by Rae, Harloe
“Touchy, touchy. Did she deny your advances?”
I grind my molars. “As if I gave her the option. I wouldn’t touch her wearing a HazMat suit.”
“Oh, shit. She’s really getting to you.”
I automatically tense, my armor clicking into place. “Of course she is. Ollie talks about her incessantly. It’s been two weeks since I’ve had the displeasure of seeing Braelyn, but he still frequents her store at every opportunity. Mary gives in, of course, and obliges him. She feels it’s harmless.”
Jordan lifts his brow. “And what do you think?”
“My opinion is the exact opposite. That woman is trouble.”
“That’s what you say about every chick.”
“She’s worse. I try not to think about how much she bothers me. My skin fucking burns whenever she’s around.”
“Are you sure that’s not the clap?”
“Fuck you.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’d need to have sex in order to catch a STD. Your balls are gonna shrivel up, man.”
“You’re a real comedian today,” I grumble.
“One of us has to lighten things up. You’re casting shadows over all of us. Let’s fix this problem.” Jordan taps my empty glass. “Then we’ll solve some other shit.” He waves the bartender over and gets us another round.
I’m edgy and can’t put my finger on why. It’s almost as if someone’s watching me, and not fake Braelyn cackling over my shoulder. I swing my gaze this way and that. Nothing appears to stand out. The alcohol is making me paranoid.
The bar’s din is low, intimate conversations in hushed tones. Lovers discussing their plans for later are huddling in the booths against the walls. A snag pinches my chest, as it occasionally does. The beating organ in my chest longs for a connection. I stopped listening to that soulful rhythm long ago.
She’s not even here, but I feel her presence. How fucked up is that? Maybe I should give the brunette a go, just to bang Braelyn out of my thoughts. I cringe, the implication is curdling milk on my tongue. I’m screwed without actually fucking.
Jordan slams a beer down in front of me. “Earth to Brance. Knock off this melodramatic act. It’s bumming me out.”
I flick him off. “Sorry, dude.”
“Apologize to yourself. Twenty-five-year-old Brance would be ashamed.”
“He was an idiot.”
“But loads of fun.”
I shove him. “So, I’m a grumpy loser who’s sucking the joy outta the room?”
“You forgot overly emotional. Bordering on fragile, if I’m being honest.”
“Since when don’t you like discussing feelings,” I mutter and take a swig of beer.
“With hot chicks who need encouragement. Your ego doesn’t need stroking. You just need to pull outta this funk.”
“I’m fine,” I say for what feels like the thousandth time.
Jordan snorts. “If only I believed you.”
“Doesn’t make a difference to me.”
“So temperamental. If you don’t wanna discuss work or women, tell me about Ollie.”
“What about him? He’s great as always. The happiest child known to humankind. I’ve registered him for kindergarten. Grilled cheese is no longer a favorite food. Paw Patrol is still cool. He’s preoccupied with a certain someone lately.”
His smile is all-knowing. “Seems like a trend with the Stone men.”
“I don’t get attached.”
“I’m well aware. But it’s not always a choice.”
The padded stool wobbles beneath me. “Even if I was interested, which is a big fucking no, I’m a package deal. Women are shallow. They’d see Ollie as a bargaining chip.”
Jordan knocks on the gleaming bar top. “Wow, you’re jaded as fuck.”
“You’re just realizing this?”
“No, fucker. Just wasn’t aware how deep the damage ran. It’s gonna take a special someone to change your tune.”
I chug a few swallows of beer. “She doesn’t exist.”
“How are you so certain?”
“Every woman that’s been part of my life has left a toxic footprint. Each one more potent than the last. I’ve learned my lesson. I hear the good word loud and clear. I’m not interested in repeating mistakes.”
Jordan raises his glass. “I hope this one proves you wrong.”
Braelyn
Trust
I finish boxing the mug and set it aside. Next up is a glass-blown flower—rainbow colors, of course—and I scan the barcode. I make quick work of wrapping the delicate bloom in several protective layers. When I’m satisfied, it gets added to the growing pile of purchased items.
The woman in front of me is beaming. “I still can’t believe this little slice of happiness has been hiding from me. I love it here.”
I return her smile. “Thank you so much. I’m glad you stopped by.”
“And I’ll definitely be back.”
I finish bagging the rest of her things, toss in some extra taffy, and pass them all over. “Repeat customers are always welcome.”
“I wanted to buy everything. My AMEX will be getting a workout.” She wags the plastic in front of her face.
“I’ll be gentle,” I joke.
She grins. “Don’t worry, I can handle it. I’m a very willing participant.”
We share a laugh, the soft noise stoking heat into my limbs.
“I’m happy to hear it. And you have great taste. I love your choices.” I nod toward the bulging tote at her side.
She hefts the straps onto her shoulder. “It was impossible to decide. I could browse for hours. I’m a huge fan of your variety. What am I searching for? Oh, who can say. But I’ll find it here.”
“I try to offer things that anyone can enjoy. There’s a little something for everybody.”
“Thicket is a beautiful name. A place to get lost in. That’s exactly how I feel.” Her whimsical tone is music to my ears.
Her praise cracks my chest open and the sunshine pours in. I exhale, chasing the last bit of darkness away. “Thank you,” I repeat. I know my lower lip is wobbling.
“It’s my pleasure. You’ve done a perfect job with this store.” She grabs a few of my business cards from the holder and tucks it into her purse.
I stroke the mosaic tiles that border the counter. “This shop is my baby.”
She mirrors my movements, tracing the colorful pattern. “It really shows. I can’t wait to tell all my friends. And with that little café next door? This street is killer. One bonus after the other.”
I blink the heat from my eyes, not wanting to weep in front of a perfectly sweet stranger. “That truly means so much to me.”
She pats my hand. “Be proud. You’ve created a magical retreat for the creative soul. Kudos!”
“Well, you’ve truly made my day. Probably my month.” And I’m not exaggerating. If there wasn’t a counter between us, I might hug her. Maybe I’ll do it anyway.
She gives me a finger wave over her shoulder. “Until next time.”
“Have a great day,” I call to her retreating form. When she walks out, I’m still feeling ten feet tall. This afternoon is certainly taking a turn for the better. I mentally check my daily-due list of tasks. I turn away with a smile, set on getting some organizing done in the storage room. Before I make it three steps, the welcome bell rings.
My favorite customer bolts through the door at a speed any Olympic track star would envy. I cross my fingers over one another while waiting for his chaperone to arrive. Mary has been the one accompanying him these last few weeks, which I’ve been grateful for. But my guard remains firmly locked and loaded.
“Hi, Braelyn,” Ollie greets. The kid is barely winded.
I give him a high-five. “Hey, buddy. How’re you?”
“Great! And guess what? My dad—”
“Oliver John!”
My lungs threaten to collapse when that harsh tone cracks into the air. Any hope of avoiding another altercation vanishes with
those four syllables. Ollie makes a show of locking his lips and throwing away the key. He bounces on his blue sneakers, tugging on my shirt. I lean closer.
“My daddy has something to ask you. But I’m gonna go play with toys, m’kay?” His voice is barely a whisper.
“Uh, sure?”
But he’s already racing away, my response falling on deaf ears. No matter. Everything else fades into a colorful blur when Brance’s looming presence blocks the entrance. When he stalks closer, my brain power melts into a puddle of useless goo. Good Lord, this isn’t fair.
Brance is wearing another crisp suit, and I want to hate him for it. Those sleek fitting threads are some sort of kryptonite to my resistance. There’s no doubt about the custom fit. If I wasn’t positive before, this number does the trick. To add intensity to the fantasy, a blue tie pops against the gray fabric. Is that silk? Goosebumps prickle my skin at the promise of its feathery rasp. I jerk my mind out of the gutter.
“You’ve got a thing for suits, huh?” Brance offers a half smile, one hundred percent condescending.
I wince, knowing my face is red enough to stop traffic. He prowls into my personal space. I catch a heady whiff of his scent and almost moan. Crisp outdoors and spicy musk assault my senses. The combination is lethal.
Hello, pheromones. Please have mercy and take pity. I’m growing weak.
With a middle finger, he slides his sunglasses down. Those piercing blue eyes stab into me, and I fight to keep my expression neutral. He doesn’t need to know I’m a quivering bowl of gelatin on the inside.
“Buy a camera yet?”
I ignore his barb. “Ollie told me you have a question.”
“My son is very taken with you.” Brance’s gravelly voice is bitter.
I let my hackles rise. “And that’s a bad thing?”
He shrugs. “Not necessarily. Just makes things more… complicated.”
“How? Him being here often isn’t hurting anyone.” Not that I’m aware of at least.
“Attachments are messy,” Brance retorts.
“Ollie is a child. He should be surrounded by love.”
“And he is, constantly. Don’t worry about how I distribute affection.”
I don’t bother disguising my scoff. “Yeah, you’re Mister Warm Fuzzies.”
“That kid gets the best of me. There’s nothing left to spare. I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry.” His chiseled jaw tics, giving away his true feelings.
I smile at that. “At least you’re spending it wisely. That’s how it should be.”
“Great parenting advice. Find that in a pamphlet at the doctor’s office?”
The words bite, but only surface deep. “I might’ve read a baby book or two. I always wanted children.”
“Past tense?”
I nod slowly. “That ship has sailed.”
Brance studies my face. “Why?”
“Not important.”
He narrows his gaze. “Can’t find a man to knock you up?”
His nasty insinuation makes my eyes sting. Just when I thought we’d passed the worst of it. I suck in a deep breath and dredge up more strength.
I point to the exit, the gesture becoming a reflex when this man is involved. “You can leave now. I’ll get Ollie checked out.”
Brance doesn’t move an inch. “You’re so sensitive.”
“Thanks for noticing,” I deadpan.
He tucks a hand into his pocket. “Enough bullshitting.”
I let my jaw drop. “Because I’m the one stalling?”
“Whatever you want to call this. It’s kind of our thing. I needed to warm you up first.”
I rub my temples. “I can’t begin to imagine what you mean.”
“Braelyn.” The word sounds forced, as if just saying my name grates on his nerves.
I look up at him. “Yeah?”
He dips his chin, breaking eye contact. “There’s something I need.”
“This ought to be good,” I snort.
Brance’s stare flies up to mine. His is roaring with flames, and I instantly feel the burn. I shiver despite my attempts to control the reaction.
“I have a favor to ask,” he grinds out.
“Ask or demand?”
“Why do you have to make everything a challenge?”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
His eyes roll toward the ceiling. “Know what? Forget it.”
When he begins to turn away, I place a hand on his wrist and stop him. “What do you need, Brance?”
He’s silent for a moment, focusing on my fingers wrapped around him. I let my arm drop.
Brance straightens and adjusts his tie. He clacks his teeth together. Finally, he spits it out. “Can you watch Ollie tonight?”
I blanch, definitely not expecting that. Am I tripping? “W-what?”
“It would just be for a few hours.”
“You want to leave him here with me? Alone?” The possibility of this happening is so inconceivable that it’s jamming my circuits.
He bobs his head. “This was Ollie’s idea. Mary insists I trust you.”
At least I have their votes. But that’s not what really matters. “And what do you think?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
I want to argue that he does. But the defeat etched into his brow stops me. We stare each other down, his blue eyes boring into mine. I’m still trying to wind my brain around this unexpected twist. Who’s going to crack?
Brance scratches at the fresh stubble dotting his neck. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”
I hold up a palm. “No need to lay on the charm. I get it.”
“Mary isn’t available. I have no other feasible options.”
I jostle my hand, as if that will stop him. “Okay, I understand. You don’t have to give a list of reasons why I’m your last resort.”
His Adam’s apple bounces with a heavy swallow. “I won’t be long. Just a meeting, but it’s in the city.”
I wave him off. Clearly this guy needs to be heard, over and again. “That’s fine. Don’t worry.”
Brance rocks on his heels. “He really wants to stay with you.”
“That’s very sweet. We’ll have a great time. I can take him to Dapper for ice cream.”
“Whatever blows your skirt up. Just don’t ruin him.”
Ah, there’s the confident Brance I’ve grown to despise. I cross my arms and glare at him.
He scowls. “What’s eating you now?”
“You could try curbing the attitude. I’m not the enemy.”
“The jury’s still out on that one.”
“Yet you trust me to watch Ollie,” I remind.
Brance’s steel veneer cracks when he looks over at his son across the room. “You can thank him for that. He’s a great judge of character. That kid wouldn’t keep coming back if you were mean to him.”
I gasp and clutch my neck. “I could never be anything but kind to that adorable boy.”
He gestures toward me. “See? That right there is how I know he’s in safe hands.”
“Ollie will be very well taken care of.” The steel in my voice clangs around us.
Brance gives a sharp nod. “All right. Glad that’s settled.”
“Anything else I need to do?”
“That about covers it.” He opens his wallet and tugs out a familiar-looking business card. This time I accept it. “My cell is on here. Call if you need anything.”
I hold out my palm. “Give me your phone. I’ll enter my number, just in case.”
He does, and I type the digits in. When the deed is done, I pass it back. Brance stares at the screen.
“Programming it to your memory?”
He glances up at me, a sneer curling his lip. “I bet you’d love that. But no, sugar. I’ll be deleting it once this evening is over.”
“Good,” I retort. “Wouldn’t want to be confused with one of your women.”
He barks out a laugh. “There’s no chance of tha
t happening.”
I chew on my lip, deserving that dig. I shouldn’t be egging him on. “Okay, get going. Don’t want to leave your client or whoever waiting.” I shoo him off with a flick.
Brance sidesteps me. “Hey, Ollie? I’m leaving.”
The little boy dashes toward his father and leaps into his open arms. My ovaries threaten to explode when Brance cradles him for a moment, hugging him close. I’m blinking fast, about to turn away and give them privacy. More for my sake.
“Miss Braelyn?” Ollie’s soft question halts my retreat.
I cough to cover my sniffling. “Yes, sweetie?”
His hands are knotted in front of him. “You said yes? I can stay with you?”
“Of course. I’m excited to hang out, just the two of us.”
He squeals and begins bouncing around in circles. “Me too!”
Brance chuckles and pats Ollie’s head. “Don’t get too wild. You’ll scare Braelyn off.”
Ollie whips around to face me. “Is that true?”
“Never! We can have a dance party once your dad leaves.” I bop up and down, testing out my moves. Ollie laughs. Brance frowns. I’m calling it a win.
Brance glances at his watch. “Okay, I’ve gotta go.” He kneels and grips Ollie’s shoulders. The love flowing between them is so obvious. My chest squeezes so tight it could snap a rib.
“Love you, buddy.” He kisses Ollie’s forehead.
Oh, the butterflies are getting a workout tonight.
“Love you the mostest, Daddy. See you soon,” Ollie replies.
“Behave for Braelyn,” he orders. They exchange a look, saying so much without uttering another word.
Brance stands, nodding at me. “Thanks for this. I really appreciate it, even though it doesn’t seem that way.”
I shrug. “I got you. Go be lawyerly.”
That earns me a laugh. “Will do.” He takes one last look at his son and turns for the door. A calm silence follows, the dense atmosphere instantly easing up. I release a long exhale, thankful to have survived with minimal damage.
Ollie slips his hand into mine. “What’re we gonna do?”
I tap my chin. “How about I close Thicket early and we go somewhere special?”