Page 60 of Fight for Me

I don’t want him to find some other woman one day who will show him real love, and will strut around pregnant with his baby. I want to be that fucking woman. I want his love and the life with him.

What if it’s too late? No, no now that my mind feels clearer than ever before, I can’t let the possibility of true happiness pass me by. I’m going to fight.

With that in mind, I head back downstairs, breezing by the door to grab the discarded bag that still lies on the floor. I’m relieved to see that nothing spilled out, and walk into the kitchen, where Brody leans on the kitchen counter, drinking a beer and looking into the distance with a thoughtful expression.

When he senses my presence, he puts the bottle away and takes a step toward me.

“I’m sorry...”

“I wanted to...” We speak at the same time, and I smile shyly. “Maybe you want to eat before we can talk. Ruth told me you had some issues lately and sent me here with reinforcements.” I lift the bag.

Brody’s eyebrows climb up on his forehead as he looks at it, and without a word, he walks toward the fridge. My jaw drops when he opens it, and each of the shelves appears to be stocked with containers.

“She already dropped by a few times. Including this morning, so...” He smirks and comes to retrieve the bag from me before putting it away with the rest of the food.

“That sneaky little...” I murmur and shake my head.

“Yeah, I’m not even surprised she pulled that.” He chuckles, and the sight of his wonderful smile feels like a mouthful of cold water after being stranded in a desert for a week. Damn, I really missed him.

“Well, I felt like I was being played, but still...” I look away for a moment and then clear my throat. “I’m glad she did that, though. I think we ought to talk.”

Brody nods, his face turning more serious before he asks if I want something to drink. I decide on a glass of wine and observe him moving around the kitchen as he pours it, and takes a beer for himself before sitting opposite me at the dining table.

I take three big gulps of the red liquid for courage, then say, “I guess, I’ll go first. I’m truly sorry for how I reacted that day, Brody. You took me by surprise, and I wasn’t ready to hear what you had to say. But I guess... I guess I’m ready to hear it now... If you want, that is,” I say and bite my lip, feeling completely exposed.

He grabs my hand and shakes his head. “Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for. I was a fucking dumbass. I was hurt, and my pride overshadowed any reason. I realized how fucking stupid I was for proposing you and Henry to move in so soon, and I was scared that it’s too late now after I treated you like that. I told myself that I’m too busy with my company to deal with that, but in reality I was petrified that you will tell me to beat it. As you have the right to do still.” Then he glances in the direction of the front door with a shameful grimace and adds. “And I’m sorry about today. You showed up looking like that... And you’re so goddamn sexy when you’re angry. I just lost my mind completely.”

I smooth the material of the dress on my lap, feeling my cheeks redden. “I sort of, got the dress for you,” I mutter and feel like I want the earth to swallow me whole having admitted that.

“Did you?” Brody smiles with satisfaction and eyes my cleavage briefly. “Well, if you wanted to bring me to my knees, I happily own up to the fact that I was fucking crushed the second I lay my eyes on you.”

“So, uh...” I say shakily, changing back to the subject. “You said that you won’t press on the matter of us living here. But, umm, does it mean that’s not something that you want anymore?” I ask timidly and peer at Brody from under my lashes.

He straightens in his seat and throws me a questioning look.

“Because I think I would like to try... the relationship thing, I mean.”

“Really?” Brody asks slowly, his face getting unreadable.

I lick my dry lips and take a breath before I reply with conviction. “Yes. DamonBrody, if we were to recreate the scene from last week, my answer now would be yes.”

I watch with a frown as he stands up from the table without a word, his face determined, then marches to my chair and pulls me up by the arms before throwing me over the shoulder.

“Brody, what the fuck are you doing?” I scream in bewilderment.

“You said if we were to recreate the scene, you would say yes this time. I say, let’s go and recreate it,” he responds, and I laugh.

“You’re crazy! Let me go!” I plead, but I can’t stop the giant grin from appearing on my face.

“Not in a million years,” he says as he carries me to the bathroom.

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