Eternal Brand (4 page)

Jet shook his head and a laughed ruefully. It was crazy. He'd met Emily approximately twelve hours ago. Where the instinct to protect her came from, he had no idea. Perhaps he was projecting his own pain onto the situation. Brand had hurt him with his distance and abandonment, so he saw impending disaster in Emily's life where there wasn't any. Perhaps Brand had changed. Emily seemed genuinely happy.

But the secrets, the lies. Eventually they'll come out and hurt her. Or Brand will take off without a word and leave her wondering for the rest of her life why she wasn't enough to make him stay.

Jet was asking himself, again, why Emily's potential heartbreak was his problem when the sound of an engine approaching abraded the serenity of the night air. The rain had finally stopped about an hour ago, leaving only the gentle plopping sound as water from the overflowing gutters landed in the puddles on the ground. There was no mistaking the thrum of an older-model four-wheel drive, or the squelch of tires tracking through mud and grass. The vehicle came to a stop beside the house, right outside Jet's open window.

His blood pounded through his veins. He held his breath as the car door opened. Heavy footfalls landed on the grass, then on the steps leading up to the front porch. The dogs let out a happy whine as their master stopped and gave them a pat. Then, with a creak of the door, he was inside.

Brand was home.

Too late to make an escape now. He should have left hours ago, but he was still here, and soon Brand was going to know it. Jet figured he ought to get the confrontation over with, to step out into the darkened living room and say G'day. But he froze where he lay, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his chest, his pulse refusing to calm down no matter how much slow, deep breathing Jet did.

He was in Brandon Walker's orbit again, and he was a fucking mess because of it.

Just like old times.

Chapter Four

Brand tried not to wake Emily as he took off his clothes and slipped into bed. He should have washed up first, but he was wrung out. Nineteen hours in the rain, building barricades along the riverbank, trying to stop the rising water from seeping into people's homes. They'd saved a lot of houses, but not all. Sandbags could only do so much.

Fucking sandbags. It was stupid that in all that rain and cold, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and doesn't let go, the sandbags had reminded him of Afghanistan. He'd thought when he left the army, he'd never have to see another sandbag in his life, but that didn't turn out to be the case. He'd fought the flashbacks all day, kept thinking he was back in the desert with bullets whizzing past his head and fellow soldiers dying beside him. He'd worked through them, refusing to let the weakness in his mind control him physically. He'd told himself a thousand times he was safe now, that everyone else was safe from him.

No more war. No more death.

A shudder passed through him, the remnants of his unwanted memories, and he forgot all about not waking Emily. He reached for her and pulled her close. She was so warm and soft, her body as fluid as water as she curved her back to his front with a sigh. The cold that had settled in his bones started to thaw, heat replacing it as she tilted her head.

Brand took the kiss she offered, feeling the warmth infuse him, letting it chase away the demons that dogged him. Emily moaned and thrust her lush backside into his crotch. His cock came to life, his emotional needs manifesting in a physical desire so strong and swift it was all Brand could do not to thrust into her without preamble or care.

Slow, slow, slow.
His breaths grew ragged as he restrained himself. Emily was so giving that it was difficult sometimes not to take without offering something in return. Brand lifted the long T-shirt she wore to bed and slipped his hand between her legs. She had no underwear on, nothing to keep him from the slick juices coating her swollen flesh. Brand groaned, his control hanging by a thread when he realized how wet she was.

The thread snapped when Emily parted her thighs and said, “Now.
Now.
”

“Emily,” Brand rasped and positioned his erection at the entrance to her pussy. He found her clit and rubbed it as he drove into her hot sheath in one brusque plunge.

Emily gasped, and Brand froze.
Too rough. Damn it.
“Sorry, Em.”

“No. No, it's good. Don't stop.”

Brand let out the breath he'd been holding. Despite her words, he forced his movements to slow as he began to pump into her. She often told him to go for it, that he could go harder, deeper, faster than he usually did, but Brand schooled himself to hold back every time. She didn't know how hard he was all the way through, how rough he could really be. He was…dangerous. He never wanted Emily to see that, to look at him with fear in her eyes.

So he kept to his measured rhythm, stroking Emily's clit until she strained against him, her body a tense curve as she came. Her inner muscles gripped him, fluttering with her orgasm. His balls throbbed as he rocked into her, as roughly as he would allow himself to. Moments later he reached a bone-melting climax that tore a groan from his throat and banished every bad memory, every fear, from his mind.

Breathing heavily, Brand dropped his head into the soft pillow. He left an arm draped around Emily, used it to hold her close. He remained inside her warmth until she shifted, indicating she needed to use the bathroom.

Reluctantly, Brand let her slip out of bed. Before she left the room she leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Welcome back,” she said, a smile in her voice.

Brand smiled too, a fairly uncommon occurrence for him, as he listened to Emily tiptoe across the hall. Who she thought she had to sneak around for, he had no idea. Knowing Emily, she was concerned about waking the dogs. Emily cared about everyone, human or animal. She put others' needs before her own without a thought. She was warm and kind, funny and sweet. In a word, she was loveable.

That's why you can't help but love her, Brand. That's why you're still here.

He hadn't meant to stay, not two years.
Two bloody years.
He could understand why he hadn't left. Emily was impossible to leave. What Brand didn't get was why Emily hadn't kicked him out yet.

It's that generosity of hers.
But generous or not, there was only so much of a taciturn, insensitive, rough bastard such as himself that a sweetheart like Emily should put up with. Even if she did love him. Especially since he couldn't seem to say he loved her back.

Nights like tonight, when she'd been here ready, willing and able to chase all his emotional monsters away, not saying those words lodged painfully in his chest like a bubble. But telling her he loved her would only make her more committed to him, while it wouldn't necessarily stop him treating her like crap. He knew that from past experience. From the one other person he'd loved and let down.

Emily slunk back into the room, shutting the door behind her before crawling back into bed. Like a coward, Brand closed his eyes, pretending his thoughts weren't keeping him awake, that his previously empty mind wasn't filled with concerns about all he wasn't telling her, all he couldn't give her. When she snuggled into him, he held her, breathed in the strawberry scent of her shampoo and took the comfort she so readily offered.

“I have a surprise for you,” she whispered sleepily.

He couldn't resist a reply. “I'm pretty happy with the one I just got.”

Brand felt her lips curve against his throat. “It's a good one. You'll see tomorrow. Or rather, today.”

“Tease.”

“I like teasing you,” she said. “Now go to sleep. You must be exhausted.”

Brand murmured an agreement and pulled her into his side. She nestled beside him, her head on his shoulder. Once again Emily's soothing presence worked its magic, and in spite of his emotional turmoil, Brand drifted off to sleep.

He woke again, heart galloping, when the light of midmorning poured into the bedroom. He took a moment to orient himself, remind himself where he was. Emily's house, Emily's bed. Not in the desert. Not back in his father's dingy apartment, not walking into his mother's bedroom and finding…

Brand closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Emily's sheets. They smelled like her, and the short, intense lovemaking they'd had in the wee hours. They smelled like comfort and safety. He inhaled deep, exhaled slowly. Did it again until his panic subsided and the dizziness left him. Bit by bit, other things about his surroundings penetrated his consciousness.

The chirp of birds in the trees, delighted at the return of the sun after several days of rain. The jingle of Gus's collar as he toured the perimeter of the house, looking for mice to chase. The aroma of brewing coffee and something delicious baking in the oven. The sound of soft laughter coming from the kitchen. Emily's and someone else's.

Brand's brow furrowed when he realized it was a
male
someone else. Unlikely it was Jim from the neighboring property. He was friendly as far as neighbors went, but he never stopped in for coffee. A potential customer? Something told him no. There was a familiarity, almost an intimacy, about the low murmurs and Emily's answering giggles that had the hairs on the back of Brand's neck rising.

Fully awake now, Brand swung out of bed and pulled on fresh jeans and a T-shirt. The rapid pump of his blood kept him warm against the morning chill as he stepped out of the bedroom.

His gut clenched when he saw Emily with her head close to another man's, her honey-blonde ponytail contrasting with his sweep of silky dark hair. They sat at the kitchen table, gripping mugs of steaming coffee in their hands. The man's back was to Brand, but something about the way the stranger held himself, the self-possession in the set of his shoulders, nagged at Brand's memory. He couldn't make sense of that, though, not with jealousy punching him in the gut like a fist.

He'd never been jealous over Emily before. She'd never given him cause to be. Not a lot of people came out this way, and eligible men of Emily's age were rare visitors. When the two of them did have occasion to go out, Emily held his hand like she wanted everyone to know she was his. She looked at him like he was the only man she saw.

Right now she was staring at the man across from her in just that way, and it made Brand's blood run cold.

He stepped farther into the room, intentionally making enough noise that Emily glanced his way. Her eyes lit up when they landed on him, and some of the tension in Brand's stomach unraveled. “You're up,” she said with that smile that could light a city full of buildings. “We didn't wake you, did we?”

The “we” caused Brand's stomach to knot again. Even though he trusted Emily not to do anything untoward, he couldn't help the way he searched her face, looking for signs of…what? Guilt. Shame. Any kind of awareness that she'd been sitting a little too close to the man at the table, that she'd been laughing with him in a way that bordered on flirty.

There were none of those emotions, and Brand was the one who ended up feeling ashamed. Emily was merely being Emily. She was open and friendly with everyone. She wasn't flirting with some other guy, and Brand didn't have much right to demand she didn't, anyway. He'd never even told her he loved her.

He'd never told her, but that didn't mean he didn't. The feelings rioted inside him, clamoring to be let out. Now, of all times, when they had company, Brand wanted to tell Emily he loved her more than he ever had.

Possessiveness. A primal sensation he'd rarely felt. Probably because he'd never had a girl before, not long term. She was a
girlfriend
, and he was still getting used to that. Still trying to work out how he was supposed to act a lot of the time.

No doubt about it, he was a complete, fucked-up mess. His voice scratched against his throat like sandpaper. “It's fine. Time I got up.”

“You needed sleep, sweetie. But as it happens, I'm glad you're awake. Say hello to the surprise I told you about.”

She gestured to the man across from her, the man now rising to his feet. From his peripheral vision, Brand noticed the way he moved, slow and loose-limbed, every lean muscle locking into place with a sensual grace that was particular to only one man he'd ever met. He knew,
knew,
who was standing there, and at the same time couldn't quite believe it, struggled to look and confirm the truth.

Brand's throat went parchment dry as he forced himself to turn and meet the man's gaze. The effect of those dark brown eyes resting on him slammed into Brand's chest like a sledgehammer. His mind became little more than a dizzying vortex of confused emotions, and a name chanted over and over, a chant that beat inside him like an extra pulse.

Jet. Jet. Jet.

Jet Durante. A part of Brand's past, a past he'd tried to forget. A past he'd wanted to obliterate from his mind the day he came here and found Emily. He'd never wanted anything from that former life to touch what he'd managed to cobble together in the present. Peace. Safety. A measure of happiness—as much as he could ever hope to have.

But Jet Durante was here, and by his mere presence he'd blown all that Brand had tentatively built straight to hell.

Chapter Five

“Brand. It's been a long time.”

Before Brand could respond or evade the contact, Jet stepped forward and pulled Brand into his arms. He slapped Brand on the back, all manly-like, only clinging a beat longer than a platonic mate might have. It was enough to make the old, familiar heat travel through Brand's body.

He pulled back, the withdrawal made awkward by his haste. Brand was all too aware of Emily standing mere feet away. Did she notice his reaction? He wasn't game to glance at her and find out.

He stared at Jet, feeling the tension of holding himself back grip his shoulders. Whether he was holding back from punching Jet in the face or kissing him, Brand wasn't sure. Jet. Bloody Jet had always caused turmoil to every one of Brand's internal organs.

He had to swallow before he could speak. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm taking some shots of the area.
Geographic
wants a series on the majesty of the east coast and how erosion is impacting the land, that sort of thing. Mum told me you were in the area, so I looked you up.”

Carla Durante, Brand's one-time foster mother. Jet's parents, especially Carla, worried about him. Knowing that, Brand had always felt obligated to leave emergency-contact details with her. The few good memories from his adolescence were due to Carla Durante.

And Jet.

Brand clenched his jaw until a muscle in his face ticked. “Thought you were in Africa.”

“Old news. You need to call Mum more often if you want the latest.”

As far as Brand was concerned, he'd already been in contact with the Durantes more than he should be. His thoughtfulness in leaving his whereabouts had brought Jet back into his life, when that was the last thing he needed. Now, there was Emily, and Brand had to protect her from his past.

He forced himself to look at her. She was staring at him and Jet, a furrow between her brows.
She's noticed something.
Brand's pulse spiked, along with a sense of guilt he'd buried so deep he'd considered it nonexistent. He hadn't told her about Jet. He'd justified it by telling himself he hadn't asked about Emily's past loves. He didn't want to know numbers or names, so why would Emily? If she'd ever asked anything, Brand had simply said he'd never met anyone like her, that there was no place he'd rather be than with her.

It was all true. He'd never lied to her. But when Emily looked at him with confusion marring her pretty face, Brand had to acknowledge what a big lie it was to keep his bisexuality a secret.

“It smells done.” Both Brand and Emily looked at Jet. He nodded his head toward the kitchen and tilted his lips at Emily. “The banana bread smells done.”

“Oh! You're right.” She flashed Jet a smile. “Thank you, apprentice.”

Jet gave a mock bow. “You're welcome, chef.”

Emily hurried into the kitchen. A moment later Brand heard the sound of the oven door creaking as it opened, of a metal tray being placed on the sink. All the while his gaze burned into Jet's. Jet stared back, not even breaking eye contact when he picked up his coffee mug and sipped from it.

“Maybe a tad overdone, but it's good,” Emily said as she came back into the dining area. Brand tore his gaze away from Jet to offer her a half smile. Her glance passed between him and their visitor, that furrow returning to her brow. She took a breath, brightening forcibly. “I have to go out back and check Pony. His owners are coming to pick him up around noon. Will you boys be all right without me for a while?”

“Sure.”

Jet answered for the both of them, making that muscle tic in Brand's neck. He didn't want to be alone with Jet—being alone with the man had always been dangerous. But he couldn't speak freely in front of Emily, so Brand said nothing as she walked over and kissed him on the cheek.

Brand gripped her forearm, stopping her before she could leave. He cupped her jaw and pulled her in for a proper kiss. Her mouth was warm and mobile, her fingers light where they rested on his chest. Long seconds passed before Brand sensed her reluctance, her recollection that they weren't alone.

When he released her, Emily smiled ruefully at him, her cheeks flushed. “I'm only going out the back, Brand. See you both in a bit.”

A moment later she was gone, the sound of the screen door banging behind her. Its hinges were squeaking again. Brand put oiling them on his mental to-do list.

“That was hardly necessary.”

Brand returned his attention to the man standing in front of him. “What?”

“The kiss. I'm well aware you're playing the good boyfriend now.” Jet raised a dark brow. “I heard enough last night to get the picture.”

Memories of returning home in the early hours came back. Reaching for Emily, her ragged moans of
now, now
. The thought that Jet had lain awake, hearing all that, caused heat to rush along Brand's skin. “You stayed here last night?”

“Uh-huh. Came yesterday afternoon looking for you. I twisted my ankle, then the weather got nasty.” Jet shrugged. “Emily insisted. Said it was what you would want. But I guess from your demeanor she was wrong.”

“I don't know what you want me to say, Jet. You show up here without warning—”

“You tend to disappear without warning,” Jet interrupted. “So why not?”

“This again,” Brand muttered. “You knew I was leaving, Jet. Both times. It's the army—they run to a pretty rigid schedule.”

“Sure, say it was the army. You had to go off and fight for your country and that was more important than anything else. It doesn't change the fact you left in the dead of night without saying goodbye.”

“I thought it was easier that way.”

“For me or for you?”

Brand's gaze tracked over Jet's face, lingering on those sinfully full lips, the arc of his throat. A white T-shirt molded to his sinuous muscles, clinging in tantalizing places. Brand's body tightened. Leaving Jet the first time had been hard enough. Saying goodbye four years ago after that night together would have been the hardest thing he'd ever done. “For everyone. Long distance wouldn't have worked, you know that.”

“I know that's what you said.” A challenge glimmered in Jet's eye. “I figured the truth was you didn't want to be out in the defense forces. Am I right?”

Brand emitted a sound of disgust and turned away, walking a few paces until he was in the living room. He ran a hand over his crew cut, a style he kept because he'd gotten used to it and it was easy to take care of. Over the last decade, the army had become a part of him. His instinct to defend it was strong, but he owed Jet a more honest truth. “If you're asking me if it's easier to be straight than bisexual or gay in the armed forces, it is. But that wasn't the reason.”

No, the reason he'd had to leave Jet was something else entirely. Jet had a way of looking at him with his love unhidden, his hopes and dreams on display. There were expectations there that Brand knew he couldn't fulfill, and he hadn't been able to stand the thought of one day looking into Jet's eyes to see the hope had gone and all that was left was disappointment.

The kind of disappointment that was in the man's voice now as he came to stand close, too close. “You've never had any trouble passing as straight, Brand. Is that what you're doing with Emily?”

Brand tensed and shot Jet an acid look. His face was mere inches away, and his nearness made Brand as tetchy as the accusatory words. “You don't know anything about me and Emily.”

“I know you haven't told her anything. Not about me or…anything else.”

The hot tingle of shame crept up Brand's neck. He'd always told himself it didn't matter that Emily didn't know about his past, that it didn't change how he felt about her now. But deep down he knew Emily deserved better. And maybe he'd thought if she knew the truth about him, she'd finally kick him out.

Selfishly, he'd chosen silence so she'd let him stay.

“It's not fair to her, Brand.”

“I know that,” Brand shot back. Jet might be right but that didn't mean Brand had to thank him for pointing out his failings. “I don't get why you think it's your business all of a sudden.”

Jet lifted a shoulder. “I like her.”

Brand narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, you like her?”

“I mean, after spending all afternoon and evening with her, I see the appeal.”

Jet brushed past Brand, his chest grazing Brand's biceps. The muscle quivered in response. Brand's reaction to the contact was as disturbing as Jet's next words.

“We get along very well, Emily and I.” Jet plonked himself down on one of the floral-patterned sofas and propped his bare feet on the coffee table. His lips formed an evil curve. “Didn't you wonder why she was already horny when you came home this morning?”

Talk about poking a wild bear. Sweat broke out on Jet's brow as Brand's expression set in forbidding lines. His gray eyes turned from stormy to ice-cold, and the scar on his forehead, normally faint from age, stood out like an angry gash.

He'd always had an immature habit of needling Brand. When they were teenagers, Jet figured Brand would one day punch him in the mouth for the smartass comments that came out of it. But the first time they'd had a huge fight, when Jet was seventeen, they'd kissed instead. Jet had quickly learned that anger tended to unleash Brand's passion, so the habit of needling persisted. He'd always enjoyed the way their arguments had ended up.

Now he saw that in using Emily to provoke a reaction from Brand, he'd gone too far. Brand looked fit to actually punch him this time, and a realization settled in the pit of his stomach like a heavy, cold stone.
He really loves her.

“Relax, Brand. I'm kidding,” Jet said, his voice flat. What Brand and Emily had was no passing thing. Brand loved her. He'd moved on and left Jet behind. Again.

“If you touched her…”

“I didn't. She only has eyes for you anyway.” Jet decided against telling Brand about the few sizzling exchanges that he and Emily had shared.

Brand released a breath slowly, calming himself. Then he took a seat on the sofa opposite Jet, sitting on the edge with his hands linked between his splayed knees. Jet took the moment to survey his appearance, take note of what had changed in the last four years. Not much. The same military haircut, the same quiet composure. Brand's shoulders had always been broad and impressive, but a few years ago he'd been so lean and combat-honed it was almost inhuman. He'd put on some bulk around the torso, probably due to Emily's great cooking. It looked right on Brand.

Obviously, Emily was good for him.

“You didn't tell her about us,” Brand noted softly.

“I said we were old friends.”

“It's not personal, me not talking about you.”

“You mean it's not like you cut me out of your life so completely I don't even rate a mention?” He sounded bitter even to his own ears.

“Jet.” Brand caught him with that steady gray gaze. “After I got out of the army, I needed a fresh start. Em made me believe I could have it. She doesn't insist on knowing everything about me and it works for us.”

“It works for you,” Jet corrected. “You're taking advantage of her guileless nature. She doesn't ask you questions because she trusts you to tell her if there's anything important she needs to know. You're using her.”

“No,” Brand protested, his jaw growing taut. His voice turned husky. “I…I love her.”

Although Jet had already figured as much, having it confirmed was like a fresh wound to the chest. Especially as Brand had never said those words to Jet. Jet swallowed past the painful lump in his throat. “Have you told her that?”

Brand stared at Jet, saying nothing. It was as clear an answer as he could give, and Jet's fury began to mount. He was doing to Emily exactly what he'd done to Jet—keeping his own counsel in a relationship that should have included at least a modicum of sharing. “She's going to get hurt, and you know it.”

Abruptly, Brand rose from his seated position. “Why did you come here, Jet?”

“Curiosity.” The lie rolled easily off Jet's tongue. He was hardly going to admit that he'd come here in the hopes of reconnecting. The idea was laughable. Brand never let anyone connect with him in the first place. “I wanted to see you. Find out if you'd changed.”

“And what's the verdict?”

Jet stood. They faced each other across the coffee table, Brand with his thick arms folded across his chest, Jet with his hands slipped in the back pockets of his jeans, affecting a casual air he didn't feel. “You haven't changed a bit. You're still the same scared eighteen-year-old whose response to me saying ‘I love you' was to join the fucking army and disappear.”

“I'm not the same.” There was a quiet vehemence to Brand's words. “I'm never going back to the army.”

“There are a hundred ways to leave a person, Brand. I'm sure you'll find a new one.”

Jet turned and walked away, but Brand caught up with him at the door. He grabbed Jet's arm and swung him around. His gray eyes flashed like quicksilver. “I'm not going to hurt Emily. I don't want to leave this place, or her. I won't unless she asks me to.”

“An equivocal declaration if ever I've heard one,” Jet remarked. “You won't leave unless she asks you to, but you won't tell her anything that might prompt her to want you gone.”

“What do you want from me? You want me to make promises to you about how I'll conduct my relationship with Emily? It's none of your damn business, Jet.”

“Maybe not. But I see myself in her.” Jet swallowed, his pulse pounding in his throat because Brand was standing so close, his hand wrapped around his arm. That touch alone was enough to ignite Jet's flesh. Was he ever going to be free of this man? “I see myself in how faithfully she loves you.”