Page 68 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

“I’ll repeat. Duh.”

I swatted at her as she laughed. “You’re not helping.”

“What do you want me to say? I love you. I love Brody. When you two are in the same room, the sexual tension is so thick I’ve nearly choked on it for the past ten years.”

“What?” I sat up. “Nu-uh.”

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “It was only a matter of time before you realized you don’t really hate him the way you want to hate him.”

I frowned. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

“And you love me too. This could be a good thing. You’re having a baby.”

“Exactly!” I threw my hands in the air. “What if we try this and fail? What if we truly end up hating one another? I don’t want my child in the middle of that.”

“But what if it works? What if . . . what if you can give your child the life that I can never give August?”

My heart twisted. “Clara, you’re a good mom. The best.”

“And you will be too. Even if it doesn’t work, Brody is a good man. You can navigate this.”

I blew out a deep breath, leaning into her side. “I don’t know what I’m doing. With men. I haven’t had many in my life. And any guy I’ve slept with was a guy I dated. Brody was my first hookup.”

There were reasons why I was so selective when it came to lovers. Reasons why I was careful with who I let touch my body. Reasons I wouldn’t let myself think of today or talk about with Clara.

I wouldn’t drag her back to that place.

Four lovers. That was the extent of my experience. My first had been a man I’d dated in Vegas. He’d taken me on eight dates before I’d given him my virginity. I’d dumped him before date number nine because I’d been so mortified by my fears during sex.

As different boyfriends had come and gone, I’d worked through many of those fears, but they still lingered. It was difficult for me to give up control of my body. To surrender it to a man.

Until Brody.

Brody beat back the anxiety when it came to sex. There were no insecurities with him. He made it easy to relax and enjoy. Maybe because he oozed confidence and authority. Every touch was deliberate. Every caress solid. There was no fumbling, and in that surety, he made me feel safe.

Last night, and the night of the wedding, he’d given me everything I’d needed to shut out the noise and just . . . be.

“He’s not who I thought he was,” I whispered. Beneath the cement and glass exterior, there was a big, beating, beautiful heart. “What would you do?”

“Trust him,” she answered without hesitation. “Give him time. He’s learning too.”

Trust him. At least Brody had always been honest with me. There were no secrets. No lies.

I could trust him.

Clara and I sat together in silence until she had to go meet Brody for her meeting and I had to shower before going to the shop.

I drove the Cadillac into town, not ready yet to concede that the BMW Brody had bought was a really nice car. After a fun day with Marty, soaking in his wisdom and imparting some of my own, I returned home.

It hadn’t been easy to ignore thoughts of Brody at work, but I’d tried. When I walked in the house and his smell hit my nose, I knew with one breath I was in trouble.

So instead of meeting him for dinner like he’d expected, I stayed in my bedroom, watching the clock tick away until dinner. My stomach growled but I didn’t move. Cowardice was a different look for me and one I suspected wasn’t all that becoming.

What did I say? Did I want a relationship? Did I have the energy to nourish this baby and give attention to anyone else? What if Brody thought it best we return to platonic cohabitation?

The last question scared me the most.

Because it would hurt. More than I wanted to admit. If Brody rejected me, that was going to freaking sting.