Brand Me (Imagine Ink Book 2) (4 page)

“Sorry man, it’s just I didn’t get much sleep and now, I’ve got a cluster headache starting and I need silence until I can get to the dark of the cabin.”

John’s eyebrow waggle paired with a sympathetic smile told Michael he understood his predicament but misunderstood the reason. Fine by him, as long as John shut up, he wouldn’t be at risk of talking about last night and asking his friend the dumbest question known to man.

Proving to be an intuitive travel companion, John was mum—not a word the whole time until he pulled up and helped Michael unload his bags. “I dropped Tori off not too far from here, hmm, small world. I’ve lived out this way for years but never came up here before. Nice area.”

The nearest cabin not owned by the Brande family was about three quarters of a mile walking distance in one direction, and a solid three, around the finger, past the rest of the Brande cabins, in the other. Michael knew which way he would be heading for his morning runs to avoid Tori and her asshole boyfriend. Of course, that meant running past the cabin housing his brother, no way to avoid them both. However, that wasn’t a worry, the only way Richard would go for a run would be if he were being chased by something that wanted to kill him.

Michael thanked John and watched him leave from the doorway. Once he was out of sight, Michael made his way to the back porch, letting his eyes drift around the lake, taking in a scene he’d thought never to see again. It was getting dark because of a storm and he could see the faintest flicker up at the main cabin, so Richard was already there. He did some quick calculations in his head on the probability of avoiding both Richard one-way and the dark-haired temptress the other. The numbers weren’t in his favor.

It was highly likely he would run into one, or both, of them at some point over the next months. Just twenty-four hours ago, the thought of running into Tori gave him something to look forward to on this trip. The lake was about five miles around. He could run that every day, no problem. He’d had it all planned out—an accidental run in, an invitation to come in for coffee, and then who knows where that might have led. That was before Wendy and before Tori had a boyfriend.

Before.

Before seemed so much better than now—if only he could go back in time. He would be exhilarated by the possibility of running into Tori, Hell, running with her. She obviously worked out faithfully. He’d pictured them running around the lake in slow motion, watching her breath puff and plume in the crisp cold. Her skin would pinken from the bite in the air and her nipples would…

Shit.

He slammed the door in a vain attempt to shut out the world, and his own thoughts. It didn’t work.

R
ichard was being
, well, Richard, but even more so—more aloof and more of a dick than usual. His body language didn’t indicate their relationship would be changing, not in a good way that is. It was as if he were distancing himself, but maybe that was just her own paranoia for practically creaming her pants in the plane over
Mr. Tall, Dark, And Do Me
, whose voice was pure foreplay. She’d sat in the back of the plane and pondered how long it would take her to orgasm from just his naked body suspended over hers, caressing her with nothing but his just-long-enough, dark hair.

Yep, it’s not Richard who is changing this, it’s me.
She was no longer satisfied with the way things were, which, if she was being honest with herself, had been the case for some time. She was just loath to entertain the possibility until now. That’s why she put the kibosh on sex and the reason she knew she’d proceed with her family plans. Her life was moving forward, or rather, she was driving it forward—without him.

She didn’t love him anymore, if she ever truly did, and he sure as Hell didn’t love her. It was striking her with such clarity that he positively never had. Even though these realizations had been coming to her for a while, apparently it took spending time with John—who treated her like a lady—and the walking, talking sex-on-a-stick—who didn’t—to be truly objective where Richard was concerned.

Since she’d met Richard, her friends were emphatic he was wrong for her. Melanie and Erika went as far as to stage a mini-intervention of sorts, calling him mentally abusive. Tori had listened to them out of love, but they accepted her decision to be with him because of the same. She respected them both tremendously for speaking out, then dropping it and abiding by her decision.

In hindsight, she wished she’d taken their words to heart, but Torionna Reid had always had a stubborn streak a mile wide. When her besties spoke truths she wasn’t ready to hear, she doubled down on her determination to prove them wrong.
Real mature.
Boy, would she have some crow to eat when she got back home

Walker, her brother, hadn’t handled Richard’s marital status with the same calm—he was not even in the same zip code as calm. He found out Richard was still technically married and went ape shit. Everyone was surprised when Richard didn’t press charges and send Walker back to prison. That’s when Richard came clean about his not-so-ex, swearing they were married in name only for the sake of his daughters. They each led their own lives and carried on as if they were divorced, and for all intents and purposes, they were, except the paperwork. That had been enough for her, until now.
Yeah, right, if that had been the case, why didn’t he cop to it in the beginning instead of waiting until he was busted?
Tori was willfully ignorant where he was concerned.
Was
willfully ignorant, past tense.

Family, complete with backyard bbq’s and beach trips, was what she wanted. She could’ve handled an ex and step-children, but she wanted to move forward with her life, her whole life. Not just business, but personal, too. Back when she’d set the
no sex
stipulation of their relationship, Richard had told her he decided to finally file for divorce, claiming he realized it wouldn’t harm the girls at that point. Since they maintained separate households and accounts, it really was just a piece of paper.

Tori had been so out of touch with reality, she almost rescinded her new clause, until he claimed he didn’t have the money to file yet, but swore that it…them, was priority number one. He promised to scratch and save to make it happen, which he never seemed to do.
Hello? How many clues do I need?

So, needless to say, when she arrived to see that Richard had purchased the expensive Breitling, the exact one she was looking at as a gift—one she knew cost upwards of ten grand—she was livid. As she watched the smooth motion of the watch and Richard droned on and on about it, she saw her relationship withering away. Not the actual relationship, that had withered a long time ago, but the one she’d built up and gilded in her mind.

“You can put a pig in a ball gown, but that don’t make it prom queen.”
Her mom’s voice echoed in her head. Yeah, Francis Reid said ridiculous southern shit like that all the time. It rarely made sense to anyone but her. Tori thought she said half of it just to embarrass her kids and to make her dad, Frank, laugh. Tori hadn’t gotten a single one, that is, until now. Her relationship with Richard was a fucking pig in a prom dress, and she had voted that bitch queen.

T
he guilt
she’d felt over the hunk in the plane melted away. The tension over possibly breaking Richard’s heart and executing their relationship with her baby announcement died. Right there, in the middle of bumfuckingfrozensomewhere, she
finally
saw what everyone else did,
The Dick
. And she was a fool for not seeing it before. He had no intention of marrying her or starting a family. No wonder his marriage failed. When John came back with supplies in a month and a half, she would head back home, free of this relationship. She and her two BFFs would start their business and she’d lock Walker and Erika in a fucking room until they worked their shit out.

Those two belonged together, unlike she and
The Dick;
she could see that now. Letting her gaze drift up from the watch to linger on Richard’s face, an involuntary smile graced hers. She leaned in, brushing his lips with hers—not in a romantic way, but in a gesture of thanks. Tori was honestly grateful for him opening her eyes to the truths that had always been there.

“What was that for? Does the watch turn you on that much, Sweetheart?” He dragged her close and gave her a look that once dropped her panties like lead, but now turned them into a chastity belt. “Why don’t you get on your knees and show me how sexy you think I am?”

It was all she could do not to laugh. That should have pissed her off, but instead, it just drove home her decisions and confirmed so much more than she would openly admit just yet. “Now Darlin’, some fancy bit of bling isn’t going to redefine the physical nature of our association.”
Yep, she channeled a bit of Val’s Doc Holliday.

Tori looked him dead in the eye and told him the truth, if not the meaning. “It was more of a thank you kiss. That was for changing my life in ways I can’t even begin to imagine. And,” she winked as she disengaged and grabbed her bags, “I can guarantee you, by the time I leave this cabin, I will have our relationship exactly where it should be.”

As Tori headed down the hall, toward the stairs, his voice pursued her. “You sure you don’t want to put those in my room? I didn’t invite you out here for a celibate retreat. You know, Hon, no other man would put up with your shit the way I do.” She could tell by the tone of his voice, he thought he was manipulating and shaming her into compliance. If it was a few months ago, he would’ve been right.

Tori was done, she just wouldn’t be sharing that information with Richard until it was time to leave. She may be strong, but not strong enough to withstand him if he knew when she left, it wouldn’t just be Tennessee. He would get too intense for her to handle with her new-found fragile backbone where he was concerned. Plus, he scared her a little.

This is going to be a long forty-five days
, she thought as she unpacked in
her
room.

I
t had been a week
, and
The Dick
still hadn’t given up his quest to lure her back to his bed. He knew the parameters of their relationship, but he was thinking with his little head and wouldn’t give it a freaking rest. He’d been fine with it for what, about seven months or so now, but he thought her legs would spring open because he dared to give her a bit of attention and a vacation? Maybe the more insecure Tori would’ve been happy with the scraps he threw her, but not now.

Now, she knew exactly where she stood with him. This trip wasn’t even for her. He had family business and invited her along hoping to have someone to warm his bed while he was stuck out here. It was so clear now.
Crystal fucking clear
, she thought as she aggressively pulled on her second sports bra so she could run around the lake without giving herself a black eye.

The only time she could get space from Richard—room to breathe and think—was when she did something fitness related. He hated to exhaust himself—sure, he had a great body—but he didn’t work for it. Genetics and minimal gym time worked in his favor,
lucky bastard
. So, she popped in her earbuds, cranked up her “Running With The Hair Bands” playlist and headed out the door. She grabbed her bath bag and dropped it in front of the bathhouse by the other cabin she’d yet to explore, and took off around the lake.

Lost in the juxtaposition of hot sweat verses frigid air on her skin, and in the sounds of
Winger
, she was oblivious to her surroundings when reality intruded harshly into her adrenaline-fueled fantasy world, three quarters of the way around the lake.

M
ichael was in his zone
. He’d taken off every piece of non-essential clothing, and then headed into the woods for a free run. Nothing got his heart racing like a run in extremes, and he wanted to experience the cold on as much skin as was legal. On his way back to the cabin to warm and clean up, he couldn’t stop his mind from dwelling on
her
; nor could he stop replaying what happened the other night. He hated himself for still thinking about
her
because she was partially to blame for what went down with that bitch waitress from town. If she hadn’t awakened that dormant part of him, he would’ve never went looking for a one-night stand, thus, he would’ve never ended up in a skeezy hotel room with that witch.

Yep, her fault.
Better to blame a woman he would never see again than himself. But if he were to be honest, he still hoped to catch a glimpse of her around the lake. Somehow, he knew the sight of her would be a double-edged sword, and maybe he wanted the promise of the pain more than the pleasure of gazing upon her fucking hot form. That was part of the reason he ran in the woods instead on the trail. Just as he kind of wanted to run into her, he kind of didn’t either.

There were only so many cabins she could be at and all of them empty this time of year except for hers apparently. They all shared his family’s bathhouse, if the people she rented from explained that to her. If not, she was somewhere around here taking field baths. No one else bothered to plumb any of these old cabins.

It was a courtesy thing more than a requirement; they shared their state of the art—for the boondocks anyway—bath, and other cabins shared their boats, ATVs, food stores, and whatever else they had. They lived like a small vacation family more than a community. Yet, he’d not seen any sign of her.

What the fuck?
He groaned aloud as he heard .38 Special strike the chord to start
Fantasy Girl
. He ripped his earbuds aggressively from his ears and continued his run with just the sounds of nature to urge him onward. Better than a song that reminded him of
her.

Appreciating the music of the wind singing a mournful tune as it strummed the snow-covered branches, his eyes were taking in the sights. Snow was visible on the scrubs and willows that looped the lake. Birds were busy gathering the last berries of the year from the bushes that were woven along the edges of the woods. He was lost in watching them flitter back and forth across the trail when a movement on the other side of the lake caught his attention—a neon orange flash just visible every so often between the tree breaks.

Michael’s first thought was hunter, but there wasn’t any hunting allowed this close to the lake. There it was again…he picked up his pace thinking he could sprint from the woods and be at that spot in about seven minutes if he pushed it. When he reached the turn leading in—only about ninety seconds from the thick spot the mystery person disappeared into—he noticed the flash of color on the other side of the lake already. It was maybe three quarters of a mile from the previous spot, and it was most certainly not a hunter.

It was
her.

H
oly crap
, is he chasing me?

When she’d first caught a glimpse of her real-life wet dream jogging out of the woods and rounding the lake—with just his goodies covered—she thought she was hallucinating. There was no fucking way Wingman Michael was running around here where she was stuck until John came back with some supplies and her way out. Her emotions were a hot mess and her confusion was cranked up to eleven. Yes, eleven.
Why, because eleven is one more than ten? Even in all my fucking confusion I can’t stop thinking in movie quotes, what the fuckity fuck is wrong with me?

Joking in her own head couldn’t erase the truth of what was running around the other side of the lake,
Hotty McFuckmeplease is here.
Tori wasn’t going to let that get to her though, at least that’s what she kept telling herself. Her plate was overflowing already without adding another serving of man trouble to it. She needed to straighten out everything with Richard, her business, and her desire to start a family before heaping on anything else, no matter how delicious-looking it was.

With that, she kicked into her finishing pace, fast forwarded to “
Don’t Stop Running,
” and forgot all about the man she wanted to be on her knees in front of, and just ran—ran out her sexual frustration, ran out her burning desire for a baby, ran out her wasted years with
The Dick,
ran out every fucking thing weighing on her.

She sweat it out through her pores and continued running for the Zen of it all. Finally, she arrived at the bathhouse that Richard told her about—not out of the goodness of his heart mind you, but because he didn’t want her coming back all sweaty and relaxing on any of his precious furniture before bathing in their microscopic shower again.

The other cabin was apparently where his brother was staying. Yet another thing she knew nothing about until right before this trip. He had a fucking brother and she didn’t have a clue. But according to Richard, the
half
-brother wouldn’t bother them; they didn’t get along. Richard blamed it on his “asshole” younger brother, but she wondered if it wasn’t the other way around. Richard had alluded to a secret he was chomping at the bit to spill, but couldn’t. At the time, he didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t ask. She was too blown away by the fact he even had a brother to care about the details.

Either way, she wasn’t going to let Richard, his brother, or the gorgeous man less than a mile from her, bring her down from her runner’s high. After grabbing her pack as she bound onto the porch, she entered the bathhouse for a long, hot soak.

M
ichael lost
sight of her as she rounded the edge of the lake closest to his family’s cabins. The cabins around the bend from the one he was staying in belonged to the Simpkins and the Larsons. In all the years they’d been coming here, he’d never known the widow Larson to rent her cabin, so she must be staying up at the Simpkins’ place. That was a nice cabin. He’d been meaning to pop over and grab their snowmobile and take it out for a ride before the snow got too deep for his skill level. Now, he had a bit of extra motivation to do so, or not, depending on how he looked at it.

Slowing his pace, he used the time to think about
her
, while the air kept his body from reacting. That pissed him off, that he needed an outside influence to keep his dick from going rock hard and seeking her out like a divining rod. Besides, she had a boyfriend back at the Simpkins’ place, John saw him.

Lies, lies, lies.
That’s what he was telling himself. Lies about why he wanted to see her seemed to be the only way to manage his anger and conflict over what’d happened. The only way he could accept it. He had to blame her, he just
had
to. If he didn’t, he’d have to accept the fact that he was sexually assaulted instead of just made a mistake, because of
her
. He was losing his shit. Why did she have to be so fucking perfect, so fucking…fuckable?

If she’d had only been a plain-faced thirty-something, he would have never been in that position.
Oh yeah, asshole, you’d be so much better off with a dick that didn’t work and depression that no amount of alcohol or roaring crowds could fix.

What a confused fucking gnarly mess he was. He should be thanking her instead of cursing her, but he just couldn’t. Fuck if he didn’t want to though. Thank her, whisk her away from the asshole she was mixed up with and show her how a woman like her should be treated. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he knew if he got her into his bed, there would definitely be encores. There was just something about his dream jockey that made him want to knock her up and watch his baby grow in that gorgeous body of hers. Then, move them into his place and keep her barefoot and pregnant for as long as she’d let him.

Where the fuck did that come from? No fucking way, he was in no way, shape or form, ready to settle down. And babies? No thanks.

But as he pushed the thought away, a piece of him knew it was somewhat true. She’d triggered something in him—that dormant part in men that turns them into family guys when they come into contact with the
one
.

Michal didn’t want a
one
, nor did he want her to be it, instead, he wanted to hurt her—for what she’d done, and what she didn’t do. That was the truly fucked up part, he knew he’d end up hurting her and she’d end up healing him if they ever got together. There was nothing he could do about it but let it play out the way the universe seemed to want.