The First Time Again: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 3

by Barbara Meyers

  By the time she arrived, a good-size crowd was already assembled. The driveway was packed with vehicles, so Baylee parked behind several other cars along the side of the country road. Guests spilled out of the house onto the porch. Several picnic tables had been set end to end. Beneath a party canopy were more tables set up buffet style and laden with food. Round metal bins held ice and cold drinks.

  Some distance away, smoke rose from a long, cylindrical barbecue grill of the sort Baylee had seen at the county fair. Clusters of men were gathered nearby. Sections of the sprawling lawn had been set aside for horseshoes, croquet and volleyball. There were people everywhere, and Baylee wondered how she’d find Trey in the crowd. She wove her way across the grass, looking for him. She greeted several acquaintances before she spotted him in conversation with another couple, who were accompanied by a little boy.

  Trey saw her approach and turned to include her. “Baylee, this is Hayley and Ray Braddock and their son, Fletcher. Baylee Westring.” She smiled and shook hands with them, wondering how Trey could so casually introduce his ex-wife and her husband.

  “Hayley and Ray are here looking for a vacation home.”

  “And as soon as Lynn learned we’d be in the area, she insisted we join the party. Fletcher loves fireworks, don’t you, Fletch?” Hayley gazed down at her son, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. He nodded enthusiastically and grinned up at her.

  Hayley Braddock was gorgeous. She had the sort of effortless beauty Baylee had always envied. Although her sun-streaked hair was surely the result of an expensive salon visit, it looked completely natural. She had curves in all the right places, and she was in the best physical shape a woman could be in. Plus, she exuded warmth and genuineness.

  Her husband and little boy were both dark-haired, handsome fellows who obviously adored Hayley and were happy to be in orbit around her.

  Hayley wore a blue-and-white striped sundress and strappy sandals. Baylee envied her perfectly manicured nails as well as her pedicure. A significant diamond ring sparkled on the third finger of her left hand, accompanied by a wedding band encrusted with smaller diamonds.

  Trey linked the fingers of his hand through Baylee’s, making it obvious they were a couple. Baylee stared down at her own outfit, wishing she’d worn something entirely different. The denim skirt and red, white and blue polka-dot T-shirt had seemed fun and perfect for the occasion when she’d put them on along with a pair of flip flops. But next to the stunning Hayley, she felt ridiculous and gauche. Although she’d painted her toenails, that’s all she’d done. There was never a reason for a professional manicure, either. Not in her current line of work. As for her hair, she hadn’t had it professionally styled in months.

  She’d left it down today because she knew Trey preferred it that way. A narrow band kept it out of her face, but the uneven, curly waves were no match for Hayley’s highlighted blond perfection.

  “Hey, Uncle Kurt’s here.” Trey turned to greet a handsome, fiftyish man. He and Trey gave each other a man hug, clapping each other on the back. Kurt greeted Hayley enthusiastically. She introduced him to her husband and son. Trey introduced him to Baylee before Kurt said, “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. Scott Givens.”

  Baylee had seen Scott walking half a step behind Kurt before they’d joined the group. She offered him a weak smile now, her enthusiasm for the day dwindling by the second.

  While the others chatted, Baylee merely smiled and nodded or murmured agreement when it was necessary. She was embarrassed to the tips of her toes to be standing here with her ex-husband and the man he was obviously involved with. The man he’d left her for.

  Kurt was the Asheville art gallery owner Scott had mentioned. Baylee hadn’t wanted details. She hadn’t spoken to Scott in months. To be faced with him now, so shortly after meeting Trey’s beautiful ex-wife, seemed grossly unfair. Trey had wanted her here with him, but all she wanted to do was flee.

  She untangled her fingers from Trey’s. “I’m going to go get something to drink.” She forced a smile and made brief eye contact with everyone but Scott. “Excuse me.”

  She stopped near the buffet area and swiped an icy-cold soda from one of the coolers. She had no idea where to go. Where to hide. Behind the Christophers’ house was a modern-looking metal structure. Since it seemed to be deserted, Baylee headed toward it. The building was open on one side, and she ducked into the shade provided by the roof. A fishing boat, lawnmower, a small tractor and other items were stored on one half, leaving enough parking space for two vehicles on the other.

  Half of the upper level appeared to be a loft. Perfect.

  She climbed the metal rungs of a built-in ladder to discover a wide-open space at the top. At the opposite end of the loft was a rectangular opening big enough to load bales of hay through. Andy Christopher didn’t raise cattle or horses as far as Baylee knew, so he probably had no need of the access. There were a few bales of hay stacked haphazardly near the opening, though.

  Baylee took a seat on one and popped the top on her soda. She took a sip of the cold liquid, glad to be away from the crowd. She gazed out the opening at the apple orchard beyond and the mountains in the distance. From here she could hear the musicians, but that was all. The party seemed very far away.

  What had ever possessed her to think that whatever this was she and Trey had going could turn into something real? After seeing his ex-wife, she understood Trey was most likely passing time with her until someone better came along. Someone more his type.

  Isn’t that what she’d wanted anyway? She’d never wanted Trey to take her seriously. She wanted to have fun with him. Have sex with him. She hadn’t wanted a relationship. She didn’t even want to stay here in Hendersonville. She was dying to leave, right? She was saving her money with that intent. Unless she got a job offer soon, she planned to move to Orlando and start fresh in a place where no one knew her, no one would talk about her, no one would pity her. Even if the voices she imagined she heard were her own, the internal monitor that judged her, changing environments might quiet it. She’d have something new and different to focus on.

  Maybe a change of scenery was the answer and maybe it wasn’t. She tried to imagine what she might miss if she left Hendersonville. Certainly not her self-involved family. Not her lumpy daybed mattress or the drudgery of the jobs she’d been doing the past year. She’d miss Jenny, of course. But mostly, if she were honest with herself, the person she’d miss most was Trey.

  Stupid, she warned herself. If she left, he’d move on so fast her head would spin. He’d find a willing, available woman. There were lots of them in Hendersonville or farther afield in Asheville. She’d miss his house, organizing his office. His bed.

  She took another sip of soda. She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. She needed to get back to the party, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do. There was no reason she couldn’t paste a smile on her face. She’d promised Trey.

  “Baylee?”

  Trey!

  “Are you in here?”

  “Yes, I’m up here,” she called back. She stood up and brushed the back of skirt. “I’m coming down.” Smile, she warned herself. You came here to—to what?

  While she was trying to formulate an answer to that question, Trey’s head appeared at the top of the ladder. “Hi there.” He climbed the rest of the way up. “You okay?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head as he approached.

  “Seeing the ex sucks, doesn’t it?” He hugged her and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Believe me, I know how you feel.”

  “You do?” Her question was stifled by his chest.

  He gave a humorless laugh and let her go. He moved to look out the window, propping himself up with one hand on the wall.

  “I thought…”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Thought what?”

  “You were over her,” she said in a tiny voice.

  “Me too,” he agreed softly.

 
“Oh.” She sank back to the bale of hay she’d been sitting on earlier.

  “You know what’s weird?” He turned to her and smiled. “It isn’t about her, exactly. Hayley. It’s that seeing her reminded me of everything I lost. She’s the most obvious symbol of how badly I screwed up. I think that’s what got to me.”

  “When you were talking to her, you didn’t act like it bothered you at all.”

  He grinned. “I was faking it.” He sat next to her.

  “When you called to me, I was trying to think of what to tell you about why I was hiding out here.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant to discover your ex has hooked up with my uncle.”

  “How’d you know he was my ex?”

  “You clammed up the second he appeared, for one thing. Hightailed it out of there as soon as you could. His name is Scott.” He tapped his temple. “I figured it out.”

  She nudged her shoulder against his. “Hayley’s beautiful.” She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes to gauge his reaction.

  “Yeah.”

  When he didn’t say anything else, she plunged ahead. “I don’t understand how you can—” She stuttered to a halt the moment she realized she didn’t want to know the answer.

  “How I can what?”

  Yes, she did want to know. “Go from being married to someone like her to sleeping with someone like me?”

  He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  She didn’t want to, but she’d have to spell it out for him. “She’s gorgeous and I’m—I’m—”

  “Stunning.”

  She stared at him. Was he joking? Teasing her? “No. I’m not.”

  “Are you kidding? You’ve got these gorgeous, amber-colored eyes, which by the way have this mischievous glint in them, and every time I look at you I always wonder what you’re up to.”

  She smiled at his description.

  “This hair.” He pushed her headband back until it slid off. “Wild. All I want to do is run my fingers through it.

  “This mouth. This very sexy mouth.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. “This mouth drives me crazy. So do these.” He cupped her breasts and kissed her again. “And this.” He squeezed her bottom and pulled her into his lap.

  The next thing she knew, she was on her back in a pile of straw and Trey loomed over her. He twined strands of her hair around his fingers and let them go while gazing into her eyes. “If I had a condom on me, you know what I’d do?”

  She held his gaze with hers. “You don’t need one. I’m on the pill.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since a few weeks ago.”

  “Man, this party keeps getting better and better.” He kissed her again. “Want to give me another chance in a hayloft?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Later, their clothes in rumpled disarray, they lay together, Baylee’s head on Trey’s shoulder, his hand sifting through her hair. Twilight had dimmed the bright sun of the day. A cool breeze blew across them from the opening nearby.

  “We should go back to the party. They’ll start the fireworks soon.”

  “Okay.”

  They straightened each other’s clothes and brushed each other off.

  They left the barn hand in hand. The first person Trey saw was his father, who was replacing the trash liner in one of the garbage cans. He frowned as he watched them approach.

  “Hey, Dad. Need some help?”

  “Wouldn’t mind it,” Andy replied. He handed Trey a roll of trash bags and fixed his gaze on Baylee.

  “Baylee, this is my dad. Dad, Baylee Westring.”

  Andy shook Baylee’s hand. “Dan Westring’s girl?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You got a piece of straw in your hair.” Andy tugged a long piece of straw loose and let it drop to the ground.”

  “Oh! We were, um, nothing.” Baylee could feel her face turning red. “I’ll help too.” She nudged Trey. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Christopher.”

  He nodded. His frown stayed firmly in place.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Damn it! Matty had been extra careful lately, or as careful as he could be on the dark streets of Hendersonville in the wee hours of the morning. As soon as Mamacita fell asleep, Matty and Jasmine found time to be truly alone with each other. Mostly they sat on the front steps of her aunt’s house, talking quietly. Matty never felt more alive than he did when in Jasmine’s presence.

  A couple of times they’d lain on an old sheet in her aunt’s backyard and stared at the stars. Jasmine knew all of the constellations and pointed them out to Matty, describing their history and their outlines. Matty found himself mesmerized by the sound of her voice, the scent of her, the fact that she thought him worthy of her time. He hadn’t minded the scratchy grass poking through the thin cotton into his back or the smell of dust from the dry ground beneath them.

  She’d taken to touching him, casually. Bumping her shoulder against his, or caressing his forearm. He didn’t know what to make of these gestures because the very idea that a girl like Jasmine could be attracted to him was so foreign, he hardly dared to dream of it. He figured she was bored and he was convenient and they had a few things in common. Like attending the same school. Being of mixed race. Loving Mamacita.

  At the Fourth of July party, she’d discovered a handful of friends she knew from school. Instead of the one-on-one situation Matty had envisioned, they’d been part of the group of teenagers in attendance. At least Jasmine hadn’t abandoned him. She’d gracefully made sure he met the other kids. Most of them he was acquainted with in one way or another. In a town like Hendersonville it was hard to escape crossing paths with kids around his age.

  Every night while he pedaled home, he allowed his thoughts to run wild. What if Jasmine was seriously interested in him? What if she was his girlfriend? He mentally slapped himself for such ridiculous thoughts.

  But tonight she’d given him reason to hope. She’d actually kissed him. On the lips! He’d been so startled he’d barely had time to react. The touch of her soft lips against his burned through his psyche, and he decided it was a good thing he hadn’t reacted because he’d probably have ruined the moment by saying or doing something stupid.

  She’d smiled at him after and drifted back into her aunt’s house like it was no big deal. Like she dropped kisses on guys all the time. To him, though, it was a very big deal.

  Now his perfect night was about to be ruined because, as careful and watchful as he’d been in an attempt to avoid that cop Spoley, he hadn’t been careful enough. The guy was sitting in his squad car with the lights off, and Matty cruised past him before he’d registered the cop was there. Next thing he knew, the high beams came on, trapping him in their bright light from behind. The red and blue lights twirled, and Matty knew he’d have to stop.

  Spoley had cornered him twice more since the first time, acting like he was his smarmy best friend. I’m not going to bust you even though we both know I could. One call to your probation officer and you’ll be heading for juvenile detention. Matty bit his tongue and pretended respect, while his skin crawled. Spoley should call Jack Frost. One warning maybe, but tonight was the fourth time he’d caught Matty out after curfew.

  Matty braked and waited for Spoley to pull alongside and kill his headlights and the red and blues. He turned off the ignition.

  “Hey there, Matty.”

  Matty wanted to throw up. He gave the cop a quick nod. “Sir.”

  “How’s it going?”

  How’s what going? “Okay, I guess.”

  “Out pretty late again, aren’t you?”

  “I’m heading home.”

  “You hear about the break-in at The Worley Inn over on Palmer Street?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Even though Palmer’s on your way home?”

  Matty pretended he wasn’t sweating. Pretended his he
art wasn’t racing.

  “I’d hate to think me going easy on you, not turning you in for all these curfew violations, led you to believe I’d tolerate other sorts of violations.”

  “I—” didn’t do anything. Matty knew it would be wiser to keep his mouth shut.

  Spoley smiled at him. In the thin light of the streetlamp on the corner, Matty caught a flash of his teeth, which made him think of the ferret his third grade teacher kept as a class pet. The thing had pretended to be warm and friendly the one time Matty got close to it. Right before it bared its teeth and bit his hand. Whatever Spoley was after, it wouldn’t be good.

  “You what?” he asked softly. “Didn’t do anything?”

  Matty glared at the cop.

  “Well, see, that’s the problem,” Spoley went on. “You can say you didn’t do anything, you didn’t break into the inn, didn’t steal anything, but a cop like me finds a kid who’s already on probation, breaking his curfew, being in the same neighborhood where a crime’s been committed, you can see why that might arouse suspicion.”

  Matty stared determinedly ahead, afraid if he looked at Spoley, he’d be tempted to show the loathing he felt for the guy, and that would only make things worse.

  “Kid like you,” Spoley began again, “with no proper supervision, who’s already been in trouble with the law, gosh, might even be tried as an adult. You’re almost eighteen, aren’t you? You know what that means, Matty? Grown-up prison. With adult men. Bet they’d love to get their hands on a fresh young piece like you.”

  Matty was so repulsed by the thought of that, he lashed out. “What do you want?” His gaze locked with Spoley’s, and he could see the cop’s satisfaction.

  “I want you to do me a favor,” Spoley said softly. “One little favor. That’s all. Then you and I are done.”

  Bile surged in the back of Matty’s throat. He forced it down even though his stomach lurched at the idea of what “the favor” might be.

  “What?” he ground out when he felt in control enough to speak again.