“But she handles the books,” he said stubbornly, “and it’s no business of yours.”
“Says you. Ellie’s my blood and I’ll damn well speak up for her if I feel like it. You keep that in mind.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That this ain’t just a business call. It’s a warning. You treat ’em right. Both of ’em, and that means letting them decide things for themselves. Listen to them. And talk to them.” Merle tried to hand over the keys, but Zach refused.
“That don’t belong here.”
“It sure as hell does, just like the boy living in the room over my station. You’re just too damned stubborn to admit it.”
Zach glared. “You don’t belong here, either.”
“For your information, that’s my daddy’s picture hanging in the foyer behind you.”
“And wouldn’t he be sorry to see how his youngest boy turned out.” He glanced at Merle’s grease-stained overalls. “A grease monkey, of all things.”
“It’s honest work, and so long as my wife approves, then it’s fine by me.”
Zach shook his head. “When are you going to learn that women are a dime a dozen. They’ll ruin a man’s life if he gives ’em half a chance.”
“And they’ll make it all the sweeter if he gives ’em the other half.”
“Daddy warned you about her. He said she’d drag you down.”
“And he was wrong. She keeps me up. She makes me happy. Not that you’d know the meaning of the word. You thrive on misery, Zach. Just like Daddy. He never wanted me to have anyone or anything that might mean more to me than that damned boot company. The thing of it is, that company can’t keep you warm at night, or cuddle next to you on the couch, or sit on the porch swing and grow old with you. A good woman can do all of that. But you wouldn’t know because you let the one good woman in your sorry life slip away. Hell, you drove her away and you’ve regretted it ever since.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about Esther.” Esther had been Maria’s older sister and the reason for Merle meeting the woman of his dreams in the first place. Esther had followed Zachariah home every Friday with various offerings—a fresh-baked apple pie, a jar of orange marmalade, a bowl of stew. She’d been sweet on Zach since the moment they’d walked into the same freshman math class at Cadillac High, and he’d liked her back. But he’d never acted on that like because he’d been afraid to displease their father. Where Merle had longed for freedom from the family legacy, Zach had striven for acceptance. And in the process, he’d closed the door on his one true love.
After five years of pining away for Zach Weston who had rarely given her the time of day, Esther had moved to California to attend nursing school. She’d met and married and spent the past thirty years having her own family.
“She’s widowed, you know.”
“I know.” At his slip, Zachariah shook his head. “I mean, I think I heard something like that last year.”
“She still asks about you every week when she calls Maria.”
“She does?”
“You might try giving her a call sometime, if you find the time. I know business keeps you tied up.”
“Yeah, well, that’s how it is when a man’s committed to something.”
“I know.” He winked at his brother. “It’s the same when a man’s committed to someone. Only it’s a lot warmer at night.” And with that, Merle tossed the keys at his brother and walked away.
HE’D FORGOTTEN TO use a condom.
The truth haunted Brady the rest of the night after he dropped Eden off and headed back to Merle’s. He’d tried to sleep, to get his mind on something other than her. He’d crawled into bed and closed his eyes, only to crawl right back out because sleeping was impossible. Not with her still on his mind. Under his skin. He could still smell her—the faint hint of apple cider and cinnamon. He could still feel her— the silk of her hair trailing between his fingertips, her hot, flushed skin pressed against his. He could still see her—completely naked and open and vulnerable….
He’d forgotten the friggin’ condom!
He, Brady Zachariah Weston, the poster boy for Trojans, had had unprotected sex.
What was wrong with him? He never forgot a condom. Never.
But Eden had looked so hot and sexy and scared, and the only thought in his mind had been to pull her into his arms and comfort her. Love her.
Love?
Forget losing it. He’d already lost it because no way did he love Eden Hallsey. He couldn’t love her. There were too many things about her that annoyed the hell out of him. The way she dressed. The way she lifted her chin and glared at him whenever he crossed her. The odd snorting sound she made when she laughed.
Strangely enough, those were the same things about her that he liked. The sexy way she dressed. The way she threw back her head and glared at him when he crossed her. The odd snorting sound she made when she laughed. All three and a whole lot more.
He’d forgotten the condom.
Brady tried to focus his attention on the pile of hot coals in front of him and the branding iron in his hands. He and Zeke had moved from hammering to branding a few days ago thanks to a summer flu that had taken two good workers out for the remainder of the week. Since Brady was the only person with experience in more than one department—albeit eleven-year-old experience—he’d been recruited. He’d taken Zeke along because he felt bad about nearly knocking the guy out the other day, and the more Zeke knew about the other departments, the more valuable he would be to Weston Boots. The more secure his job would be.
Brady grabbed the new boot and touched the tip of the branding iron to the heel.
He needed to think about work, not the fact that he was repeating his past, falling for a woman when he had no business falling for anyone. Least of all Eden Hallsey. She was the classic good time girl. She didn’t believe in love and marriage and any of those soft emotions. She was every man’s fantasy, and Brady had lived his. Thanks to her, he had confidence in his sexual abilities. Problem solved. Now the future lay right in front of him. A future here in Cadillac, helping his grandfather, living up to the Weston legend. He didn’t have time for love and marriage and babies. Hell, he didn’t have the strength.
Not after the past eleven years spent killing himself for a woman who’d been his complete opposite. More interested in his name than his feelings. More concerned with the size of his bank account than his dreams.
So what if Eden was a good listener? Sally had been a great listener too. Of course, Sally had only pretended to listen, while Eden had actually taken his predicament into account and offered advice. And Eden had made him feel better. Stronger. As if he really could win back his grandfather’s trust. Meanwhile, Sally, with her parting words I need a real man had chipped away at his self-esteem.
“Good mornin’, all.”
The familiar voice intruded on Brady’s speculation and drew his attention from his work to the older man strolling through the production department.
Actually strolling, his boots making a steady slap on the concrete as he moved, a smile on his face.
Wait a second. His grandfather never strolled and— Good mornin’?
Brady glanced behind him, expecting to see Zeke over at his station, the object of his grandfather’s greeting.
The chair sat empty and Brady remembered that the younger man had excused himself to go to the men’s room.
“Uh, um, good morning.”
“Nice day today.”
“Uh, yeah.” He studied the old man. “Are you all right?”
“’Course I am. The weatherman says we’re in for sunshine today, but lots of humidity.”
“Um, yeah.” He tried to think of something to say, to keep the man talking to him. But his brain was still stuck on good mornin’.
“I hear there’s no humidity in California.”
“California?”
“Don’t ask,” El
lie said as she walked up behind their grandfather.
Brady glanced at his sister and then did a double take, noting her leather apron, a stash of papers protruding from one large pocket, and the work gloves covering her hands. “I’m relieving you.”
“What—”
“Don’t ask any questions. I’m still trying to absorb the news myself.”
“Ellie’s in charge of production,” his grandfather told him.
“He put you in charge of production?”
Ellie motioned to Zachariah Weston who was busy inspecting a pair of newly branded boots while humming an off-key version of “California Girls” by the Beach Boys. “He came in at eight this morning and handed me this apron and gloves. Said he was having an office temp sent over from Austin to take my place. I know, I know,” Ellie said as she noted his incredulous expression. “We’re playing out our very own episode of the X-Files and Grandaddy is this giant pod person who looks like a Weston but really isn’t. Here.” Ellie grabbed Brady’s hammer and handed him the computer printout she’d had stuffed in her pocket.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s the cost specs for the new ad campaign you mentioned to me.”
“That was just talk.”
“Great talk from what I hear,” Zachariah Weston said. “Ellie told me all about it last night and I had her do the numbers before I relieved her of her duties.”
“What am I supposed to do with these?”
“Get your ass up to the second floor and start setting everything up,” Ellie told him. “You’re in charge of advertising.”
“And Gramps is okay with this?”
“It was his idea,” she said. They both shifted their attention to Zachariah who’d retrieved a pair of sunglasses from his shirt pocket. “Yep, I hear California’s just right this time of year and it’s been much too long since I had a vacation.”
“Who’s going on vacation?” Zeke asked as he walked down the hallway, stuffing his shirttails in along the way. He lifted the lid on the Styrofoam box sitting on the countertop and retrieved a venison sausage.
“Me,” Zachariah said as he snatched the sausage from the younger man’s hands and took a hearty bite. “My favorite,” he said around a mouthful. He snatched up the container and started down the hall. “Thanks, son.”
His grandfather’s voice echoed in Brady’s head long after the man had disappeared and Brady had traded his branding iron for a desk on the second floor.
He’d actually done it. He’d won the old man’s forgiveness. And his trust.
The realization should have made him happy. Ecstatic. Unfortunately, it only screwed things up even more. His grandfather was sure to disown him once more if he found out that Brady was following the same path he’d taken as a wet-behind-the-ears teen. He was falling in love with the wrong woman all over again.
But his grandfather didn’t know it, and he wouldn’t. There was one major difference between Sally and Eden. While Sally had longed for marriage, the last thing, the very last thing Eden Hallsey wanted was a happily-ever-after.
12
SHE LOVED HIM.
The knowledge sank in during the following morning as Eden went about her normal routine.
The trouble was, she didn’t feel so normal. She felt sad and empty and in love.
“What’s wrong with you?” Kasey asked her when she arrived for Sunday inventory.
“Don’t ask.”
“You’re not sick, are you? Because if you want to call this quits and save it for another day, or at least later in the day, I’ll totally understand.”
Eden managed a smile. “Late night?”
“It started over at Shanghai’s out on the highway after I left here. Laurie was there, of course, and she was downing Long Island Iced Teas like they were Hawaiian Punch.”
“Let me guess. You had to outdo her.”
“It started out that way, but then one thing led to another and we were so drunk, that we both passed out in the ladies’ room. We woke up close to 4:00 a.m. when the cleaning lady came inside to straighten up. Then we went out to breakfast together.”
“You mean you had a pancake eating contest for the sacred title of Blueberry Hotcake Queen.”
“No, we just ate together. She had the pancakes, but I had the breakfast tacos.” Kasey must have noticed the stunned look on Eden’s face because she added. “Funny how close you can get to someone when you hold their head over a toilet bowl while they spill their guts.”
“You did that for her?”
“She did that for me. I’ve never been able to handle my Long Island Iced Teas.”
“So she won.”
“We called it a tie. So what about this morning? You’re too sick to work, right?” She peered closer. “Why, I think your eyes are bloodshot. Are you suffering with a fever?”
More like a broken heart.
The thought filled Eden with dismay, but she pushed it aside in favor of hard work. She finished inventory in record time, much to Kasey’s delight, and decided to tackle the hardwood floors in the bar.
“We’re waxing today?”
“No time like the present.”
“But it’s the holy Sabbath. Even the Lord didn’t wax on Sunday.”
“The lord didn’t have one hundred square feet of scratched up wood. You can go on home if you want to.”
“You’re sure? Because you know how much I love to wax.”
“Go home.”
“But—” Kasey started. While Kasey hated extra work, she did have a conscience.
“If you say one more word, I’m keeping you here.”
“Adios.” Obviously a major hangover could kick guilt’s butt any day of the week.
Eden retrieved her mop and bucket from the back storeroom and headed for the main bar area. Four hours and eight bottles of Mop-N-Glow later, she could barely stand up. She was exhausted, and still every bit as miserable.
She missed him.
His warmth. His touch. His smile. She tried to convince herself that the past week had only been about sex, but it had been more.
In between the erotic movie reenactments, they’d talked with each other. She’d gotten to know the man he was now, as opposed to the boy he’d been way back when. He’d opened up to her and the process, he’d drawn out the shy, naive girl inside of her. A part of herself she’d tried desperately to bury all these years.
She’d succeeded. She’d covered up the pain and insecurity. But in the process, she’d buried her other emotions, as well, determined never to really feel anything for anyone in a romantic sense.
Romance had been a myth. Far from reality.
No man’s kiss could make a girl’s knees go weak or her palms sweat or her head spin. That had been pure fantasy. Fiction.
Then Brady Weston had walked into her life, her reality and proven her completely and totally wrong.
She’d forgotten her dreams of a happily ever after, but with his seductive charm and his handsome grin, he’d reminded her of a bonafide Texas version of Prince Charming. More so, he’d reminded her of how much she longed to find such a man. Her one true love. Her knight in shining armor who would rescue her from her lonely, guarded existence and give her everything—marriage and babies and forever.
She’d found him. The trouble was, she wasn’t his one true love. She was bad girl Eden Hallsey and Brady was strictly out for a good time. An affair. A very temporary affair that was now over.
As she stood there alone in her bar, the jukebox whining a sad country tune about lost love, Eden regretted the woman she’d become. Because that woman wasn’t good enough for Brady Weston. No woman was because he put his family first. He wasn’t interested in love and marriage, or any of the things that Eden wanted so desperately, and so there was only one solution to her predicament.
She was keeping her distance from Brady Weston.
HE WAS IN love.
Brady admitted the truth to himself after a night of tossing and turning a
nd getting no sleep at all. He couldn’t rest, not with his mind consumed with visions of Eden and his heart aching because he wanted to pick up the phone and call her.
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They’d agreed to a temporary affair. Nothing more and he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself.
Despite the tender way she’d touched him down by the river, the sympathy in her gaze, he knew she wasn’t a sentimental woman. She liked things up front, out in the open, and she never, ever, intended to fall in love.
Love makes people stupid.
That’s what she’d said time and time again, and she was right.
Brady had fancied himself in love with Sally and had nearly ruined his life as a result. He knew better than anyone else the amount of brain cells that could be destroyed by falling in love.
Eden would never return his feelings. Not that he wanted her to, mind you. He’d sworn off love himself. He’d just had a major breakthrough with his grandfather. The last thing he needed was to screw things up by walking down the same path as before, which left only one thing to do.
He was keeping his distance from Eden Hallsey.
EDEN’S VOW LASTED a full week, until she ran into Brady at the Piggly Wiggly again.
“How are you doing?” Brady asked as they came face-to-face in the chip aisle.
Run. That’s what Eden’s instincts screamed. What she’d resolved to do. But her feet wouldn’t budge. Besides, she couldn’t very well be rude. “Fine. And you?”
“Fine, just fine. Busy,” he blurted.
“Me, too.”
He held up a bag of gourmet roast coffee. “We were out of French Roast when Ellie came downstairs this morning—I drank the last cup yesterday— and so I figured I’d better hightail it over here before she does anything nasty.”
“I take it she’s not a morning person.”
“Not before about five cups. After that, she’s semidecent. If you want to get her all the way to tolerable, she needs at least six.” They both laughed and then an awkward silence fell.
“I really have to get back,” he murmured, but he didn’t budge. And neither did she.
“I heard you were living back with your family,” she finally said, eager to kill the awkward silence. “Congratulations. Your granddad finally came around.”
The Braddock Boys: Travis Page 28