24. Brodie

brODIE

W hat the hell had he been thinking by turning around and returning to Cambria? If he hadn't, he'd be all the way to San Francisco by now. Instead, he wouldn't get there until well after midnight, which would put a damper on the plans he'd had before his misguided attempt to salvage his relationship with Peyton Wolf.

He watched her walk out of his life. Nine days, start to finish, and yet Brodie didn't think he'd ever get over her.

"Hey, sweetheart. Change of plans." Brodie left a message on Dominique's cell.

As an owner and chef of one of the hottest Michelin-starred restaurants in the city, she wouldn't be answering her phone. Instead, she'd be waiting for him to walk in the door sometime tonight, and he hated disappointing her.

"Got a later start than I anticipated. I'll crash at Kabuki and see you tomorrow, baby."

Brodie and Dominique had history. They'd met when he paid a sales call to her first five-star restaurant, Dom Nom, and had been bed-buddies since. She'd been the one to say they'd never be more than that. She was married to her restaurants, she'd told him then, and he didn't try to sway her into more. She was smart, beautiful, independent, and loved sex. If anyone could get his mind off Peyton, Dominique could.

He was at the turnoff for the highway when he turned around for the second time. There was something he forgot to bring, something he needed. He pulled up to his cottage, went inside, and grabbed the box that still sat on the kitchen table.

He wasn't sure what he'd do with it yet. Maybe he'd throw it off the Golden Gate Bridge and finally close that chapter of Kade's life.

"Hey, brother," Naughton said as he was about to get in the car. "Headed to Peyton's?"

"Nope." Brodie glanced up and saw his ma on the porch.

"Come sit with me, Brodie," she said when he approached.

"I can't, Ma. I wanted to see how you were feeling, but then I have to leave."

"What's happened?"

"Nothing. I rescheduled several sales meetings due to Peyton's son's accident, so I'll be out on the road for a few days." He looked into his mother's eyes. "But if you need me, call, or have Da, Mad, or Naught do it, and I'll come right back. Okay?"

"What about Peyton?"

"She was Kade's girlfriend, Ma. She has her own life, now that he's gone."

"Brodie?"

He leaned down and kissed his mother's cheek. "I'll call from the road."

He checked into the hotel that felt like a second home to him. Nestled in Japantown, Kabuki was a world-away departure from his life in the Paso Robles wine country. Whenever he was in the Bay Area, he booked the same suite. It had a Japanese style, deep soaking tub, en-suite sauna, and king-size bed he and Dominique made good use of.

He had everything off but his jeans when he heard a knock at the door. He opened it without looking to see who it was, and Dominique fell into his arms.

"You don't know how badly I need this." She had her fingers on the button of his jeans before the door closed behind her.

An hour later, she rolled away from him. "What's her name?"

"Dom, don't go there."

"Come on, Brodie. In all the years I've known you, the sex between us has been mind-blowing. We don't talk, Brode. We fuck. I didn't come here to talk."

"It was a long drive?—"

Dominique smiled. "I don't care, Brodie. If you've found someone, I'm happy for you. There is no reason to lie to me. It wasn't the drive that turned you off."

"You didn't turn me off."

"I didn't say I did. I just didn't turn you on."

Brodie rubbed her shoulders, but even that simple act reminded him of having his hands on Peyton.

"I gotta go." Dominique turned and kissed his cheek. "Dinner later?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Thanks."

"Don't thank me. Apologize to me."

When he started to, she put her fingers on his lips. "It was a joke, Brodie. I'm fine. A little sexually frustrated, but fine."

"Dom—"

"Seriously, honey, you don't think you're the only one who knows how to scratch my itch?"

"I know."

"There is a sous-chef at Dom Nom I can't stop thinking about. Maybe it's time I gave him a performance review."

"I'll see you tonight, sweetheart."

"Sit at the bar. There are a few new dishes I want to try out on you. You're still good for eating, right?"

Brodie reached over and swatted her behind. "Watch it."

Dominique laughed and closed the suite door behind her.

He had a full day of meetings ahead of him, but after talking to Dominique most of the night, he needed sleep. He checked his phone. Six in the morning, no messages, no texts. If he was lucky, he'd sleep two or three hours without dreaming about Peyton.

"Go home." Dominique stood behind Brodie and rubbed his shoulders. "And by home, I don't mean the hotel."

"I can't. I'm in the valley tomorrow, and then in Mendocino on Saturday."

"How far north are you runnin'?"

"Oregon. Maybe Washington."

Dominique sat next to him at the bar. "Brodie, go home. Talk to her."

"It's over, sweetheart." He hated the sound of his own voice.

"It isn't."

"You talk to her or somethin'?" he asked.

"Now, there's an idea."

"Dom—"

"I'm kidding. Can you imagine? ‘Hi, Peyton. This is Dominique, the woman whose bed Brodie ran to when you dumped him…'"

He wouldn't say it out loud, but she was right. He wanted to go home. Not to a hotel, and not to the ranch. He wanted to go home to Peyton. How he could feel this way after a little over a week with her and yet not sink into the comfort of a woman he'd known for years, he didn't understand.

"You're a mess."

"Thanks."

"I know I've been teasing you, Brodie. But I'm not anymore. I'm serious. Go talk to her. I've known you a long time, and I've never seen you like this. You're in love with her."

"Do you not remember anything we talked about last night? She was with Kade, Dominique. She actually told me I'd never measure up to him."

"My guess is that's not what she meant."

"I was there. You weren't. I didn't misunderstand." Brodie stood and threw some money on the bar. "See ya, Dominique."

"Don't leave in a huff."

"I'm not. I don't feel like talking about it anymore. I'll be in touch." He didn't slam the door on his way out, but he thought about it.

He wasn't mad at Dominique. She only wanted the best for him. He was mad at Kade. If Kade hadn't been involved with Peyton, if he hadn't died, Brodie wouldn't be feeling as though he was breaking in two again, like he did when his dad called to tell him his oldest brother was gone. The heartache he felt was different, but it hurt equally as bad.