Walk On The Wild Side (21 page)

Then she thought of Anthony’s sturdy weight against her on the couch, thought of never feeling that with a child of her own. And conceded that the lover thing was a passing phase, one she was going to enjoy the hell out of while it lasted.

She went to her dresser and pulled out a tank top and sleep shorts—Brady didn’t care what she wore, as long as it was easy to pull off. She paused when she caught sight of cream satin fabric tucked in the back of her pajama drawer.

The short, silky robe and matching slip had been a birthday present from Ellie years ago, purchased from an insanely expensive lingerie shop in Paris where Ellie was vacationing with her first husband.

Molly had worn it once, when she’d tagged along with Josh to a convention in Denver. Waiting back in the hotel room, she’d slipped it on, smiling at the thought of greeting him at the door after he returned from his meetings.

But instead of coming back to the room, Josh had gone out to dinner, then drinks with his colleagues. Instead of the romantic night she’d envisioned, she’d ended up changing into her tank top and boxers, ordering room service, and watching a movie alone.

The lingerie set had been shoved in the back of the drawer so she wouldn’t be reminded of yet another time she’d waited for Josh to show up, only to have him bail.

Remembered humiliation burned bitterly at the back of her throat. She shoved it away as she dug through her drawer to find the slip and pulled it over her head. The silky fabric settled over her breasts and hips like a caress.

She had put up with Josh’s shoddy treatment years longer than she should have. There was no denying that. But tonight she was waiting for a man whose desire for her was without question. A man who would have returned to that hotel room and fucked her senseless rather than go out with a bunch of insurance salesmen.

A man who would appreciate the sight of Molly in expensive lingerie for the two minutes he let her keep it on.

The thought of his gray eyes flooding with heat at the sight of her made her nipples tighten into hard points beneath the silk. She thought of his texts earlier that day and, grinning, went to her closet to retrieve a pair of the highest heels she owned.

Black, almond toe, not quite stilettos but she doubted Brady would quibble.

She slipped them on, went to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine, and settled on the couch to wait. With the TV on for background noise she picked up her phone and checked her email. She scrolled through, deleting marketing spam from her favorite online shopping destinations, then froze when she saw a message from “P. Tanner.”

The subject line read, “Your Letter.”

Her stomach roiled and her blood went hot, then icy cold as adrenaline surged through her body, and the anxiety that she’d been trying to keep under control for the past several days came surging to the forefront. She set her wine glass on the table with a shaky hand before it could slip from her numb fingers.

Oh God, this is it. He finally answered.

Heart thundering against her ribs, she took a deep breath and opened the message.

Dear Molly,

I’m sorry it has taken me so long to respond. As you can imagine, after so many years, I had a hard time gathering my thoughts and putting them into a response.

I’m glad to hear you and your sister are doing well. I was concerned when I saw the news coverage about Ellie last year…

Not enough to get in touch, Molly thought, then shoved the bitterness aside. He’d replied. She needed to try to withhold judgment for now.

…and I’m glad to hear she’s moved on with her life and everything has settled down.

You probably won’t believe me when I say that I have thought of you girls a lot over the years, and have often wondered how your lives have turned out. From what you shared, it sounds like you have both grown into strong, successful women, for which your mother deserves all of the credit.

It was because of her and her strength that I eventually realized that it would be better for all of us if I stayed out of your lives. When your mother and I split, I was because I was at that time incapable of being a good husband and father, or even for that matter, a halfway decent one. I needed to find my own path and my own way to get out of the hole of bitterness and anger I found myself in. It was a long process, and would have done nothing but hurt you and your sister even more.

The words blurred in front of her. Molly blinked away the tears and read on, hope fluttering in her chest at the next sentence.

It was always my intention to reconnect with you and your sister. I’d hoped that one day, when I was confident I could be a positive presence in your lives, we could reestablish our relationship.

But life has a funny way of getting away from you, and plans have a way of changing. As you have moved on with your life without me, I have also moved on with my life. After several years of soul searching and getting my life back together, I met a wonderful woman named Christine.

Christine must have been the woman who answered the phone, she thought inanely, as a sense of foreboding settled over her.

Christine and I have been married for thirteen years now, and we have two amazing boys, ages eleven and thirteen.

Holy crap, she had half-brothers.

For reasons I still don’t know how to explain, I never told Christine about your mother or you and your sister. Maybe because I sensed with Christine an opportunity to make a fresh start, live my life in a completely different way than I had in the past. When I married Christine, it was as though I became a new person, with a future in front of me so bright I didn’t want to mar it with my mistakes from the past.

Molly felt her stomach sink to the tips of her toes at the casually cruel language.
Mistakes from the past.
Is that really how he viewed her and Ellie? Mistakes to be forgotten, shoved under the rug along with a past he wanted to pretend didn’t exist?

For that reason, I think it is for the best that we don’t have any further contact with one another, as I am concerned with how the knowledge that I am divorced and have children from a previous marriage will affect my wife and my relationship with her and my children.

Know that I wish the best for you and your sister, and I hope you both live long and happy lives. I’m sorry it took me so long to become the kind of husband and father that I should have been to your mother and you girls.

With love,

Patrick

Patrick. The fact that he’d signed it using his name was the final, devastating blow. Proof that he didn't think of himself as her father anymore. She reread the email twice, as though the text would change. But it was all there in front of her.

Her father didn’t want to have anything more to do with her now than he had nineteen years ago.

Her head snapped up at the sound of her front door opening and closing.

“Hey, didn’t you hear me knock?” Brady walked into the room, eyes widening before a slow grin spread across his face as his gaze locked on her high heels and slowly traveled up.

###

Brady, who was already half hard on the drive over, felt his cock surge against his fly as he hungrily took in the black pumps on her feet, up her bare legs to the hem of the silky robe. “Goddamn, just when I though you couldn’t get any hotter”—his words cut off midstream as his gaze finally landed on her face.

Hollow eyed and white as a sheet, she looked like she’d just been dealt a death blow. All thoughts of sliding that silky robe off her shoulders and having at all the goodness underneath fled as his heart squeezed in his chest at the sight of her obvious distress.

“What is it? What happened?” He shucked his jacket and hurried over to the couch.

Molly swallowed hard as he sat down next to her. “I heard from my Dad,” she said and handed him her phone.

He read Patrick Tanner’s letter, stomach sinking with every line. By the time he got to the end, he was so full of rage he wished there was a way to reach through the cloud, grab Tanner, and hang him up by his non-existent ball sack.

He shoved the anger away—Molly didn’t need his anger right now. He pulled her onto his lap and into his arms. She sat there, stiff and silent at first. Brady smoothed his hand over her hair, up and down her back, his mind groping for the right words to say. He considered himself a compassionate person with a decent level of empathy—for a guy anyway.

But he’d never felt anyone’s pain so keenly, never felt such a need to take that pain away and absorb it into himself. And never felt so goddamn helpless at his inability to do so. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

He felt her relax a degree and burrow her head deeper into the curve of his neck. “It took long enough I was beginning to think he wouldn’t answer at all,” she said. “At least this is something. At least now I know.”

But simple knowledge couldn't take away the pain of rejection emanating off of her. “He’s an idiot, and a coward.”

“I get it.” She lifted her head. “He’s got a new life, a new family, and he’s afraid of messing that up.”

“If his wife really is as great as he says, she’d love him even if she knew the truth.”

“It’s more than just the truth. He’s worried about the past ruining his future.”

Brady fought the urge to squirm under her solemn blue gaze, reminding himself they were talking about her father, not him. Besides, the circumstances were different.

“I knew this would be a likely outcome,” she continued, and his heart cracked a little at her tight expression, her desperate attempt to be stoic. “If I’m upset, it’s because I brought it on myself.”

“That doesn’t mean it hurts any less,” he said and laced his fingers through hers.

“No it doesn’t.” Her lips trembled and her eyes filled as her control started to slip.

“It’s his loss,” he said, scrambling for something to stave off the coming flood. Fuck, he’d been in firefights across the globe, and none of that had him feeling as desperate as he felt at the prospect of Molly in tears. “It’s not about you, it’s about him being a selfish idiot and a coward—”

“It’s not me, it’s him, right? Like it wasn’t me, it was Josh. Except it was me he outgrew and had to move on from if he was going to be happy.” Her voice cracked on the last word and the tears started to spill. “What is it about me, Brady, that makes me so easy to leave?”

Brady’s heart broke all the way open as he yanked her to his chest and buried his face in her hair. “You’re not, Molly.”
I will never leave you, not as long as you want me to stay.
The vow hovered on his lips, but he bit it back. Tonight, when she was devastated with grief, was not the time to reveal how deep his feelings for her went.

But soon.

Instead he held her while she cried, murmuring reassurances that she was beautiful and funny and smart and just because two assholes in the world didn’t appreciate her didn’t mean other people didn’t.

“Thanks for saying that,” she said with a shaky breath and gave him a watery smile.

“I’m not just saying it,” he said tightly. “I mean it.
I
think you’re beautiful,
I
think you’re smart and funny. And
I
appreciate you for exactly who you are.”

“Oh,” she said softly, and he wondered if she was starting to understand exactly how much she meant to him.

He bent his head and kissed her, his lips moving gently over hers.

She parted her lips, deepening the kiss. Following her lead, he slid his tongue against hers, his body heating with need as his fingers registered the sensation of silky fabric sliding over warm skin. His hand went between them and found the tie holding it together, then froze as her body shuddered and she pulled her mouth away.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “I don’t think I’m going to be much fun tonight.” She started to slide off of his lap and he wrapped his arms more tightly around her.

“It’s okay,” he pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I admit I was kind of surprised when you made a move, but happy to roll with it.”

“For a second I thought maybe it would be a good distraction, but I think I need more time to process all of this. I’m sorry you came all the way out here just to deal with me having a meltdown.”

He wondered what she would say if he told her holding her while she cried felt more like a privilege than a burden. “I’ve got big shoulders,” he said instead. “I’m always here if you need one to cry on.”

She gave him a little smile. “When did you get so nice?”

“I’ve always been nice. I just do a good job of hiding it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go change.” She pulled away and this time he let her go.

“I expect a rain check on that getup,” he said his eyes running hungrily up her smooth legs and silk draped ass as she walked away.

While she changed, Brady topped off her wine glass and poured one for himself. He settled back on the couch, picked up the remote and clicked on the TV.

Molly returned a few minutes later wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt, hair in a ponytail. It didn’t seem possible, but she was just as sexy in her sweats as she’d been in the lingerie and high heels.
Down boy,
he said when his dick took notice of the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“You don’t have to stay,” Molly curled up next to him and took the glass he handed her. “I mean, since we’re not going to…”

He set down his wine glass. “If you’d rather be alone, I’ll go. But if it’s all the same to you I’d rather hang out with you. Even if you aren’t putting out tonight.”

###

Molly stifled a sigh of relief at Brady’s words. Truth was even though she wasn’t much in the mood for sex, she really wasn’t looking forward to a night alone, stomach churning over this latest painful rejection. “That sounds good.”

Warmth coursed through her as he slung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her against his side and handed her the remote.

“Really? You’re letting me drive?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Your house, your TV.”

She scrolled through the channels, considering turning on a Lifetime movie or the Oprah network just to torture him. But then she saw one of her favorite movies playing on cable and couldn’t resist.