m only now starting to grasp the depth of my failures.” He swallowed hard and said less vehemently, “When I went to that fundraiser and saw the pictures of my baby girl, of your sister. Of Lorelei…”
Brett’s throat thickened. He hadn’t heard his father say his sister’s name since she died.
“When I saw her smiling down at the world, it tore me up.” Tears streamed down his cheeks. He turned away and leaned on the windowsill, his head falling between his shoulders. “I tried to get lost in work, and when that didn’t cut it, I tried drinking. But I wasn’t weak enough to disappear into a bottle.” He scoffed. “Too weak to save my family, too strong to become a drunken bum. Senseless.”
He turned around, his face a mask of devastation. “That was the night I called your mother.”
“What?” Brett’s protective urges surged forward. His fingers curled into fists. He and his brothers had protected their mother from their father’s wrath ever since his father moved out.
“I understand why you look like you want to kill me,” his father said. “But please, hear me out. I didn’t call her to cause trouble. I called her because finally, after all these years, I hit rock bottom. She always knew I would, and she left that door open. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I never stopped loving her. She came over the next day, and I won’t give you all the details, but she convinced me to see a therapist.”
What the hell? Brett wanted to grab hold of the beacon of hope his father’s confession held, but he’d been burned too many times. “All these years you would lose your shit if we brought Lorelei up, and now you’re suddenly ready to deal with it? Why? What’s in it for you?”
His father held his steady gaze, the loaded question hanging between them like a line drawn in the sand. “What’s in this for you, Brett? Why are you here after all these years?”
“Because I can’t move forward carrying all this anger and guilt around, and I don’t want to end up”—like you—“alone and angry, making people walk on eggshells.” Brett squared his shoulders, thinking about Sophie and her family and how wonderful it was to be part of that. “And because even though I know we’ll never be a close family again, that doesn’t mean we can’t be something.”
His father’s eyes misted over again. “Common ground. That’s where I’m coming from, too.”
Emotions bowled Brett over, momentarily stunning him into silence.
“I’m still seeing the therapist,” his father said. “It’s been a process, building up to do what you had the courage to do today. To apologize. I didn’t think any of you would accept an apology from me. Too little too late. I’ve been putting off reaching out and trying.” His mouth twitched, as if struggling over what might come next. “Another weakness of mine, avoiding failure.”
Failure? Brett hadn’t thought his father even knew the meaning of the word. What else did he have wrong?
“But you’re here, Brett,” his father said. “And you’re more of a man than I could ever be. I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry I wasn’t the father you and your brothers deserved. Or the husband your mother deserved, and I’m sorry we lost Lorelei.” His jaw tightened, just as Brett’s already was. “But I hope your being here means it’s not too late for us to salvage some kind of relationship.”
Brett nodded, for fear that if he tried to speak, the tears he’d been holding back for decades might break free. His father took a tentative step closer, and the boy who’d lost his sister, his father, and the family unit he’d once counted on bullied his way through, closing the distance between them and stepping into his father’s open arms.