Page 34 of New Hope, Old Grudges

I realized then that in the wake of my father’s death, there were still things that could strip me apart. Like losing my company. My friends who didn’t answer my calls when I was no longer the jewelry designer to the stars.

Apart from Avery.

She had been there for me. She helped figure out how to pay my staff, how to get me a lawyer to ensure there wasn’t any legal blowback. That had been humiliating, having a bunch of people see how I’d handed over my life’s work to someone so evil and let them take it from me, right under my nose.

“Jesus, Will.” Brody raked a hand over his face. “I had no idea.”

I smiled sadly. “Well, I’m glad to hear the news wasn’t national, at least. It was quite the scandalous story in L.A. for a while. Until I left. And deleted all Google alerts with my name attached.”

“That’s why you’re here,” he deduced.

“Because I had nowhere else to go.” I admitted. “Figures that I’d come back only when my life was in the toilet and not when my family needed me.”

Something moved in his eyes, replacing the fury that had burned there when I was speaking about Geoff.

“The fight that you and your brother had…”

“Was because of me,” I finished for him. “Because I didn’t come home when our father died.” My throat was tight. Thick with grief. With shame. I didn’t care what Brody thought of me. That’s what I told myself, at least. Still, my gaze went downward, and my cheeks warmed.

“I couldn’t face it,” I whispered. “The house without him. This town without him. I had a …complicatedrelationship with my mother. You already know about the …complicatedrelationship I had with those in my peer group.”

Brody winced and opened his mouth, likely to apologize again. I waved him off. Who would’ve thought I would’ve been waving off Brody Adams’s apologies? Who would’ve thought I’d be stuck in a cabin with him on Thanksgiving?

Life was exceptionally funny.

Kick you right in the vagina kind of funny.

If anyone would’ve enjoyed this situation, it would’ve been my father.

“My father is the only reason I would’ve come back to this town,” I sighed. “And even when he was alive, I didn’t. I found excuses for every holiday, for every anniversary, for every birthday, every fucking full moon ceremony my mother threw.” I rolled my eyes but felt a pang of guilt for the attitude I’d given my mother pretty much my entire life and the consistent love, patience and acceptance she’d met that attitude with.

“They came to visit in L.A.,” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “When the first luxury department store stocked my jewelry, they both came. My mother wore every single piece I’d ever designed, even the stuff that I’d thought I’d thrown away as ‘mistakes’ when I was still learning.”

I smiled at the memory, even though I hadn’t smiled at the time. I’d been embarrassed, as I always was of my mother. But in L.A., the place where it was impossible to be ‘weird,’ my mother fit right in. In fact, everyone at my launch party thought she was some eccentric billionaire and had sucked up to her, then subsequently came to me about opportunities to stock my jewelry after my mother had done nothing but sing my praises. Well, and also read everyone’s auras.

“They made the effort to see me, both of them, even when I didn’t deserve that effort.” I shook away the tears I was not going to let fall. “There were no guilt trips about me not coming back.”

“And when my father died, I just…” I paused, looking at the snow falling outside. “I couldn’t come back,” I whispered. “Because if I didn’t come here, if I didn’t watch him get put in the ground, if I didn’t step foot in a house that didn’t contain his laughter, then I would be able to believe he was still here… Alive.

“It’s a fucking bullshit excuse for me being a coward.” I shook my head. “My brother was right… Losing everything I worked for was my karma.”

Suddenly, Brody was not across the sofa from me. He was no longer holding a wine glass and mine had clattered on the coffee table. He’d done all of this in smooth movements, his hands now on my neck. “You stop that fucking shit right now,” he growled, pinning me with a fierce gaze. “No fucking way in hell did you deserve a second of what happened to you, and I won’t hear another second of you trying to lay any blame on yourself for how you dealt with your grief.”

I froze, not knowing how to respond to the emotion in his words. At his hands on my neck. His grip was firm, dry, yet his fingers were rough against my skin.

My heart was a hummingbird in my chest.

I was going to have sex with Brody Adams. I’m not sure at what point of the night I made that decision. I’d like to think it was after the wine, but I was also good at lying to myself. But whenever I decided something, I did it.

The sexual tension between us had been simmering since that night in the bar. Yeah, I told myself I was going to seduce him purely to get back at him, but I had reasons of my own.

“I think, I’m done talking,” I whispered, our mouths inches apart. “In fact, I think I’m ready for bed.”

I replicated the seductive tone I’d used in the bar, but this time it was huskier, roughened by true need.

“I’ve got a guest room,” he murmured, veins in his neck pulsating. I saw him trying to hold on to his control. Trying not to take my words for the double entendre they were.

I licked my lips which tasted like red wine and bad decisions.

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