Have Husband, Need Honeymoon (15 page)

“Yes, Dad, calm down. Everyone’s fine.”

“Where’s the fire?”

“They’ve contained it. It turned out somebody lit a match in the candle store and things got out of hand.”

Wiley gave her a once-over, then hugged her to him, and Alison laughed. “Dad, you worry too much.”

Wiley reared back and ran a hand through his hair. “Listen here, you’re my baby and I’ll worry about you till you’re old and gray.” He finally noticed Brady and hesitated. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Excuse me?” Brady jammed one hand into his pocket.

Wiley laid a hand on Brady’s shoulder. “Listen, son, I had a pilot lined up to run this advertisement for me tomorrow, but he had a family emergency. I was wondering if you’d do me a favor and fly the ad for me.”

Brady’s stomach turned over. “Um, Mr. Hartwell, I—”

“I’ll pay you good money, son. The local news is all set to cover it. All you have to do is fly low, waving this sign over the dealership—”

“I can’t, Mr. Hartwell. I’m really sorry, but you’ll have to find someone else.”

Wiley argued with him, promising to double the salary, but Brady made up several excuses. When Wiley left, Brady’s stomach clenched at the disappointment in Alison’s eyes.

“Why won’t you help Dad?” Alison asked.

Brady tensed. What could he say? He opened his mouth to offer her the same lame excuses he had her father, but he could see in her eyes that she hadn’t believed him.

“Are you holding a grudge because of what he did to us four years ago?”

Brady shook his head. He couldn’t let her believe he was so callous he’d harbor a grudge against her father. What kind of man would that make him?

“Brady, please talk to me.” She laid a palm against his cheek. “A few minutes ago, I practically threw myself at you.” Her voice broke. “The least you could do is be honest with me.”

He felt like a heel.

He had hurt her once by cutting her out of his life without an explanation, and she was right. He owed her the truth. Once she knew how he’d let his friend down, she wouldn’t want him anymore. Then she’d accept that their marriage was over, and move on.

He took her hand in his, and said in a low voice, “Okay, let’s go to the lake. Then I’ll tell you everything.”

* * *

Alison had never seen Brady look so grave. She parked along the lake at the special spot where they used to come during high school. Nothing much had changed – oak and pine trees still shaded the lake, the scents of honeysuckle and wildflowers filled the air. The sun hung low, its orange light glinting off Brady’s face as he settled on the ground. He picked up a rock and threw it, watched it sail across the lake and splash, then reached for another. Frogs croaked and crickets chirped around them. She could almost feel the tension in his body, the anger and confusion and pain radiating from him.

Alison studied the water and let the silence envelop them, hoping the peacefulness of the lake would seep into him, hoping the calm serenity would enable her to accept what he had to say.

He was going to tell her he didn’t love her anymore and to stop throwing herself at him. She had to brace herself.

“I … I’m sorry I couldn’t help your father.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”

He glanced at her, then down at the rock, rolling it between his fingers. “Couldn’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It has to do with the accident.” His breathing sounded harsh in the quiet. “I told you my best friend died in the crash.”

“He was the guy from
Missouri
you wrote me about?” He nodded and Alison took a steadying breath, willing him to continue. It took him several seconds before he spoke again.

“Josh and I met my first year in flight school. He was a good guy, just wanted to make a better life for himself.”

“He sounds a lot like you.”

Brady nodded, his gaze fixed on the lake. But Alison sensed his mind was miles away.

“We were sent on a lot of training maneuvers, simulated combat battles.”

“That was when you first stopped writing.”

“Yeah.” He tossed another rock in the water, and waited until it pinged and sank before he continued. “On the last training exercise, we were both getting cocky. We were the best in our flight unit. Josh had quick instincts, I had steady hands. We were flying fighter jets in a simulated combat situation, Josh decided to do some fancy stunts to show off.” Brady closed his eyes, his voice husky. “But something went wrong. Josh got caught in the backwash from another plane, accelerated too quickly, lost control, and almost hit the side of the mountain. His belly clipped it, he lost a wing, then engine power. He thought he could land the jet but he couldn’t make it. I told him to eject.”

Alison twisted her hands in her lap, aching for Brady. She could see that he was tormented by the memories, had relived them a thousand times.

“But his eject button malfunctioned. He was yelling over the radio. I tried to talk him through it, but he panicked. The plane … it went down with Josh in it.”

“Oh, Brady.” She pulled his hand into hers. It felt limp, his fingers cold, as if the life had drained from him. And in a way, she realized, it had.

“I managed to pull up in time, barely avoided hitting a military building. By the time I landed and made it to his plane, it exploded.”

“That’s how you were hurt? You were trying to save him?”

Brady didn’t respond. He’d lapsed into a world of his own. “I had to get him out of there. I had to save him.”

Alison squeezed Brady’s hand, imagining the horror of what he was describing.

“I saw Josh, the jet in flames, the smoke billowing everywhere.” He pulled away from her, cradled his face in his hands, obviously trying to block the images. “I could smell the gas, the smoke, the burning jet. Then there was Josh’s face, covered in blood. The fire was eating at him, licking up his clothes, singeing his hair.” Brady’s voice broke, but he continued, choking and crying now. “I tried to get to him, to pull him out, but the fire was too quick, and the plane kept burning.”

Alison couldn’t stand it anymore. She pulled him into her arms and cradled him against her, stroking his hair and rubbing his back while he wept.

“It was my fault, don’t you see? If Josh and I hadn’t tried to best each other, he might have tried to eject sooner.”

“Oh, Brady…”

“I should have died, too, not just him. He was a good pilot…”

“Shh, I’m sure he was. Just like you are.” His voice broke again, and Alison rocked Brady back and forth, tears trickling down her cheeks as she tried to soothe him. “It wasn’t your fault, Brady, you can’t blame yourself.”

“But he shouldn’t have died, and I received this damn hero’s welcome here in Sugar Hill when I’m not a hero, Ali. I’m not.”

Alison’s heart broke for him. She cupped his face in her hands and forced him to look at her.

“Brady, your friend’s death wasn’t your fault. Accidents happen. You said yourself the eject button malfunctioned. You couldn’t have known that would happen.”

* * *

Brady stared into Alison’s
eyes, wanting to believe her, craving the redemption and forgiveness he heard in her voice. Craving the solace he felt in her arms. In her touch.

She must have sensed his vulnerability, because she lowered her head and brushed her lips across his, so loving, so tender, so sweet.

“I know you’re hurting, Brady, and I want to help you.” She traced a finger along his cheek, her voice a soft whisper. “I love you, Brady. I always have.”

He closed his eyes, her tremulous words rolling over him, causing a bittersweet ache to swell in his chest. He suddenly couldn’t stop himself. He was hurting, and Alison was the guiding light to relieve that ache. He wanted to love her, to give her pleasure. Wanted it so badly he thought he’d explode.

He threaded his fingers into her hair, dragged her face to his and kissed her. Her lips tasted like the finest of wines, sweet and delicious. He sipped at her mouth, ran his tongue across it, then delved inside to take as much as she offered. She returned his hunger with a moan of acquiescence, fueling his passion even more when she savagely clawed at his shirt. Buttons popped and flew across the grass. He tossed the shirt to the ground and groaned when she lowered her head and dropped kisses along his jaw, down his neck, then took his hard nipple in her mouth and teased it with her tongue. It had been four years, four damn miserable years without her.

He pulled at her blouse, found the bottom and tugged it over her head, then paused to drink in the sight of her. She wore a lacy, pale pink bra, her firm breasts spilling over the edges. His body hardened to a painful ache, pulsing against her thigh, and he lowered his head and nibbled at her flesh. She moaned and arched her back, thrusting herself into him, and he unfastened her bra, flung it to the ground and began to suckle her – first one breast, then the other, greedily taking pleasure as she writhed against him. Her legs intertwined with his, her moans music to his ears.

His only thought was to give her pleasure. To love her and show her all the ways he’d wanted her the past four years.

He cupped her hips, dragged her skirt down inch by inch and trailed kisses along her stomach, down her thighs. Then he pushed her skirt to her ankles, taking her panties with it.

“Brady—”

“Shh, honey, let me love you.” He nibbled at her knees, at her inner thighs, at the secrets she had held for him all these years. Her body was so voluptuous, her long slender legs stretched out beneath him, her womanhood bared for his eyes to feast upon. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of doing this the past four years?”

She raked her fingers through his hair. “I’ve dreamed of it, too.”

“I’ve wanted you every night…” he flicked a tongue against her heat “…naked and moaning and…” he thrust his tongue inside, suckled her “…with your legs open for me, your voice calling my name as I make you cry with ecstasy.”

She clawed at his back. “Oh, Brady, I love you…”

Her voice broke off as he buried his face in her heat and tormented her until he tasted heaven. She pulled at his arms, tried to move him up to join their bodies, but he savored her honeyed taste, refusing her. This time was for her, only her, so he held her still and took pleasure in the sensation of the shivers racking her body. Finally, her moans grew quieter, her voice a whimper.

“Brady, please, I want you to hold me.”

He slowly rose above her, looked into her eyes, saw the heat and passion and love, and his heart ached even more. If only he had more to give her.

Birds twittered in the background; a duck splashed. Somewhere a car backfired, the sound reminding him of the explosion.

She reached for his belt buckle. He caught her hand, brought it to his fingertips, kissed each finger, then shook his head.

“But I want to love you, Brady. Why won’t you let me?”

Her heart was in her eyes, and he silently cursed himself for hurting her again. He stood, grabbed his shirt, yanked it on and turned to the lake, trying to calm his raging emotions.

* * *

Alison had never felt such sweet, hot ecstasy in her life.

Yet she’d also never felt so alone as when Brady loved her, then pushed her away.

Her hands trembling, she gathered her clothes, slipped them back on, then grabbed his arm, trying to force him to face her. “I asked you why you’re pushing me away, Brady, and I want an answer.”

He hated the quiver in her voice, hated even more that he still had demons to face, that he couldn’t be what she wanted. “Because nothing’s changed.”

Anger balled in Alison’s stomach. “That’s not true, Brady. We established two things here today.”

He swung around and gland at her. “What? That we both wanted sex.”

Hurt stabbed through her. “That we both wanted
each other
.” She firmed her chin. “If you’d wanted sex, you could have had that with anyone the past four years. But you admitted you haven’t been with anyone, Brady.”

His gaze cut back to the lake, his own jaw set.

“And now I understand why you’re pushing me away. You feel guilty over your friend’s death.”

“I am guilty,” he said harshly. “I have the scars inside and outside to prove it.” He gestured toward his jeans. “If we’d finished what we’d started, you’d see how ugly I am now, Alison. I’m not the high school football star you fell in love with, or the pilot.”

“Is that why you think I fell in love with you? Because you were a football star?”

He averted his gaze, stared at his boots, crushed the dirt below them. “Isn’t it, Alison?”

“No. I can’t believe you think I’m that shallow.” She folded her arms around her waist, furious. “I fell in love with you because you’re you.”

“But I’m not that same guy, Alison.”

“Maybe not. But maybe you are. Maybe you’re just a grown-up version.”

“Growing up changes us, Ali.”

“You had an accident, Brady, and so did your friend. It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault. You have to forgive yourself, go back up and fly again.”

Brady shook his head, his voice gruff. “That’s just it. Don’t you get it?” He swung around and held out his hands. They were shaking and his voice was filled with anguish. “I can’t fly anymore, Ali. It’s not that I didn’t want to help your father, but I can’t.”

Alison reached out to touch him but he pulled away. “Why not, Brady? Because of your injuries? Did the doctors order you not to?”

“No,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Because I’m too damn afraid.”

Chapter 15

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B
rady felt Alison’s hand on his shoulder and tensed. He’d finally admitted the truth about himself, so why wasn’t she turning away?

“Have you talked to someone about it, Brady?”

A sardonic chuckle escaped him. “What? You mean like a shrink?”

“It wouldn’t hurt. Seth, Mimi’s husband, is a psychiatrist and he’s really nice—”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Well, you told me. That’s a start.” She moved behind him and massaged his shoulders, kneading the knot at the base of his neck. “You should talk about how you feel, though, with Vivi or your mom or me. It’s not good to hold your emotions inside you.”