Broken (Brody Brothers Book 4) Page 14

  “You’re not weird because of that, but you are weird,” Killian offered, then chuckled when his wife swatted his booty. He gave her one last kiss before waving his farewells as he headed for the archway. “I’ve got to get to work, ladies. Try and stay out of trouble, yeah?”

  “Never, Brody,” Dallas called after him, then sighed when they heard the front door close. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

  “He’s the most wonderful kidnapper I’ve ever met.”

  “Right? What do you have there?” Dallas went on, taking a seat behind the desk.

  Winnie opened her sketchpad to her latest design and flipped it around for the other woman to see. “I’m in a romper kind of mood. The only problem with this type of outfit is that you have to get naked just to go to the bathroom.”

  “I know, but rompers are so friggin’ cute they’re impossible to resist.” Dallas leaned over and made a sound of delight as she examined the drawing. “Winnie, you’re insanely talented. You could make a real go at fashion design. Have you ever given it a thought?”

  “You mean head for the big city to make the rounds with my portfolio?” She shrugged and turned her sketchpad back around to study her design. “That used to be the only dream I had when I was kid. But now that I’m older, I realize those dreams of using design to get away from Bitterthorn was just my desperation to get out of my father’s house. He was…not pleasant.”

  Dallas wrinkled her nose. “I’ve heard Killian talk about your father on occasion. He used a lot of words that can’t be mentioned in polite company.”

  “There was no good in Able Smiley, that’s for sure.” It hurt her to admit it, but not as much as it used to. Long ago she’d learned there was no shame in being related to a monster, because it wasn’t her fault. She’d had no control over him; she only had control over herself, and she’d gotten out of the hell he’d created as soon as she’d been able to break free. Far from being shamed, the courage it had taken to escape the hell he’d created for her was something she was incredibly proud of. “For now I’m content to hone my craft and perfect my style, so I’m happy where I am.”

  “I’m happy where you are, too. With you sticking around in Bitterthorn, I’m always going to have a kickass wardrobe, and my little brother will be thrilled that you’re not anxious to leave Bitterthorn behind when you obviously could make a name for yourself anywhere in the world.”

  “Your brother?” Winnie raised her eyes from the sketch to find Dallas watching her. “Des? What does he have to do with anything?”

  “I don’t know. Does Des have anything to do with you staying in Bitterthorn?”

  “Bitterthorn’s my home. I was born here, I have a great job, and my friends are here. My Granny’s here. As for Des…” She shook her head, not sure how they got into these waters, so navigating them was going to be tricky. “He’s that boy who always sat next to me on the school bus, but never said a word. He’s the boy I wanted to follow home. He’s the man who didn’t acknowledge my existence until after my father was dead, because he believed I’d inherit a property he wants. When I didn’t inherit it, that was when he kissed me for the first time. Now he’s the man who thinks so much of my comfort, he’s installing the latest in central air in a building where I live, a building he doesn’t even own.” She gestured uselessly, widening her eyes at Dallas. “That’s what Des is. If you can make any sense out of that mess, you’re a better woman than I am.”

  “Wow,” Dallas murmured, cupping her chin in her hand as she grinned at her. “Brody men run so true to form—hopelessly backward, with the absolute worst social skills on the planet. I blame their upbringing, which was a nightmare, by the way. Des’s especially.”

  “He’s given me that impression.” She bit her lip, then sighed. “Actually, he’s flat-out said he was an abused child a couple times now.”

  Dallas’s brows shot up. “That’s huge, Winnie. He’s not usually big on sharing. To know that he trusts you like that—”

  “It’s not that he trusts me. I mean,” she went on when Dallas looked at her questioningly, “I honestly don’t know if he trusts me or not. I’m not big in the trusting department, and neither is he, so that’s one thing we understand about each other. Sometimes I think he only lets me see glimpses of who he is because he’s trying to get me to open up and show him the same thing. Because our backgrounds might be…” She searched for the right word. “Similar.”

  “I see.” A corner of Dallas’s mouth curled. “So you think he’s just playing a game with you? You show me yours if I show you mine?”

  “He once told me that he hated games. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t play them.”

  “Uh-huh. So in other words, the Brodys aren’t the only ones who have malfunctioning social skills. No offense,” she added dryly while Winnie stiffened. “It’s just that you seem to be missing a very big and obvious fact because you’re so busy worrying about keeping your guard up.”

  “Really.” Winnie tried not to huff, but it was damn hard not to. “What obvious fact am I missing?”

  “Des wants you to open up to him, Winnie. He’s never pushed me, his own sister, to open up about what my life was like once we were separated as children. Granted, I think Kill probably clued him in on a few things,” she added fairly, tilting her head. “But Des has never revealed any pain he’s gone through—not the grief he must’ve felt when he was forced to quit rodeoing, and certainly not the pain over the mistreatment he suffered while growing up in this house. Not to me, and not to my husband, anyway. But he’s more than willing to do that with you because he trusts you. That’s what you’re overlooking. My brother trusts you to handle everything he’s got inside of him—the good, and the bad. I don’t know your story, but I’d be willing to bet you understand the enormity of that kind of trust better than anyone. Am I right?”

  “I…” The weight of Dallas’s words landed on her like a ton of bricks, crushing the breath out of her. That was something she hadn’t even considered. But it was true; Des was willing to let her see who he was. That was the gift he was choosing to give her. More than that, he was taking a chance on believing in her ability to take care of that gift.

  Did she want to?

  In that moment, she’d never wanted anything more.

  “There you are.” Sounding irritated, Des stalked through the open archway, the brown cowboy hat he’d been wearing when they first spoke firmly in place. “Answer your damn texts, woman.”

  “Oops. I think I have it on silent.” Hastily she dug the phone out of her dress’s slash pocket, only to have the note from her gift upstairs fall to the floor. Des bent to pick it up, then lifted a brow at the lingerie company’s logo embossed in gold on the envelope.

  “I take it the package came?” Without asking permission, he slid the card out from the envelope, scanned it briefly then held it out to her with a satisfied grin. “I got the size right, yeah?”

  “You did.” Praying her face wasn’t as blood red as it felt, she snatched the card out of his hand. “Um… thank you.”

  “I’m a man of my word. And I think I’m right about my hands. What’s your opinion on that score?”

  “I think you need to explain why you sent that package here to the main house,” she shot back, horrified he might openly talk about how her boobs would fit into his hands right in front of his sister. Horrified, and heaven help her, so hopelessly turned on her nipples puckered almost painfully at the thought of those work-rough hands massaging their way over her delicate skin… “You had no idea I was going to agree to be here this morning.”

  “Yeah, I did. Phone.”

  “What?”

  “Phone, Winsome.”

  She sighed noisily when he held out his hand. “This again?”

  “Yep.” Plucking the phone out of her hand, he fiddled with it, then held it up to his mouth. “Set a daily reminder alarm for noon.”

  “Why?” Winnie asked, taking the phone back once he was satisfied. “What’s suppo
sed to happen at noon every day?”

  “Lunch.”

  She stared at him. “Yes, I know.”

  “I get the feeling you need a reminder to get your head out of whatever creative cloud it’s in so you can grab some lunch with me. When you hear this alarm go off, that’s your cue to come find me and feed me.”

  “Feed you?” Frantically she cast about for some quick, on-the-spot lunch ideas. “Uh, what are your feelings about peanut butter and jelly?”

  “I think we can do better than that.” With a chuckle, he swept his hat off, bent to her level and gave her a quick kiss before glancing over at Dallas. “You two getting along all right?”

  “Absolutely.” Dallas’s smile was a glowing work of art as she kept her chin cupped in her hand. “I’m thrilled you brought her here, Des. I love seeing you happy and laughing.”

  “I’m always happy.” He scowled, looking like he’d never had a happy day in his life before he tugged Winnie out of her chair. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s go see what kind of grub we’ve got to fend on. Doesn’t have to be fancy, because tonight I’m grilling you up a meal fit for royalty over at my place.”

  “In that case, I think I’d better come up with something that’s way better than peanut butter and jelly,” Winnie announced, making Des laugh.

  Chapter Ten

  “Wow.”

  Dressed in the white sundress with the massive red and purple hibiscus splashed over one side of it, Winnie stepped off the last stair and into the grand foyer, only to turn in surprise at the feminine voice coming from the hall behind her. A raven-haired woman and a tall, broad-shouldered man with close-cropped black hair stood at the edge of the foyer. The moment Winnie laid eyes on the man, she clocked him as yet another Brody. Ry, the second oldest brother, was the only one she hadn’t met yet, so she wasn’t at all surprised when the woman came forward, all smiles.

  “Hi, I’m Celia Brody, and this is my husband, Ry. You’re Winnie from Cleone’s Closet, right?”

  That was one way of putting it. “I work there, yes, and live in the apartment above the shop. I think I’ve seen you in the store a few times, yes?”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it, since it’s my favorite shop in Bitterthorn, thanks to all your designs.” Celia beamed while lacing her hand with her husband’s. “We heard through the ranch grapevine that you were staying at the main house, so we thought we’d drop by to say hi, and to see if you had any dinner plans.”

  “She does.” Dallas came into the foyer with her husband, slinging a purse over her shoulder and clearly getting ready to go home for the day. “Des is going to pick Winnie up any second now. He’s promised to take her to his place so he can grill her a dinner fit for royalty, I believe was the exact quote.”

  Killian made an impatient sound. “What the hell, are you serious? She gets an invite out to Des’s place right off the bat, while I’ve been waiting fucking years to be invited over for a beer? What the hell’s that all about?”

  “Dude, you don’t have, like, a yard and a half of gorgeous curly hair and a knockout hourglass figure,” Celia said before turning to a now-mortified Winnie. “Sorry, hon, but it’s totally true. You have the most amazing head of hair on earth, and a killer bod to boot. Now tell me where you got that dress, because it literally took my breath away when I saw you coming down the stairs just now.”

  It was official. She adored Celia. “I made it.”

  Celia gasped. “Oh, my God, I want. Can I find it at Cleone’s?”

  “It’s an original, I’m afraid. A lot of my designs wind up on the racks at Cleone’s, but not everything. The designs I adore the best, I keep only for myself.”

  “Oh hell, now you’ve done it,” Ry drawled while Celia clutched at her chest as if shot. “I know my wife, Winnie Smiley. She’s not going to rest until she gets some kind of version of that dress out of you, mark my words.”

  “This is true.” Celia recovered enough to nod until her thick black hair bounced. “At the very least, to make up for my disappointment, you have to promise to come over tomorrow night and have dinner with me and my crazy tribe. That way I can try to talk you into letting me at least borrow that fab dress.”

  “Um…” At that moment, the front door opened. Winnie turned, hoping it was Des swooping in to save her. Instead, Fin and a hugely pregnant, willowy blonde woman came in.

  “Whoa,” Fin muttered, looking around at the crowd in the foyer while curling an arm around the woman Winnie assumed was his wife, Lilah. “Who called this meeting?”

  “No meeting, man,” Killian said with a shake of his head. “Spice and I were just getting ready to head on out, and Ry and Cel dropped in to invite our houseguest over for a meal.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Fin announced, waving a hand Winnie’s way. “What do you say, Win? Come on out with Lilah and me and get the hell away from this dump for a few hours.”

  “You all are so friendly,” Winnie couldn’t help but marvel, torn between being overwhelmed and touched by their thoughtfulness. “Do all your guests get such royal treatment?”

  “Truth be told, we wanted make sure you’re here of your own volition,” the blonde said, her tone desert-dry as she shot Killian a speaking glance. “The last time a Brody set a woman up to stay at the main house, she was actually the victim of a kidnapping. This time around, Fin and I decided to make sure you actually want to be here. I’m Lilah, by the way. You’re Winnie?”

  “That’s me.” She found herself laughing with the others while Killian heaved a sigh and again looked to the heavens. As far as she was concerned, he’d earned it. “Thanks for the invitation, Lilah, and for worrying about me. I’m actually having dinner over at Des’s tonight—”

  The front door opened again, and Des strolled through, wearing a crisp white button-down shirt, black jeans and black boots. His hair looked damp and swept back off his brow, and the moment he locked on to the crowd in the foyer, that brow clouded with a thunderous scowl.

  “What the actual fuck,” he muttered, letting the door shut behind him. Then he found Winnie in the crowd and held out an imperious hand. “Winsome.”

  “Desmond.” Two could play at that game.

  His fingers beckoned once. “Get out of there.”

  “Sure.” Slowly, just so he knew she wasn’t about to jump when he barked a damn order, she sashayed her way toward him and slipped her hand into his. Half a second later she was under his arm and glued to his side, the freshly showered scent of soap and man filling her senses until she was almost dizzy with it. “Anything wrong? I get the weirdest feeling you don’t know these people.”

  “Oh, I know these people, all right. That’s why I’m getting you the hell out of here. Have a great night everyone. Don’t wait up.” With that pronouncement, he gently but firmly guided her out the door.

  *

  “You know,” Winnie remarked once Des had gotten her into the truck and wasted no time in pointing them down the dirt track that eventually led to his house, “I think you might owe your family an apology once you all meet up again. They were just being nice and making sure someone was looking after me.”

  “Baby girl, that is the last damn thing they were doing, believe me.”

  In the fading light, he saw her brows inch up. “What do you think they were doing?”

  “Getting a good look at you.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Pardon me?”

  “What’s more, they were in mid-wolfpack when I showed up. Another minute and there would’ve been no escape for you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “They’re nosy, Winsome. They’re always up in everybody’s business even on a good day, but ever since my brothers all settled down—and I nearly died after that bull gored me—they’ve been downright impossible.”

  “In what way?”

  He sighed and searched for the right words. “They’re constantly worrying about me. Asking me if I’m okay because I was forced out of rodeo, and when am
I going to start thinking about settling down. It’s like they’ve all lost their damn minds.”

  “They love you, Des. Though I have to admit I’m suddenly more grateful than I’ve ever been that I’m an only child.”

  That made him pause. “As batshit crazy as my siblings have made me over the years, I guess I’m still glad I had them to get me through the tough times. Even Killian, though it’d probably kill both of us if I admitted that out loud.”

  “That reminds me,” she said, turning in her seat to face him better. “Everyone keeps saying things aren’t all that great between you and your oldest brother. Why don’t you two get along? I know I just met him, but Killian seems like a great guy.”

  He shifted in his seat, suddenly less than comfortable in his own skin. “Fin and I are only four months apart in age. When I was dumped on the Brody doorstep, we were too young to understand the implications of that. We were just thrilled to suddenly have a built-in playmate. Ry was that way, too. But Kill…” He gripped the steering wheel with unnecessary force as unwanted memories seeped up from the dark places where he tried to keep them. “Kill was twelve when I showed up, so he understood everything. What’s more, he was a mama’s boy. He was offended on her behalf that I existed, and that I’d come along to ruin their so-called perfect world. He told me to my face more times than I can count that he wished I’d never been born, and that he hated my guts. After a while, I got smart and hated his guts right back, with interest.”

  She winced. “Wow. That’s a lot.”

  “Hell, yeah, it is.”

  “The thing is, he was still just a child, Des. Older than you, yes, but he was still just a child.”

  “The adult me gets that now, but old habits die hard. And hating Kill is a habit I’ve had almost all my life. Maybe I’m too old to change.”