Brother to Brother: The Sacred Brotherhood Book I (17 page)

“I can’t believe you packed so much meaning into these rings,” I murmured, and she had. Archer’s wedding band was plain silver by all outside appearances, but inside? Inside the band, she had etched tiny musical notes, to remind him of me and my name, Melody. She’d explained that she knew Archer was a private man, which is why she’d etched the inside rather than the outside of the band.

“Of course,” she murmured, and squeezed me back.

We ate a catered dinner, the bare electric lightbulbs coming on closer to dusk to illuminate the inside of the tent. At one point, Archer presented me with his rag, a vest crafted in my size, declaring me his property. I got emotional again then, the vest, more than any ring or ceremony, tAelling me how deeply his commitment ran where I was concerned. Not Noah, but me...

Finally, Dragon got up and announced our first dance and Archer surprised me once again, taking me into his arms as if I truly belonged there, no question, no hesitation. He danced with me, our first song as a couple
‘Strangers in the Night’
by Frank Sinatra and I thought to myself someone had a sense of humor.

He kept his eyes on mine, his face unreadable, and I searched his, wondering, and not for the first time either, what he had going on behind that inscrutable gaze. I was surprised to find that I was disappointed when the song ended. That I wouldn’t have minded staying right where I was.

Dragon cut in, and danced the next song with me. The one traditionally reserved for the father of the bride but considering I had no father, just a stepfather who loathed me, and I him right back, this was a fair substitute; and Dragon was a gentleman. All of the brothers were, and the more time I spent with this chapter, the more
wrong
the Arizona chapter seemed to me.

My last dance of the evening was with my son, Noah. The photographer expertly capturing images I knew I was likely to cherish forever. It was growing on towards full night when Archer took me gently aside.

“We need to get going if we’re gonna make it while it’s still night,” he murmured.

“Oh,” I said. Noah was asleep against my shoulder, and Nox was just suddenly there, standing by ready to take him. I didn’t want to let him go. I didn’t want to leave my baby for a whole three days, it just didn’t seem right. I hadn’t left him for more than eight hours since he’d been conceived… I worried he would be afraid, I didn’t want him to be scared, and I certainly didn’t want him to feel as if I’d abandoned him.

“Melody, he’ll be just fine, let Nox have ‘im,” Archer said and his tone was as gentle as I’d ever heard it. I reluctantly passed my son into his uncle’s arms.

“You call me for
anything
, Nox. Promise me,” I demanded, my eyes brimming with tears.

“I will, Mamma, I promise. He’s gonna be fine… he’ll have a total blast I promise. We’ll facetime you tomorrow and you’ll see.”

I nodded and Nox took my sleeping child over to another group of the brothers and their ol’ ladies.

“Come on, Baby, “Archer murmured and with a final fleeting look in my son’s direction I let him lead me to his room in the club’s outbuilding that was full of them. He ushered me through the door.

“Get changed so we can ride,” he said and I nodded staring at the leathers and my ‘property of’ cut lying on the bed waiting for me. My riding boots were even there, lined neatly with one another on the floor. The door shushed shut behind me and I swiftly changed. I was scared of what experiences lay beyond the ride I was about to take, but thankfully, the ride was supposed to be a long one, about four hours or so. I always felt cleansed after a long ride and I hadn’t gotten to ride since the short one I’d taken with Dragon to see Grinder.

When I stepped out into the hallway it was to find Archer changed and ready to go, his saddlebags packed and over his shoulder. I hadn’t had to do a thing. The other ol’ladies had done literally everything for me. Archer looked a touch put out and I asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Feels weird not packing my own bags,” he said.

“I guess that’s one of my jobs now,” I murmured.

“Yeah, at least you’ll listen to me,” he griped.

I frowned, “What didn’t they listen to you about?”

“Packed some of the wedding gifts, I said they could wait.”

“Some of them
were
meant for our honeymoon,” I said gently.

“Don’t need nothin’ for our honeymoon but me and you,” he countered and I softened a bit.

“I would really like to go for a ride with my husband,” I murmured and Archer cracked a small smile at that.

“Yeah, well I’d really like to take my ol’ lady for a ride,” he said. I arched an eyebrow at him and his smile grew.

“Did you mean for that to sound as dirty as it came out?” I asked.

“You know it, Honey.”

Oh boy,
I didn’t quite know what to do with a version of Archer who joked. It was a totally new concept for me.

I followed him out to where his bike was parked by the tent full of guests, the music from the DJ’s stand stopped and everyone gathered around while Archer put his saddle bags back on his bike. He got on and patted the seat behind him after starting up his bike. I got on to a round of rowdy cheering and whistling that was quickly left behind us and whipped away by the wind.

I loved to ride,
and the ride to wherever we were going was definitely on my list of top ten rides I had ever taken. The wind was a living being that cleansed me of many of my misgivings. The road rushing beneath the tires my priest, as I silently dropped and confessed my sins, leaving them behind me. Archer was a solid warmth, my arms around his solid, rock hard waist as we moved through the warm night taking swoops and curves that made me feel alive again and not like I was simply going through the motions.

It didn’t seem like it was a four hour ride. Honestly, it felt like we’d only been on the bike for minutes. He motioned for me to get off, which I did and he backed into a space in front of the great old lodge’s front porch and shut off the motorcycle. No sooner had the rumbling of his engine ceased, than the front door of the lodge swept open, letting out a rich, warm, golden glow.

“Are you Archer?” an older, portly woman asked. Her long, iron hair swept into two braids on either side of her head. She was short, and her eyes were in a perpetual squint as she smiled at us.

“Yeah, I’m Archer,” he answered.

“Oh, good! I’m Contessa; José said you’d be coming. Congratulations to the both of you!” she cried excitedly and swept me into a quick squeeze of a hug in her excitement.

“Thank you,” I said laughing lightly. Archer, in the meantime, had hauled his leather saddlebags up onto his shoulder.

“Everything’s in order then?” he asked and Contessa beamed at him.

“Absolutely! You’re in the honeymoon cabin, do you know where that is?”

Archer nodded, “That I do.”

“Great! Here’s the key,” she handed him a key with an old fashioned brass hotel key tag attached to it. “Breakfast is at nine, here in the lodge, lunch is at one, and dinner is at six. Would you like me to send someone to get you at meal times?”

“That’d be good, yeah. Might lose track of time,” he cleared his throat and I felt my mouth go a little dry.

“Would you like to walk around or come through the lodge?” Contessa asked, motioning to the open front door.

“I think we’re fine, I know the way. Come on, Mel,” he held out his hand to me and I took the few steps toward him and took it. It was warm, his hands rough from the work he did with them on the regular.

“Have a good night, sleep well!” Contessa called after us, waving. I waved back at her over my shoulder and slid a bit on some loose gravel. I yipped in surprise and laughed and paid more attention to where I was going after that, following Archer down a steep, winding path towards a glimmer of what looked like water through the trees.

I held tightly to Archer’s hand in the close dark, the sounds of crickets and somewhere an owl, very different from the rap music and general disorder surrounding the apartment. This was a welcome respite from the noise of a more urban setting.

We followed the winding path to a small, squat stone cabin that looked like something out of a fairy tale. The windows glowed with muted golden light, and Archer used the key to unlock the front door. He let us in to a very modern, very swank single bedroom, one other doorway leading into a bathroom and another standing open to a small closet.

He held the door open for me and murmured my name softly. I shook myself as if waking from a dream, and stepped past him, over the threshold onto a square, slate entryway.

A fireplace burned cheery in the stone fireplace and the bed took up the center of the room, which was odd placement but made sense when you realized that it
was
a pretty small room and it was to give the fireplace full advantage as well as all the little white tables and chests with candles on them the opportunity to do their thing. There was no electric lighting in the bedroom, it was all candles or oil lamp sconces on the walls. It was beautiful, and I didn’t want to track dirt from outside onto the plush, cream carpet studded with white rose petals, so I stopped to take off my boots right there on the easily swept slate.

Archer looked down at what I was doing and tossed the saddlebags to the bed, leaning down to pull off his boots on the marble as well. I hated socks with no boots, in fact, if I could run around barefoot
all
the time, I would, so I stripped those off as well before stepping into the white foam that was just as soft as it looked.

“It’s beautiful in here,” I murmured and Archer made a noise of agreement. He went past me into the room and dug into one of the saddlebags, turning around with a wooden box in his hands that looked suspiciously like Rush’s work, though simple in design.

“It was a long ride, why don’t you take this and use it?” he said, and I frowned in confusion. My curiosity got the better of me though, and I took the box, releasing the little metal hasp and opening it up to an assortment of bath products and a folded note.

Hey Melody!

You should take
some
time on this trip for yourself and relax! We hear the honeymoon suite has a killer bathtub. Feel free to lock Archer out and take some ‘me’ time.

The Ol’ Ladies.

I chuckled and handed the note to Archer who read it and frowned saying, “Better not lock me out, it’s my honeymoon too.”

I stilled and nodded, and thought to myself,
it’s probably not his idea of a good time being ball and chained to me, either.
I wondered briefly what else we were going to do over the three whole days we had here, because sex couldn’t and wouldn’t be the totality of our stay… I mean, would it?

“Go on, it was a long ride, take a hot soak and try to relax. I’ll put the rest of this stuff away.” I looked up startled out of my deep thinking and tried a smile, nodding, and headed for the bathroom a few paces away.

I stopped in the door way and said, “Hey Archer,” he looked in my direction, back over his shoulder, “Thank you for a lovely first dance,” and I meant it. It had probably been one of the most perfect parts of my day.

“You’re welcome,” he said, and in a lower, husky voice that sounded like a closely held secret he told me, “I liked it too.”

I softened marginally, and with a slight nod, took myself into the bathroom with my little wooden treasure-trove of a box. What I saw stopped me cold. It was like a fairytale in here too. The room was tiny, and the ceiling low, but instead of feeling claustrophobic it felt
right
; nice and homey and it was
definitely
beautiful.

The back wall, as you came through the door, was white with heavy brown wooden cross beams. The Tudor style is what I believed it was called, at least when it was the same effect on the
outside
of the building. I didn’t know if it rang true for interiors as well.

There was a copper, yes
copper
, bathtub on a raised little platform against that back wall, the spigots for it coming out of the wall above it along the side, rather than to one end. The tub was big enough for two, and deep. Raised at both ends, and longer than your more modern bathtubs, which for me meant that I’d found the Holy Grail amongst women. A bath that I not only would fully fit in to, but that my boobs, stomach and knees would all be covered by the water at the same time.

There was a little table next to one end of the bath with an oil lamp burning on one corner. I gave the knob on it a little twist to raise the wick and the light level and admired the flickering flame inside the hurricane glass. I plugged the bottom of the tub with the little stopper on the chain and sat on the edge while I twisted the handles to get the water going, ensuring the temperature was just the other side of too hot for me. I didn’t want it to cool too quickly.

I unwrapped a large bath bomb from the little wooden box and dropped it into the water, smiling to myself at both the heavenly aroma as well as the fact that it turned the water a milky white as it fizzed and fell apart.

One of the worst parts of this endeavor for me would be seeing the disappointment or revulsion on Archer’s face when it came to my nude body. While I’d worked hard to regain my figure from before Noah’s birth, there was only so much I could do. The scar from the cesarean not only remained, but my stomach, no matter how many sit ups and crunches I did, remained stubbornly flabby like a deflated balloon. What’s worse? The stretch marks from having carried my son remained deep, pink furrows in my skin, wrinkled and less than attractive by anyone’s standards, mine being at the top of the list.

I made it a point to keep my stomach hidden for just that reason and self-consciously checked over my shoulder before I undressed, relieved that Archer’s back was turned and that he was making himself busy with unpacking and putting things away, which I found a little odd considering our short stay.

I folded my leathers carefully and set them on a bench below the lone round window facing out into the woods at the back of the little cottage. I stepped into the bath quickly even though it was a touch too hot and sank into the water to my chest.