Wild: Whispering Cove, Book 1 (11 page)

The blood in her face drained down to her toes. Unreasonable fear iced her veins. She nearly fell, trying to jerk out of his embrace.

“I need to go home.” Lips suddenly dry, she licked them. “Check on Grandpa.” The boat ride to Whispering Cove had nearly killed her. No way would she get back on the ocean.

Confusion wrinkled his forehead. “But Byron said everything was fine.”

“I need to go home,” she repeated firmly this time.

Like a wave rolling over his features, his concern vanished and his face hardened. “No.” The strength in that single word forced Andrea’s gaze to his. “You need to tell me what’s wrong.”

Andrea wrung her hands. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Crap
. She didn’t mean to say that out loud. The truth was Brody wouldn’t understand her fear of the ocean.

Whoever said there was a thin line between love and hate had been right, because the very thing she had loved so much in her younger years, she now hated with a passion.

“Dammit, Andie.” He grabbed her by the biceps. “This has got to stop. You can’t keep running away.”

“Let go of me.” She shook with newfound ire. “A-and, I can do anything I damn well please.”

But he didn’t let her go. If anything his grip tightened. “No, Andie. Not this time.”

A flicker of anger burned in the depths of his eyes.

She met it with one of her own.

Without a word he led her through town toward his truck. Andrea didn’t fight him because she didn’t want to make a scene. There were too many people around.

Brody nearly poured her into the passenger seat of his truck before he moved around the vehicle and got behind the wheel.

Neither of them spoke as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the road. But when she expected him to make a left toward her grandfather’s home, he turned right.

“Brody? Where are you taking me?”

“The house I built for you and me.” White-knuckling the steering wheel, he glared at her before returning his sight to the road. “I’ve waited ten years—ten long, lonely fuckin’ years.” Resentment rang in his voice. “You’re not walking away this time. Not without a damn good reason.”

Andrea froze with no place to hide—no place to run.

The past had finally caught up with her.

Chapter Eight

Brody barely held on to his control beneath a surface of pain and anger. This time he wouldn’t stand by and simply let her leave. He would fight for their future. Fight for the love burning so deep inside him that at times he thought it would consume him.

“Brody, please. Just take me home.” The sorrow in Andie’s trembling words was heartbreaking. But that’s exactly what he planned to do. Take her home where she belonged—his home—their home.

As he maneuvered the vehicle off the main road, gravel popped beneath the tires. The street led to a cliff overlooking the ocean and the house that Reece designed and Brody had built with his own two hands. Stopping the truck in front of the two-story home nestled against the lush forest, he prayed Andie would see that she belonged in Whispering Cove and in this house with him.

Yet when he opened the door and got out, she remained seated, refusing to get out of the vehicle. Brody walked around the truck and pulled her door wide, before he extended his hand to her.

Through red, swollen eyes, she stared pleadingly, shaking her head. “Please, Brody. Don’t.” Her chin quivered. “Just let me go. Leave.”

“Andie, you have been running so long, I doubt you even know anymore what you’re running from. It’s time to let it go, baby.
Just let it go
.” For both their sakes she had to put the past behind her.

She shook her head, tears starting to fall like rain. “You still don’t get it.” Her anguish seeped out as if it came from her very soul. “My parents are dead.” She blinked, batting at the river rushing down her cheeks.

“I know, baby.”

“Because of me.” Her voice trembled.

Brody’s hand fell to his side. “What?” He took a moment to digest what she had said. She couldn’t possibly think she was to blame. “Andie, I sent you the reports. A malfunction in the engine caused the explosion. It had been brand new. I helped your father install it.”

Andie smiled up through her tears, but there was no humor. Only gut-wrenching angst bled from her as she released sobs that threatened to tear her apart, as well as him. She took several choppy breaths, and then held it. When she pushed the air from her lungs, a shiver raked up his back from the icy-blue glare she nailed him with. “I made them”—her voice was eerily soft as she continued—“go out on the boat that night. Just so that I could spend the night with you.”

Brody tensed. He couldn’t speak. Did she blame him as well? Was this why she had shut him out of her life? Left him behind without even a thought or consideration of what it would do to him?

Briefly she closed her eyes, and then tossed her head back, striking the back of the seat hard. “Because of my selfishness they’re dead. I’ve lived with the shame for ten years.” A dark silence fell over her before she faced him again. “The truth is I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve happiness, the very happiness I stole from my parents.”

Her guilt, the outpour of grief was too much for him to bear.

“Oh God, Andie.” He stroked a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. “You are so filled with guilt and pain that you are blinded to the truth. It wasn’t a matter of if the engine would explode. It was a matter of when. No one could have foreseen the problem because it was internal—a factory mistake.” Brody pulled her out of the truck and into his embrace. “I thought you realized that, baby.”

Surely, she did.

There had been a large settlement. Harold had told him Andie had refused the monies. Placing the funds in a bank account in her name, her grandfather had only taken withdrawals for her schooling. He prayed that one day she would come around.

Andie muffled her cries against his chest. “No. It’s my fault. Mine.”

Brody was up against a demon—a twisted memory—that he didn’t know how to fight. Unless he could make her see the flaw in her reasoning, she was lost to him.

“Andie.”

Like a barnacle she clung to him, arms wrapped so tightly around him, he dare not move for fear of hurting her. When she shuddered in his embrace, he took the opportunity to ease back and gaze into her weary eyes. He had to make her understand. Show her what the past had done to her—to them.

“What do you think your parents would say if they could see you now? Do you think they would want you to live like you have? Alone? Without family or friends?” Perhaps it was cruel, but she needed to see the damage her thinking had brought about. “What guilt they must carry knowing that their deaths have crippled you. Shattered your dreams. Your life. Torn our future into shreds.”

Andie shuddered, releasing a heartbreaking sob that twisted his gut. As she attempted to pull in a breath, something close to panic flared in her eyes. Her mouth opened and closed and opened once again.

Shit.
She was choking.

Brody gave her a little shake. “Andie. Breathe.”

Soft, strangling sounds seeped from between her trembling lips. Helplessness screamed in her red-rimmed eyes.

“Breathe, baby.”

When she gasped, inhaling, relief filled him until her knees buckled. He tightened his grip, barely catching her from falling. Desperately, she fisted her hands into his shirt. Soothing his palm across her back, he held her until finally the tears subsided.

Brody wasn’t prepared when her arms fell to her sides. Stepping back out of his arms, her expression went cold, sending a chill up his spine.

Had he pushed her too hard? Ruined the last chance of ever finding happiness with Andie?

Through misty eyes she looked up. “You’re right.” She spoke so softly Brody almost thought he misunderstood her.

Swiping at her remaining tears, Andie hung her head. “Mom and Dad would hate my life. Who I’ve become.” Her voice trembled. “I’ve hurt everyone. You. Grandpa. Our friends.”

Brody wanted to hold her. Tell her he loved her, but he kept his distance. She was like a fragile piece of china he expected to shatter at any moment.

As her head rose, she ran her hand beneath her nose and sniffled. “I’m tired of running.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Tired of being alone.”

Years of regret burst along with a fresh group of tears, nearly drowning Brody as she flung herself into his arms.

“I’m so sorry.” She held on to him as if he were her only anchor in life. “Oh God, Brody, I’m sorry.”

Through her release he held her, knowing she had to work through this on her own. But her anguish was tearing him up inside. God. He wanted to ease her pain.

When the last tear was spent she raised her gaze to meet his. “How can you ever forgive me?”

He smiled through the barrage of emotions churning inside him. “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

Her laughter was half chuckle—half cry. “I can’t believe you said that.”

With a thumb, he wiped a lingering tear away. “I love you, Andie. I would have waited an eternity for you.”

Exhausted, both mentally and physically, Andrea couldn’t bear to look into Brody’s eyes, but he was right. Her actions throughout the years had dishonored her parents’ memory. Destroyed any semblance of happiness her mother and father would have wished for her. It took Brody’s love to open her eyes.

“I’m scared…” she admitted.

Tenderly, he kissed her forehead. “You don’t have to be. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

He still didn’t understand.

“Brody, I don’t know where to go from here.” She bit down harder on her bottom lip and the taste of blood filled her mouth.

“Stop that.” He eased the pain by rubbing his thumb across her mouth.

“For ten years I’ve been alone. Shut off from the world. I’m set in my ways. I have a career, clients, responsibilities and an apartment in California. I can’t just walk away.”

The silence between them was disturbing. Had she wedged so much distance between them that they could never find their way back?

“I can’t leave Whispering Cove,” he murmured against her head.

Andrea closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him.

They were at a stalemate.

Hanging on to him as if it was the last time she’d ever hold him, she inhaled his masculine scent. A numbing sensation spread through her. The emptiness Brody had filled for a moment was creeping back, settling so deep in her bones that she shivered.

“Andie, what do you think your parents would want you to do?”

There was no doubt in her mind what her mother and father had wanted for her. Love. Happiness. Family.

Whispering Cove was home.

Brody was home.

And her grandfather was getting older, needing someone to watch over him. She was all the family he had left.

But—

Brody eased her back in his arms. “What do
you
want, Andie?”

“You,” the word burst from her mouth before she could stop it. That’s all she had ever wanted. “But I don’t know if I can come back to the memories, to the ocean.” Chills slithered up her spine. “It haunts me.” She felt cold, so very, very cold. “I feel its pull. Hear my name whispered on the wind.” Even to her she sounded insane, but it was true.

“Andie, don’t you see the ocean misses you. It’s calling you home. Remember it was your life for so many years.” When she trembled, Brody tightened his hold. “What happened was an accident. A horrible, horrible accident. The ocean can’t be blamed any more than you can.”

The knot in her throat thickened. She fought back more tears.

“Honey, we’ll work through these things, but together. Harold will help. Our friends will help. Just come home.” The longing in his voice pulled at her heartstrings. Undying love flickered in his eyes, warming her.

Andrea truly didn’t deserve him.

Releasing a heavy sigh, she realized just how tired of running and hiding she truly was. How badly she needed to feel free, free from her guilt, her doubts, and all those memories she allowed to suck the life out of her.

“Make love to me, Brody.”

Without a word he intertwined their fingers and led her toward the stairs. Tears stung her eyes when she passed the neatly spaced pictures aligning the stairwell. Each photograph told a story of her and Brody’s childhood and teenage years together. But what broke her heart were those frames that lay empty, almost as if they waited for the moment she and Brody would reunite and finish the tale of friendship. Of love. Of hope.

Only the echo of their footsteps could be heard against the wooden steps as they climbed to the top. The bedroom they entered was spacious. Rich, polished beams across the ceiling supported a light fan that whispered softly. The large bay window faced easterly, the ocean as its backdrop. The water was so blue it looked as if she stepped off the cliff she would be walking in heaven.

Andrea’s pulse stuttered when she saw the large patchwork afghan at the foot of the bed. The blanket her mother had crocheted and kept in her hope chest for the day that Andrea and Brody married. His favorite color was navy blue, hers a softer hue that her mom had weaved together with strands of white that represented the purity of their love.