by Addison Cole
Fresh tears filled Brianna’s eyes.
“Sorry, Bree. No pity here.” Kat held her gaze. “Either give it up and tell us what he did that led you to do whatever you did, or I’m walking out that door and I’ll see you at work tomorrow. Did he hurt you? Demand you do something you don’t want to? Is he a control freak? Does he have inappropriate thoughts about Layla?”
“Kat!” Jean snapped.
Brianna leaned against the cold tile wall. Hugh’s sad eyes were seared into her memory. She slid down the wall, wishing she could disappear. She closed her eyes against the fluorescent lights that echoed off the yellow walls—and against her mother and Kat’s disbelieving eyes.
“There are too many what-ifs,” she finally said.
Her mother crouched beside her. “What-ifs?”
Kat paced. “What-ifs. What if he leaves me?” she said in a mocking voice. “What if he doesn’t like me in a year? What if my daughter’s too much for him?”
“They’re real concerns, Kat,” Brianna snapped.
Kat sat on the floor beside her and gently took her hand. “Yes, they are,” she said in a soothing voice. “They are one hundred percent valid concerns.” Kat pressed her lips into a line and brushed Brianna’s hair from where it had stuck to the tears on her cheek. “There are no guarantees, Bree. None. You could decide tomorrow that you don’t want to be a mom anymore.”
Brianna gasped. “I’d never do that.”
“See what you felt right then?” Kat poked Brianna above her heart. “That pain that speared you when I said it?” She paused. “That’s what you did to him.”
“This is my fault.” Her mother let out a loud sigh. “You worry because your dad left and because Layla’s father left. You’ve never trusted men, and I never did anything to teach you otherwise.” Her mother held her other hand.
“That’s not true.” It was one hundred percent true about most men, but she wasn’t going to admit to that weakness. “I do trust Hugh.” I really, truly do. With my life and with Layla’s.
“Then what is this all about?” her mother asked.
“It’s me, Mom.”
Her mother shook her head. “I don’t understand. Are you worried that you’ll change your mind about him?”
“She’s weird, but she’s not crazy,” Kat said.
“No. I love him. I know I do, but how do I make myself not worry? I have all this garbage in my head.” Brianna fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “I think about what could go wrong…”
Kat pushed to her feet. “Okay, so go back to your twelve-year plan, but I don’t see how twelve years will change anything. Some guy will fall in love with you twelve years from now, and you’ll worry that he’ll leave you in a year or six. You’ll just be older with saggy boobs and bigger hips. Layla will be off to college, and…Oh, you know what? Maybe we should just fill your house with cats now instead of later.”
Brianna rose to her feet. “You’re being a jerk.”
“No. I’m a realist, which is what you have always been, but somehow you morphed into a wishy-washy wimp, which I totally don’t get.” Kat crossed her arms, and Brianna did the same.
“It’s like you’re both twelve years old.” Jean looked between the two of them. “Brianna, you need to talk to Hugh. If you really think the what-ifs are too big, then follow your heart and walk away. If you think you can overcome them, then stop hemming and hawing and give this relationship a fair shot—or don’t, but you gotta let him know one way or another. He’s not a college kid, Bree. He’s a man, and a man who seems to be head over heels in love with you and Layla.”
“Tell me how.” The severity of her own voice surprised her. “All I need is to know how to turn off the worries. You’ve seen him. He’s drop-dead gorgeous. If I go to the race and see women all over him, I’ll want to rip their heads off or run away, and which do you think I’ll do?”
“Run away,” her mother and Kat said in unison.
“Exactly.”
“I could come with you and I could rip them off of him. You know I’ll do it.” Kat smiled and fisted her hands.
“Then the real question is, what would make that feeling go away?” her mother said softly. “Because unless you’re dating a dog of a man, you’re going to deal with that anyway.”
“Why are you always the voice of reason, Mom? Can’t you just say, I’m totally with you here, Bree. I get it. It’s messed up, but I see why you’re afraid to face it. That would make me feel better.”
“I did say that, honey. You just didn’t hear me.”
There was a knock at the bathroom door.
They all froze.
“Bree?”
Hugh. “Yeah?”
“Layla’s really tired. Are you almost ready to go?”
Her heart squeezed so tight she thought she might cry again. “Yeah. One sec, please.” Brianna blew out a breath. “I’m going to go home and think about it, and I’ll decide tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Kat raised her eyebrows again.
“Yeah. I can’t think right now.”
Her mother ran her hands up Brianna’s arms. “Honey, he isn’t asking you to marry him. He’s asking you to go watch him race.”
I’m going to make you a bride one day. Brianna nodded. “I know. But everything I do, every step I take, impacts Layla, too. It’s like having a super coupon for dating. I have the power to mess up two lives instead of one. What if I go to the race and realize I can’t watch him be pawed at?”
“You’re so weird,” Kat said. “He’s racing, not pole dancing.”
“I’ve got to tell you, honey. I don’t get it either. When are you worried about him being pawed at? I was so caught up in your hysteria that I didn’t even think about it.” Her mother looked at her expectantly.
“Ugh! I don’t know. I went online and there are all these pictures of him with gorgeous women. He’s near race cars and tracks in some and in others he’s signing autographs.” She watched the two of them exchange an eye roll. “What?”
“Signing autographs?” Kat shook her head. “So you’re worried about what exactly? You’re not worried about him cheating on you? You’re literally worried about him being pawed at?”
“I guess. Yeah. Why are you guys staring at me?”
“Because, Bree, if you trust him, why do you care if women paw at him when he signs autographs? And pictures on the Internet? He’s a big-time racer. Of course he’s going to be photographed with women. Was he cheating on a wife or a girlfriend? Did you read anything about him doing dastardly things?” Kat asked.
“Well, no.” She sighed.
“Bree, you’re pawed at all the time at the tavern. Should he not trust you?” Kat asked.
“See. It is me. I told you.” Ugh. I’m an idiot. “I’m overthinking again.”
“You’re protecting yourself and Layla,” her mother said. “I understand. Go home, think about it, and the right answer will come to you.”
She found Hugh carrying a heavy-lidded Layla on his shoulder.
“Hi, Mom,” Layla said with a yawn.
She put her hand on Layla’s back and kissed her cheek. “Sorry I took so long, princess. I’m sorry, Hugh.”
“That’s okay.” His voice no longer carried the upbeat bravado that it had before Brianna had reached into his chest and pulled his heart out. She cringed at the thought of how she’d hurt him.
The tension in his voice tugged at her heart.
“Let’s wait for your mom and Kat to get their jackets. I don’t want them to walk out alone.”
His compassion tugged her heart in a different direction.
Jean and Kat’s faces were solemn.
“That was a really sweet thing to do,” Jean said to Hugh.
“I think Layla enjoyed it. Thanks again for helping. And, Kat, you were awesome. Thanks.”
Hugh pushed the glass door open and held it for the women to pass through. The second he walked out the door, flashbulbs blasted his eyes. Women called
his name. He held a hand up. “What the—”
“Oh my goodness,” Jean said. She grabbed hold of Brianna’s and Kat’s arm.
Hugh pushed through the crowd, one hand shielding Layla, the other protecting Brianna, Kat, and Jean. “Stay with me,” he said to them.
“Hugh! Can I get your autograph?” a heavyset woman yelled.
“How long are you in town?” a man with a television camera hollered.
Hugh didn’t answer. He continued moving toward the car and pulled Brianna closer, situating himself in front of her mother and Kat.
A beautiful blond woman with enormous breasts and a tighter-than-tight short dress pushed in front of Hugh and Brianna and shoved a pen at Hugh.
“Hugh, can you sign my cleavage?” She somehow managed to sound seductive even with the chaos.
“I don’t think so,” Kat yelled and yanked her away from them. “Told you,” she said to Brianna with a smile.
Hugh unlocked the car and settled Layla into her booster seat. He opened the passenger door while watching Kat and Jean hurry to their cars. The cameramen and fans stuck by Hugh, making an arc around him, shoving papers and taking pictures.
Brianna started to climb in.
“Wait.” He put his arm around her and whispered, “Please do this with me.”
Her mind wasn’t functioning. She wanted to run. Running seemed like a great idea. Only it didn’t. Running away from Hugh seemed like a really stupid idea. Her head nodded, though she didn’t tell it to, and then he faced the cameras with Brianna pressed against his side. She clung to him with one hand on his abs—in her favorite spot, and he felt so good—and the other hand clinging to the back of his slacks. The bright flashbulbs left her seeing spots.
Hugh held up one hand, and Brianna’s eyes adjusted, allowing her to see the group more clearly. There were a handful of women and men, all with hopeful eyes and their arms stretched out toward Hugh. Two men with cameras were either filming or taking pictures; she couldn’t tell which, as the lights were now trained on them. A black van with television station call letters emblazoned across the side was parked at the curb.
Brianna sucked in a breath. Filming? She stood up straighter, feeling totally out of sync with her body, and she looked over Hugh’s shoulder, relieved to see that Hugh had placed himself in front of Layla’s window.
“I’ll answer three questions, and I’ll sign autographs if you don’t approach the car.”
“How long are you in town?” a short man yelled.
“Two more days,” he answered.
“Why did you rent out the theater?” the buxom blonde asked.
Hugh tightened his grip on Brianna, and she watched his dimples appear as he gazed lovingly into her eyes. “To do something special for my girlfriend and her daughter.”
The women in the crowd awwed.
My girlfriend. He’d claimed her. In front of the television camera and strangers, and he’d done it while looking at her in a way that no one could misinterpret—not even Brianna.
“Will you marry me?” a woman yelled from the back of the crowd.
“That’s number three, and I’m already spoken for,” Hugh answered.
The crowd moved forward, and Hugh held up a hand. He opened the door for Brianna. “Thank you,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to her lips. She climbed into the car and watched him work—and control—the crowd like he’d been doing it his whole life.
Pride swelled in her chest, and the twisting ache that had pierced her gut began to ease. He’d taken care of Layla and he’d watched out for her, Jean, and Kat, and he’d done it all on instinct, it seemed.
He claimed me.
In front of the world, he claimed me.
Brianna had no idea if the filming would end up on television or even if it was actual footage or just still pictures, but that was immaterial. What mattered was how Hugh had instantly sprung into action to shield them and what was reconfirmed during the chaos.
He loves me.
Other women don’t matter.
He matters.
We matter.
Chapter Thirty-Five
THEY DROVE TO Brianna’s apartment in silence. Hugh’s stomach had been tied in a knot since their earlier conversation. The crowd outside the theater had pulled the noose a little tighter. He was proud to have Brianna by his side and was surprised when she’d agreed to stay with him instead of hiding in the car. It gave him hope that the look he’d seen in her eye in the theater had been something other than what he feared—that she had thought up some crazy reason to end their relationship. He’d racked his brain the whole time she was in the bathroom with her mother and Kat, and he hadn’t been able to come up with one single thing that rationalized the thought of her breaking up with him.
He parked the car and caught a glimpse of Layla, fast asleep in her booster seat. Brianna looked beautiful with the splash of light from the moon that cut through the window. He reached over and cupped her cheek. Her skin was warm and smooth. She was frustrating, moody, crazy sexy, and sensuous beyond his wildest fantasies, and until just a little while ago, she was all his. He let his hand slide from her cheek with the thought.
“Let’s get Layla to bed,” he whispered.
Upstairs, he laid Layla in her bed and waited in the living room while Brianna changed her into her pajamas and tucked her in. He noticed the copy of Racing magazine that she’d asked for on her counter, and he thought of the first night they’d met and how tough Brianna had acted. She walked into the living room, her black dress swishing against her legs, her bare feet padding softly across the floor. The hardened layers that held her together had been stripped away, revealing the warm, sensitive, and brave woman he’d fallen in love with. She reached for his hand, and without a word, she gave herself over to him, allowing him to pull her down beside him on the couch. Her head rested against his shoulder and her sweet scent enveloped them. He closed his eyes for a moment and just breathed her in, remembering the feel of her body beneath him, the way she closed her eyes when he kissed her, and the sexy little sounds she made. His lips curved up when he thought of her telling him to stop asking if he could kiss her and how cute she looked when she said she was a tramp for spending the night at his house before he even had her telephone number.
He couldn’t imagine a life without her.
He didn’t want to imagine it.
Her lips on his cheek pulled his eyes open.
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes?”
“I wanna go to your race. Me and Layla, and I think Mom will go too.”
Her brown eyes searched his, and he knew he should respond, but his words were trapped against his heart, afraid to come forth lest she changed her mind again.
She furrowed her brow. “Is that still okay?”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “But I need to understand what happened back there.”
She looked down. “I’m sorry. I had a little freak-out moment.”
“Bree, don’t you trust me?” He felt like his heart was in her hands—literally. One wrong move and it’d shatter.
“I do. I really do. I wasn’t sure if I trusted me.”
“I’m sorry, but huh?”
She stared at the floor.
“I need to see your eyes, Bree. Tell me what’s going on. You broke me back there, and I’m not an easily broken man.” He felt raw. Exposed. Vulnerable. What happened to me? One look at beautiful Brianna and he had his answer. I fell in love.
“I was afraid of how I’d react. I might come across as brave, Hugh, but I’m pretty insecure. I’m not a beautiful, buxom blonde. I’m not the life of the party or the sexiest girl around.”
“You’re right. You’re more beautiful than any blonde could ever be, and you’re the sexiest woman around. I’m not looking for a party girl, Bree. Didn’t I make that clear the first night I met you?”
She nodded.
“Bree, I’m not a halfway guy.”
“I know, and I’m not a
halfway girl.”
She moved closer to him, and he pulled her onto his lap. He needed to feel her close, to know he wasn’t losing her.
“I guess my father’s leaving did have a profound effect on me. I worry about it. I worry that no matter how much someone loves me, how much you love me, you might find someone better along the way and Layla and I would get really hurt. But it’s not just you. I think I’d be that way with any man, which is probably why I wasn’t so upset about Layla’s father not wanting to be involved from the beginning. It was easier to be alone than to worry about being abandoned.”
He felt his heart come back together. If Hugh had learned one thing about himself over the past few days, it was that he was capable of love. He knew he was loyal and honest and, without hesitation, he loved Brianna. He’d never abandon her. Before he could reassure her, she continued.
“I was afraid I’d run if I saw women all over you, because running away would be so much easier than being left behind. But then I saw you with those women tonight, and you didn’t give them a second glance. Your entire focus was on our safety. Our feelings.”
“Of course,” he whispered.
“Maybe to normal people it would be a duh moment. An of course moment. To me, it was an awakening.”
She touched his cheek. “You love me,” she said. It wasn’t a question. It was a confirmation.
He closed his eyes for a beat, relishing in the feel of her. “I do. Very much.” Relief eased his shoulders down a little lower.
“And you love Layla.”
“Very much.”
She nodded and pressed her hands against his chest. “Does that happen a lot?”
Her hands stirred a different type of warmth in him. “What?”
“Autographs, cameras.”
“Yes. Sometimes. Someone from the theater must have leaked that I was there. I’m sorry you had to experience that.” He laid his hand on her bare knee.
“I’m not. It helped me realize how silly I was being. I worried so much about Layla getting hurt—about me getting hurt—that I was ready to hide for eighteen years. I can’t hide from what we have, Hugh. Tonight I realized that I don’t want to. And the next time I fall into a what-if stage—and trust me, I will—will you please remind me that I’m being an idiot?”