She walked along the path to her cabin. Tanner was always with her, chasing away any threat the wide-open spaces and thick black of night might offer. But now, without him at her side, she walked a little faster.
Brody’s truck was parked behind the cabin, but he sat on the front porch, waiting for her.
“Any trouble?” he asked, his hand low on her back as she unlocked her door.
“No.” She closed the door and stared up at him. The look on his face tore at her heart. “What’s wrong?”
He took her hands in his. “I was thinking about what you said—about Scarlett. It got me thinking. Is that what happened with you?”
“What did I say?” The whole drive here she’d been thinking about being back in his arms.
“Did JT break your heart?” he asked, his hand squeezing hers.
She stared at their hands, his words ringing in her ears. “Why is this so important to you?”
His fingers brushed along her jaw. “I’ve known you most of my life, Goldilocks. Something happened to plant doubt in your eyes—doubt that wasn’t there before. I want to know how it got there so I can help get it out.”
She stared at him, the thump of her heart heavy and slow.
“It matters,” he said. “To me, it matters.”
Had JT broken her heart? “By the time he left, my heart had already healed.” She would have paced the tiny room, but he caught her hand and pulled her into the circle of his arms. “I thought I loved him. He was very good at figuring out how to charm people—like a chameleon. And, boy, could he work a room. People bought in even though JT had no plans to make any of it happen. Things fell apart. He fell apart. Our marriage did, too.” She shook her head. “And once I knew what he was capable of... I knew it was all a lie.”
Brody cleared his throat. “He... Did he hurt you?”
India stared up at his face then. She’d never told anyone what had happened between her and JT. It pressed in on her some nights, creeping into her dreams and pulling her from a dead sleep sweating and crying and shaking with fear. Some things changed the way other people would look at her. But not Brody. Maybe telling him would make it easier to bear. “He did. But I made sure he never hurt Cal.”
Brody made an odd noise in the back of his throat but didn’t say a word. He sat on the lumpy, overstuffed couch and pulled her into his lap. She stayed cradled close for a long time, the beat of his heart beneath her ear.
“Brody?” she whispered, hoping she hadn’t made a terrible mistake.
“Give me a minute.” He smoothed the hair from her forehead and pressed a kiss to her temple.
But the silence stretched on until she couldn’t take it. She should have kept her mouth shut, brushed his question aside and kept things light. Maybe there were some things no one wanted to hear. But sitting here in silence wasn’t going to help. So she asked the questions that she’d had since seeing him again. “What about you? You and the girls’ mother.”
“Barbara? We’re good friends. I don’t think either one of us was too heartbroken.” He chuckled, his hold easing slightly. “Guess that means neither of us was fully invested. I get the girls eighty percent of the time—thanks to her career.”
But there was no malice in his voice. That was who Brody was, accepting and honest. He didn’t hold grudges. Or jump to conclusions. He didn’t say anything he didn’t mean. And he was unfailingly loyal.
“Considering how things could have turned out, I’d say I’m lucky,” he murmured.
She didn’t argue, but she knew the truth. Brody’s ex-wife had been the lucky one. She’d had this man’s devotion, his love and their family. She’d let it all go. Brody deserved a woman who’d fight for him and his girls. Someone who’d never let them go.
But tonight, he was hers.
His big hands stroked along her back, up her neck and through her hair. She closed her eyes, reveling in the way he held her—the way he touched her. She shuddered and nuzzled closer to press her lips to his throat. Her lips traveled up his neck, along his jaw, and sucked his earlobe into her mouth, dragging a broken curse from his lips. The taste of him, salt and man and fresh air, was pure intoxication.
Her hands tightened on his shoulders as she moved to kiss him. He groaned against her lips, his hands fisting in the back of her shirt as he crushed her against him. But it wasn’t enough.
* * *
BRODY HAD ALWAYS prided himself on keeping a clear head. But India was challenging that. It wasn’t just her kisses or eager touches, it was her abandon. There was an urgency to her he understood. The pull between them was hot and demanding. And when her lips sealed with his, he was pulled under.
His hands slid beneath her shirt, her skin silk beneath his touch. His fingers ran along her sides, drawing a shudder from her—making her arch into him. Damn but she was soft. And sweet.
Her fingers fell to the buttons on his shirt, freeing the fabric and tugging the shirt wide. She tore her lips from his to look at his chest. But he wasn’t sure what she was thinking, good or bad, until her fingers began a featherlight exploration of his bare skin.
“We had gym together,” she murmured, smiling. “This is all new.”