Return to Me Read online

  PROLOGUE

  What if you lost the love of your life, and they came back to you? Would you know how to grab ahold of a second chance – and make it work?

  Zeke did, and he wouldn't screw it up this time.

  . . .

  "It can't be; my eyes are playing tricks on me … Brooke Lakelyn Tobias. That really is you!"

  At the use of her full name, which very few people knew, Brooke turned. She was thinking the same thing, It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. She'd know that deep baritone anywhere.

  Zeke Laird Granger.

  He'd broken her heart five years ago, and had nearly broken her. She hadn't experienced a searing pain like that since – and vowed she never would again.

  . . .

  "Our timing is just not right, Brooke."

  "But I love you, Zeke," she said, blinking back tears and trying to swallow past the lump in her throat. "I love you so much. We can find a way; if two people really love each other, they can always find a way. Please, please, just …" she begged.

  "I'm sorry. I just can't do this right now. I think it's best we just go our separate ways, Brooke."

  Tears coming in rivers, Brooke felt like her heart was going to explode.

  The sun streamed through the windows of her fourth-floor apartment. It was a beautiful fall day in New York City. But all she felt was darkness, as black as the bowels of hell.

  "Zeke please, please don't do this!"

  He had to listen. He couldn't leave. He just couldn't. The three years they'd spent together had been the happiest of her young life.

  Brooke had automatically assumed that they'd one day get married, although she wasn't one of those women who dreamed of her wedding day. In fact, she never gave much thought to getting married. The only time she thought of it is when yet another one of her friends or his friends tied the knot.

  Brooke was just happy just to share her life Zeke, to wake up next to him almost every day. And she thought he felt the same way. She didn't know how she was going to survive without him.

  In spite of hear tearful pleas, Zeke walked to the front door of her apartment, opened it and walked out of her life.

  He didn't even look back, she thought through gulping sobs. Not once.

  Brooke crumbled down the inside of the front door of the apartment, her body pooled in the fetal position on the floor. Heaving, animal-like moans escaped her until there were no tears left. There was nothing left.

  Three hours later, eyes swollen and throat parched, she'd dragged herself up from the floor, took a sip of water from the kitchen sink and climbed into bed – where she stayed for the next three days.

  . . .

  Every time she relived that day, Brooke was embarrassed. She'd been a sniveling, begging, broken shell of a woman. No one in her life today would have recognized the person she was five years ago. She barely recognized that person.

  "Well what brings you back to the Big Apple?" Zeke asked, snapping her reverie, as if nothing had happened between them five years ago.

  "Of all the gym joints, in all the boroughs, in all of New York City, she walks into mine," he continued, playing on the infamous line from Casablanca.

  One of the things that Brooke had always loved about Zeke was his sense of humor. She could never stay mad at him because he kept her in stitches most of the time. But, he also knew when to turn it off and get serious. It was a rare combination she found intoxicating.

  She'd never met a man who had such a powerful hold on her. To underscore the point, her mind flitted to a time they'd made a date for the movies and he tried to sneak up on her. She'd arrived a few minutes early and was waiting for him in front of the theatre.

  Obviously, he spotted her and tried to sneak up on her from behind. Before he could, she turned and said, "Zeke Granger, are you trying to sneak upon me?"

  "How'd you know it was me?" he said, curious how she'd thwarted his covert attack.

  "I smelled you coming, baby. I know your scent. I could pick you out of a thousand men, blindfolded – and it has nothing to do with any cologne you wear, which you don’t do often. That's how in tune I am with you Mr. Granger," she'd said.

  "If you can pick me out of all the piss and garbage in this crowded city, then 'hot damn!' I guess I better hold onto you little lady," he'd said, planting a kiss on her nose and grabbing her hand as they headed to the ticket booth.

  . . .

  Damn she was more beautiful than ever! he thought. She'd let her hair grow out. The last time he'd seen her, she was wearing a short, Halle Berry-like style.

  Brooke had the kind of face that could pull off short or long hairstyles. He preferred it longer though. An exercise enthusiast, her body was always in perfect shape. Her best asset, in his opinion, was her perfectly curved bottom.

  He never tired of looking at it, and as they always slept in the nude when they were together, he would admire it as she bounced out of bed each morning to begin her morning toilette.

  . . .

  His nature starting to rise at the turn his thoughts took, Zeke forced his mind back to the conversation at hand, saying, "Well, what brings you back to New York? Are you here to stay, or just visiting?"

  Was that a flicker of pain in those captivating, dark-brown, doe-shaped eyes? If it was, he had a shot because it meant he still had an effect on her. He desperately wanted a chance to erase that pain.

  Answering, she said, "I'm back for good. LA just wasn't my scene."

  "I knew it when I heard you left. You're a New York City kind of girl Brooke; I just couldn't picture you in LA."

  I can't believe he has the balls to stand here and have a conversation with me like nothing happened. Doesn't he know he almost destroyed me?

  "… Sooooo, speaking of scenes, how about we check out some in the greatest city in the world sometime?" Zeke said, feeling he might be pushing his luck, but anxious not to let her go without knowing when he'd see her again.

  Manhattan, where the gym they were in was located, was a relatively small city, at just over 13 miles. But, it had over one and a half million inhabitants and this didn't include outer boroughs like Brooklyn, Queens and Long Island, which residents fanned out to via subways, buses and taxis. It was easy to lose someone and not run into them again – forever – in New York City. Zeke was not about to let that happen. Not with Brooke.

  Did he just ask me out? Brooke thought. The unmitigated gall of the man!

  It took all of Brooke's resolve to carry on a civil conversation with Zeke. It had been five years since they'd seen each other, but now that she was back in his presence, it seemed like five minutes. She was shaken by how quickly and forcefully all the pain he'd caused her came rushing back.

  But she wasn't the naïve little 25-year-old she'd been then. She'd learned a thing or two about relationships since he'd broken her heart all those years ago. And now was the perfect time to put that knowledge to use.

  "Sure, Zeke. Why not," Brooke responded, hoping he didn't hear the tautness in her voice. Two can play this game, she thought. He's interested and that puts the ball squarely in my court this go round. Zeke Granger would pay dearly for the pain he'd caused her five years ago.

  While Brooke plotted revenge, Zeke had a different plan in mind altogether.

  He'd hurt her badly. It had nearly destroyed him too. But now that she was back in the same city, he vowed he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. He would win her back … and this time it would be for keeps.

  Can his love overcome the revenge she seeks, or will the scar left by Zeke's betrayal prevent them from ever having a future together?

  Chapter 1: Reconnecting

  Dear Lord, give me the strength I need to work out today, Brooke prayed as she threw one sore leg over the side of the
bed. She'd been training hard for an upcoming marathon. Between running one to two hours a day and shooting exercise videos to upload to her YouTube channel three to four days a week, she was exhausted.

  The #2 train sailed into the station. Damn, I shoulda just walked the 18 blocks, she thought as she felt an elbow in her back from the crush of rush-hour passengers squeezing themselves into an already packed subway car.

  In today's rush we all think too much, seek too much, want too much and forget about the joy of just Being.~Eckhart Tolle

  Remember this quote from one of her favorite books, A New Earth, Awakening to Your Life's Purpose, Brooke smiled. Even in this madness, I can choose to 'just be,' she thought. And besides, it's New York … what better place to just be!

  Even though Manhattan was dirty, smelly, crowded and noisy, Brooke didn't want to be any place else. She loved this city with a passion that bordered on madness. Having spent the last five years in Los Angeles, she was glad to be back and vowed she'd never leave it again.

  Like coming back to an old, familiar lover, there was a comfort level; a rightness; a peacefulness to living in this madness that, ironically, calmed her. It was where she belonged.

  Holding onto the metal hook that hung from the roof of the subway car, Brooke swayed to the rhythmic movement of the 'iron beast,' her nickname for the railway cars.

  Yeah, it's good to be back!

  Drowning in newfound appreciation for being back where she belonged, Brooke took the stairs two at a time when she exited the subway to the street above. She was growing excited about her workout.

  She'd moved back to her old neighborhood, Hell's Kitchen. Situated on Manhattan's west side between 34th and 59th streets, it was about the most diverse 25 blocks in the city. In her 10-unit apartment building alone there were Puerto Ricans, Indians, Jews and African Americans.

  Nowadays, Hell's Kitchen had more upscale restaurants, boutiques and coffee shops than she cared for. She'd moved to the neighborhood when she first came to the city as a fresh-faced, 22-year-old college graduate almost 8 years ago. Back then, the local hookers, pimps and drug dealers were the norm.

  In fact, on the day she was moving into her apartment, the street was blocked off because there'd been a robbery and the police had cornered the crook in a building down the street.

  "Are you sure you wanna live here?" her girlfriend had said as she dug out her lease to show to the policemen so they'd let her behind the barricade to continue moving her stuff into her apartment.

  Those were the good ole days, she reminisced.

  Now you practically couldn't go a block without encountering a Starbucks, a fancy juice bar, or a trendy new restaurant. While the neighborhood had become a bit to "shiny, new and Disney-like" for her, she did appreciate quick access to everything from yoga classes to the ability to get a 2 a.m. snack.

  One of the reasons she'd moved back to her old stomping grounds was because it was just a few stops on the subway to her favorite gym, No Excuses Workouts, which she'd joined online before she even left LA. On the express train, she could be there in less than 15 minutes.

  As a virtual workout instructor, she didn't have time for gyms that catered to what she called the 'weekend workout warriors.' Her body was her living, and at No Excuses Workouts, that's just what you got – a workout that left little room for excuses.

  There was no waiting for machines because someone was on their cell phone, using the equipment to sit and talk.

  There was always someone ready, willing and able to 'spot' you on the weightlifting machines.

  The gym was packed with equipment meant for users who wanted to maximize their workouts – even if it you just wanted to get in just a little 20-minute power session.

  And the gym wasn't used as a pick-up joint, like many all over the city. Many of its members were into fitness on a professional level, eg, body building, boxing, trainers to elite clients like actors and professional athletes. Hence, they came to really work out; not socialize.

  Because of this, the male to female ratio was high – approximately four men for every female, but Brooke didn't mind. In fact, she quite preferred it as seeing how hard some of them worked out made her push herself that much more.

  Even in body-conscious LA, Brooke hadn't found a gym she loved as much as she loved No Excuses. So when she decided to head back to New York, it was one of the first things she did – renew her membership.

  Even though she'd been back in the city for a week, today was her first day back in the gym. Between unpacking, blogging and shooting videos for her online fitness channel on YouTube -- and ordering new furniture and getting it set up -- the last five days had flown by.

  No more Ikea furniture; you need to practically be an engineer to that stuff together! she thought, as she felt the soreness in her arms.

  She'd had quite the workout the last couple of days struggling to remove pieces she'd bought from the outlet in New Jersey from boxes and put them together.

  I'm not your lover

  I'm not your friend

  I am something that you'll never comprehend

  No need 2 worry

  No need 2 cry

  I'm your messiah and you're the reason why

  'Cuz U - I would die 4 u, yeah

  Darling if u want me 2

  U - I would die 4 u

  The words to Prince's "I Would Die 4 U" blared as Brooke squeezed out one more set of 15 reps on the ab machine.

  Even though she was a fitness instructor, she hated ab workouts as much as many of her community of online followers did. But it was a must. As long as you keep a tight core, many other sins of the body could be forgiven, she reminded herself over and over again as she barreled through the burning pain in her mid-section.

  You're just a sinner I am told … Prince was crooning in her ear.

  The left ear bud fell out of place as she whirled around, startled at feeling a light tap on her shoulder and hearing the sound of her name.

  "It can't be; my eyes are playing tricks on me … Brooke Lakelyn Tobias. That really is you!"

  No, no, no, no, no … it can't be; it just can't, she thought.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Brooke opened them again, hoping against hope that the person standing in front of her was just a mirage. But she wasn't so lucky.

  Standing before her very own eyes was the one and only Zeke Laird Granger – all 6 feet 2 inches of him -- the man who'd broken her heart five years ago and drove her from the city she loved so much.

  . . .

  The workout uniform remained the same she noted, from head to toe. Under armour black, loose workout pants with a drawstring, and a black, sleeveless t-shirt which showed Zeke's "guns" to perfection. Black, Adidas PowerLift trainers on his feet completed the ensemble.

  She remembered his workout partner ribbing him one day, saying, "Man you really need to stop lying about how much you don't work on those things." His arms had always been one of his best assets. He was conscious of not getting them too big, so only worked on them one or two days a week.

  One of the things that she'd so loved about Zeke was how unassuming he was about his body's perfection. Whereas many men in the gym dressed to showcase their bodies, Zeke was different. Nothing tight, shiny or flashy for him. His workout wardrobe consisted mainly of black, grey and navy pants and t-shirts; mostly in loose cotton or nylon.

  She remembered the first time she'd seen him nude. "You really have been hiding the goods, Mr. Granger," she'd said as he lowered his body to hers.

  His body was perfection personified. Wide, muscled shoulders led to a perfectly defined, flat stomach; which was shaped in the form of a V leading to a well-endowed shaft of manhood, the size of which shocked her at first glance.

  Powerful, column-like thighs were supported by toned legs with "just the right amount of definition" calves. Even his feet were athletically, beautifully shaped.

  And five years later, it was as if time had stood still. Zeke was still easily the sexi
est man she'd ever met – and in the la la land that was LA, which was full of some of the most gorgeous male creatures on earth – that was saying a lot.

  His intense maleness hit her like a boulder … right in the pit of her stomach, releasing a flood of memories she'd neatly packed away years ago.

  Chapter 2: Meeting Zeke

  Eight Years Earlier

  Brooke leaned against the side of the building and tilted the subway map to the right. She hoped she was counting the stops right. She hadn't quite gotten the hang of reading the darn thing.

  Directions had never been her strong suit and she wanted to be sure she got off at the right stop, otherwise she'd have to get off and take the train in the other direction and she had no desire to try to navigate the iron beast in two directions in one night.