by Zoe Dawson
Her eyes pleading with me, she spread out her hand in a beseeching gesture, “I have nothing to hold me back in this, but I won’t stand by again and have my life amble off course because I of duty and obligations and expectations. I did that once and almost lost myself and you. This will be good for both of us.”
“River,” I said, my voice breaking. “There’s nothing good about you being far away from me.”
Tears caught in her lashes, and she abruptly wiped them away, her unhappiness slicing at me. She folded her arms and turned sideways, staring at the horizon, her profile edgy. Finally, she spoke, her voice careful, controlled. “I didn’t say it was going to be easy.”
“That’s a damn understatement, sugar,” I growled. Inside the house, my cell rang, and I knew who was on the other end of the line.
My goddamned, nosy, meddling brothers.
I was desperate to talk to them. But we weren’t finished.
A disquieting feeling settled in my gut. I hadn’t expected this to happen, not after everything we’d been through. Her expression grew more somber, and I knew what the knot in my gut was about. It was a feeling I was knew damn well. The sense that I’d probably just made the worst mistake of my life.
No matter how unbelievable it had been with her, this parting was not going to be a quick fix. Experiencing an acid rush in my belly, I stepped closer, but didn’t touch her, determined not to think about getting sucked back into the old crap—not right now. Now was reserved to tend to River’s needs. I would break myself in two to be the man she called her own.
River stirred beside me as my cell rang again. I rubbed my hand up her arm. Tightening my arm around her, I watched her for a moment, feeling as if everything was closing in on me, and I didn’t know why.
She murmured my name, and I experienced a hollow sensation in the pit of my stomach. She turned toward me and there was an instant—just an instant—when I saw her need, and that made everything just a bit better. Then I saw a flash of uncertainty, of apprehension, and it hit me that she wasn’t sure about anything.
Despite my reservation about her leaving me to sort out my head, I couldn’t let her think that offering marriage was off the table or not going to happen. Experiencing a sharp, clenching pain in my chest, I caught her against me.
She nestled her head tightly in the hollow of my throat while I tried to think of some way to reassure her. River was always so strong. “I love you, deeply, to my soul, River. I promise you I’ll work this out, and everything will be all right. Do you trust me?” I cupped her angel face and tipped it up to mine, wiping her cheek with my thumb. She was wearing the wing earrings, and that bolstered me for some sappy reason. Geezus, this girl hand turned me into nothing but mush.
“Yes, with everything I am,” she said, and I kissed her temple.
It took a while, but I finally felt her relax, and I was able to ease my hold on her. When I withdrew, she exhaled unevenly and looked up at me. Longing in her expression and the way she still clung to me made my gut churn.
“Do you want me to drive you to the airport?” I forced a smile, my voice husky when I spoke.
“Jake is taking me.” She closed her eyes and turned her face against my neck, and I felt her take a deep, uneven breath. I sensed again how vulnerable she was, and I gave her a light squeeze. The sound of a car broke the silence.
One thing was for sure; this wasn’t goodbye.
Jake got out of the car, and she drew a deep breath, as if bracing herself, then slowly withdrew from my hold.
“Hey, sis. Brax,” Jake said, eyeing us. It wasn’t lost on him that his sister had been crying.
“Pop the trunk,” I said, keeping my arm around her while we went down the stairs. I grabbed the handle of her suitcase and she picked up her purse and carry-on. He got back in the car and shut the door.
I walked with her to the back of the car and let go of her as I set her luggage in the back. She turned to me. Gripping the sides of my T-shirt, she let go a tremulous breath. She whispered, “Examine your past. Your dad, your mom, my family…Earl…all of it. Don’t leave any stone unturned to get to the root. Because I want you to be one hundred percent sure. My family is going to go crazy when I get married. It’s a fact we’re going to have to weather. If we’re fracturing, or not sure or dealing with stuff from our pasts, we’re not going to make it. It will be stressful because they have expectations. I’m their only daughter and I’m a Sutton. Not only does my family expect I’ll get married in a grand fashion, but the town expects it, too.”
“Our marriage isn’t anyone’s business.” I held her just as tightly. Then I stroked her cheek with my knuckles and said, my voice very husky, “but I know that won’t matter.”
“Exactly. I know that and you know that. But be realistic. It’s going to be a three-ring circus, and my momma will be the ringmaster. I’ll guarantee you that.”
Not quite ready to let go of her, I held her hand while we walked to the passenger door. Every step we took, her hand got tighter, and the tightness in my chest grew.
I stared at her for a moment, then dropped my mouth to hers. Her breath caught, but she yielded to the pressure of my lips against hers, deepening the kiss with slow, lazy thoroughness. Working my mouth softly, slowly against hers, I drank from her, probing the moist recesses, savoring the taste of her. Her breath caught again; her response a little desperate.
I broke the kiss and pressed my forehead to hers, “Go,” I said, softly. “Before I am unable to let you.”
She stared at me an instant longer, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. Then she pulled open the car door and got inside.
I headed for the stairs, not willing to watch her leave, feeling as if my lungs were shutting down on me.
I was relieved this was now out in the open. I had to let her go.
I just hoped like hell it wasn’t for good.
Chapter Five
RIVER PEARL
It was official. I was a hot mess. By the time the plane touched down at JFK, I wanted to turn around and go back. Jake had argued that I should stay, thinking that giving Braxton space instead of talking to him was counterproductive. He’d heard the rumors and guessed that he hadn’t proposed.
Maybe I shouldn’t have left Brax when he was struggling? Was this a mistake I would regret? Would I lose him because I made an error in judgment?
On the flight from New Orleans, I had plenty of time to think about what I was doing and rethink it. Leaving him had been the right choice ping ponged to Oh, God am I an idiot?
I felt totally confident this wasn’t about me. In the sense that what was holding him back didn’t have to do with me. It had to do with him.
In this case, the saying, “It’s not you. It’s me,” fit.
Knowing it didn’t really help, because holding this information about my pregnancy back from everyone was taking its toll.
We had done something miraculous together, something beautiful and genuine. We loved each other so much, and this baby was the result. Brax would never turn away from his own child. I wasn’t worried about that. I just didn’t want him to think I was being manipulative like my momma.
That made me pause while I stood in the wide busy, hall leading from the gate to the interior of the airport.
I should have confided in Verity. She would have understood, and even Aubree, but my panic and fear were struggling against my complete joy over carrying Brax’s child. For some reason I needed to keep it secret from everyone. I wasn’t sure why.
Verity did insist that I contact Minnie and stay with her while I was in New York. I originally planned to be alone, but being with other women had a calming effect. Especially Minnie, who was so lovely and so much like me. I gave in.
My cell rang, and there she was, British accent and all.
“Love, have you landed?”
“Only just.”
“Great timing. Nip over to the baggage claim and I’ll do another whirl.”
“All rig
ht, see you shortly.”
As soon as I got my baggage, I went to the exit that led to the street and followed the sign for passenger pickup. It had been busy downstairs, but at street level it was utter chaos with cabs and shuttles.
Then I spotted Minnie behind the wheel of a cute powder blue sports car. Waving, I made my way to the curb as Minnie pulled up.
After I was settled inside, we hugged quickly.
“It’s so good to see you,” Minnie said, before she pulled out into traffic. “What brings you to New York?”
“I’m posing for Jean Claude Malveaux.”
Minnie gave me a wry side look. “Isn’t he that wonderful portrait painter?”
“He’s the one.”
Minnie arched a brow and smiled. “The gorgeous nude portrait painter?”
“Yes,” I said nodding. “Also him.”
“And Brax knows you’re doing this.”
And then it hit me. We had been so caught up in our discussion about me leaving and why, I hadn’t mentioned what I would be doing.
“Not exactly. I didn’t get a chance—” I broke off abruptly when I saw the rock on Minnie’s left hand, ring finger, where it gripped the wheel.
I looked at her and then back at the ring. “Minnie? Are you and Deke engaged?”
Her eyes danced with joy. “He asked me last night, and it was so wonderful. He took me to the roof and had this amazing dinner prepared and then he asked me.” She gushed, then said, “All of you will come for the wedding, won’t you? I feel you’re all family, and we would be honored to have you there.”
I swallowed hard. “Of course we’ll come. We wouldn’t miss it.” I tried to tamp down the pain of my failed proposal. This wasn’t about me. This was about Minnie. Even as my throat got thick, Minnie spoke again.
“Emmie and Travis, friends of Deke’s, also got engaged last week. We’re going to look at gowns tomorrow and would love for you to join us. I plan to design my own and would love to also do Emmie’s, but she wants to get some idea what’s out there. Say you’ll join us. We would love to have you.”
I groaned inwardly, but put a bright smile on my face. “Oh, my God, how exciting. Count me in.”
She reached over and squeezed my hand, the joy on her face so addicting it made me smile, too. I was genuinely happy for her.
When we got to her penthouse, my heart skipped a beat and started to throb. Scattered across her dining room table were bride magazines, swatches of fabric, and hastily-done sketches.
A dark-haired girl with black rimmed geek glasses was drinking a cup of coffee. She turned at the sound of our entrance. “Hi,” she said coming into the living room and smiling. She held out her hand. “I’m Emmie Harp, a good friend of Deke’s. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“It’s great to meet you. How fun that you two are engaged at the same time.”
“I know. Totally synced up. I’m incredibly excited that Minnie is going to design my wedding gown.”
I fell into the conversation easily, hoping my expression gave nothing away, but I was envious of their happiness and contentment. Why was that missing with Brax? What had happened to bring us to this point in our relationship? That stupid timeline.
After about ten minutes of gushing over everything, I stepped away and called Brax. He answered on the first ring.
“Hey, sugar.”
“I’m here safe.”
“Are you doing okay? I’m so sorry…I let you down.”
“Brax. You didn’t let me down.”
“It feels that way. I’ll get this figured out. I promise.”
“I know you will.”
“I forgot to ask you what you’re doing in New York if it’s not for gallery business.”
“It’s sort of is. I’m posing for a portrait by Jean Claude Malveaux.”
“The stud artist guy you’re showing next month? The one who does the nudes?”
I felt an inner glow ignite inside me. Brax wasn’t big on art or the art scene, even though he worked tirelessly over Christmas to help me with the installations and even gave up being Santa for Boone, which made me melt inside again. He loved my art, but it just wasn’t his thing. The fact that he not only was listening when I talked and but also knew something about what I was talking about bolstered me. “That’s pretty good recall for a subject you’re not too keen on, there, huckleberry.”
“Who you calling a huckleberry, sugar? I listen to you when you talk. As for this Jean Claude, I want to break him in two.”
“Brax. There’s nothing sexual about posing for him. It’s art.”
“It is fucking sexual. Your body is a work of art. How could any man not want you after seeing you like that?” he said, his voice husky. “But I trust you, River. You’d never hurt me that way.”
“No, it’s my goal in life never to hurt you, ever.”
“That’s a nice goal. I’ll try hard to reciprocate.”
“I love you, Braxton. Is this a mistake? This distance…maybe I should just—”
“Come home. Yeah, I want that, but I also think this isn’t a bad thing. It’ll give me some time to miss you and—wow, look at that—it’s working already. I need to work out some stuff, and I have two brothers breathing down my neck, ready to help, so I’m good. Not as good as I am with you here, but good.”
“Brax, please. No moonshine boxing. I don’t want to see your face bruised. I gave Jake hell all the way to the airport.”
He chuckled. “I know why you don’t like seeing me after a fight.”
“Why? Could it be because I don’t want you hurt?”
“No, I know you don’t. It comes from our past. I showed up at school plenty of times with black eyes and split lips. It reminds you of what I had to endure when I was growing up.”
“Braxton, you always surprise me. I didn’t even realize that’s why I feel so uncomfortable when I see you…like that.”
“I love you, too, River. Stay safe.”
After I hung up, I realized he hadn’t promised not to drunk box. Well, how could I fight against an Outlaw tradition? And I wanted to book a flight home. I missed him already.
The next day I posed for Jean Claude wearing the angel earrings from Brax, and asked him to show them in the portrait. He was the perfect gentleman. I was used to being in almost nothing when I modeled, and in some of my shoots I had been practically naked. I wasn’t self-conscious about it. My body was at its peak, and I wasn’t one of those girls who worried about how I looked, but once I had this baby, my body would never be the same. It would be good to have a reminder of what I looked like before pregnancy. But I had trouble waiting for him to finish the portrait, because it would mean the week was over and I could go home.
I would have to stand up to Brax and resolve our issues. I couldn’t let it just happen to me like I had in my past. It would kill me. I would lose Brax, and if that was the case, I might as well be dead.
The rest of the week Minnie and Emmie lived, breathed, and ate weddings. It was hard to be around them, but I was determined to keep everything in perspective. It didn’t mean Brax and I wouldn’t be tying the knot. We were just going through a tough patch.
I don’t know if it was the darn pregnancy hormones, but on the last day, after I finished posing and Jean Claude showed me the portrait, I started to cry.
For the first time in my life I saw the strong angles of my face and my body through someone else’s eyes. I was beautiful, but that wasn’t what made me cry. It was that I was strong. I had overcome so much to be with Brax. Now, deep down inside me, I was terrified of falling back into my old way of dealing with things. I wasn’t going to let anyone run roughshod over me again. Not even my own fears. My family obligations, their expectations, and my devotion to duty could go to hell. I would tell Braxton about this child as soon as I got home. To hell with the fallout. We would deal with this together.
He patted my shoulder.
“I want this painting, Jean Claude. Name your price. And
of course, you would be welcome to borrow it for exhibits once in a while.”
“Truly, chérie? You will not mind allowing me to exhibit it on occasion? If this is the case, the painting is yours. There is no charge for the privilege of painting you. Take it with my blessing. I will have it shipped to you once it is completely dry and ready for travel.”
I went back to Minnie’s penthouse, and that’s when it happened. They were talking about where to have their weddings, their happiness so full and beautiful and out there, I burst into tears. Minnie came running over to me, Emmie on her heels. Everything poured out of me, and both women were so sweet.
“You should have told us right away, River. How hard it must have been for you with us going on and on about how happy we were while you were going through this by yourself.”
I shrugged, feeling very raw. “I didn’t want to ruin your celebration. I’m leaving in the morning to tell Brax about the pregnancy and about how I feel.”
I was ready to take this on. No more hiding or secrets between us. We were done with that. Forever.
Because that’s how long we would last.
Chapter Six
BRAXTON
The first morning I woke up without River was disorienting. It took me a minute to realize she wasn’t next to me. Desolation paled in comparison to how I felt at that moment. It was a precursor to what I would feel for the rest of my life if I didn’t get my shit together and figure out what was wrong. I would die inside if she ended up leaving me because I couldn’t get to the root of this evil that kept me from proposing.
She should have been here sleeping beside me, but instead I’d driven her away. Yesterday I had to endure twenty questions from my disappointed and sympathetic brothers. My cheek hurt from drunk boxing, but instead of results, all I got was pain. It was nothing to the pain in my heart.
Trying to stay detached from my roiling emotions. I couldn’t figure out why right now, but I was pretty shaky, feeling as if my foundations had been rattled, as if my whole life was coming down to this decision, and I was failing. But that was my problem to deal with, not hers.