Page 8 of His Secret


  “I do,” she said with a smile. “It’s such a cool, tranquil stone. It will encourage the atmosphere we want here. Obviously, it doesn’t fit the rustic aura here, but we’ve used it in every place it’s appropriate.”

  “Have you finished all of the remodeling?” I put things away as I talked, preferring to keep my hands busy.

  “We still have a few things to finish on one of the cabins,” Kevin said. “It had some damage to its roof that took a little more time than we thought.”

  “Are you waiting until it’s done to officially open?” I knew better than to ask outright if they had a specific opening date. My parents tended to be the sort of people who scheduled things by feel rather than anything else, which meant they did very little planning ahead.

  “We put out the word to people in some of Kevin’s old social circles and decided that we would let fate determine when we officially opened.”

  Blair’s answer was pretty much what I’d thought she’d say.

  “And it just so happens that we have a set of brothers coming in this weekend. A prestigious family who we’re confident will spread the word,” Kevin said. He put his arm around Blair and kissed the top of her head. “You’ll be able to be here, right, Brea? We don’t know if they’re the sort of people who’d enjoy the bounties of nature, but we want them to be able to see everything we have to offer.”

  I scanned my mental calendar. “I can do that.”

  I’d need to juggle a few things, but I could make it work. Besides, I wanted to make sure my parents knew they had my support one hundred percent. When they got bored and went on to the next thing, at least we’d all have spent quality time together. If my business in town didn’t suffer, I was willing to be flexible about working here.

  “What did you say the family did?” Blair asked, looking up at Kevin.

  “Business acquisitions and liquidations,” he said.

  “What does that mean?”

  Once he started talking business, I tuned him out. I loved my father dearly, but he tended to drone on a bit when he explained things. Blair was certain he’d been a professor in a past life.

  I set a box of willow bark on the counter, but just as I was ready to turn away, a thought struck me. I usually used tins for my teas, but on occasion, I did sell things in wooden boxes. They’d always been simple but well-made containers I purchased in bulk, but as I ran my thumb over the front of the lid, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a better way of doing business.

  Making a table and chairs wasn’t the same as making a box, but I’d seen how delicate the scrollwork was on the furniture. I had no doubt that Blake could do it. I just wasn’t sure if he’d be comfortable with me asking. I wouldn’t expect it for free, of course, or even a discount, but I knew some people were reluctant to mix business with pleasure.

  My stomach twisted, and I felt the need to press my thighs together. We’d definitely enjoyed the pleasure.

  I only wished I knew what it meant.

  The way things kept happening between us was strange. We’d both been aware of each other for a while, then had a rather rude introduction. A date, during which we’d had sex on his kitchen counter. Then nothing for two days until he showed up at my store and we’d gone at it like some horny high schoolers. And I hadn’t heard from him since.

  Even though it wasn’t my usual way of doing things, I could’ve written this off as a fling. A one-night stand and then a quickie to get each other out of our respective systems. Except something in my gut told me that it was more.

  I put the willow bark on one of the shelves and adjusted the sign next to it. I despised price tags and preferred hand-written, hand-decorated signs that gave the name and price of each item. Granted, it took a lot of time, but I’d always found something soothing about doing each one.

  I didn’t understand why it would be more with Blake. Not only was this not how I usually conducted my romantic life, but he wasn’t even my type. I’d always prided myself on not having a physical type, but when it came to personality and other of those sorts of characteristics, I had a specific type of man in whom I’d always been interested.

  Intelligent, though not necessarily book smart. Articulate, more in the ability to communicate than an overabundance of words. Compassionate, but not a pushover. Strong, but not overbearing. An ability to smile and laugh while also knowing there was a time to be serious as well.

  Some people might’ve called me picky, but that wasn’t really a list of standards as much as it was the actual qualities of the men I’d dated in the past. All of them should have been the men of my dreams, but there’d been enough missing from each relationship that it had ended.

  Blake might’ve had some of those qualities, but he was as far from like the men from my past as I was sure I was from the women he’d dated before. My boyfriends had been…delicate wasn’t the right word, but they’d been the sort of men who never would have looked at home on a ranch. Blake was rugged and masculine in what should have felt like a stereotypical way, but I didn’t get the impression from him that he thought of himself as being some sort of macho manly man. This was just who he was.

  “Brea?”

  I blinked, snapping back from where my mind had taken me. Blair was giving me a curious look that told me she’d said my name more than once.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just thinking.”

  I didn’t tell her what – who – I’d been thinking about, and she didn’t ask. If I would’ve thought I could get some advice from her, I would’ve shared, but I’d learned a long time ago that my parents weren’t really the people I wanted to talk to about relationships. I was all for consenting adults doing whatever it was that worked for them, but I didn’t want what they had.

  I wanted the white picket fence and a husband and kids. A dog. That sort of thing. And I couldn’t help but wonder if Blake wanted any of that too.

  Fifteen

  Blake

  I finished the final cut and breathed a sigh of relief. The intricate rose pattern I’d been carving into one of the boat’s seats had been some of my most challenging work, but not because it was more complex than anything else I’d done. No, it was because I’d been holding myself to a higher standard than usual. Considering that I’d always demanded perfection from myself, that was saying something.

  This time, however, I hadn’t been thinking about how it looked to my eye, but how it would’ve looked to someone else’s eye. Even though Brea would most likely never see this boat, I’d spent the entire time thinking about what she’d think about it.

  After I put everything away, I headed back to the house to clean up and go through the mail I’d put off since the beginning of the week. My bills were all on auto-pay, so I’d gotten into the bad habit of letting my mail pile up rather than going through it each day.

  Nearly an hour later, I was clean but aggravated as I weeded through the last of the junk mail. I’d always thought email was supposed to have killed the postal service, but no one would ever know that by looking at how much shit came through each day.

  My phone rang, and for once I was grateful for the distraction. For a moment, I found myself hoping that it was Brea, but then I remembered that I was supposed to be over her.

  Could I get over someone I wasn’t really involved with?

  Before I could take that thought any further, I saw my brother’s name on my screen. The last time Jax called, it’d been to tell me that Grandfather was dying, and I needed to come back to Boston as soon as possible. What had happened now?

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “But we do need to talk. All of us.”

  I closed my eyes. “If you’re talking about that bullshit Grandfather put in his will, I don’t give a damn about it. The three of you can talk and work it all out and split my inheritance. I’ve got my own money. I don’t need his.”

  “It’s about more than the money
.”

  I scowled. “When has it ever been about more than the money?”

  Jax’s voice was even, patient. “All three of us are going to be in your area tomorrow, and we want to meet.”

  “I live near Rawlins, Wyoming. Population just over nine thousand people. No one is ever just ‘in the area.’”

  “Well, we’re going to be there to talk to you. To each other. All four of us are going to sit down and actually talk to each other.”

  I bristled at the command in his voice. “And if I don’t want to?”

  A little voice in the back of my head told me that I did want to. I ignored it.

  “Please, Blake. A lot has happened, and we need to talk about it. Make amends.”

  I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t the one who needed to make amends. I’d been a fucking kid, and they’d abandoned me for whatever had captured their attention at the time. At least they had memories of our parents and Aimee. I didn’t have anything except a giant hole where my family used to be.

  “Give us tomorrow,” he continued. “We’ll go someplace neutral and talk. If it turns out we can’t manage it, you can walk away, and we won’t bother you again.”

  That was what I wanted. What I should have wanted. A clean break where I’d never need to think about any of them again. Grandfather had been the last thing holding us together, and now that he was gone, we didn’t need to pretend that we cared about each other.

  Despite everything I told myself, however, a part of me still wanted my brothers. I wanted us to make up for all those years apart, to become a family again. We’d never be like it should have been, with all of us, but we could have more than what we had now. I just hadn’t acknowledged that part of me until this moment.

  “Okay,” I said. “Tomorrow.”

  “Excellent,” Jax said briskly. “We’ll be at your place first thing in the morning, and then we’ll go to that neutral ground.”

  He hung up before I could argue, and I frowned at my phone. One of these days, Jax wasn’t going to get everything he wanted, and I hoped I was there to gloat.

  I tossed my phone onto the seat next to me and picked up the next envelope. I might as well finish this and then find something else to do. I doubted I’d be getting much in the way of sleep tonight.

  Sixteen

  Brea

  I was bored out of my mind and couldn’t figure out the best way to make my escape. It was nearing evening, and I’d already finished everything I could possibly do in my shop, plus helped Blair and Kevin get the rooms ready for tomorrow. They planned on using the bunkhouses for company retreats, while groups like this one coming in tomorrow would be put up in a suite of rooms on the second floor. The contractors they’d hired had done amazing work, putting rooms together so that guests would have up to four bedrooms and a main sitting area with a small kitchenette, giving them plenty of options about what they wanted to do.

  Now that all the work here was done however, Blair and Kevin were getting into one of their aura cleansing moods. I didn’t begrudge them their beliefs, but it wasn’t exactly the most fun thing to watch if you’d seen it a hundred times growing up. I’d agreed to spend the night in the room they’d set up for me since that meant I wouldn’t have to get up early to be here before the guests, but now I was wondering if that was a mistake. If I’d been going home, I could’ve listed a hundred things I needed to do when I got there and left early, but because they knew I was staying, any excuse to leave would mean I didn’t want to be out here with them. They’d always given me my space to do my own thing, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty for wanting to get away after not having seen them in so long.

  When my phone rang, I grabbed for it, hurrying out of the room as I answered, “Hello?”

  I hadn’t even thought to look at the Caller ID. A telemarketer would’ve been welcome at this point.

  “Brea?”

  There was no mistaking that voice. “Blake?”

  “Yeah. Are you busy?”

  “No.” I wasn’t busy, but I was curious.

  “Can you come over?”

  The question sounded casual, but there was something under the words that I couldn’t put my finger on. Something that made me think that he’d called me because I was the only one who could give him what he needed.

  “I’ll be there in a few.”

  We were going to have sex; that wasn’t even a question in my mind. Whether or not he’d share the real reason he’d called me, I didn’t know, but I’d be there for him either way.

  First, however, I was going to take a quick shower, during which I’d come up with a valid, but not entirely honest, reason to give my parents for why I was leaving.

  I’d dressed casually this time. I didn’t exactly know what this was, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t a date. I didn’t think it was even a ‘booty call’ either. I didn’t have much experience with those sorts of things, but it didn’t really feel like that to me. It felt like something was wrong, and he needed me.

  I had my hand up to knock when the door opened, and Blake caught my wrist, pulling me to him. I had a moment to register my own surprise, and then his mouth was on mine, hard and urgent. His hands moved over my back and down to my ass, squeezing it, and then sliding his hands under the back of my shirt. I made a sound in the back of my throat as his work-roughened fingers slid across my skin.

  He kicked the door closed and then pressed me back against it, his body firm against mine. His teeth worried at my bottom lip, tongue soothing it before plundering my mouth again. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my fingers in his hair, letting my body say what I didn’t have words for.

  His hand worked its way into my pants, under the elastic waistband of my panties, fingers probing and parting flesh, finding my clit. He wasn’t gentle, making circles back and forth as he swallowed my whimpers and cries, but I didn’t push him away. He needed to make me come even more than I wanted it.

  The pressure building inside me quickly reached the boiling point, and I came on his hand, shuddering and shaking with the intensity of my climax. I broke the kiss to drop my forehead onto his shoulder, his strength the only thing keeping me on my feet.

  I reached for his pants, but he caught my hands. I raised my head and found him looking at me.

  “Not here, not like this.”

  I brushed my lips across his. “Well, that was one hell of a welcome.”

  His mouth twitched, but I didn’t see any humor in his eyes.

  Something was very wrong. “Are you okay?”

  He straightened, keeping one arm around my waist. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay.” I lightly touched the side of his face. “I won’t push. Just know I’ll listen.”

  He nodded once, a shadow crossing his face. “And if listening isn’t what I called you over here for?”

  I ran my hands over his chest, pleased to see desire flaring in his eyes. Some people might think that talking out problems was the only solution, but there was something to be said for distractions too.

  “Lead the way.”

  He took my hand, our eyes locking as he kissed my knuckles. We headed straight for the stairs, and I followed him up, admiring the way his tight ass moved in his jeans. Just because this wasn’t a date didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the view.

  The room he took me into looked like a guest room rather than his bedroom, but I wasn’t insulted. A bedroom was a very personal space, and even in the short time I’d known him, I could tell he wasn’t someone who allowed people close very often. Maybe, one day, we’d get there. Maybe not. For right now, I intended to enjoy things as they were.

  “You remembered about the bed,” I said lightly.

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” he said. He turned toward me. “I…want to try something with you.”

  “Want isn’t what you were going to say first,” I said, “is it?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “Then say it.
” I pulled my t-shirt over my head. “I’m here, with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Need,” he said quietly. “I was going to say that I need to try something with you. But I don’t need it–”

  “It’s okay,” I said as I took off my pants. “Tell me. I’ll be honest. If it’s too much, I’ll say it.”

  When he walked over to a set of closet doors, I thought he was going to reject my offer, but instead, he opened the closet and stepped aside to let me look in.

  I recognized most of the toys, though I hadn’t ever used any of them. Fuzzy handcuffs. A flogger. A crop. A couple vibrators of varying sizes and shapes were on top of a shelf. Blindfolds.

  Seriously, not a guestroom.

  “It’s all right if you’re not interested in this sort of thing,” he said. “I don’t need it.”

  “Yes…” I met his gaze and held it, “you do. Maybe not all the time, but right now you need it.”

  I picked up one of the blindfolds. It was a soft satin mask, crimson, with delicate floral patterns sewn in. I turned to the toys and selected a smooth silicone vibrator. When I turned back to him, he was watching me, his expression unreadable.

  I walked back over to him and held out the toy and the blindfold. “You’re in charge.”

  He took them both and gestured toward the bed. “Strip.”

  Since I was mostly undressed, I removed my underwear and bra, setting them on top of the rest of my clothes. Then I went and sat on the edge of the bed. He came over to stand in front of me, then reached out, brushing my hair away from my face.

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “I’ll say if I want you to stop.”

  He slid the mask into place, effectively blocking out my vision, but it didn’t bother me. I knew I could trust him. Whatever he was going to do, I was sure I’d enjoy it.

  “Lie back.”

  I pushed myself back onto the bed and laid down, leaving myself open and exposed to him. I had butterflies in my stomach, but they were more anticipation than anxiety.