As Tears Go By

by Lydia Michaels

  His expression lightened and he laughed. “Aww, look at you embracing your sexuality and branching into party planning.”

  “Blow me. I want everyone to be there. I think we should have a big bash, make it really special. They deserve it.”

  If anyone deserved it, his parents did. “I’m down. Just tell me when and where.”

  “Well, when Tristan feels better we’ll work out the logistics. Right now we’re just giving everyone the heads up. Kate mentioned something about having them renew their vows.”

  “That would be cool. It’s a shame Gramps won’t be here to see it.”

  “Yeah, but it’ll be nice for them to make vows with witnesses this time. Italian Mary’s already volunteered to make Mum something pretty to wear.”

  “It’s gonna be awesome, Luke. She’ll love it. Let me know what you need and I’m there. I gotta run, though. I just pulled up at my next stop.”

  “All right, bro. Talk to you soon. Love ya.”

  His chest warmed. There really was no way to describe what it felt like to hear those words from a brother he almost lost. “Love you too, Luke.”

  He tucked away his phone and headed in to pick up the pizza. He couldn’t wait to see Becca, even if that made him frighteningly whipped. She’d been all he’d thought about since Sunday.

  When he arrived at Becca’s her minivan was in the garage. He grabbed the wine, brownie, and pie and rang the bell. The locks disengaged with multiple snicks and he sucked in a deep breath when he saw her.

  She was a vision. Her hair was tied up in a simple ponytail. Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup. A vintage Stones shirt boasting a red, white and blue tongue clung to her curves over a pair of worn cotton pants. His gut tightened. This was dangerous territory, but he chose to ignore all the warning signals he usually heeded, the kind that told him he was assuming too much and moving too fast.

  She smiled. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” He leaned over the pizza box and kissed her. He hadn’t meant for it to be more than a peck, but she surprised him by jerking him close and turning it into more. The pizza and wine left his hands and landed on some piece of furniture he hadn’t noticed as her arms wreathed around him, tugging his shoulders down to her height, and the door slammed.

  “I missed you,” she whispered against his lips.

  Backing her to the wall, he kissed her fully, dragging his hips against her warm thighs as he lifted her. “Mmm, I missed you too.”

  Her fingers tugged at his tie, loosening it. His jacket was ripped from his shoulders. Barging in and stripping her wasn’t part of the plan, but it definitely worked.

  Lifting the hem of her shirt, he skimmed it clean off her body. His arms wrapped around her nipped waist and lifted her off the ground. Her legs curled over his hips as his mouth trailed kisses to her bra.

  She was incredible. Never in his life had he anticipated a welcome like this. He’d intended on feeding her and seeing if she needed any help around the house. A patch kit sat in his trunk for that hole in the wall, but he didn’t want to freak her out by offering to fix things. Now, he couldn’t think about anything other than pounding her into the wall.

  Her voice hummed over his pulse as she dragged her mouth up his throat. Apparently, the shyness was fading. “Take off your pants.”

  His body tightened another degree at her breathy request. Snaking his hand between their bodies, he undid his belt and fly, taking a few seconds to play with her. His cock grew rock hard. “You’re wet.”

  “Only for you.”

  “Sweet Jesus, woman. Grab my wallet out of my back pocket.”

  She fished out his wallet and tossed it to the floor after locating the condom. Somehow she managed to tear it open and get it on him in a matter of seconds. He spun her to face the wall and yanked down her cotton pants, hoisting her hips back. When he filled her she cried out his name and he nearly came.

  It was fast and it was rough, but that was exactly how they needed it in that moment. He didn’t finish until he was certain she’d been satisfied. When it was over, they collapsed on the cold tile floor of the hall and sighed.

  Taking a minute to catch his breath he brushed her hair out of her face and whispered, “I brought you a brownie. I’m going to feed it to you then cover your body in chocolate fingerprints and lick them off.”

  She panted. “It’s ridiculous how juvenile you make me feel.”

  He chuckled. “You make me feel silly too. It’s fun. I can’t remember the last time a girl made me so nervous and excited.”

  She snorted. “Please. I’m a hot mess.” Her gaze skittered away. “And I really need to dust under that hutch.”

  “Hot sexy mess.” He leaned up and grabbed the pizza box, which was no longer steaming, but still warm. Tearing off two slices, he handed her one. Gracefully, she took her piece and nibbled as she nestled into the curve of his arm. When she shivered he pulled his suit jacket over her belly and kissed her forehead.

  They never made it to the brownie or wine. After the pizza, they showered and climbed into bed. As much as Becca denied she was tired, the exhaustion in her eyes was evident. Braydon, however, found it difficult to sleep.

  Venturing downstairs, he made a slow tour of her house, straightening things along the way, and quickly sweeping under the hutch in the hall. He didn’t want to be intrusive, only help out any way he could.

  Becca didn’t have typical décor in her home. Rather, her house was a hallowed shelter designed for functionality and safety, as well as what he assumed was purposeful stimulation.

  His mind dissected every difference he noted and tried to pinpoint the rationalization behind it. The color scheme of the house didn’t seem to flow. One room was purely white, while the next was painted vibrantly, three of four walls done in bright primary colors and the fourth done in a black and white checkered pattern.

  The furniture, including the beds, lacked any hard frames or edges. Pillows in various shapes and sizes were stashed in the corners of every room. There were also swings and bolster objects he didn’t quite understand.

  Cabinetry had been removed and replaced with open shelving. Closets and pantries with remaining doors sported locks. And labels were everywhere.

  As he wandered through the house, Braydon came to realize how much Becca had eschewed her own identity for her son. If she had a personal style, it didn’t show in her home like most women’s.

  Venturing back up the stairs, he peeked into Hunter’s bedroom. The walls were a very dark shade of blue he typically wouldn’t use in a design for a young child’s room. The drapes were of the blackout sort and there was a white-noise maker mounted to the dresser. As he dragged his hand over the bedcovers he realized they were heavier than standard blankets. He assumed every element was designed to encourage rest, something Becca and her son both seemed to have difficulty finding.

  Not wanting to linger too long where he wasn’t invited, Braydon returned to bed and quietly curled around Becca’s side.

  “Were you snooping?” she whispered, startling him.

  He shifted and brushed the hair from her eyes. “No, learning.”

  “What did you discover?”

  “Nothing I didn’t already know. You love your son very much. You’ve created quite the home for him, Becca.”

  She smiled softly, her cheek pressing into the soft cotton. “It took some time and adjustment, but thank you. Bet you never dated a woman with a swing in her living room.”

  He laughed. “Not that kind.”

  “It must not make any sense to you as an architect.”

  He frowned, hoping she didn’t assume he was partial to sterile environments and artistically praised structures. “I can see the sense in a lot of it. Homes are designed for aesthetic purposes and functionality. You’ve accomplished both.”

  “I don’t know if I’d call it aesthetically pleasing.”

  “But I imagine your son would.”

  “True. What did your childhood home look l
ike?”

  He smiled at the mention of home. Talk about the unsterile environment. The familiar ache of homesickness filled his chest. “I’ll show you my childhood home sometime. It’s beautiful. My dad built it after he eloped with my mum. It’s a true log cabin with a big, open family-style kitchen we can all fit in and tons of bedrooms. We call it the big house.”

  “It sounds lovely.”

  “How about you? What was your childhood home like?”

  “Small, plain. We had hideous carpet and the ugliest orange tile in the bathroom. I always swore my house would be fancy and sophisticated when I grew up.” She laughed. “That wasn’t in the cards.”

  “What’s your version of fancy and sophisticated?”

  She sighed then blushed. “It’s stupid, really. I always dreamed of one room that was all monochromatic with one of those old fashioned fainting couches. Keep in mind I dreamed this up when I was a kid, but that’s what I thought every sophisticated woman should have in her home. I also wanted one of those farm style doors that were always open and dainty white café curtains in every window, which of course would always be open so the fresh air could trickle in.”

  Becca didn’t have windows that opened. They were all locked and secured with sensors, much like the doors.

  She toyed with his hair and drowsiness set in. “Which sibling are you closest with?” she whispered.

  He chuckled. “That’s not a fair question to ask when I’m falling asleep. I don’t have favorites.”

  “I asked who you were closest with, not your favorite.”

  Shutting his eyes, imagining all his brothers and sisters, he sighed. “I don’t know. I talk to them all the time, but not living there anymore…I don’t really feel that close to anyone lately.”

  “You miss them.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “You should go for a visit.”

  He opened his eyes and peeked at her. “Would you want to go with me?”

  She considered his invitation for a long moment. “That depends.”

  “On?” Her free time was so limited he’d been struggling with sacrificing Becca time for family time, but if she could go with him…that was the best of both worlds.

  “Well, it would have to be on a weekend that Kevin has Hunter and I’d have to drive separately in case I needed to return home for some reason.”

  “If you needed to get home I’d go with you.”

  “No, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with your family.”

  “We could always go on a weekend you have Hunter. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to meet him.” Intruding wasn’t his motive, but he wanted her to know he was sincere.

  Her face softened with the sweetest smile as she leaned close and kissed his nose. “You confuse me, Braydon. Tell me something rotten about yourself so I know you aren’t as perfect as you seem.”

  Perfect? Laughter tickled his throat. “If you think I’m perfect, Becca, you’re doomed for disappointment. I’m just an ordinary guy.”

  “Nope. I want something rotten. Give me a regret.”

  Drawing in a deep breath he sank back on the pillow. Her ceiling needed Spackle and a fresh coat of paint. “A regret? Okay. I regret not spending more time with my grandmother. She’s sick now with dementia. Last time I was home she didn’t know me at all.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you close?”

  “Not really. Not as much as we could’ve been.” His heart pinched with a sense of inconclusiveness that would never get resolved. “How about you? What do you regret?”

  “My marriage.” Her answer was quick.

  “But your marriage gave you Hunter.”

  “I could never regret Hunter. My life would be incomplete without him. I just wish I didn’t marry my ex. Hunter’s the only part of our relationship I don’t regret. But at the same time, I don’t know if Kevin would’ve strayed had Hunter been a typical child. I didn’t have a lot of time or energy to be a typical wife once I became a mother. I have no regrets in that department, because Hunter’s worth every bit of my effort, but Kevin… I guess the real regret is that he never seemed to try with us, as though losing us meant nothing.”

  Not knowing the right words after such a confession, he simply stared at her, enjoying the way her eyes softened every time she mentioned her son and the gentle play of a smile at the corners of her mouth. “You’re a good mum, Becca.”

  Her face transformed with a full grin. “Thank you. What’s your mom like?”

  He laughed. “Crazy. Awesome. We’re gonna have a big party for her and my father’s fortieth anniversary. Wanna come?”

  “When is it?”

  “Sometime next year.”

  She turned, her face tight with confusion. “Braydon…a year’s a long time from now.”

  “I know. I also know how to tell time and do long division. What’s your point?”

  Her head shook against the pillow. “How do you know if we’ll still be together?”

  “Are you breaking up with me?”

  “Are we in a relationship?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’m certainly not looking for an escape, but…”

  Turning to his stomach, his weight pressed into his forearms as his shoulders lifted. “Becca, I’m not afraid of commitment. Nor am I afraid of your circumstances. Stop expecting me to bolt at the first glimpse of chaos. I was raised in chaos.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just scared.”

  “What are you afraid of?” Truth be told, he was scared too. Every relationship prior to this one had failed. Sammy had been an eye-opener, because with her he’d thought it would be easy. Turns out if a woman appears easy, a guy really doesn’t have a clue about her. All women were complicated as hell.

  “It’s frightening depending on others. I don’t have good luck with that.”

  “Angel, if you needed me, I’d be there. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night and you have a bug bite that needs scratching. If you call, I’ll be there.” The issue was garnering an invitation. She was still holding him at a distance. “I’m not going anywhere. I…like you.”

  Her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “I like you too.”

  Leaning close, he kissed her brow. “Stop worrying and get some sleep.”

  Twisting to his back, he adjusted the covers and tried to settle for the night. His mind wandered and his thoughts drifted.

  In high school he’d dated a girl, Jenn, who was popular, but not very nice. Then there were some fun years in college when he didn’t want to be tied down. When he met Samantha, something told him she belonged with his family. He was right, but she didn’t belong with him.

  Losing Sam to Colin was right, but difficult all the same. His ego took a hit on that one. In the end Sammy said it best. They were great as friends, but nothing more.

  His mum teased him constantly about trying to be perfect. He never really tried. In his mind there was just a certain way things were meant to be.

  He was almost asleep when her hand crept onto his belly, stirring him.

  “Braydon?”

  “Yes?”

  “Would you like to come over this Saturday and meet my son?”

  His chest filled with true excitement. Her offer told him she was finally starting to believe he was serious about her. “I’d love to.”

  Chapter Eight

  Saturday morning Becca was a mess. Her hair was still wet from the shower, the house was an absolute disaster, and Hunter was worked up over the approaching storm clouds. She’d considered calling Braydon to cancel, but called Nikki instead, digging for reassurance and courage.

  “No. You’re not cancelling,” Nikki announced. “Suck it up, Becca. Your life isn’t perfect. He’s well aware of that. It’s time for him to get his feet wet and see if he sinks or swims. You can do this.”

  “I know, but I have this horrible knot of anxiety in my stomach.”

  “You’ll be fine. Go to the bathroo
m and get over it.”

  “How can you say tha—” There was a knock at the door and she did a double take. “What time is it?”

  “Eleven.”

  “Oh my God, he’s early.” She turned in circles like a dog searching for the best spot to lie. “Nikki, he’s an hour early!”

  “So answer the door, whacko.”

  Becca peeked out the window and frowned at the sight of a municipal truck. Glancing to the door, her confusion was slightly relieved. “Wait, it’s not him. Hold on while I see what this man wants.”

  She unlocked the doors as Hunter shouted. Tucking the phone by her hip, she greeted the man in a mechanic-type shirt. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you the owner of the house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here you go.” He handed her a thick envelope. “We’re notifying all residents in your neighborhood of possible interruptions to service. The county’s redoing the sidewalks and we’ve marked certain days you’ll be without water and sewer. There’s also information there about the trees lining the curbs and the customary procedure for removal.”

  She blinked at the stranger, feeling like an idiot. Didn’t he know she was expecting company? “What?”

  He checked his clipboard and double-checked the address on the mailbox. “Looks like you won’t have use of water sometime during the ninth through the fourteenth and that tree’s going to have to be removed. We’re recommending homeowners contact their insurance and schedule a line inspection. There’s been a lot of root damage reported lately and if it goes untreated too long you could be looking at upwards of twenty grand in repairs.”

  This had to be a bad dream. She was having a hard time following with Hunter shouting in the background. “You want me to cut down my tree?”

  “I believe you were notified about the tree several months ago.” He flipped pages on his clipboard. “Yup. Says here they notified you back in September and again in December of last year.”

  “I got a letter suggesting trees may need to be removed due to new sidewalks. No one said I had to remove it.”

  “Well, the township can remove it, but you’ll be billed.”