The Brazen (Calamity Montana)

SHIT, I was going to cry. Why? This was crazy, right? I’d spent less than a week in total with Pierce, yet here I was, choking to death on the threat of tears.

I was definitely going to cry. In a minute. I’d save the tears for the trip home.

“Drive safe,” Pierce said as we stood beside the open door.

I nodded and slung my purse over a shoulder. “You too.”

He stepped in close, framing my face with his hands. There was restless urgency in his eyes. Like there were words inside his head clawing to be set free. It was much too soon for those kinds of words.

Still, there they were, swimming in his eyes. Swirling in mine too.

This. Us. There was something here worth exploring, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask for more.

Because if Pierce rejected me, if he said no—and he would, his message about a relationship had been crystal clear—I wasn’t sure I’d recover from it. I’d survived a broken engagement, but if Pierce turned me down, it might crush my heart.

He opened his mouth.

My breath caught. Maybe . . . please. Don’t let this be the end. I hoped beyond reason, searching his eyes for a sign that I wasn’t alone in this.

It was there in those dark brown irises. I wasn’t alone in this.

Please.

Pierce closed his mouth. He shook his head and pulled me into his arms for one last hug.

Damn. My foolish hopes were swept through the door into the wind, like a snowflake vanishing into a drift.

“Take care of yourself.” His voice was jagged. His arms tightened so hard it was like he was trying to brand my body against his.

Or maybe that was me clinging to him. I didn’t want to forget the hard plane of his chest beneath my cheek. I wanted to remember for the rest of my days how it felt to be in his strong arms.

The tears were coming. They were scratching their way up my throat, but I refused to cry in front of him. This fling had been my idea. Whatever pain it caused was mine alone to bear.

So I peeled myself away and stepped back to force a smile. “Thank you. This was the best time I’ve had in a long time.”

He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Same here.”

Moments passed as we stared, drinking each other in. My eyes roved over his face, committing every perfect piece to memory. The square line of his jaw. The beard that felt like sin against my skin. The sparkle in his eyes and the way he looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the world.

I’d seen that look before, on the faces of my friends’ husbands as they gazed at their wives. It was wholly unsettling and powerful aimed my way. And it was heartbreaking to come from a man who wasn’t mine to keep.

Pierce had made it clear . . . there was no future.

Without another word, I stepped through the door. The chill hit fast, and bless the cold, it gave me something else to think about as I took a step onto the snow-dusted sidewalk.

I made it three strides before a hand clamped over my elbow, spinning me around. Then Pierce’s lips were there, moving over mine in a kiss that stole my breath and flooded my body with every sensation. One kiss and I came alive.

His arms banded around me as his tongue swept inside, dueling with my own. One last time. It hurt to kiss him because damn it, this man could kiss. He’d ruined me for anyone else.

For the rest of my days, I wouldn’t forget Pierce Sullivan. Even if I had to let him go.

He broke away, dropping his forehead to mine.

He was barefoot.

I wouldn’t say goodbye, so I simply stepped back, met those eyes of his once more before turning on a heel and striding away.

Don’t look back. Oh, how I wanted to, but I didn’t let myself. I didn’t let myself see him go inside and close the door.

But I did let myself cry.

The moment I was out of the driveway and headed down the road in my mother’s car, I let the tears fall. Mile after mile, they dripped down my cheeks. It wasn’t until I was driving down First Street that I wiped the last one away.

I navigated the familiar roads, drawing comfort from home, as I headed to The Refinery.

The lights were on and Mom was there, sitting at the desk, reading a book. She’d see my splotchy face and know I’d been crying, but I didn’t have the energy to hide from her today. To put on a false smile.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, walking through the door.

“Hi!” She shot off her seat and rushed my way, blinking when she took in my face. “Honey, what is it?”

“Nothing.” I waved it off and fell into her arms. Would there ever be a time when a hug from Mom didn’t help? “It’s just been one hell of a week.”

“I’m sure you’re exhausted after having to put up with that man.” She stroked a hand up and down my back. “Was it awful?”

“No, it was fine.” It had been wonderful. But I wasn’t in the mood to tell her about Pierce or defend him when I doubted she’d understand.

Maybe he’d stay my secret forever. Like the pregnancy I’d lost. Maybe the only person who’d ever get my confessions was Pierce.

“You should go home,” she said.

“No, I’ll take over.” I let her go. “You’ve been here all week.”

“I don’t mind. I actually like it here.”

Did she have to sound so surprised? “That’s great.”

“I even did a yoga class yesterday.”

I raised my eyebrows. Mom had shown exactly zero interest in this gym’s offerings. “Really?”

She nodded. “It was fun. I invited your aunts down to do it with me this afternoon. This studio is really something special.”

I blinked. Had she just given me a compliment about my business? Since I’d opened The Refinery, the only family who’d come in were three of my cousins and Larke. “That’s . . . great.”

“See? There’s really no need for you to be here today. Besides, you look wiped.”

Because Pierce had kept me up all night long. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Your dad is picking me up so you might as well drive my car home. We can pick it up here tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I should probably stay and do some work, but I could use some alone time at home. Some time to get my bearings, because everything seemed to have shifted. How did life change so quickly?

Days. That was all I’d had with Pierce. Days. But it was like I’d stepped off a cliff to return to reality.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mom placed her hand on my arm and gave me her worried look. Furrowed forehead. Lips pursed.

“I’m good.” I forced one last smile and hugged her again. “Like I said, it was just a weird week.” Weird and wonderful and wild.

“Did something happen?”

I think I might have fallen a little bit in love. “No.”

“Did he mistreat you?”

“Of course not.”

“I don’t trust that man.” She huffed. “His grandfather either.”

My family had never understood my relationship with Gabriel. Whenever I brought him up in conversation, I’d end up defending both Gabriel and my own choices. They thought taking his money was unnecessary since there were banks in town. Dad especially didn’t like Gabriel—part of me wondered if it was jealousy.

After a few years, I’d stopped talking about Gabriel at all around my family. It was easier that way.

And since I was sure it would be the same with Pierce, I’d keep my mouth closed.

“Thanks again, Mom.”

“Get some rest. I’ll take care of everything here, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. Bye.” With a wave, I returned to her car and drove home. The moment I stepped through the front door, a fresh batch of tears welled.

This home, a place I’d cherished, was so . . . lonely.

“What is wrong with me?” I asked the empty living room as I dumped my purse on the couch.

Days. It had only been days. Pierce and I didn’t even know each other. He didn’t know that I rarely painted my nails because I ended up picking off the polish within a day. He didn’t know that I’d had an irrational fear of tornados ever since my third-grade teacher had made us study them for a class project. He didn’t know my favorite color was green and that I preferred still water to sparkling.

He didn’t know me, like I didn’t know him. So why did it feel like I’d just lost someone? My someone.

“I’m crazy.”

“For talking to yourself? Uh, yeah.”

I screamed and whirled around as my brother came striding out of the kitchen with Clementine in his arms. I’d been so distracted that I hadn’t noticed his car when I’d pulled up.

Zach wore a pair of black slacks and a blue button-down shirt. My brother was tall, like most of the men in our family. His hair was a shade lighter than mine, but otherwise, there was no mistaking us for siblings. And dressed in the dealership’s unofficial uniform, he was the spitting image of our father.

The moment Clementine spotted me, she squirmed and jumped to the floor, trotting over to rub up against my legs.

“Oh, Clem. I missed you.” I swept her up, pressing my cheek to the soft white fur on her head as she nuzzled against me. “Thanks for feeding her.”

Zach was the only one she tolerated besides me. Probably because they both had attitudes.

“Her litter box is full,” he said. “And now that you’re here, I’m not going to clean it.”

“A welcome home gift.”

He chuckled and came over to pull me into a sideways hug. The scent of smoke and cigarettes clung to his clothes.

I squirmed away. “You said you quit smoking.”

He frowned. “Well, I didn’t.”

“You promised.”

“Let it go, Kerrigan. I’ve got things on my mind.”

“Like what?” He had a good job. He had his own home. He wasn’t married and didn’t have kids.

“Like . . . it’s none of your business. Don’t you have enough of your own problems to worry about? You’re going broke. You don’t even have a car. This place is a wreck. Mom’s running your fancy studio because you don’t have any employees to cover while you’re spending the week at a mountain resort. Maybe instead of worrying about me, you should tackle some of your own problems first.”

I blinked.

Wow.

It stung every time he threw my failures in my face. Every. Single. Time. I should be used to it by now because Zach had taken it upon himself to act as the outspoken authority on all the ways I was messing up my life.

Once upon a time, I’d looked up to my big brother. I’d valued his opinion. When he’d been racing ahead, I’d just kept running to catch him.

But these days, I avoided his company unless it was Sunday dinner at Mom and Dad’s.

I walked to the door and flung it open. “Well, it looks like you’re working so don’t let me keep you. Thanks again for feeding Clementine.”

“Yeah.” He scowled and stormed out.

I slammed the door behind him. “Ass.”

Clementine flicked her tail in my face.

“Don’t defend him.”

I set her on her feet and went to my purse, digging out my phone. My heart sank at the empty screen.

Would I hear from Pierce again? Or had today really been goodbye? Now I regretted not saying the word.

Maybe Lucy or Everly would be up for a drink at Jane’s. I went to type out a text only to delete it before hitting send. It would probably be best not to sit at home alone and dwell, but I didn’t want to be around people. Tonight, all I wanted was to hang out with my cat and nurse the ache in my chest that shouldn’t be there.

It shouldn’t be there, right?

“But it is,” I whispered.

Even though I didn’t want to change my clothes because they still smelled like Pierce, I went to my bedroom and stripped off my jeans and sweater, trading them for a simple white tee and my paint-splattered overalls.

Tomorrow, I’d have to talk to my realtor about taking this place off the market. The farmhouse too. The term on my listing contract was three months but I doubted she’d hold me to it. In the meantime, I needed something to take my mind off Pierce.

So I went to work, first by taking pictures of the powder bathroom off the kitchen. I snapped photo after photo at varying angles. I’d already primed and prepped the walls a couple weeks ago so these were actually mid-progress shots but I had a few true before pictures saved in my camera roll. Then I went to the dining room table and plucked up the gallon of deep green paint I’d earmarked for the space.

The color was dark and bold, a reflection of my mood, and as I sat on the tiled floor and began to cut in around the trim, I found a center. The strokes of the brush helped ease some of the sting and as the hours passed, the room transformed.

How many women could say they had a romantic, exhilarating week filled with passion? How many women could say that a man like Pierce had treated them like a queen? How many women had literally been swept off their feet?

Yes, I should simply be grateful. To count myself lucky to be one of those women. But . . .

“I want more,” I whispered.

For the first time in years, I wasn’t okay looking into the future and seeing a solitary life.

The tears had dried up, shed for today, but the hole in my chest had doubled and this tiny room couldn’t hold it all, so I shoved off my feet, slapped the lid back on the paint can and went to the kitchen.

I was putting my roller and paint brush into a plastic bag and stowing them in the fridge when the front door opened.

“Kerrigan,” my sister called.

“I’m in here,” I called back, going to the sink to wash the paint from my hands.

“Hey.” She came into the room, shrugging off her coat. “I’m glad you’re home. I was getting worried.”

“All is well.” I smiled over my shoulder.

“So? How’d it go?”

“It was, um . . . fine.” Incredible. Life altering.

“Did you get it from him?”

“Uh.” I froze as the water rushed over my hands. How did she know?

“The extension on your contract.”

“Oh.” I blushed and shook my head, turning off the faucet and swiping up a towel to dry my hands. “Yes. He agreed to a payment plan, so I won’t have to sell everything.”

“Yay! Then it was worth being stuck up there with the arrogant jerk. Ugh. I can’t imagine. Did you have to deal with him much or did he at least leave you alone?”

“He was . . . nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah. Nice.”

“What did you even do up there?”

Each other. The admission nearly slipped out and I hid a smile. Maybe someday I’d share my story about Pierce with her, but for now, he was mine to keep for myself. “Mostly just hung out.” Naked. “Anything exciting happen here while I was gone?”

She shrugged. “Nothing much. My students were driving me insane today and I was doubting everything about being a teacher. But then one of the girls came up to me at the last recess and told me that I was the prettiest teacher in the whole school, so it cheered me up.”

I laughed. “She’s not wrong.”

Larke waved it off and went to the fridge. “What are you doing for dinner? This is empty.”

Besides my paint tools, all I had was ketchup, mustard and jelly. The bread I’d bought before my trip to the mountains was probably stale and moldy.

“Now that I’m not trying to save every cent I can find, I might splurge on pizza,” I said.

“I’ll go in half with you.”

“Deal.” I found my phone and called in the order for delivery. Then I showed Larke the progress I’d made in the powder bath and told her about my idea to start blogging.

“What do you think?” I held my breath. She was the most supportive of any family members, but my sister was also the most honest of any family members.

“I like it.”

“Yeah? It might flop.”

“But it might not. And what do you have to lose? Try it. If you hate it or it goes nowhere in the next five years, you’re not out much. Besides, you love the DIY stuff.”

“I really do.” I smiled, loving the smell of fresh paint coming from the powder room.

The doorbell rang.

“Pizza,” Larke and I said in unison.

“I’ll get it.” She headed for the door while I took out plates and glasses. What I needed was wine, but tonight, we’d have to settle for water.

“Uh . . . Kerrigan?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you come out here?”

Not liking the uncertainty in her voice, I hurried from the kitchen. “What’s—”

My feet stopped short at the man in the doorway. He didn’t work for the Pizza Palace.

Pierce stood on my stoop, wearing jeans and a sweater. His frame seemed to fill the entire threshold.

Was he really here? Or had I fallen asleep and the paint fumes had conjured him in a dream?

“Hi.” That voice, rich and deep, was most definitely real.

“Hi,” I breathed.

As Larke looked back and forth between us, a smile stretched across her face. Then she left Pierce’s side, walking past me for the kitchen and returning with her coat. “I’ll expect more details later other than he was nice and you hung out. Have a good night.”

“Bye,” I murmured, not looking away from Pierce.

When Larke slipped past him, he stepped inside and closed the door.

The state of my house was a wreck of half-finished projects. The far wall in the living room was edged with a plum paint but I hadn’t had time to roll the rest of the wall. The end table that I’d sanded down sat in a corner, unstained and raw. The couch was draped with Clementine’s favorite blanket and it was long overdue for a dehairing.

Then there was me. My hair was a mess, twisted on top of my head. My overalls were splattered with every shade of paint, not just the powder room’s green. And my tee was so threadbare that it was practically transparent.

“I’m a mess,” I confessed.

“You’re beautiful.”

A flush crept into my cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

He crossed the room, his long legs and confident swagger sending a rush of desire to my core. Then he was there, towering over me like he had been just this morning. “I need one more night.”

My knees nearly buckled.

“Give me one more night.”

“Yes,” I said in a rushed breath. He could have as many nights as he wanted.

Pierce’s hand came to my cheek and his thumb brushed across my skin. He pulled it away and showed me a streak of green. “You’ve been busy.”

I giggled. “I was trying to get my mind off of a certain tall and handsome billionaire.”

“Did it work?” His fingertip returned to my face, tracing the line of my cheekbone.

“No.”

He leaned down, grinning against my lips. “Good.”

Then his mouth was on mine and my hands snaked up his chest to wrap around his shoulders. We kissed like we’d spent days apart, not hours. And when the doorbell rang again, I had to tear myself away.

“Who’s that?”

“Pizza,” I panted.

I rushed to answer on unsteady legs. “Hi,” I told the delivery kid. “One sec.”

My purse. Where was my purse? I spun in a circle, searching. I scrambled for it on the couch, but before I could dig out my wallet, Pierce strode past me, taking out some cash from his pocket and trading it for a medium, hand-tossed pepperoni pizza.

“Thanks. Keep the change,” he told the kid, whose eyes widened at the hundred-dollar bill in his grip.

Pierce carried my dinner to the kitchen.

I unglued my feet and followed.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, the box hovering over the plates I’d set out for Larke and me.

“Not for pizza.”

He smiled and stowed the box in the fridge.

Then it was my turn to lead, straight for the bedroom.

Hours later, we reheated the pizza and, barely clothed, ate it standing in the kitchen because my table was cluttered with paint cans and drop cloths and random tools I’d deposited in between. Then we returned to my bed and spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms.

ONE MORE NIGHT together didn’t make it easier when morning came. I fought the same tears as I stood in my doorway, watching Pierce drive away.

I made a wish as his taillights disappeared around a corner.

Come back to me.