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Braydon

Page 28

by Nicole Edwards


  He wasn’t sure whether he should be pissed or excited about her arrival on his front porch.

  “Want something to drink?” he asked when he forced himself back into the living room. He couldn’t very well hide out in his bedroom all day, now could he?

  “Water?” she suggested.

  Brendon nodded and then made a beeline for the kitchen. After retrieving two bottles of water, he again took a deep breath. Something inside of him said he shouldn’t get his hopes up about this visit. He didn’t think Cheyenne had come to see him of her own accord. For some reason, Brendon got the impression that Travis might have had a hand in this.

  Either way, he was trying to figure out whether that mattered as he made his way back to the living room. She was there. That was the important thing, right?

  “Shouldn’t you be on tour?” he asked, keeping his tone devoid of accusation.

  “Quick break,” she said in that soft Texas drawl that he loved.

  No, he didn’t fucking love it. It was nice. That’s all.

  Good fucking grief.

  “So you thought you’d head this way for your break?”

  “Travis called me.”

  Those three words had a spike of anger lancing his insides, but Brendon bit his tongue to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. He had no idea what it was about this woman or why he had to be a jackass whenever she was around, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “And what? You thought you’d come pay the poor fucked-up guy a visit?” he asked, mentally slapping himself for letting the words past his lips. “Ignore me, Cheyenne. You really shouldn’t have come,” he told her, walking back toward the door.

  He was fully prepared to let her out when Braydon came through the front door, nearly knocking Brendon over.

  “Hey,” Braydon said as he came to an abrupt halt just inside the door. He glanced at Brendon, then slid his gaze over to Cheyenne, who was looking at Brendon as though he’d lost his mind.

  He had. She should know that by now.

  “Hey, Braydon,” Cheyenne responded in kind. “How are you?”

  “Good,” Braydon offered, glancing back and forth between Brendon and Cheyenne like he’d never seen two people in the same room together before.

  “She just stopped by,” Brendon said automatically, somewhat defensively. “Travis asked her to stop by,” he went on to clarify, “to make sure I wasn’t doing anything stupid, I’m sure. But she was just about to leave.” Yeah, that heated rage was boiling in his gut once again and Brendon couldn’t seem to douse it no matter how hard he tried.

  “I wasn’t leaving,” Cheyenne told Braydon, not bothering to look at Brendon. “I just stopped by to talk.”

  “About?” Brendon asked as Braydon continued to watch them with interest.

  “To see how you’re doing,” she said simply.

  “I’m great. That all? Here, I’ll show you the door.”

  “Stop being a dick,” Braydon muttered beneath his breath.

  “Fuck off,” Brendon retorted.

  “How’s the tour going?” Braydon asked in that friendly way that he used on women about the time Brendon was going to make an ass out of himself. Brendon watched as his twin made his way over to the chair opposite where Cheyenne was now sitting.

  Great. Now his brother was going to stay, which meant there was zero chance that Brendon could get Cheyenne out of his house before he caused any more of a rift between them. As it was, he was surprised she wanted anything to do with him; he didn’t give a shit how sorry Travis managed to make her feel for him.

  “Good. So far. A little hectic, to be honest. I only thought I had some excited fans. You should see the women who go crazy for Dalton and Cooper,” Cheyenne said with a chuckle.

  Brendon watched the interaction between Braydon and Cheyenne. It seemed easy, like they were old friends just hanging out and chatting. Why the hell couldn’t it be that easy for him?

  “How’s Jessie?” Cheyenne asked Braydon.

  “She’s doing good. Really good, actually.”

  “Did she mention that I’ve hired Kylie to restore my old house?”

  “No, she didn’t. Your house in Nashville?” Braydon inquired.

  “No,” Cheyenne said, glancing over her shoulder to look at Brendon before turning her attention back to Braydon. “I bought a house here.”

  Brendon was surprised he was still standing. The room seemed to be spinning, yet he had no idea why.

  “Here? As in Coyote Ridge?” Braydon asked.

  “Yeah. It’s an old Victorian, and although it’s a horrendous shade of blue, I think it’ll make an amazing house once she’s done.”

  “Holy fuck,” Brendon muttered, his hand on the wall. He hoped like hell he didn’t look as bad as he felt.

  “You bought the blue house on Jackson Road?” Braydon asked suspiciously.

  “I did,” she answered tentatively.

  Brendon had no choice but to sit down. It was that or fall over. He knew if one of them asked him a question, he wouldn’t be able to answer, so he calmly lowered himself onto the couch beside Cheyenne. He made sure there was a good distance between them, but that was the closest place and he suddenly felt as though his legs were made of spaghetti.

  “And Kylie’s going to renovate it for you?” Braydon asked, his eyes boring into Brendon.

  What? Did his brother expect him to just lapse into an easy conversation with this woman? She had just thrown him a curveball that had hit him right in his nuts. She bought a house in Coyote Ridge. Which meant he’d be seeing more of her.

  He didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  And he didn’t know if he would ever actually figure that out.

  BRENDON LOOKED LIKE shit. His face had turned an interesting shade of green, and Braydon was beginning to actually worry about him. Was this a residual effect from the accident? Or did this woman just have that much power over his brother?

  Braydon had never seen Brendon like this. Never.

  The man didn’t get tongue-tied over women. Ever. Yet Cheyenne Montgomery had an interesting effect on Brendon. That was for sure.

  “So what brings you over here?” Braydon finally asked, tearing his gaze off his brother for a moment.

  “I wanted to see how Brendon was,” she answered easily.

  Braydon noticed that she continued to glance sideways at Brendon as though she thought he might just jump on her or something.

  “Did Travis really call you?” Braydon asked, recalling Brendon’s flippant explanation as to why Cheyenne was there.

  “Yeah. He thought I would want to know.”

  “And did you?” Brendon snapped.

  “Yes, actually, I did,” Cheyenne snapped back. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Maybe,” Brendon told her. “Actually, yes. It is. You should stay the fuck away from me, Cheyenne. I know you’re smarter than that.”

  Aww, fuck. Braydon sighed. Here they went. Brendon was going off on a tangent, being a total dickhead to this woman. And why? Because she had the decency to check up on Brendon after he’d been hospitalized. Braydon wasn’t sure there was any rationalizing with his twin, so he didn’t even bother to try.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Cheyenne bit out. “I’m not sure I understand what exactly it is that I’ve done to make you hate me so damn much.”

  “Hate you? Why the hell would I hate you?” Brendon argued.

  Braydon noticed his brother’s somewhat green color had faded, leaving his skin a strange shade of pale. He kept his eyes on him, growing more worried by the second.

  “Well, jeez, if you don’t hate me, I really don’t want to know how you treat people that you do.”

  “I don’t fucking hate anyone,” Brendon gasped, his eyes locked with Cheyenne’s.
/>   Braydon could’ve been on another planet for all these two cared. They were suddenly engaged in a staring contest, and Braydon wasn’t sure which of them was going to win.

  “I just don’t see why you even bothered, Cheyenne. It’s not like I expected you to actually give a fuck.”

  “Hold up,” Braydon growled. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Shut up,” Brendon barked. “This is between me and her.”

  “Between us? Just like all of the other times you’ve told me what you thought about me?” Cheyenne retorted as she pushed to her feet.

  Braydon hadn’t planned to stand up, but suddenly Brendon was on his feet too and he’d taken a step closer to Cheyenne. The two of them were practically chest to chest, which was how Braydon ended up in between them.

  But before he could tell Brendon just what he thought about his attitude . . . His brother passed the fuck out, his lax body falling onto the couch.

  “ARE YOU SURE you want me to drop you off here?” Kylie asked Jessie as they pulled up to Braydon and Brendon’s house.

  “Yeah,” she answered. “I need to talk to them.” Jessie looked out the window to see that both of their trucks were in the drive. There was another car parked alongside Brendon’s, and it was sporting a rental sticker on the back.

  “Call me later,” Kylie said. “I’ll see if I can get Gage to go check out your car.”

  “Thanks,” Jessie answered. She figured there was no hope for her car at that point. When she’d left the office, her car hadn’t even made it out of the parking lot before it sputtered, coughed and then it died. A quick glance at the gas gauge told her it wasn’t that she was out of gas, which meant the damn thing had probably just croaked.

  Not that she could afford to buy a new one anytime soon.

  “I’ll stop by and pick you up in the morning,” Kylie said as Jessie climbed out of the truck.

  “I’ll be ready.”

  And with that, Jessie closed the truck door and watched her sister drive off before turning to the house. Her stomach was a jumble of butterflies desperately seeking a way out. She had resigned herself to coming over and trying to make amends with Brendon, for her own sake as well as Braydon’s. After her conversation with Kylie, she figured it was the least she could do. Her sister had a point. Everyone seemed to be talking, but no one was talking to each other about what was important. She had a strong urge to rectify that.

  At least with Brendon.

  Making her way to the front porch, Jessie glanced back at the silver car parked in the driveway. The butterflies turned into swarming ants and suddenly she felt sick.

  After rapping her knuckles on the door and not getting an answer, Jessie decided to try the knob. She knew that Braydon and Brendon were there because their trucks were. As the knob turned, that’s when she heard a woman’s voice.

  “Brendon. Oh, God!” the woman shrieked.

  Jessie was pretty sure her stomach was about to revolt. As the door opened all the way, she noticed Braydon and . . . Oh, crap. It was Cheyenne.

  They were both leaning over Brendon, who was lying on the couch. Granted, she could only see his feet hanging off the end, but she knew it was him. She just couldn’t see exactly what they were doing because the back of the couch was facing the door. However, from where she stood, it told her enough.

  What the fuck!

  Braydon looked up, their eyes met from across the room, and she saw something she’d never seen there before. Was it fear? Guilt?

  “Oh . . . my . . .” Jessie didn’t get the rest of her sentence out before she spun on her heels and took off toward her house. It would probably take about ten minutes to walk because the Walker property wasn’t exactly small, but at the moment, she needed to do something. It was that or she was going to go back and . . . and . . .

  How could he? How the hell could Braydon do this to her?

  He and Brendon were with Cheyenne?

  The tears started to fall, and Jessie knew there was no way to dry them up so she let them. And when she finally made it to her front porch ten minutes later, she decided it was high time she did something she should’ve done long ago.

  It was time to pack.

  chapter TWENTY-FOUR

  “What the hell are you doing?” Braydon asked Jessie half an hour later when he’d managed to get Brendon settled.

  His heart was still pounding from the scare he’d received when Brendon went down like a ton of bricks. His brother had passed out, and although they’d been fiercely worried, they had concluded that it was more due to dehydration than anything else. Cheyenne had threatened to call an ambulance, but Brendon managed to talk her out of it.

  The guy was pretty damn persuasive. Braydon would give him that.

  Once Brendon’s color had returned and he’d accepted a glass of water, Braydon told Cheyenne he’d be back in a little while. She agreed to stay with Brendon, at least until someone else could show up. As he walked out his door heading for Jessie’s, he’d called his mother and informed her that Brendon had passed out. She was on her way over, thank God.

  But now . . .

  When Braydon stepped into Jessie’s bedroom and noticed she was packing a suitcase, suddenly the bottom dropped out of his stomach.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” Jessie yelled.

  “Why the fuck are you doing this, Jess?” he asked, his throat threatening to close up on him. She was leaving? Seriously?

  How the hell did this shit keep happening? If it wasn’t Brendon freaking out, it was Jessie. Braydon felt like he was on a fucking roller coaster that was on an endless loop, and the longer he stayed on the ride, the worse he felt.

  “It’s clear you don’t need me anymore,” she ground out.

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  Braydon stared at her blankly, trying to figure out just what she was talking about. He’d known she had come over to his house; he’d seen her standing in the doorway, her face pale, her pretty blue eyes wide. But Braydon had been too busy to even greet her. His brother had passed out and all of a sudden she thought he didn’t need her anymore. Shit. He was pretty damn sure he needed her now more than ever.

  He was that fucking scared.

  “Jessie, please,” he begged, lowering his voice. “Talk to me.”

  “I have nothing to say to you!” she screamed, turning to face him, the shirt she was holding fanning out around her. “You and Brendon have more women than you know what to do with. I have no intention of being second choice.”

  “Second choice?” Braydon asked stupidly. “Help me understand this, Jess,” he asked, his anger replacing his confusion. He paused momentarily. “No. Scratch that. I don’t even know where to begin. Explain it to me.”

  “You heard me,” Jessie snapped.

  “I heard something about more women than I know what to do with. I’m not quite sure how the hell that fits in. My brother passes out and all of a sudden I’ve got more women than I know what to do with? How does that work exactly?”

  “Brendon passed out?” Jessie asked, clearly concerned. Not to mention surprised.

  “Yeah. He did. You were right there, did you not see him?”

  Jessie’s eyes dropped to the floor and she fidgeted with the shirt in her hand. “The couch was in the way. I just assumed that . . .”

  “You assumed what?” Braydon snarled.

  “That you and Brendon were with Cheyenne. God. It’s not that hard to believe.”

  Braydon laughed. He couldn’t help himself. It was that hard to believe, actually. “Are you fucking serious?”

  “Why’d you leave him?” Jessie asked disbelievingly, completely ignoring his last question.

  “I had to check on you. He’s awake and coherent. Cheyenne and my mother are with him now.”

  “Holy s
hit, Braydon. Don’t you see what’s happening here?”

  “No, no I really don’t,” he muttered truthfully.

  “I’m a distraction you don’t need.”

  “Wait, now you’re a distraction? Shit.” Lord help him.

  Braydon grabbed the back of his neck with both hands and turned away from her. He absolutely did not fucking understand women. He was beginning to think that his brother Ethan was onto something.

  “You need to be with Brendon.”

  “And you need to stop packing,” he yelled, turning once again to face her. “Is this how it’s gonna work, Jessie? Do I always have to fucking worry that you’re gonna run away?”

  “I’m not the one who ran away,” Jessie stated slowly, angrily.

  “You’re doing it now.” He motioned to her suitcase.

  “I saw Cheyenne and you. Y’all were all three on the couch.”

  “And what exactly did you think we were doing?” Braydon growled, knowing what her answer was going to be. She didn’t trust him. It was as simple—and painful—as that.

  “Exactly what it looked like.”

  “Trying to figure out why the hell my brother turned a frightening shade of white right before he passed out? Yeah, I’m not sure we’re on the same fucking page.”

  “You can’t blame me for making an assumption. I know how the two of you work!”

  “Do you?” he barked back. “Do you fucking know how it really is, Jessie? Or do you just expect the worst from me?”

  Jessie didn’t bother to answer, and she didn’t stop packing. That pissed him off, but Braydon didn’t move an inch. He continued to stare at her.

  “Fine,” she finally said. “I jumped to conclusions.”

  “That’s an understatement,” he mumbled.

  “Fuck you,” she shot back.

  “I don’t even know what to say to that,” he told her. “I don’t know how to prove myself to you, Jessie. I don’t know how to make you believe that I care about you. You’re the only woman I want. And yes, Brendon is gonna be with other women. Is that what’s bothering you? That he might actually have an interest in this woman? A woman who is not you?”

 

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