Secret Vow (9 page)

She shrugged, her eyes downcast. “It’s pretty easy. I’m not feeling very good about myself these days.”

Ian thought he understood what she meant; having left her job and the city she’d grown accustomed to, with no plan for the future, she felt directionless. “Listen, Brooke. I apologize for coming on so strong the other day. I had no right to judge you. I know you’re feeling lost right now. It doesn’t help to have me making demands and adding to the stress you’re already dealing with.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. I’ve been sending plenty of mixed signals. The truth is, I can’t get you off my mind. I just … I just don’t want either of us to get hurt.”

As he absorbed her words—the admission of her desire for him—the anguish in her voice seeped through his chest. He knew she was right; it would hurt him terribly to have to let her go. Still, the agony of knowing she was close by yet out of his reach would be far worse.

“I want to be with you, Brooke, even if it’s only for a little while.” He smoothed the backs of his fingers along her arm, tracing the goose bumps stippling her skin. “If you end up going back to the city, we’ll deal with it. But as long as you’re here, don’t shut me out.”

A smile touched her lips. In the gathering dark her face had become a shadowy outline, but her eyes glittered, and he saw a shift within their soft, luminous depths—a release of her misgivings; a surrender to the longing she’d been suppressing. Taking him by surprise, she pressed her mouth gently to his.

“I want to be with you, too,” she said as she drew back, her warm breath grazing his cheek.

Taking her hand, Ian pressed his lips to her palm and then each of her slender fingers, one by one. Seeking her mouth again, he kissed her deeply, wrapping his arms about her waist to urge her closer.

Sliding her palms over his shoulders, she parted her lips to savour each slow, sensual stroke of his lips and tongue. Liquid heat gathered fast in his groin; he’d so missed holding her like this—craved the taste and feel of her—that it would be easy to lose himself in his desire for her.

“It’ll to be the hardest challenge of my life not to lose my heart to you,” he told her between kisses. Smoothing his hand down her back, he let his fingers drift over her hip to slip under the hem of her blouse. As his fingertips grazed the warm flesh of her belly, he felt her quiver under his touch.

“It’s yours already,” Brooke replied, her voice barely a whisper. Taking hold of his wrist, she nudged his hand upward; he obliged readily, shifting her bra out of the way to fill his hand with one supple breast. As he rasped a thumb over the firm tip he heard her gasp, and felt her grip on his shoulders tighten. His continued slow caresses elicited soft moans of pleasure that stoked the fire rising within him. She leaned back and he bent his head to skim his lips down the slope of her chest, feeling the flutter of her heartbeat, quick and strong.

They tumbled together onto the blanket, the woolen fabric tangling about them. Her body rigid as she yearned against him, Brooke kissed him ardently, her breathing fast and ragged. Ian heard a groan escape his own throat, her desire for him further stirring the excitement surging within him.

Rolling on top of him, she promptly unfastened the top few buttons of his shirt and pressed her mouth to his chest. The blackness around them amplified the sense of touch, and as her lips and tongue, hot and slick, glided over muscle and bone his body ached with agonizing need.

Shifting Brooke onto her back on the blanket, he bent to kiss and stroke her belly in reciprocation, before moving upward to skim his mouth along the slope of her breast. As his tongue teased the tip, he heard her whimper, and felt her hands tremble as she clutched at his shirt, overcome with the same urgent need that gripped him.

The sharp
boom-boom
of the first rockets flaring above made them both jump. Looking up, they caught sight of several bright flares of colour, bursting in quick succession, followed by vibrant pinwheels and sparkles, sizzling and popping one after the other, dazzling against the black sky.

“I’d almost forgotten about the fireworks,” Brooke remarked quietly, surprise and awe lacing her voice.

Rising onto one elbow, Ian gazed down at her, lying still on her back with her dark hair fanned over the blanket. For a long moment he watched in wonder, as the glittering display above reflected in her eyes, and set aglow the supple pale skin of her belly and arms—and the one round, perfect breast that was exposed.

“What are you looking at?” she asked, catching his gaze on her.

“The most beautiful sight I’ve ever set eyes on,” he replied, and her soft mouth curved into a slow smile. He gathered her to him, swiftly covering her mouth with his.

As she clung to him, fitting her curves against him, every nerve in his body throbbed with a hunger to slip within her, where he’d feel her heartbeat gather speed in rhythm with his own, and let her shudders of pleasure ripple through his skin.

Heeding his impulse, Ian hooked his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and deftly popped the snap, then slid his hands beneath her, taking hold of the back pockets to tug at the garment. Brooke didn’t protest at first, allowing him to slide the shorts mid-way down her thighs—until a burst of voices and laughter pierced the air nearby, and she stiffened. After yanking her blouse down to cover herself, she grasped his hands and pushed them away.

“Not now, Ian. Not here,” she whispered, her voice breathless.

He groaned in frustration. “My house is only a short walk away,” he pointed out.

Releasing his hands, Brooke wound her arms over his shoulders, kissing him briefly. “That sounds so tempting, but … not tonight. I’m sorry. I just can’t right now.”

Shifting onto her knees, she yanked her shorts back up and fastened the snap. With a sigh of resignation, Ian sat up, settling next to her on the blanket.

“It’s all right,” he said, buttoning his shirt with fingers that felt oddly numb.

Brooke curled into his arms and he held her close, his veins pulsing with unsatisfied need. Together they sat in silence, their breathing gradually slowing, as the fireworks above continued to sizzle and flare.

Chapter Six

After placing the two ripe tomatoes and basket of blueberries she’d selected into her bag, Brooke handed a crumpled bill to the young woman running the produce stand. Brooke didn’t know her; twelve years ago it had been Stella Preston who operated the popular stand at the edge of Main Street, but since then she’d retired to Florida. A lot of things in Eastport had changed since Brooke had been away—as much as she’d expected them to stay just as she remembered them.

“Enjoy,” the young woman said, dropping Brooke’s change into her palm. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Certainly is.” Brooke smiled up at the cloudless azure sky, pleased that the weather was cooperating so nicely with her plan for the afternoon.

“Those look nice,” remarked a familiar voice beside her; she turned to find Faith standing next to her, eyeing the plump berries on display. She offered Brooke a genial smile, though their gazes met for only a brief, awkward moment.

“Morning, Faith. I haven’t seen you around much lately.” Brooke was glad to see her old friend again, after several weeks without contact, but at the same time it caused an unpleasant twinge in her belly—a blending of apprehension and regret.

Quickly selecting a basket of green beans, Faith reached into her purse for her wallet. “I’ve been pretty busy helping Ted with his campaign,” she said mildly. “Not to mention helping him run our business, and getting my dad’s house ready for sale. But then I guess you’ve been spending most of your time with Ian.”

Brooke glanced down at the bulging canvas bag hanging from her elbow; she’d just come from Roderick’s, where she’d picked up fresh slices of ham and Swiss cheese. Adding the homemade bread she’d made last night, and the dessert she’d baked this morning, she had all the necessary ingredients for a picnic lunch to share with Ian.

“I know you don’t approve—”

“It’s all right, Brooke. You made me a promise, and I trust you. I’m happy for you, really.” Faith demonstrated the fact by broadening her smile. “But I guess it’s got to end sooner or later. When you leave town, I mean.”

Brooke nodded vaguely; it wasn’t the right time or place to tell Faith that she intended to break that promise, quite possibly today. As much as she dreaded telling Ian the truth, she knew it would relieve her of the guilt that continued to haunt her. Over the past few weeks she’d managed to tuck away her secret and enjoy her time with him, but it was becoming more difficult. The more he spoke of memories of his mother, the more Mary McCarthy became a living, breathing woman to Brooke—far removed from the pair of twisted feet in white socks she’d seen by the side of the road. Ian deserved to know what happened to her. Brooke knew that revealing what she knew might mean losing him, but she hoped he’d find it in his heart to forgive her.

She had no choice but to cling to that hope, now that she’d let herself fall head over heels in love with him.

“Will you be around for the election, at least?” Faith wondered, tucking her beans into a plastic bag.

“I imagine so. It’s only a couple of weeks away.”

Turning together, they began walking side by side along the shoulder of the road, falling in step as they always had during their long walks growing up.

“So what are your plans?” Faith asked. “Have you been job hunting?”

“A bit. Not much, really. I haven’t quite decided what I want to do.” In fact Brooke’s stomach twisted into knots whenever she thought about it; her parents had given up asking her the same questions.

Faith stared ahead with a knitted brow, the vague answers clearly frustrating her. “You’ve been here nearly two months. Haven’t you made any decisions?”

“I’ve just been enjoying my summer. Keeping my options open.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Faith conceded, then added sourly, “Maybe you’ll get a chance to see my brother.”

Brooke looked at her in surprise. “Andrew’s coming to town?”

Her old friend nodded, rolling her eyes upward. “He called me this morning to tell me he’s paying us a visit. It came as quite a surprise, considering he was ‘too busy’ to stay for the reception after our father’s funeral. I suppose he wants to settle his part of the inheritance.”

Brooke had seen Andrew at the service, but hadn’t spoken to him. “Does he still have that sporting goods business in Vancouver?”

Faith nodded again. “He’s my little brother, and I love him, but he’s getting more and more like Dad all the time, and I’m not looking forward to having him in my house. But you’ll be more likely to run into him outside the liquor store or at Dexy’s bar. He’ll be spending the majority of his time at those two places.”

“Are you sure he’s still drinking like he used to?” Brooke well remembered Andrew’s rebellious streak as a teenager. A quiet, sweet boy in his younger years, he took to partying and skipping classes once he entered high school. Brooke hadn’t expected him to graduate, much less start his own company and make a success of it.

“I’ve been in touch with his wife,” Faith said. “She’s this close to leaving him. Well, maybe that’s just the wake-up call he needs.”

They stopped at the corner of Main Street and Kings Road—the same spot where they’d habitually parted as girls, when it came time to head home. Faith still lived on the street she’d grown up on, only a few doors down from her father’s house. As the women faced each other, Brooke could still envision her teenaged best friend standing there, sharing a private joke and tossing her unruly red mane as her laugher rang through the warm summer air.

Brooke felt her throat tighten with emotion. Along with her career, she’d always wanted what Faith now had—a family of her own to care for—and had expected to share those chapters of their lives as constant friends. The awful secret kept between them had derailed those hopes.

“You and Ted should come over for dinner sometime soon, all right?” she suggested.

Faith smiled softly. “That’d be nice.”

“I have a little gift to give Brandon,” Brooke remembered. She’d seen the wooden crocodile pull-toy in one of the boutiques in town and couldn’t resist it.

“I’m sure he’ll love it.” Faith took a step away, then turned back. “I hope you’ll come to the party we’re hosting election night—win or lose. Bring Ian, if you like.”

“Yes, of course.” Brooke felt the knot in her stomach ease a little. “I’ll see you then.”

* * *

Ian opened his office door looking elegant in a dark suit and tie, his mouth tilting into a smile of surprise and pleasure when he saw Brooke in the doorway.

“To what do I owe this unexpected visit?” he asked, his gaze settling warmly on her.

Brooke returned his smile, her heart rising as she marveled that this gorgeous, amazing man was hers. She held up her wicker picnic basket to show him. “I made us lunch. Have you got time?”

Ian glanced at his watch. “Yeah, I’ve got about an hour. This was so thoughtful.” Grasping her hand, he drew her inside, taking the basket from her and setting it on the carpet. Enveloping her in his arms, he claimed her mouth with a languid kiss; sensation sparkled through her, all the way to her toes and fingertips—his kisses always sparked her senses to life, making her thoughts scatter hopelessly at the same time.