The waiter comes over, and Brayden and I each order a steak special for dinner. I’m relieved that I can feel my slight buzz wearing off already even though I haven’t eaten yet. Just leaving the bar seems to have sobered me up. And I’ve always loved steak. Phillip only eats red meat on occasion; I’ve learned to seriously curb my carnivore tendencies since we moved in together.
“I’ve been wanting to try this place,” I say to Brayden. “Thanks for suggesting it.”
“Sure. I saw it as soon as it opened, but I never had an occasion to eat here.”
I take a sip of my water.
“Leleila,” Brayden says in a careful tone. “We need to talk.”
I keep hold of the water glass in my hand, staring down at the clear liquid. “That’s the first time I’ve seen him since I was sixteen,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry you were there.”
“I’m not,” he says. “But I hate seeing you upset. I want to help.”
“I know he can’t hurt me,” I say. “I just don’t want to dredge up old memories. He got kicked out of school shortly after the party and left town to go to a private school somewhere in Colorado. Then he played football for a big college in the south and even made the pros.” I raise my gaze to meet his. “After it happened, but before he got kicked out, I went to the school counselor and told her I was going to report him.”
“Let me guess.” Brayden’s blue eyes darken angrily. “She advised you not to. Said his football career would be over, and what happened wasn’t really that bad.”
I inhale. “That’s scary how close to the mark you are. She said nearly those exact same words. She added that my reputation would be ruined; that it didn’t matter what he did or did not do; no one would believe me. And without any evidence…”
Brayden reaches over and drops his warm, heavy hand over mine. Tears clog my throat, and I fight them back.
“I was a kid,” I say with a shrug that I hope deflects from how affected I am. “I believed her. I like to think that as an adult, I wouldn’t listen to her. But the fact is that in court, my story probably wouldn’t hold up. I had no witnesses to what went on inside that bedroom.”
“I saw…” Brayden starts to say.
But I shake my head. “You saw a guy knocked on the floor. Sure, I had a cut on my cheek, but he could have claimed self-defense. He could have claimed anything at all, and without an eyewitness, it would have been my word against his. Maybe if I’d gone to the police straightaway, but even then…” I pause. “Noah has a lot of connections in this town. To the PD, to the mayor, you name it. His family’s been around for generations.”
Brayden rubs my hand. “I’m sorry you had to see him tonight.”
“I was lucky,” I say honestly. “I escaped, and he disappeared from my life. Him being expelled from school for dealing drugs felt like nothing short of a miracle. He’s one of those guys who always seemed like he could get away with anything.”
Something flickers behind Brayden’s eyes.
I open my mouth to ask him what he’s thinking, but before I can, the server comes by with our meals.
And we both settle in to eat.
Eating is a nice respite from the heavy conversation, and the steak is delicious. The tension from running into Noah starts to subside, and I smile at Brayden.
“So what happened with your plans?” he asks me in a curious tone. “The PhD and all?”
I tell him about my data, about how Gerry said my heart wasn’t in it, how I thought it was perfectly clear, and how Phillip swore up and down that I’d pass for sure.
“It sounds dumb when I talk about it out loud like this,” I say. “It’s not life and death, and I’m beyond lucky to have had the opportunity at all. It’s just a diploma, but for some reason, it felt like my whole future rested on it, like Phillip and I wouldn’t…” I trail off before I finish the sentence with, “like Phillip and I wouldn’t make it if I failed.”
Brayden clears his throat and shifts direction. “So you had big plans once you got your degree? You’re gonna save the world, too—make your parents proud?”
I take a bite of steak and look away from him as I chew it. “I used to think so. But right now, I’d be happy just having a clear plan of what to do next.”
“Maybe you’re too focused on the PhD,” Brayden suggests as he finishes his meal. “You should do something you enjoy for a bit and see what happens.”
“You enjoy working on the ranch? And coaching football?”
“I don’t want to do anything else,” he says. “What about you? You have a talent for painting for sure.”
I tell him acrylics and oils were always my favorites. “But when I went to Montana Art Supplies and purchased supplies for Big Sky Grocer, I thought maybe I’d get some paints for myself so I could work at home. It was so overwhelming I just walked out.”
“I’ll go with you if you want,” he offers.
“You know about paints?” I say with a smile.
“Not a thing,” he says. “But you obviously do. Maybe you just need a friend there.”
My throat constricts, and I fight the emotion back. Because Brayden is a friend. More of a friend than I’m used to and more than I ever imagined I could find in a man. I don’t know why God would put someone like Brayden into my path just to have it all end in a few short weeks.
“Yeah?” he says, raising his hand for the check. “We’ll stop there now.”
I glance at my phone. Phillip still hasn’t texted. “I don’t have much time.”
“This will just take a few extra minutes,” Brayden says. “Then I’ll drop you home.”
Brayden has his credit card out and has handed it to the server before I can blink.
“Thank you for the dinner,” I say sincerely. “I’ll treat next time.”
He smiles at me, and it lights up his whole face. “You feeling better?”
I nod. “Definitely. I think I just needed to unwind before I go home. In general, I’m not a social person; I hardly ever go out to a party or a bar.”
“Even when you were younger?”
“Not really. I tended to avoid high school parties after...” I cut off. “And college was more of the same.”
My face heats as I remember my college roommate freshman year. Marnie went out five nights a week and called me uptight and boring behind my back. I told myself I had a boyfriend, that I didn’t need to socialize like all those girls who just went out to get drunk and try to hook up, but her words hurt me nonetheless. Phillip was off at Princeton, and I was alone in Colorado.
“Were you with someone in college?” Brayden asks.
I notice he doesn’t ask me if I was with Phillip— just if I was with someone.
“Yes.”
June was constantly surprised that Phillip and I stayed together through those four years apart. Every Christmas break when I came home, she would greet me with, “Did you guys break up yet?”
Then Phillip returned to Mountainview, and I did too, and while he was spending all those years obtaining his PhD, I was working toward mine as well. He finished early, and I was by his side, holding his hand through the all-nighters, editing his thesis and sitting in the front row as he delivered it. We knew getting married before he finished school made no sense, but then we delayed a bit longer until he was granted tenure and we had the security. Breaking up was never on the table, not in our conversations and not in my head. Whether or not it was in my heart, I can only guess.
I shrug. “I know the percentage for couples staying together through four years of college when they’re at different schools is probably nil, but I’m kind of weird, I guess.”
“Maybe you just like beating the odds,” Brayden suggests.
Maybe. Or maybe I just didn’t know any better.
The art store parking lot is nearly empty when Brayden pulls his truck into a spot.
“Maybe they’re closed,” I say. “I don’t want to go to the front door and have them just wave me away. That�
�s always awkward.”
“This type of place usually stays open pretty late,” Brayden says as we step out of the truck.
Sure enough, the store’s open. We walk inside, and I practically drag Brayden down the aisles, waving away a male employee who calls out to ask if we need help.
We reach the paint supplies aisle, and I reach out impulsively and touch his arm. “Thank you for coming here with me.”
He puts his hand on my hair gently. For a moment, he almost looks like he’s going to kiss my head. But he doesn’t. Instead, he turns quickly toward the shelves of paints and brushes and asks me what I’m thinking of starting with.
We’ve just left the store with a bag of paints, brushes, and some canvases when Phillip texts that he’s home.
And I feel ready to face him.
I’m going to tell him what happened to me twelve years ago. Instinctively, I know it’s partially why I’ve had such issues in the bedroom, and maybe by sharing my story, it will help us to figure out a solution.
As we head across the parking lot for Brayden’s truck, I say, “Your cousins are really nice. And Jasalie and Bella too. Jasalie even invited me to her wedding renewal.”
Brayden slows up, nearly coming to a stop. “She what?”
“It surprised me too.” I let out a quick laugh. “She’s really welcoming.”
“She can be.” His lip twitches. “If she doesn’t like you, look out. She’s very loyal, and she keeps a small circle of people around her.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Not at all. I love her. She and Dylan are really perfect for each other. We were all worried he’d never find someone who didn’t give a shit about his fame or his money, and then he met Jasalie.”
“It sounds like a fairytale romance.”
“It was in a way.” Brayden’s gaze turns serious as he looks at me. “If you want to go to her and Dylan’s wedding, you’re absolutely welcome. Don’t feel awkward because of me. I didn’t mean to make it feel weird.”
“I know. But I hardly know her.” Plus, I’m pretty sure Jasalie was trying to play hopeful matchmaker between Brayden and me.
He starts walking faster again, and when we reach his truck, he unlocks it and holds the door while I climb in. Our eyes catch and hold as I’m fixing my dress so I don’t flash him, and a spark of current zips between us.
Brayden freezes with his hand on the door, and time stops as we stare at each other in the silent, otherwise-empty parking lot.
This is a moment I would have killed for were I single. This is one of those first “I think I really do like you as much as I hoped I would and actually much more” moments, and yet I can’t go home and dance around my room about it.
Brayden and I are so different. But he looks perfect to me. And he makes me feel like I could be perfect for him too.
I reach for my seat belt, and the moment snaps. Brayden backs up and shuts my door and then walks around to the driver’s side.
He starts the truck and pulls out of the lot before he speaks again.
“I didn’t tell them you were engaged because I didn’t tell them about you at all,” he says to me.
Ouch. “That’s okay. I understand.”
“That sounded shitty.” He runs his hand through his hair, looking agitated. “What I meant was I’m typically a very private person. To be honest, you’re the first woman in my life that any of them have met. Well, since high school when I was around Dyl and Colt every day.”
My lips part. “Wow.”
A quick nod is his only response.
“I’m sorry if running into me tonight made things awkward then,” I say. “It seemed like you kind of wanted to rush me out of there at the end.”
“I did.” His jaw tightens. “I heard you talking to Bella and Jasalie about your fiancé, and I knew they’d never let up on the gas. And once my cousins overheard? Those two are unstoppable when it comes to digging for any clues. They would have wanted to know everything, and I didn’t want to put you through that. Our history of how we met—yours and mine—is…unusual, and it’s none of their business.”
“I get it.” This conversation has taken a completely awkward turn, and the chemistry between us is simmering at a level far beyond simple attraction. Brayden’s gaze is hot as he glances over at me while he’s driving, and I have to squeeze my thighs together to maintain any sort of composure.
We reach my house, and I step out quickly and wave goodbye. As Phillip lets me inside the house, I look back once. Brayden’s truck is just disappearing around the corner.
Chapter Fourteen
“Lei!” Phillip kisses my cheek as I step inside the foyer. “How was your night?”
“It was okay,” I look up into his eyes. “Listen, I need to talk to you.”
“Hi, Leleila.”
I jump at the female voice and turn to see a pretty woman with a face that’s so familiar I do a double-take. It takes me a minute to realize why: she looks exactly like Phillip but in female form. It’s actually shocking.
“Mindy, this is my fiancée, Leleila.” Phillip smiles broadly. “Leleila, this is Dr. Mindy Cox.”
She’s wearing a wrap-around black skirt that falls to the floor and a thick white Irish sweater with a dark turtleneck underneath. Her hair is worn down and falls to about her shoulders. It’s thin, straight hair, like Phillip’s, and the same color brown. Her eyes are what strike me the most. They’re not only the same color as Phillip’s. They’re set back in her face the same way, and they have that same lifeless look his often have, especially after he’s been working a lot. Her eyes look so tired and have such dark circles underneath them I almost ask her if she’s okay.
She shakes my hand and smiles. I smile back, but my chest tightens as we stand across from each other.
“What’s going on?” I say politely.
“Mindy needs help with her research,” Phillip explains. “I drove her here from the university so she could take a look at my specimen.”
I don’t want to touch that sentence.
Phillip’s still smiling. I can’t remember the last time he was this genuinely enthusiastic about something.
He heads for his microscope. “Mindy, come sit here.” He pats the seat next to him on the couch, the exact spot where I usually sit with him when he works. “It will just take a moment to get my specimen set up.”
Oh my God. It’s like porn for scientists. I go into the kitchen and make myself a cup of chamomile tea. I feel rude not offering a cup to Mindy or Phillip, so I go back out to the living room.
“Does anyone want some tea?”
Mindy shakes her head no, but Phillip’s so wrapped up in his specimen he doesn’t even hear me come into the room. And when he does finally notice me, he barely reacts before going back to the microscope.
“Sorry, honey,” he says with his left eye trained on the lens. “This specimen’s fresh, so it’s best if we work with it now.”
“Don’t let me interrupt you.” I return to the kitchen and take a seat on one of the bar stools at the counter. I stare out the dark window aimlessly for what seems like forever although, in reality, it’s probably only about fifteen minutes.
Then I hear talking. Enthusiastic, animated talking that I tune out as fast as I can. I do not want to hear any more talk about specimens.
“Lei! Are you in there?”
I get off the stool and walk into the living room. “I’m right here.”
“Great.” Phillip looks at Mindy, and they smile widely at each other.
When he turns back to me, it almost feels like he has to force his head to rotate in my direction because he doesn’t want to stop looking at Mindy. I can see it clearly in his expression—he doesn’t want to stop staring into her eyes.
“Mindy and I were going to go grab a drink before we call it a night,” Phillip says to me.
“I love that vegan restaurant that serves Kombucha tea.” Mindy turns to me politely. “Would you like to join us
?”
I close my eyes. Maybe when I re-open them, Phillip and Mindy will have disappeared to their kombucha restaurant, and I’ll be left here alone. But when I open my eyes, they’re both still here, waiting for my answer.
“I’m not thirsty,” I say lamely. “Why don’t you two go? Phillip, I’ll see you when you get back.”
As soon as they walk out the door, all the tension that had been festering inside the house goes with them.
I decide to air-dry the soil samples I gathered this afternoon so I can get a quick look at them under Phillip’s scope once they’re ready.
I call Sophia, hoping to catch her before she goes to bed. No answer. She probably spent the night with Slammer, and I’ll hear from her tomorrow with details I don’t want to know.
I feel so down I sit at the computer and email my parents. I don’t know what possesses me to do it; the chances of them writing back are next to nil. But I miss my mother right now, and I’d love to know when they’re coming home.
As soon as I hit send, I feel so restless I think I may go out of my mind. I walk around the house in a circle for over five minutes, finally flopping down on the living room floor in exhaustion. I lie on my back and realize, from this angle, I can see the stars through the window. I relax into the carpet, grabbing my afghan off the sofa to put over me.
I remember lying on Brayden’s rug with him the other day and how easy it felt to be with him. I close my eyes and breathe, giving myself permission to be still in a way I never have.
Something about tonight has me all sorts of wired, and I’m desperate for a way to relax. I slip my hand inside my pants, and I don’t hold back from making myself feel good. I can’t stop the unbidden fantasies that come to mind as I’m touching myself—images of a blond, gruff cowboy with his head between my legs. The sensations hitting me are so intense I moan out loud. And when I reach that place I haven’t been in a long time with Phillip, I’m surprised to feel tears stain my cheeks.
I rarely touch myself. And when I do, I never achieve orgasm. But thinking about Brayden Wild just got me off, my orgasm rocking my body with a power I’ve never felt before. Guilt overwhelms me, and I sit up, fix my jeans, and try to smooth my hair back into a ponytail.
Brayden (Wild Men Book 6) Page 12