Unspoken

Palmer

Forever? There’s no such thing. Love, life—it’s all fleeting. I had to trade in my happy ending, and though I make places beautiful with my work as an interior designer, the rest of my life is anything but beautiful – it’s slowly pulling me under. When I’m forced to see the man I turned my back on, though, I can’t deny his hold on me.

Brady

Am I driven? Hell yeah. A contractor, I’m swiftly building my business into an empire. Work is a faithful companion that never lets me down like the woman I loved did. When I see women now, it’s on my terms. And my terms are simple: just sex. I won’t let a woman break me again—until she returns. With her, pain and pleasure are an intoxicating combination I can’t get enough of—even if it ruins us both.

Palmer

I grinned at the image of the bride in the magazine I held, picturing her classic, beaded veil and big cascading curls on myself.

“You like?” I asked, turning the magazine around for my design partner Georges to see.

“Eh,” he said, frowning. “Maybe if you were going to prom in 1985. Add some pink frosted lipstick and dark blue eye shadow.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t want my hair pulled back tight the way you like. Brady wouldn’t like it either. He likes to touch my hair. You know, run his hands through it.”

Georges gave me a horrified stare. “Not on your wedding day, Palmer! What about the photos? Tell him to keep his caveman hands to himself until the wedding night.”

Just the words wedding night brought on a tingle of excitement. Not that Brady didn’t bring it every time we had sex, but the idea of wedding night sex was especially hot. He’d told me about a fantasy involving his face between my thighs while I still had the dress on, and I couldn’t deny that I was now fantasizing about it too.

“We still have quite a few details to work out,” Georges said, looking up from the bridal magazine he was flipping through to give me a chastising look over the dark rims of his glasses.

“I know,” I said, snapping out of my sexy reverie about Brady. “Let me get out my wedding planner.”

“Let’s finish this over sushi,” Georges said. “I skipped lunch and I’m starving.”

I glanced down at my watch and shook my head. “Ugh, it’s after six. I can’t. My mom asked me to stop by her house on my way home, and I told her I’d be there around six.”

“Damn you. Now I have to get carryout.” Georges rolled his eyes dramatically.

“I’ll buy lunch tomorrow,” I said. “Don’t forget that we’re going to the florist’s shop for a dry run of the centerpieces.”

Georges’ face brightened. “Let’s go visit the dress again too.”

“Maybe,” I said, smiling at him. “It has been a full week since we last saw it. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

He nodded and turned back to the magazine. I checked my phone on the way to the parking deck, smiling when I saw a message from Brady.

Brady: Going to see Dad. Be home late. Lunch tomorrow? Love you.

I wrote back, glancing up occasionally to make sure I didn’t crash into anyone. 

Me: Lunch with G tomorrow. I’ll cook dinner tomorrow night at my place. Love you too.

We still called it my place even though he’d practically moved in. Once married, we planned to live in my tiny bungalow instead of his tiny apartment. Between Brady’s building skills and my design ones, we’d made my place into a cozy love nest.

On the drive to Mom’s, I let my mind wander to the job I’d just been hired for. I was designing a nursery for twins – a boy and a girl. My client loved a traditional look, so I was using gingham, soft yellows and greens and gorgeous white painted furniture. 

This job was creating unexpectedly strong maternal pangs. Brady and I both wanted kids, but we wanted to wait a couple of years. He was paying a price for his father’s lousy decisions, and we both had to focus on our careers for a while.

Still, I let myself dream about the day we’d have a baby. Hopefully one with his dark hair and bright green eyes.

I parked in front of Mom’s house, noticing the faded maroon shutter that had been hanging by one screw had finally fallen off. Brady had offered to paint the dingy brownish exterior when Mom and Danny moved in here last year, but Mom always put him off, saying she knew he was too busy with work. 

This place needed a spruce-up, though, even if Brady and I had to show up and just do it. Weeds were beginning to overtake the small flower bed next to the front porch.

When I pulled open the creaky back screen door, Mom glanced up from the kitchen table and stood, meeting me for a hug. She held on longer than usual, and I studied her face when she pulled away.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.” She headed for the stove, not meeting my curious gaze. “I made you a plate of dinner. Chicken pot pie.”

I sank into a chair at the table, looking around the kitchen for my younger brother. “Where’s Danny?”  

On cue, his wheelchair came rolling into the room. 

“Almer!” he cried, reaching out his arms. I grinned and stood, bending down to hug him tight, the way he liked.

As soon as I released him, he turned his chair around, grunting with the effort, and worked his way back out of the room.

“Where are you going?” I called behind him. “I just got here!”

“Cubs,” he said shortly.

I smiled at his retreating form, realizing I should’ve guessed from his baseball hat and Cubs t-shirt that he was immersed in a game on TV. Though he was twenty-three, Danny’s doctors said he had the mental capacity of a four-year-old. But I knew he was smarter than they gave him credit for. No matter what his mental capacity, he was the brightest ray of sunshine in my life. I’d been in one fist fight in my life – when I was eight and a kid in our neighborhood called my five-year-old brother stupid. 

Mom set a plate down in front of me, fussing over grabbing the salt and pepper shakers and a napkin and pouring me a glass of iced tea.

“I can get that stuff. Sit down,” I said. “This looks delish.”

“How are the wedding plans coming?” she asked, her eyes warming with excitement. 

“Good. I’m going to make the final decisions on the flowers tomorrow.”

I blew on a steaming forkful of pot pie, studying my mom’s drawn expression. She didn’t bother with fixing her hair or makeup, since she spent her days taking care of Danny. But the lines on her face were more pronounced than usual. Something was off.

“What’s up?” I lowered my fork and set it on the plate. “You look worried.”

She sighed deeply. “It’s probably nothing.”

“What’s probably nothing?”

“I got a call from the hospital today about the pre-op testing for my back surgery.”

“That’s right,” I said, chiding myself for forgetting to call her about it yesterday. “Is there a problem with the surgery?”

Hopefully the doctor hadn’t changed his mind about it helping her, or the insurance hadn’t denied coverage. Mom needed this surgery. Years of lifting Danny in and out of his chair had left her back aching every minute of the day, though she rarely complained about it.

“They did an x-ray and it showed a possible mass,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “In one of my lungs.”

My heart pounded as her words sank in. “A …” I cleared my throat. “A possible mass? What does that mean?”

She sighed again. “It means I have to get a CT scan tomorrow. Aunt Claire came over to be with Danny while I was at the hospital yesterday, and it’s an hour drive for her. I didn’t want to ask her to come back tomorrow. Is there any way you could come over in the morning, around 9:30?”

“Of course.” Emotions swirled inside me. This was so unexpected that I was still trying to wrap my mind around it. “But I want to go with you. I’ll ask Brady to come stay with Danny.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know that they’ll do anything but the scan tomorrow, Palmer. The results may take time. I can handle it on my own. If you’ll be with Danny, that’d be perfect.”

“Sure,” I said, not sure at all. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and attempted a smile. “It’s probably nothing. Just a precaution. They haven’t cancelled my surgery or anything.”

I nodded too, trying to see that as a positive indication. But the worry that had kicked up my heart rate and drained my appetite in an instant was still there. 

Flowers, cake and the perfect wedding hairstyle suddenly felt like ridiculous things to care about. All that mattered right now was my mom being okay. She had to be.

Brady

Seeing my dad in an orange jumpsuit stamped with black numbers got to me even more than the handcuffs. Here, he wasn’t Tucker Grant, successful contractor and businessman – he was Inmate R14738. 

I couldn’t feel sorry for him. He’d swindled his own clients and employees out of more than $300,000. But prison was one place I never thought I’d set foot in, and I sure as hell hadn’t expected to be visiting my own father here.

He nodded over at me, bending his elbows and raising his hands in the air so a guard could unlock the handcuffs. Once free, he approached and grinned, sitting down on the other side of a table in the state prison visiting room. 

“Brady,” he said in greeting.

“Hey, Dad. How’s it going?”

He shrugged, appearing unconcerned. “Been doing lots of reading.” With a glance at the door, he realized I was alone. “Where’s your brother?”

I shook my head. “Hell if I know. Hasn’t shown up for work since Tuesday.”

Dad’s dark, silver-streaked hair was a little longer than it’d been when he started his sentence a month ago. I couldn’t help wondering what the past four weeks had been like for him, but I didn’t care enough to ask.

“So how’s business? You keeping things afloat?” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, studying me seriously.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” I shook my head. “Business is … I don’t know, destroyed might be a good word for it. You know clients started dropping us right and left when you got indicted.”

A shadow crossed his face. “That’s part of the job. You have to get those clients back or replace them with new ones.”

“Yeah, ones who don’t watch the news,” I muttered.

He pointed a finger at me and spoke in a low, ominous tone that would’ve scared the shit out of me several months ago. “Watch it, you ungrateful prick.”

“Or what?” I shrugged carelessly. “You left me a huge fucking mess to clean up, do you realize that? I’ve had to lay more than half the guys off. I went through my entire savings trying to keep the business open when we’ve got no work. No one trusts Grant Builders anymore, and it’s your fault.”

He snarled and gave me a dismissive wave. “Piss on that. The only one in here is me, so don’t act like you’re paying any sort of price.”

“You let the entire company down.” I held his gaze, making sure he heard me. I’d wanted to say these things for a long time. Months. Since the day he’d been taken away from a worksite by two detectives. I’d known from the time I heard the charges read in court that he was guilty. I could see it on his face. He’d kept business accounts I never knew about, which added to the betrayal.

“You don’t see your old man for a month and you come here to bust my balls?” He arched his brows at me. “Come on, tell me what’s new with you. How’s my future daughter-in-law?”

I sighed deeply, willing my blood pressure to go down. “Palmer’s good.”

“When’s the wedding?”

I shrugged and looked away. “Supposed to be in five weeks.”

“What’s that mean – ‘supposed to be’?” His brow furrowed with concern.

I unclenched my jaw to respond. “Well, like I said, I’ve gone through my entire savings. I’m supposed to be paying for the wedding.”

“That girl of yours deserves the best.”

His admonishing tone made me want to fly across the table and shove him to the floor. Didn’t he realize I wouldn’t be in this situation if not for his reckless greed?

“Yeah, I agree,” I said bitterly. “But like I said, I’m broke.” 

“So scale back. It doesn’t mean you can’t get married.”

“Palmer’s spent a lot of time planning this.” I rubbed my forehead, my stressful financial situation rising back up to the front of my mind. “I don’t want to have to tell her we can’t do any of it. I already had to postpone the honeymoon.”

Dad cleared his throat and looked from side to side. Apparently deciding no one was listening, he spoke in a low tone. “Listen, I’ve got an account you can access. One the cops never found.”

My face twisted with disbelief. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You think I’d take a dime of your dirty money?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You want your wedding or not?”

“Not like that, no.” My muscles tensed with nervous energy as anger rose inside me. “See, this right here is what you’ve left me with. Every fucking body – even you, apparently – thinks that because you’re a dishonest cheat, I must be, too. But I’m not. I’m breaking my fuckin’ back trying to save the business, but it’s sure as shit not for you. It’s for all the people who need their jobs there.”

He gave a disgusted grunt. “Have it your way. But I need you to access the account and get some money to an attorney for me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Dammit, Brady,” he said, leaning forward in an effort to intimidate me. “How many times have I come through for you? I put you through college, taught you most of what you know about building houses and gave you a great job at my company. All I need is for you to facilitate a transaction. I just need you to get my money to an attorney for my appeal.”

“Facilitate this,” I said, flipping him off. “It’s not your money.”

“I can’t believe I raised such a goody two-shoes,” he muttered. 

“I can’t believe my father’s a thief.” I stood from the chair. “Great to see you, Dad.”

I turned and nodded at the guard next to the door, who opened it for me. Why had I come here? I knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t be sorry. But I’d still wanted to tell him to his face about the damage he’d left in the wake of his spending spree.

Resentment boiled inside me as I made my way through the many doors of the prison, each of which had to be unlocked by guards entering codes into keypads. Two months ago, I’d thought it was all smooth sailing from here. I was making decent money and was about to settle down with a woman who was everything I’d ever wanted and more. But the rug had been pulled out from beneath me. Nothing made sense anymore. 

I’d waited to propose to Palmer until I knew I could give her the wedding she deserved and have enough money to start our life together. My newfound money problems didn’t just keep me up at night with worry, they also made me feel undeserving of her.

I turned the key in my pickup truck and it roared to life, throwing up gravel as I drove away from the prison. No matter how far I got from my father, I’d never be able to break away from his reputation.

Palmer 

The scent of sautéed garlic and the cool, sweet taste of Moscato took the edge off of my tension. But when Brady walked in the front door, the rest of my worries drained away. I met him halfway, my open arms telling him what I needed better than words could.

“Hi, baby,” he said in my ear. He’d pulled my body against his, lifting my feet from the floor. I wrapped myself around him, clinging for dear life.

“I’m so happy to see you,” I said, taking in his sweaty, cedar scent. The solid strength of him filled me with warmth and relief. 

I didn’t want to let go when he lowered me to the ground and leaned back to look at me.

“You okay?” he asked, his green eyes filled with concern. “How’d it go for your mom with the test?”

“We don’t know yet.” I reached up to his face, running my fingertips over his black stubble and then higher, stroking them through his short hair.

“Dinner smells amazing,” he said, looking over at the stove.

“You smell amazing.” I pressed myself back into his chest and he mumbled an approving grunt, bending to kiss me. I pulled his lower lip between my teeth, letting him know I wanted more than a sweet hello kiss.

His arms tightened around my waist and he picked me back up, carrying me toward the bedroom.

“You missed me last night,” he said, a smile in his tone as he spoke against my lips.

“I did.” I moaned with satisfaction as he kissed my neck, going right for the sweet spot beneath my ear.

When he lowered me to the bed, I unbuttoned the jeans I’d changed into after work, tugging them down. He grabbed the waistband and finished the job for me, pulling my panties off with them. He raised up my t-shirt and lowered his lips to my stomach, kissing it lightly. I writhed beneath him, loving the build-up and wanting more at the same time.

The tickle of his stubble across my skin set me on fire. I gripped his shoulders and ran my fingers through his hair. There wasn’t room for worry now. My desire consumed me, a powerful rush that forced all other sensations and thoughts aside.

Brady pulled my shirt off, his fingers deftly unfastening my bra and casting it to the floor. And then, he just looked. This undid me every time he did it. Sometimes he’d undress me completely, leaving all his clothes on, and just stare at my body.

My chest rose and fell as I panted. His eyes had darkened with desire, and I wanted him now. But Brady was enjoying himself too much to give in just yet. He stroked a hand over the large bulge in his jeans, his gaze washing up and down my body.

When he ran his fingertips over my breasts lightly, I couldn’t help crying out. My body was humming with desire, and his slight touch only stoked my desire for more.

“Spread your legs,” he murmured softly. When I slid my thighs apart, he groaned and tightened his grip on his bulge. I reached over and pushed his hand away, replacing it with my own.

“You see what you do to me?” he said, meeting my eyes. “Just looking at you. You’re so beautiful, Palmer. And all mine.”

He ran a fingertip down my stomach, continuing down to my clit, which made my body tense up as I cried out his name.

“God, that feels good,” I said breathlessly. 

A small smile played on Brady’s lips as he stripped off his t-shirt. The sculpted muscles of his chest and arms were bronzed from outdoor construction work. I pulled my knees apart further as he unbuttoned his jeans and they dropped to the floor. His boxers were next, and then he was climbing onto the bed, all dark, muscled perfection, and I closed my eyes and arched my back.

He kissed my thighs, but apparently decided he’d teased me enough then. When he filled me with one thrust, I wrapped my legs around his waist, knowing I wouldn’t last very long.

There was nothing between us now. We’d stopped using condoms when we got engaged, deciding the pill was enough. That had changed things emotionally more than I’d ever expected. The joining of our bodies was almost spiritual now – the way we connected before he left a part of himself in me.

He knew my body well, and he responded to my tensing muscles by moving faster, harder – exactly what I wanted. 

His breath was hot against my neck, and I pulled his hair, on the edge of the blissful release only he could give me.

“I love you so much, Palmer,” he said softly, pressing his lips to my neck. And that was it. I shattered into a million pieces, the sensation heightening to a level I could hardly bear when he thrust into me one last time and groaned against my skin. 

We both relaxed our bodies, lost in a cloudy haze of contentment.

“I’ve been wanting that all day,” I said, smiling as he pulled my body against him.

“Damn, that was hot.” He arched a brow at me. “I need a picture of you, all spread out like that.”

I felt my cheeks darkening at the thought. What was sexy in the moment now made me self-conscious. “Why take a picture when you can have the real thing anytime?”

He leaned up on an elbow, looking down at me. “I have to take a job out of town. You know things are bad, and I’ve got no choice if I want to keep the guys working.”

“Of course. Do what you need to do.” 

“We have to leave tomorrow. The job’s in Iowa. We’ll probably be three weeks. I hate to leave you now, with the wedding so close and all. We’re gonna work six tens, but I’ll be home Sundays.”

“Go,” I said emphatically. “Please go, and don’t worry.”

He brushed the hair back from my face and wrapped a hand around my neck.

“How was it with your dad?” I asked. “I know you texted that it was fine, but …”

Brady flipped onto his back and sighed. “I shouldn’t have gone. The asshole’s not sorry, which is no surprise.”

“Oh, shit!” I cried, jumping out of bed. “I forgot to turn off the stove!”

I ran for the kitchen, the smell of burnt garlic hitting before I was out of the bedroom. Switching off the burner, I moved the skillet of blackened garlic to another burner. When I walked back into the bedroom, Brady was pulling on his jeans.

“Let’s go get pizza,” he said. “I can’t stay tonight. I have to find Troy so I can drag his ass to Iowa in the morning.”

“You and your brother couldn’t be any more different,” I said, searching the floor for my clothes.

“One of the guys told me he got kicked out of his apartment for not paying rent. So if I don’t take him with me, he’ll take up at my place while I’m gone. It’ll be full of beer cans and whores when I get home.”

“No whores allowed in my future husband’s apartment,” I said, hoping to lighten his mood.

“They’ve got nothing on you anyway, baby,” Brady said. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression clouding. “I’m sorry things have been shit lately with me. My dad and my brother and work. And cancelling the honeymoon.”

“We can go another time,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “Keeping your business going is more important.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, his expression serious as he met my eyes.

“Brady, it’s not a big deal.” I stopped to pull my shirt on, unable to have such a serious conversation in only a bra. “The timing isn’t right, and I completely understand.”

His face tightened with disappointment, but he nodded. “I know. I just never imagined being in this situation. I waited until I could take care of you to propose. And now it’s all going to shit.”

I reached up to his broad shoulders, where my hands met rock hard tension.

“We’re gonna be okay,” I said. He nodded again, but was it doubt that flickered across his face? I had an unsettled feeling myself, but surely that was just from stress. When things calmed down, everything would feel right again.