Searching For Love – the Bradens & Montgomerys (Pleasant Hill – Oak Falls)

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Searching For Love – the Bradens & Montgomerys (Pleasant Hill – Oak Falls) Page 7

by Melissa Foster


  “Gross!”

  “He was big, too.” Birdie drew out the word big. “When Sasha told him he’d jerked off to her knees, he got so mad. It was freaking hilarious. But then my brothers found out. I’ve never heard them so mad at her.” She gave a little shrug and showed Carly the picture.

  Sure enough, Birdie’s black lace bra cupping Carly’s knees looked just like cleavage. “Birdie, this is awesome.”

  “Right?” she said proudly. “Your guy gets his jollies, and nobody has blackmail pictures of your body.”

  “This feels wrong on so many levels, but I kind of love it.” Carly gave Birdie her bra and thumbed out a text to Zev while her friend put herself back together.

  THE LABORATORY WHERE Zev was going to work on the concretions was part of the Real DEAL (Discover, Experience, Appreciate, Learn), a total immersion exploratory park for kids that included educational exhibits and hands-on activities, located on the border of Weston and Allure. The park, which was still under construction, was the brainchild of Zev’s cousin Dane, a shark tagger and the founder of the Brave Foundation, which used education and innovative advocacy programs to protect sharks, and in a broader sense, the world’s oceans. After living on a boat for years, Dane had moved his wife and son back to Weston, Colorado, to be closer to their families. Dane’s brother Hugh, a professional race car driver, and their brother-in-law, Jack Remington, a survivalist, had both jumped on board with the endeavor, just as Noah had, greatly expanding Dane’s original vision from the exploration of marine life to include several other disciplines.

  Noah was giving Zev—and Bandit—a tour of the facility. Zev wasn’t used to having a dog at his heels, but Beau had asked him to bring Bandit on as many outings as he could to keep the dog from getting lonely. Bandit had a history of stealing things when he was left alone, and Zev had experienced his thievery firsthand that morning when Bandit had stolen his towel while he was showering, leaving him to dry himself off with a frilly little hand towel.

  “This place is going to be incredible,” Zev said as they left the building that would house the aquarium and headed into the survivalist area. “Thanks for letting me bring Bandit.” Bandit, with his thick black fur and ever-present red bandanna tied around his neck, trotted happily beside him, looking up every few steps. He had a white stripe down the center of his snout, and Zev had to admit, he was a damn cute thief.

  Noah ruffled Bandit’s fur and said, “Bandit and I are good buddies. Beau brings him everywhere.” Noah was a few years younger than Zev. As a marine biologist, he spent his time at sea or in a laboratory. He sported a year-round tan and his sandy-brown hair always looked windswept, as if he’d just stepped off his boat. As they walked into another building, he said, “Jack is going to have interactive survivalist exhibits here, and that hallway connects us to the mini racetrack that Hugh is setting up.”

  Zev followed him down the hallway. From what Zev had already seen, he was sure the Real DEAL was going to be something people came from all over to experience. “It’s hard to believe all of this started with Dane and Lacy’s idea to build a small aquarium and a few educational exhibits.”

  “When have you ever known a Braden project to stay small? Dane and I worked together on a number of expeditions these last few years. When he mentioned the idea of the park, I jumped at the chance to join him. I figured it was a great use of my inheritance. I’m pumped that I’ll be educating kids about marine life, and I’m working on collaborating with a local college for use of our lab. They want me to hold lectures and that kind of thing.”

  “That’s great. I know you said you’ll be teaching kids about marine life, but have you considered marine and land archaeological exhibits? When I was a kid, we went to an archaeological museum, and that’s when I knew I wanted to explore. I was so pumped about the idea of finding history, I used to dream about it.”

  “Used to?” Noah arched a brow. “Dude, you told me that you’ve wanted to find the Pride since you were a kid.”

  “You got me there.” Although his dreams of exploring had been pushed to the side the day he’d left Pleasant Hill, and he’d replaced them with dreams about Carly. Thoughts of her had only increased his desire to find their ship. “I saw a documentary about it when I was in third grade. We were studying pirates, and that stuck with me.” He and Carly had been in the same class, and from that moment on, the Pride had gone to the top of their one-day list—the list of things they wanted to do together, like a bucket list. They’d later added other places they wanted to explore and things they wanted to do, like getting matching tattoos, cliff diving, surfing, and dozens of other things.

  “Sounds to me like maybe you should think about partnering with us. You could teach kids about shipwrecks and treasure hunting, what happens to things when they get lost at sea.” Noah nudged his arm and said, “You could spark interest for future treasure hunters.”

  Zev shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I’m not great at staying in one place, and hopefully I’ll be unearthing treasures from the Pride for years to come. But I really appreciate you letting me work here this week.”

  “I’m happy to. I’ll be in and out during the day doing some research now that my lab is up and running. It’ll be nice to have company.”

  Bandit trotted happily next to Zev as they made their way through more buildings.

  When they headed across the grounds toward the laboratory, Zev said, “How are you handling being landlocked?” Like Zev, Noah was usually on the move. They had connected a few times during their travels over the years, and Zev had never pegged him for the kind of guy to settle down in one place.

  “It’s taken some getting used to, but I’m not done with the sea. That’d be like being done with women.” Noah cocked a grin. “I saw you talking to the cute blonde who catered the desserts at the wedding. Anything happening there? If not, I heard she’s got a chocolate shop in Allure. I might have to wander over there for a taste.”

  “Her name’s Carly. She and I have a lot of history, so how about you dip your banana in someone else’s chocolate?” Zev had been reliving Carly’s kisses, the sound of her voice, the feel of her hands since he’d left last night. If he had it his way, soon they’d be enjoying a lot more than just kisses, and his would be the only lips doing any tasting.

  Noah clapped Zev on the back as they entered the laboratory and said, “Sure thing, dude. Come on. I’ll show you where I put your tools.”

  Zev followed him past an impressive array of marine tanks and work areas to two basins in which the two concretions were stored in a caustic solution to keep them from drying out and to protect the artifacts. Marine concretions formed in all shapes and sizes, ranging from minuscule to weighing several tons. These concretions were roughly twelve and eighteen inches in length and weighed about fifteen and thirty pounds. The tools Zev had shipped were set up on a worktable just to the left. “This is perfect. Thanks, man.”

  His phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw Carly’s name in a message bubble. When they were younger, Carly would never have sent an X-rated selfie. He didn’t think that had changed, but he’d had to push her buttons and remind her of all the fun they’d had together, because despite her refusal to send dirty selfies, he knew she’d loved getting the request as much as he’d enjoyed getting a rise out of her.

  He opened the message, and his body heated up at the cleavage shot she’d sent.

  Noah glanced over Zev’s shoulder and whistled. “Damn. Is that from Carly?”

  As Zev said, “Yeah, back off,” he recognized a tiny scar that he knew was located just above her left knee and stifled a laugh. That’s my clever girl. Good to see you’re not completely done with me. He’d never forget the night she’d gotten that scar. They’d been in the Pleasant Hill Archaeology Club together throughout middle and high school. The summer between their junior and senior year, they’d gone on a weeklong dig with the club and had snuck out of their tents to hook up by the river. They’d
been taking off their clothes when Carly’s foot had gotten caught in her pants. She’d fallen and landed on a rock, slicing into her leg so deep, she’d needed stitches. He’d felt terrible about her getting hurt, but nothing could have stopped them from seeing each other every minute they were able, and the next night, when he’d snuck out to see her, he’d held on to her every second.

  “Chicks usually wait weeks before sending body shots,” Noah said, pulling Zev from his thoughts. “You move fast, dude.”

  Zev didn’t have much time before he was heading back out to sea, and he wasn’t wasting a second of it tiptoeing around the woman he’d once thought he could get over. Not only was there no getting over Carly Dylan, but he had no fucking idea how he’d leave at the end of the week and go on with his life if she couldn’t open her heart to him again.

  He pocketed his phone and said, “Only with her, man. Only with her.”

  Chapter Six

  BIRDIE HELD THE basket of cereal as Carly locked the shop Monday night. Her stomach had been in knots all day. After she’d sent the text to Zev with the fake cleavage shot, he’d messaged, I’d know those legs anywhere. It had taken only a minute of looking more closely at the picture for her to see the scar and realize her mistake. She’d already texted to thank him for the basket of cereal, to which he’d responded, I dare you to take a bite. He’d added a devil emoji and then texted, Now I’ve got your number with a winking emoji. He was so sneaky!

  “Have you heard from Zev since he outed you on the picture?” Birdie asked.

  Carly took the basket from her and said, “Nope.”

  “That’s a lot of disappointment in one little word. This doesn’t have to be the end of your sexy-texty game. You could text him, you know. Flirting is not a one-way street.”

  “There’s a lot more to it, Birdie. I am disappointed, but I’m also mad at myself for being disappointed, which makes me royally confused. Why can’t I just leave well enough alone? You hear about people saying they’re over their exes all the time. Why can’t I be one of them?”

  “Because you’re not over him.”

  “I am.” The words tasted bitter and untrue.

  “I’m not buying it, Carly.”

  “Fine. Maybe I’m not over him, but I know where we’ll end up if I text him. I’ll just get hurt. His life isn’t here, Birdie. It’s out at sea or exploring some distant land. He’s never going to stay put, and I’m not the same girl I was. I don’t want that anymore.”

  Birdie put her hand on her hip and said, “You don’t want what? That life? Or him? Because you were singing into a spatula a few hours ago, and now you look like you want to crawl under a blanket and eat a pound of ice cream. I don’t think you know what you want.”

  “I hate that I can’t pull the wool over your eyes.”

  “You can’t pull it over your own eyes, either.” Birdie fished in her purse for her car keys and said, “Look, you told me how in love you two used to be, and yeah, he broke your heart. But you said you haven’t seen him since he broke up with you a hundred years ago. Aren’t you at all curious about what could happen between you? Or about what he’s been up to? Don’t you want to give him hell for breaking up with you? I mean, if I were you, I would want to do all of those things and kiss him some more. Definitely kiss him. A lot.”

  Carly huffed out a breath. “Don’t you think I want to kiss him? I want to do all those things you mentioned. But it’s hard, and it’s scary, and I know what’ll be between us. Last night when we kissed…” She sighed and looked up at the sky, shaking her head. “Those were the best kisses I’ve ever had. Even better than when we were young, which I didn’t think could ever be surpassed.”

  “Then you should have kept kissing and let this thing play out. Who cares if it’s scary? It’s better than letting him leave town and not having said your piece. My mom always says that unspoken words can kill a relationship faster than the skeletons they might let out of the closet.” Birdie’s mother, Wynnie, was Marie’s sister. She was a licensed psychologist and she’d helped Carly through the worst of times when she’d first moved to Colorado.

  “I love your mom, but why can’t shrinks ever say anything like Let it be?”

  “What fun would that be? Want to know what I say?”

  Carly shrugged. “Sure.”

  “That man knows you in ways I doubt anyone else does, and you know where he’s staying. Go see him. And don’t sweat it if you’re late in the morning. I’ll come in early just in case.” Birdie looked at the basket of cereal and said, “And if it doesn’t go well, you can drown your sorrows in Lucky Charms and Froot Loops.” She giggled and said, “I love you, and I will always have your back. I’ll celebrate your happiness or pull you out of your sadness.” She walked backward toward her car and said, “But for the record, I’m pulling for a little under-the-covers treasure hunting!”

  Me too.

  But wanting and doing are two very different things.

  Carly stood in front of the shop remembering all of the things she’d thought about saying to Zev if she ever got the chance. Maybe Birdie had a point. He was staying at the inn, which wasn’t that far from Allure, and she knew the inn was closed until Beau and Charlotte returned from their honeymoon. Charlotte had told her that Zev’s family had only planned on staying until Sunday morning, and that Zev had been the only one who had time to watch the animals for them. Zev, the guy who almost never went home to visit, had agreed to give up a week of his time for Beau.

  I guess guilt is a powerful motivator.

  She always wondered if he’d felt guilty for taking Beau out and getting drunk with him the night Tory had been killed. Memories of the next evening and their painful breakup came rushing back. Zev had paced like a caged animal, hands fisted, anger and sadness warring in his eyes, his every word spat like a curse. Tory’s death fucked me up and I can’t deal with it. How can I expect you to? He’d been so unlike the carefree Zev she’d known, hollering about being guilty and broken, hardened to her every plea. They’d argued for what had felt like an hour, but in reality had been much less. She’d said she’d deal with anything for him, but he’d looked her dead in the eyes, with tears in his own, muscles corded, the veins in his neck plumped like snakes, as he’d said, That’s why I’m leaving, because you shouldn’t have to. As he’d walked away, her pleas to take her with him fell on deaf ears. She’d felt her heart shatter as her last words tumbled from her mouth, tears flooding her cheeks. Zevy! If you can walk away from me, then you never loved me. He’d turned with tears in his eyes and said, You’re wrong, Carls. I’m walking away because I love you. She’d never seen anyone so anxious, angry, and sad all at once, until the next morning when she’d found the note taped to her window. You are and will always be the very air that I breathe, the only treasure to my empty chest. Forever yours, Z. She’d run the three blocks to his house, but in her heart she’d known he’d already left, and when she’d gotten there, her worst fears confirmed, she’d collapsed to her knees in the Bradens’ yard.

  Tears welled in her eyes with the memory. She swiped them away, wondering if he’d ever felt guilty for leaving her. She doubted it, since he’d never reached out to her, which hurt and pissed her off even more. He should feel guilty. He should kiss her freaking feet for breaking her heart the way he had.

  She strode toward her truck. She was going to see him at the inn, and she would tell him exactly how she felt.

  There was an envelope stuck under the windshield wiper. She set the basket on the hood and snagged the envelope, silently chastising her stupid heart for hoping it was from Zev as she tore it open and read it. I dare you to meet me tonight. If you don’t show up by eight o’clock, I’ll take the hint and leave you be.

  He’d drawn a map with no street names, only landmarks, like they used to draw. There was a giant X at the end of the line. At the bottom of the paper was an arrow. She quickly flipped it over and read the back.

  We both know I won’t leave you be. But
I know we need to talk and I promise to adhere to our five-foot rule. No touching, no kissing. Just talking (if that’s what you want). Z

  She and Zev had come up with the idea of staying five feet apart when they were teenagers and their connection had been so fierce they’d ended up making out every time one of them wanted to talk. She put the basket of cereal on the bench seat and settled in behind the wheel of her aunt’s old pickup truck, and she realized Zev’s note had washed away her steely resolve to give him hell.

  A girl could get whiplash from this roller coaster of emotions.

  She started the engine, and as she drove out of the parking lot, she knew it wouldn’t matter if she was smiling over his note or not; the hurt he’d caused had come out last night when they were kissing. It would definitely show up again. She just had to give it the chance and face him.

  ZEV HAD TRAVELED the world with little more than a backpack. He’d sailed through treacherous storms and come across more dangerous situations than any one man ever should. And yet, as he paced beneath the umbrella of a large tree in Serenity Park, he could remember only a handful of times when he’d been even close to this nervous, each of them revolving around Carly. The first time he’d kissed her, he’d worried he was doing it wrong. The first time he’d felt her up, he’d been afraid she’d swat him away. The first time they’d had sex, he’d been so nervous he could barely breathe. But until now, nothing had come close to the crushing anxiety he’d felt after Tory’s death, when he’d known he needed to get away from her, from Pleasant Hill. Hell, from himself if that were possible.

  Trepidation stacked up inside him. What if she didn’t show? What if he’d come across as too cocky by asking for that sexy text? What if their instant and intense connection when they’d kissed had scared her off? What if she’d expected him to act more remorseful from the get-go? Fuck. He’d tried to find a balance in those moments before he’d first approached her, but there was no balance without forgiveness. There was only survival or falling to his knees, and he wasn’t going to make a scene at the wedding. When he’d gone to her shop to apologize and had seen her with another fucking cowboy, jealousy had taken hold, and he’d wanted only to win her back.

 

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