Brown Siblings - 01 Laid Bare (5 page)

4

For the next two months their contact remained at a fever pitch. Any time they were alone for more than five minutes, they had sex.

Standing up, sitting down, on the kitchen table, on the stairs at her place, in the shower. He was on fire for her, and the freedom made his blood sing. Erin was good for him in so many ways. He truly believed it. Enjoyed her company, loved being around her. At the same time, he battled his guilt and shame over his desires and he didn’t quite know what to do about it. He was raised to believe men didn’t harm women, even if the woman liked it. Raised to see that the union between the genders was about gentleness and kindness, and when those dark urges of his had bubbled up before, he’d tamped them down.

Only, with Erin, those urges were encouraged. She reveled in them, and in doing so, he found himself craving more. He distrusted the rawness in that, distrusted his behavior, because it was far from what he’d been led to believe was good and true.

On one hand, when he was with her, he felt as if he were coming into his own, growing into the man he wanted so badly to be. But at the same time, he struggled with the belief that the man he wanted to be was wrong. If she made him feel that way, didn’t that make her bad for him? In the end, feeling good also felt bad, and who the hell was he going to talk to about it? Not his parents, that was for sure. His friends? How would he broach that he liked to leave little bite marks on her shoulder so he could look at them while he fucked her from behind? If it wasn’t shameful, why would he be afraid to talk about it?

One afternoon, at lunch with some friends, he’d seen her come into the small restaurant and he lifted a hand. His stomach warmed at the sight of her.

She saw and smiled, approaching them.

“Who the hell is that?” Ron Dyson, his old partner, mumbled. Dyson was old school. A lifelong beat cop, a man in his early sixties with very set opinions. A good cop, great instincts, but not the most open-minded man around.

“Hi, Officer Keenan. What’s doin’?”

Todd couldn’t help but return her smile. She looked so beautiful there, her dreads back in a bandana, her long, lithe body wrapped in some funky blue dress thing.

“Just having lunch.” He wondered if he should invite her to sit down. Wondered if their worlds could ever accommodate each other. “And you?”

“I’m picking up a to-go order. I’ll see you later. Have a good day.” She grabbed several large bags and waved as she left with another woman and headed up the block. He knew her older brother’s tattoo shop and the adjoining coffee bar she ran weren’t very far away.

“Um, she’s not your usual type. Where’d you meet her? Did you arrest her or something?” Ron snickered.

“She’s a friend. She lives a few doors down. Her name is Erin.”

“Don’t get your boxers in a bunch. I was just askin’. It’s not like I thought you were marrying her or anything.”

Todd looked up the street and back to his friends, sighing.

Erin knew something was up when she got home from a show and he’d left a note asking for her to come over. She showered quickly and changed before going to his place.

Rolling her eyes inwardly at the music he played, she plopped down on his couch. The scent of pizza hung in the air.

She smiled her thanks when he handed her a plate with two pieces of hot, melty pie. “You’re a god. A genius in bed and pizza too. Why are you single anyway?” He looked at her, surprised.

“I’m not kidding. I’m curious. You’re like, incredibly, unbelievably handsome. You have a steady job. You’re responsible. You make sure I come before you do. You have a good car.

You’re intelligent, funny when you’re not trying to pretend you don’t get off on the wild sex we have, and you’re hot.”

“I don’t know how to talk to you.” He scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Why do you make simple things so complicated? Maybe you should stop worrying so much and just talk to me. Be yourself. Why don’t you tell me about yourself? We’ve been, um, dating for a few months now, but you don’t talk about yourself much.” He took a bite of pizza and watched her carefully. “Not much to tell. Seattle born and bred.

Being a cop runs in the family. My dad, both brothers and my sister are cops. I’m single because I broke off an engagement about a year and a half ago. I’m dating around right now. It’s hard to find a woman who accepts the whole cop’s wife thing.” Erin looked at him and thought over what she’d heard.

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“What do you mean?” He shifted uncomfortably. “Look, Erin, I like you and all, but this . . .

thing between us is just fun. No of fense but we’re not suited at all.” It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. He was delusional. “Bullshit.” She finished the first slice and leaned back. “I’m not asking you to marry me or anything. But we connect, Todd Keenan. You spend so much time trying to just be fucking normal, you get tripped up in it. Just be yourself.

Yes, you like dirty talk. You’re kinky, big deal. Why do you fight so hard against what you seem to really like? I like it, I’m willing. You come hard. Why do you deny yourself this way?”

“It’s not who I am!” He stood and stormed into the kitchen. She heard the plate clatter and she wiped her mouth.

“Is it so fucking awful? It’s not like you want to wear a chicken suit while you fuck someone wrapped in plastic wrap or something. You don’t, do you?” She laughed but stopped when he growled and stomped back into the living room.

“It’s not who I am, damn you! Look, it’s you and me. I’m not like this with other women. I’m gentle and the sex is nice. I don’t know what comes over me when you’re near. It’s not
right
. I wasn’t . . . I’m not supposed to like it.”

She shrugged. What else could she do? Beg him to be who he was? When he thought being who he was, who
she
was, made them some kind of freaks? “The last thing I want to do is force you into talking dirty and begging me to suck your cock with my fingers in your ass, stroking your prostate.”

He winced and petty satisfaction settled in. He liked it. Got off on it. And it was
her
fault he was so damned repressed he hated himself over it?

She grabbed her bag. “I’ll spare you the
it was fun
talk and you can spare me the
it’s not you, it’s
me
stuff. Okay?” Hesitating, she sighed and tiptoed up to kiss him quickly. “I hope you find a place in your life when you can let go and be happy. But I’m not a dirty secret. I’m not bad and wrong for being comfortable with myself, and I won’t let you make me feel that way.” He slammed a hand against the wall next to her and then grabbed her around the waist, pulling her flush against his body. “Damn it, Erin, I don’t lose control. I’m a controlled man. I make good choices. I don’t fuck women against alley walls. It’s off-putting.”

“Really now? So who fucked me in that alley, Todd? Your dop pelganger? Who shoved my

mouth down on his cock in his truck three nights ago when we got back from the grocery store?

You
like
it rough. You
like
it dirty. Why are you so ashamed of it? You didn’t hurt me. I was there with you every step of the way.”

“I don’t want to like it, damn it. Can’t you understand that? I don’t choose to like it. I don’t want to be the man who likes to fuck rough! I choose not to be him.” He shoved a hand through his hair.

Pain sliced through her. “I get it. You think being with me is a bad choice.”

“It’s not . . . I didn’t plan for you, Erin. I like you.”

“But you don’t like who you are when you’re with me. You blame this on me and I’m not having it. I won’t be responsible for your life. You’re a big boy.”

“No. Oh fuck, I don’t know. This is very intense. I have an intense job. I’m not sure if I need an intense personal life too.”

“I see.” She looked into his eyes, wishing he’d wake up and see her. See them and what they could have together.

“You keep saying that, Erin. But how can you see? I don’t even see.”

“All I see is a man who can’t face himself. And it makes me sad, because you’re alive when we’re together and you’re not hiding who you are. You’re playing a game with this, a stupid game. Why I don’t know, because I like who you are. I won’t play this game with you. I’m worth more and so are you.” She leaned up, pressed her hand over his heart and kissed his chin.

“Good-bye, Todd. I wish you well, I really do. If you change your mind, give me a call. Maybe I’ll be available.”

He watched her walk out the door and told himself it was for the best, but he knew he was lying to himself. Just like she said he was.

5

Present Day

Todd pulled his truck down his street and smiled when he saw the house.
His house
. He’d been driving for three days. Escaping Boston, a broken marriage, a waste of a job and eighteen months of physical therapy that had enabled him to walk without a limp. Mostly.

Into his new life, back to Seattle and into his new job with some old friends from the Seattle Police Department.

Coming back to the Northwest seemed a lot less like escape than leaving it nearly ten years before had. He’d spun out of control, run from what could have been a great relationship and into a job he’d started out loving and that had ended up nearly killing him.

That didn’t even address the ex-wife situation. He’d tried; she might have for a few more years, but it just fell apart. She wasn’t who he’d truly wanted, and he wasn’t the person she thought she’d married either. A mess of epic proportions, and the shooting had been the final burden that had simply torn the last bit of the foundations apart.

Sheila was a nice woman and all, but he didn’t ache for her at night, didn’t think about where she

might be at any given time. In truth, it was as if the past eight years of his life had been an uninteresting interlude punctuated with a coma, painful PT and mediocre sex. He had no one but himself to blame.

She’d filed for divorce when he came out of the coma, but had hung around to be sure he was all right. He’d give her that much. Not six months after that she’d gotten married to someone else, and last he’d heard she was pregnant with the child she’d wanted but that he’d been too busy to give her.

He’d had a lot of time to examine his life, his mistakes. He’d looked at himself pretty unflinchingly and he’d admitted he lived half a life out of fear of expressing just exactly who he was. So he’d accepted it, and during his physical recovery he’d had the time to make plans for a future doing what he wanted to do. A future being who he was instead of who he thought he should be.

Once he’d gotten the green light to go back to work, he’d handed in his resignation and begun to figure out a business plan with some old friends of his in Seattle.

So here he was, opening the front door to his new house and ready to take on his new life.

The house was typical of the Greenlake neighborhood: big bay windows, hardwood floors, small bedrooms but large common rooms and a good-sized kitchen. The basement had been converted into a mother-in-law flat, so he would use that as his office.

The furniture and boxes had been delivered the week before, and he smiled when he noted that his mother had not only put linens on the beds but had taken the time to leave a note telling him she’d left him dinner in the freezer.

He turned in a big circle. This was his. His life, his future, loomed ahead of him, and for the first time in a very long time, he couldn’t wait to see what was next.

Erin finished stirring the soup for that day’s lunch special and turned around to check the progress of the pasta for the salad. Another two minutes should do it.

She checked the readerboard above the coffee counter and made sure it had been updated with the specials before returning to drain the pasta, cool it and toss it with the dressing and veggies.

The work was a ritual; it soothed and connected her to her life when at times she felt like just floating away.

Running the café gave her tangible goals. She started and finished tasks every day. It marked time in a positive way. She needed it.

Brody, her older brother and the owner of the other half of the building—his tattoo shop—