One Good Thing

by Millikin, Jennifer

  “Sure, sure,” he says quickly, looking off to the side. “Listen, I better get going. I need to get back to Chicago. Plenty to do, starting with taking back our apartment.”

  I move my hand from his and he tucks it into his pocket. “I’ll sign whatever documents are needed to take my name off it.” He nods and stands, and so do I. I want to hug him, but I’m not sure he’d allow it.

  “Good luck with everything, Warren. I mean it.” I try for a smile, but it’s half-hearted.

  “Thanks, Addison. I hope he… Brady…” He says the name like it’s not something he wants to do. “Makes you happy.”

  And then he hugs me. A fleeting, awkward side hug.

  I watch him walk away and punch the button for the elevator.

  A deep sigh fills my chest, and I close my eyes to release it.

  “You’re a piece of work.”

  The words are spoken quietly, squeezing through a clenched jaw. And they don’t surprise me at all. I stand so I’m on her level.

  “Hi, Shannon.”

  “Don’t greet me like we’re old friends,” she seethes. “I told him not to come here, but he insisted on seeing you in person. I told him he was better off forgetting you. And I was right.”

  The triumph on her face makes me sick. I step closer, right into her personal space, close enough to make her feel my breath on her cheek. “Get a life, Shannon. Your brother will move on, and you’re going to need something to move on to also.”

  I back up and pivot, walking to the elevator Warren used just a few minutes ago. I step onto the next open elevator and take it up to Brady.

  * * *

  “Are you serious? Tell me more.” I laugh, lifting my beer to my lips.

  Under the table, goosebumps form as Brady runs his hand up and down my thigh.

  We’ve been sitting at the restaurant for the past two hours with Finn and Lennon, and my cheeks are beginning to hurt from laughing.

  “Brady—”

  “My turn,” Brady interrupts, shooting a look at Lennon. She sticks her tongue out at him.

  He removes his hand from my thigh and uses it to gesture. “Lennon is conveniently forgetting to tell you anything embarrassing about herself.”

  Lennon tosses her hands into the air. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

  Finn kisses her cheek. “It’s a good one, babe. You have to admit.”

  She turns her face to him to get one more kiss, this time on the mouth. “Fine, yes, it’s a good one,” she says in mock exaggeration.

  “So,” Brady turns to look at me while he tells the story. He’s so close I want to pounce on him, but I force myself to listen. “Growing up, Lennon went to church every Sunday. One Sunday, when she was…sixteen?”—he looks to Lennon for confirmation, and she nods— “she went to church with her skirt tucked up into her underwear. And somehow, all those nice men and boys chose not to tell her.”

  My eyes widen in horror. “When did you finally realize it?”

  “I told her,” Finn says, laughing.

  “Wait.” My eyebrows knit in confusion. “I thought you didn’t go to church.” An earlier story provided me with that insight.

  “Hardly ever,” Finn explains, “but this one Sunday I had something I wanted to, uh,”—he glances at Brady, a fleeting look of guilt riding over his face— “tell Lennon.”

  Brady snorts. “What he means is that he was after a secret make-out session with her.”

  Pink rises on Lennon’s cheeks, but there’s pride on Finn’s. “Yeah, I was.” He playfully hammers a fist down onto the wooden table. “And I got it, too,” he winks at me.

  My shoulders shake with my laughter. I look across the table at Lennon. She rolls her eyes upward, but there’s a smile on her face.

  “Uh, guys.” Brady looks around, then back to us. “I hate to break it to you, but I think we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

  I peer around Brady. We’re the last table in the place, and our server is sitting at a booth, scrolling on her phone.

  We stand up and walk out, exchanging hugs and goodbyes outside the door. When Lennon hugs me, I whisper, “Thanks for letting me into his room.”

  “I’m just happy I thought to swipe his extra key card,” she responds, laughing quietly.

  Brady wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to him. “Alright, ladies, enough secrets. Rectangles don’t tell secrets.”

  “Huh?” Finn, Lennon, and I all stare at Brady.

  “Rectangle,” he repeats. “A shape with four sides. You know, because we used to be a triangle, but now Addison made us a rectangle.”

  Lennon groans. Finn shakes his head and says, “I’ll be calling on you when I need some dorky dad jokes.”

  Brady playfully punches Finn’s shoulder. “You sure you have to go home?” he asks.

  Finn and Lennon are scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, but I wouldn’t mind if they accidentally-on-purpose missed their flight.

  “You can come home anytime, Brady,” Finn responds.

  Brady squeezes the arm he has wrapped around me. “I am home.”

  We have another round of hugs, then part ways.

  Brady drives us back to Sweet Escape. He parks the truck and we walk down to cabin seven.

  Once we’re inside, he pulls me to him. “Thank you. You have no idea how happy it makes me that you get along with them.”

  “You mean, with Lennon?” I’m pretty sure if I’d met Lennon on my own, she’d become my best friend. Anyone who jumps into a car with someone they don’t really know, just to help out a friend, is a person I want in my life.

  Brady looks unsure of what to say next, so I help him out. “Don’t worry, Brady. We both came to Lonesome with baggage.” My baggage is probably back in Chicago by now.

  Brady’s fingers slip into my hair, gripping either side of my head. His gaze grows soft, and it warms my chest, like he’s sending his love directly into my body.

  “We’re not each other’s first loves, and that’s okay.” He leans in, rubbing the tip of his nose against mine. When he speaks again, I hear it, but I also feel it, his words against my skin and in my heart and zinging through every cell in my body. “Because we’re going to be each other’s last loves.”

  And then he releases me, only to pick me up and carry me into his room.

  30

  Epilogue

  Apparently I chose the right profession. This handyman business is better suited for someone who knows what he’s doing.

  When Louisa asked if I could install security lights on her house, I said yes. What I should’ve said was no. Along with cooking and laundry, I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to minor home improvements or repairs.

  I am, however, a smart enough guy that I can figure it out the way I figured out how to bake that cake for Addison. Internet tutorials.

  I watch the video a handful of times, and once I’m confident I’ve got it down, I climb up the ladder and get to work.

  It’s not nearly as difficult as I thought it would be, now that I know what I’m doing. If anything, the challenging part is staying focused on the task when I can see Addison through the front window. She and Louisa stand in the living room, folding baskets of towels and sheets.

  When I’m done installing the two new motion-activated security lights, I turn the electricity to the house back on and go inside in search of my girl.

  I find her in the kitchen, dividing up baked goods into the brown wicker baskets Louisa leaves in each cabin as a welcome to the new guests. Tomorrow is Sunday, and I’ve been around long enough now to understand that means it’s a big day for guest check-out and check-in.

  Tomorrow also happens to be a big day for me and Addison. We’re flying to Phoenix, to attend the christening of Finn and Lennon’s baby boy.

  “Hey there,” I say to Addison, winding my hands around her waist and burying my nose in her hair. “You smell like a dream I don’t want to wake up from.”

  Addison laughs
and turns around, her hands running over my chest. “I was watching you on the ladder, installing the lights. You looked pretty sexy working a screw driver.”

  “Oh yeah? How about I take you home and show you how I can work a—” I clear my throat and pull my grinding hips off Addison. “Hello, Louisa.”

  Louisa smirks at me on her way to the cabinet, where she grabs a glass and fills it with water. “You know, Brady, I was just thinking about that terrible real estate lady who came to my door that day. If it wasn’t for you, who knows if this place would still be mine?”

  That conversation turned out to be integral in more ways than one. It’s what convinced Addison I was worth a shot. Or at least a ride to town, anyway. “It was nothing, Louisa. We were just fortunate I overheard.”

  Louisa nods, and as she passes us, she says, “Addison’s bed is still available for use upstairs. One might’ve thought you two had calmed down by now.” She laughs and leaves the kitchen.

  “I prefer our bed at home,” I murmur, grazing Addison’s forehead with a kiss.

  “My work here is done,” Addison says, standing on tip-toe to plant a light kiss on my lips. “Why don’t we go home?”

  Our apartment is in one of the newly-constructed buildings in town. It’s close enough to the bakery that Addison can walk there when the weather is nice.

  “Are we going home to pack?” I ask, running the tip of my nose across her cheek.

  “Among other things,” she whispers.

  ***

  I can’t help it. My eyes are drawn to the beautiful blonde across the airport bar. She lifts her glass of wine to her pink lips, taking a delicate sip. She looks around, her gaze landing on me.

  I’m not one to flirt, but a woman like this requires it. Because if I don’t, someone else will.

  I offer a shy smile, though shy I am not, and look away. It’s a ruse, meant to make her think I don’t do things like this often.

  It works.

  She leaves her seat, slinking over to me. She wears a white blouse tucked into a lavender skirt, long, shapely legs extending from beneath the short hem.

  I lean back against my seat, motioning to the empty chair beside me. She slides in, and her perfume wafts over me. She looks at me, licks her lips, and the muscles in my stomach tighten.

  “Brady,” I tell her, offering my hand to shake.

  “Addison,” she responds, placing her soft palm in mine. She leans forward, her blouse falling open.

  I unabashedly take the bait, glancing down into her shirt to see the swell of her breasts. I’ve never been envious of an article of clothing before, but here I am, wanting to switch places with her white lace bra.

  I look back up at Addison and catch the quivering of her lips.

  “You’re breaking character,” I softly admonish, rubbing my thumb against her chin.

  Last night, as Addison looked at the packed bags I’d lined up next to the front door of our apartment, her eyes lit up with an idea.

  “Let’s re-do the first time we met.” She grabbed my hand, eyes pleading. “Tomorrow, when we’re waiting for our flight. Let’s go to the bar and re-do it.”

  I actually like the way we met, it’s a funny story. But Addison’s idea sounded fun, and also like I might gain entry into the mile-high club. So I agreed.

  Addison clears her throat, trying to get back into her role. “So, Brady who I’ve never met and am not hopelessly in love with, why are you visiting Arizona?”

  I take a sip of my beer, trying to control the urge to drop the act and push her into the family restroom I spotted across from our gate. “My best friends just had a baby, and I’m going for the christening. I’m his godfather.”

  Addison feigns surprise. “So weird, I’m going to Arizona for a christening too.”

  I palm my stubble. I’ve promised Addison I’ll be clean-shaven for the ceremony. “Would you like to meet me for a drink when we’re there?”

  Addison leans closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. She’s done with the role-playing. “I’ll meet you for a drink anywhere, Brady Sterling.”

  My stomach muscles clench again, but not for sexual reasons this time. Has she found what was in my duffle? I was so careful to hide it.

  I force myself to relax. That day at the amphitheater when we spoke our truths, Addison didn’t see me slip the small wooden stick into my pocket, and there’s no way she found it last night. I wrapped it in an old t-shirt and placed it under the clothes I packed. I’m not worried about her finding the ring; that’s safely stowed in my pocket, until we reach Arizona and I find the right time to tell her the truth about how I want to spend the rest of my life.

  A bored voice booms over the loudspeaker, announcing the imminent boarding of our flight.

  “That was fun,” Addison grins, kissing me.

  “We can have even more fun on the plane…” I grab my backpack from the ground under my seat.

  “You need to study,” she reminds me.

  How can I forget? The bag of books I’ve just hefted over my shoulder is reminder enough. When Paul came to me a month ago with his idea, I turned him down. But then I spent the next few days thinking of what he’d said and remembered what practicing law felt like at its core. And I remembered how much I loved it. Going into practice with Paul wouldn’t be anything like the intense firm I was a part of in Chicago. So I ordered some books and signed up to take the Oregon state bar exam.

  For someone who wanted to run away from his problems, I didn’t get very far. And, somehow, what I ended up with was everything I wanted. A slower pace, the chance to practice law my way, and a woman who made my life better simply by being in it.

  And I’ll never, ever let her go.

  The End

  Also by Jennifer Millikin

  Beyond The Pale

  Good On Paper

  Our Finest Hour (Time Series Book One)

  Magic Minutes (Time Series Book Two)

  The Lifetime of A Second (Time Series Book Three)

  The Day He Went Away

  Full of Fire

  Acknowledgments

  I can’t believe Brady’s happily ever after has arrived! First, a gigantic thank you to my family, for dealing with a zombie for the last few weeks as I read and re-read and then re-read just one more time!

  Thank you, from the deepest depth of my heart, to my mom squad. Olivia, Jody, Erin, Kristin, Julliana, Sarika, and Lana I love you ladies!!! Olivia, thank you for using Beyond The Pale as your January book club pick. Your support of my work makes me want to cry!

  Julia, Crystal, and Jody, my rockstar beta readers. I love you for making my stories better.

  Kristan, my soul mate, my sister-from-another-mister. If I didn’t have you to eat fried cauliflower with me and listen to my writing woes, I don’t know what I would do. I love you long time.