by Lex Martin
God, help me.
Because I have never in my life felt like this. Never wanted to throw caution to the wind to see what happens. But Brady makes me want to put everything on the line. Even my heart.
I try to focus on my tables, but I’m having a hard time concentrating. Finally, I give up and pour myself a cold glass of water to regroup.
“You guys bumping nasties?” someone whispers over my shoulder.
I nearly drop my drink. “What?” I whirl around to see my smirking co-worker Jaycee.
“You don’t have to answer that. I can tell by your expression that you know that man in a Biblical sense, and I am completely green with envy.”
Jaycee is my favorite person to work with. She grabs a few shifts a week whenever her college schedule allows it.
A nervous laugh escapes me. “I’m that obvious?”
She shakes her head. “I’d be concerned if you weren’t having naked playtimes with that hottie.” She sighs, and we both turn to stare at Brady who’s doing a little food airplane into Izzy’s mouth.
“Is everyone talking about us?” I whisper, almost afraid of the answer. But this is a small town where gossip reigns supreme.
She shrugs. “People know you two have been through a lot. Let me put it this way. I don’t think anyone is surprised you two are an item.”
When Carol rings up my order, I start to reach for the food when Jaycee motions toward Brady. “I don’t mean to be a Nervous Nellie, but are you gonna be okay when he leaves?”
I freeze, mid-motion. She nods toward his table. “He’s moving back to Boston, right? I mean, I assumed when I heard the farm was for sale.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat requires a Herculean effort. “Yes.” He may not realize it, but as soon as he started talking to that realtor, word about the farm spread like wildfire.
Jaycee frowns before she gives me a sad smile and squeezes my hand. “Then you and I will have a date with some Bacardi.”
38
Brady
The early evening sun makes the horizon glow as we drive home from Kat’s shift at the diner.
I study the rolling hills and the contrast of shadow against the dimming light. It’s beautiful here. Lush and tranquil. I finally understand why you’d want a hammock in the backyard or a swing on the porch. There’s something about the cedar in the air that makes you want to sit back and breathe. Or draw.
In fact, my fingers are itching to pick up my sketch pad at home. I’m about to mention this when we cross over the creek, and I steal a glance at Kat.
Those big hazel eyes are pinch closed as she tilts her head forward to rest against the window.
I reach over and grab her hand.
“Wanna talk about it?” I ask softly when I pull the truck into the driveway a few minutes later. I know it has something to do with my brother’s accident. She got that same anguished expression when we first toured the property a few weeks ago.
She turns to me, her eyes haunted. “Not really.”
I want to prod, but I don’t. She looks traumatized by the memory of what happened.
Guilt washes over me. Here I’ve been banging the hell out of Kat, using her to forget about everything else.
That sounds so epically fucked up.
The truth is I really like her, and I know the attraction is mutual, so I don’t feel like a total asshole for trying to lose myself in sex.
But a part of me knows I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve the comfort of this beautiful woman. I don’t deserve to wake up in her arms or kiss her lips or taste her skin. Why should I find solace amid my brother’s suffering?
We unload the groceries in silence as Izzy chatters contentedly.
Tonight I have to work on a few estimates for Jose, but I feel bad not being there for Kat when she’s obviously still upset. But I blew this off all day, and now I need to get it done. I stare at the laptop, wishing I could push it off until morning and go curl up with Kat. I need to take advantage of our time together before I start working at the tattoo parlor in a few days.
I got the job with one phone call and a quick visit to the shop, which surprised me, but my old job gave me a great reference. Although I definitely could use the money, I’m not looking forward to leaving Kat and the baby alone at night.
Kat says she’s tired, kisses me on the cheek as I work in the office, and heads off to bed. I’m tempted to grab her and hug her and tell her everything will be all right, but I know that’s not true. Because soon, I won’t be here for her, and that’s killing me.
It’s almost midnight when I finally email the last estimate. I’m about to turn off the lights and take a quick shower when her scream pierces the silence.
My heart is pounding when I round the hallway and burst into her bedroom. She’s sitting up in bed, sobbing.
I sit and pull her into my lap. Kat’s arms wrap around my neck and her whole body quakes.
“I got you, baby. It’s okay.” I stroke her hair and take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
I don’t know how long we sit in the dark when she finally whispers, “I was there, Brady. I was there that night.”
My hand stills on her back. That night. She told me she was babysitting Izzy.
She scoots off my lap and leans against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest, as she wipes tears from her damp cheeks. “When they were gone so long, I called a neighbor to watch Izzy so I could look for Cal and Melissa. I knew something was wrong. Even in the rain, it shouldn’t have taken so long. That horse always ran down to the creek. They knew where to look.” Tears stream down her face. “It shouldn’t have taken so long.”
I sit, barely breathing, and wait for her to continue.
She glances up, a look of utter devastation on her face. “I ran down to the creek bed. I knew it was faster than driving all the way around the property, especially in that weather.” Her chest fills with a deep breath. “That’s when it hit me. I didn’t want to drive because I was afraid of the flash floods we get down here and the low water crossing by the creek. My dad always warned me about that. He lost a friend that way. The kid was just washed away.”
All of the hair on my arms stands up as I wait for her to finish. I get an image of Kat running to the other side of the property in the middle of the night while being pelted with cold rain.
Her eyes close, and she starts to cry again. “By the time I got there, I could hear the sirens, but it was too late. The sheriff thought a sudden rush of water had pushed the truck past the small landing off to the side. When the truck hit this concrete ledge, it flipped and got dragged deeper. The water was so fast. We couldn’t reach them until the next morning. I stood there for hours and waited. I felt so helpless. I couldn’t do a goddamn thing.”
I reach for her, and she shakes her head. “I know what you said about the barn door, that accidents happen, but as long as I live, I’ll never forgive myself for that night.”
I’m about to say something—what, I’m not sure—when she levels me with a heartbroken stare. “I watched them get pulled from the water, Brady. I had to identify their bodies,” she whimpers.
It takes a moment to fully process what she’s saying. Then I can see it all. A rain-soaked Katherine standing along the banks as Cal and Mel get dredged from the river.
“Jesus Christ.” I grab her and hold her close as she cries into my shoulder.
No wonder she has nightmares. No wonder she screams in her sleep.
I can’t breathe. I don’t know that she can either, but we sit together in the darkness and grieve.
When Kat falls asleep, I lay her down in bed and crawl in behind her. I hold her until morning, desperate to keep her safe the only way I know how.
39
Katherine
I get up early and make breakfast. A part of me feels relieved to have gotten all of that off my chest, but I hate that I had to burden Brady with what happened. I’m sure he wanted to know, but that doesn’t make l
iving with those images any easier.
When he wanders into the kitchen, I half wonder if he’ll be upset that I didn’t tell him everything until last night. But I’m certainly not expecting the warm smile and hug or the kiss to my forehead. He does it with such tenderness, I could cry all over again.
“I’m sorry I unloaded all of that on you last night,” I whisper against his chest.
“Why? I’m not.” He kisses my cheek. “You needed to talk about it. I can’t believe you hadn’t. No wonder you’ve been having nightmares.”
It feels so good to let him hold me. I close my eyes and breathe in his woodsy scent.
I’m going to miss you so much when you leave. Don’t go.
I blink back the heat in my eyes as I turn back to the stove, needing some distance. “I made you something to eat. Farm-fresh eggs.” Once I’ve regained my composure, I glance back at him.
He rubs his face and yawns. “Those chickens scare me. Their beady little eyes freak me out.”
I laugh, and it surprises me. That after everything I told him about last night, he can make me laugh.
“The chickens are harmless.”
He frowns and leans back against the counter. “Doubtful. I’m pretty sure they could peck your eyes out if they got hungry enough. Didn’t you ever see that Alfred Hitchcock movie, The Birds?”
“Those were mostly blackbirds. I don’t think there were any chickens in that film.” I snicker.
“Well, if someone made a movie about killer chickens, it would be terrifying. All of that clucking and those icy little stares.” He kisses the back of my neck as I serve his breakfast. Goose bumps break out on my arms, and I drop my head to the side as he nibbles his way to my ear. “But I’d protect you from those scary-ass birds.”
I want to laugh again, but it’s hard when his mouth is on my skin, so all I do is mumble something unintelligible.
“How much longer before the baby wakes up?” he growls in my ear before he pushes me against the counter and presses himself to my rear.
“Hmm.” I can’t think. I just tilt my head back until it rests on his chest. His hand slides under my shirt and palms my breast. I arch against his erection and contemplate stripping naked in the kitchen when the baby starts babbling on the monitor.
“Seriously?”
I laugh again. “Get used to it, big guy.” Turning in his arms, I lean up to kiss him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I snuggle close and let his mouth ravish mine.
I feel it too. The urgency to be closer. To forget all of the heartache that’s hung over this farm for the last several weeks and just be together before he goes back to Boston.
Finally, I break away, a little out of breath. “Good morning to you too.” I straighten my shirt and glance down at his tented sweat pants.
He groans and drops his head to my shoulder. I thread my fingers through his hair, loving that he wants me like this. “How about we grab a quickie when she goes down for her nap?”
His laughter rumbles in my ear. “I like how you think.”
Unfortunately, we don’t get time for a quickie.
When Izzy goes down for her nap, Brady has to take a conference call from one of his contractors in Boston. When he gets off the call, I’m making dinner. In between all of that we're cleaning the house for the social worker's visit tomorrow, which forces us to brave going into Cal and Mel’s bedroom to figure out how to organize their belongings. It’s rough, but with Brady by my side, we somehow get through it.
And when I collapse in bed at night, exhausted and emotionally drained, he’s right there to hold me tight. Almost like he needs the contact as much as I do.
40
Brady
It feels wrong to have this meeting before I've broken the news to my parents that I'm adopting Izzy, but today is the only opening the social worker has for five weeks, and I don't think I should wait. Kat keeps telling me to relax, that it's not official until the late January court date, but I know I need to have that conversation as soon as possible.
But my father’s heart surgeon warned me privately that I shouldn’t drop any bombs on my dad until his next doctor’s appointment, so I’ve just assured my parents that I’ve spoken to our attorney about adoption and gotten the paperwork rolling. I need to tell them soon, though. For my own sanity.
My nerves are shot. Between going through Cal’s bedroom last night and worrying about the adoption process and my family’s finances, I could use a time out.
Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I watch Mrs. Gonzalez, the social worker, as she scribbles on her form.
Kat places a cup of coffee next to the woman and returns to her seat next to me at the kitchen table. I hold Izzy, who munches on a banana.
The older woman waves her pen toward us. “So you and the baby live here by yourself with Ms. Duran?”
I'm suddenly worried about how to explain our situation. Do I say Kat's my employee or do I explain that we're… We're what? Dating? After I gave Kat that whole song and dance about how this has to stay casual, it seems wrong to use that term now. Even though, yeah, I'm enjoying the time we spend together. Way more than any other woman I've dated.
But Kat once again comes to the rescue. “I'm the nanny. I knew Brady's brother and sister-in-law so I've come to help until Brady can get on his feet.”
Mrs. Gonzalez nods and begins writing again. “That's kind of you.”
“What are friends for?” She catches my eye and winks, and just like that, the worry in my gut starts to wane.
I smile back, so grateful for this girl. She looks completely relaxed as she helps me field the questions, and within ten minutes, she and Mrs. Gonzalez are chatting in Spanish. I have no clue what they're saying, but judging by how the social worker turns to me several times to smile, I'm guessing it's going well.
A few minutes later, she asks to take a tour of the house that ends up taking all of three minutes, and then she's out the door.
Kat, Izzy and I stand on the porch and watch the Honda Civic tear down the driveway.
“That was fast,” I mumble as I peek at the clock on my phone. “She was here, what, forty minutes? What if I was a psycho? What if I collected my nail clippings in a little jar or made voodoo dolls out of hair? Shouldn't she suss that out?”
Kat snorts. “You can be really weird sometimes.” She rolls her eyes. “Mrs. Gonzalez liked you and how you were with Izzy. Said you seemed like a hard worker.”
I scoff. “How would she know?” When I think about it, she didn't really ask many probing questions.
“I told her, silly. About how you take care of the baby and feed her and bathe her. How you tell her bedtime stories and brush her hair. How you've been fixing up the property and learned how to care for all of the animals.” She shrugs. “She was impressed. Said Izzy was lucky to have you, and I agreed.”
Jesus. That was one hell of a conversation they had in Spanish.
“You said all that?”
“Yeah. Do I get a bonus?” She giggles and nudges me in the ribs, and I laugh.
“Can I pay you with pizza?”
“Absolutely. But only if it's Pizza Hut.”
I wrap her in a hug and kiss her forehead. “It's a deal.”
Once we get Izzy to bed and order pizza, we curl up on the couch. Kat's head is in my lap, and I'm threading my fingers through her hair as we watch the SportsCenter highlight reel. When a clip from the Celtics game comes on, she turns back toward me.
“Do you miss home? Do you miss Boston?”
My hand drifts in and out of the soft waves as I think about it. “Yeah. I miss my parents and my sports teams.” She smiles, and I run a finger along her neck until she shivers. “But I have to admit I like the pace of life down here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything in Boston is intense. The traffic. The people. The weather.” I take a strand of hair and push it behind her ear. “Life is slower here.”
“You mean boring?”
“No, not at all. I mean, okay, I can see how it could be. We have a lot of entertainment in Boston that you don't have in the Texas Hill Country. But here people don't rush. They look you in the eye when they talk to you. They seem to genuinely care what your response is when they ask how you're doing. I like that.”
She smiles like she's proud. “So what you're saying is you like it here?”
Huh. “Yeah, I guess I do. Now if I could get Bandit to stop peeing on my stuff, we'd be golden.”
Kat chuckles and reaches up to run her hand across the back of my neck. She stares at me in a way that I feel all the way down to my knees. That playful grin spreads on her lips. “Wanna snuggle?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” I slide down next to her and spoon her from behind. “Thank you for your help today,” I murmur against her hair as I reach down to pull her closer.
She turns in my arms and kisses me gently. “Any time, honey. Any time.”
41
Katherine
The next morning is surprisingly chilly. Wrapping my hoodie around me, I smile as I stare out the back porch. Brady is wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved black Henley, his usual attire, but what has me chuckling to myself is the look of absolute horror on his face.
“Oh, fuck,” Brady yells as three hungry kittens scale up his jeans.
“Hurry and put the tuna down before they eat you alive,” I warn as I peel them off one by one. I stop to give little Valentine a kiss on his pink nose. He’s the runt of the litter and my favorite.
Brady places the bowl of food on the floor and rubs his thighs. “Don’t consort with the enemy. They have sharp claws.”
I pat his shoulder sympathetically. “Poor baby. I’ll kiss it later and make it feel better.”
Before I know what’s happening, I’m in the air, hanging upside down over his shoulder. “You’d better,” he says with a smack to my ass.