by J. L. Leslie
“Second best man,” Tauren pipes in.
I chuckle. “Yes, I’ll be your second best man.”
We’re all laughing, my family here together as one, and all I can think about is how Brynn should be beside me. How we should make an announcement of our own. We’re in love, and the whole damn world should know that.
40
Brynn
I step off the elevator, bag in hand, headed to my room. I round the corner, not expecting to see Kipton pacing the hallway. His button down shirt is untucked, wrinkled at the bottom. His short hair messy from where he’s obviously run his hand through it. I step past him, dying a little on the inside as I ignore him.
“We should’ve told them about us,” he says. “It was the right time.”
“Was it? Tauren and Helene are having a baby, and Kaler and Jenna moved their wedding date. Let’s just tell them, oh by the way, we’re fucking.”
He mumbles a curse. “It’s more than that, and you damn well know it, Brynn.”
“I know it was a mistake the first time, and we had no right to repeat it. We aren’t right for each other.”
“Have you been happy with anyone else since you left Chapelwood? Because I haven’t! What happened between us was not a damn mistake. It was inevitable.”
I shake my head. “I can’t give you what you need.”
I slide my keycard into the lock, grateful when I’m granted access on my first attempt. I can’t stand out here in the hallway and have this conversation with him. Not when his family is on the same floor, my daughter only a few rooms down.
“I need you, damn it!” he argues, his arms caging me against the door, mouth descending.
I turn my head at the last possible second, his lips grazing over my cheek. “Please, Kipton. Please don’t.”
“I love you. You love me. Don’t pretend that you didn’t mean it when you said it.”
I did mean it. Christ, I love this man on a level I don’t even comprehend. I love him so much that I’m willing to give him up because it’s what is right for him.
Kipton deserves every happiness this life has to offer him. A wife. Children. A happy home. He deserves to be a dad, and while I know he would treat Willow as his own, he should have his own children. A son or daughter who belongs to him. Who he created.
After I sought treatment for post-partem depression, I knew I never wanted to experience it again. Never wanted to put myself or another child through it. I couldn’t imagine bringing another child into this world that I would look at the way I once did Willow. That I would resent. I made sure facing that devastation was not a possibility and had my tubes tied.
“We have to stop this,” I say, my voice cracking. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
I fumble with the doorknob, pushing it open and quickly escaping inside. Kipton wriggles the handle, but it doesn’t open. I collapse against the door, tears filling my eyes.
“Open the door, Brynn.”
I cry into my hands, jumping when a loud thud shakes the door. Once, twice, a third time. Kipton pounds on the door, demanding that I let him inside.
“I’m not giving up!”
“Please go away!” I sob. “Please!”
The pounding stops, and I hear his footsteps as he leaves. I lie over on the floor, cradling my head in my hands as I cry myself to sleep.
41
Kipton
Drinking yourself to sleep is not the best thing to do the night before an event, but after leaving Brynn’s room, the door slammed in my face, I knew sleep wouldn’t come without help.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
There was so much pain in her voice when she spoke those words. I can’t for the life of me figure out why she’s pushing me away. I know my family will understand. She and Kaler are in a good place, so I don’t see him having a problem with it. Lord knows Tauren has already caught onto my attraction to her. He’s teased me about it for years. The only thing he’ll do is brag that he told me so and call me a pussy for not doing something about it sooner.
I understand Willow is a concern. I’m unsure if she could ever understand her uncle being her stepdad, if it ever comes to that, but I know she will be happy and loved, and that’s what matters the most.
“You look like shit, man,” Tauren comments, patting my shoulder after I let him in my room.
I’ve already expelled the last bit of alcohol from my system, and the scent of it lingers in the air, sticks to my clothes. Not to mention, I sweated it out while I was at the gym.
“You fucking smell like it, too,” he adds with a cocky grin. “Rough night?”
“You can say that.”
“Well, don’t get too close to Mama. You know she has a nose like a damn bloodhound,” he says, glancing over at the empty bottles by my bed. “So, either you drunk yourself to sleep or started really early today. Didn’t take you for a day drinker.”
“Did you come here for a fucking reason?” I snap.
“Mama wants us all to go to breakfast. Said she’s making the most of the weekend before we head back home.”
I groan. “I figured as much.”
“Look, if you didn’t want us here, you should’ve just said so.”
I drop down on the bed. “It isn’t that. I’m happy ya’ll are here.”
“Then start acting like it.” I nod, assuring him that I will. “And get a fucking shower before you come down. Maybe that’ll help with the smell.”
I tell him I’ll be down in fifteen and do as he suggested, scrubbing my hair and body clean before I get dressed and leave my room to go down for breakfast. I press the button for the first floor in the elevator, leaning back against the wall as I wait for the doors to close.
Brynn rounds the corner, her steps quick, and then I watch as she slows. Her eyes wide as she sees me waiting in the elevator. She has plenty of time to make it before the doors close, but she stops walking altogether, her bottom lip tucked in her teeth. I stare at her, unmoving, no words, while the elevator doors shut.
I walk into the hotel restaurant moments later and find my family already seated. Like last night, I sit beside Tauren, but there is no empty seat across from me this time. When Brynn enters, she sits at the opposite end of the table. The furthest seat away from me.
During breakfast, I can hear her talking with Jenna, playing with Willow. The pain in her voice is gone, and she sounds happy. Is she this good at pretending, or is she this relieved that things are over between us?
I pretended for years. Behaved as though we were only friends. That my soul doesn’t long for hers.
I’m tired of pretending.
42
Brynn
I hold Willow’s hand as we walk through Myrtle Beach State Park. The moment she sees that Angie and Neil have fishing poles, she bolts, fishing being her favorite activity aside from playing on her iPad. I watch her reach up for Neil’s hand, and the three of them wave as they head off to the pier to meet the guys for fishing.
“Angie is going to have Kipton wore out before he ever gets on the back of a bull tonight,” Jenna says, walking beside us.
“She just misses him,” Helene puts in.
“He already looks like he doesn’t feel well, though.”
Jenna’s comment hits me like a punch in the gut. She’s right. Kipton doesn’t look well today. He has dark circles underneath his eyes, and I don’t think I’ve seen him smile once today, except when he was talking to Willow.
“Maybe he’s ready to be back home. This life isn’t for everyone,” Helene comments. “He still has his job at the Hendricks Accounting Firm. He could go back to the way things were.”
I know she doesn’t mean anything by her comment, but there’s no way he can go back to the way things were. Maybe it would be nice, but it isn’t possible. We’ve crossed too many lines. Made too many confessions. Caused too much pain.
Okay, that one is on me.
There is no going back.
“I t
hink it’s great Mr. Leighton allowed him to keep his job, but come on, Kipton is going all the way with this. He isn’t a quitter.”
I’m not giving up!
No, he isn’t a quitter, and while that’s a quality in him that I adore, it doesn’t mean there are times where quitting isn’t appropriate. The sooner he quits with me, gives up this notion that we’re supposed to be together, the sooner he’ll move on and find someone who can fulfill everything he wants in life. I only wish I could be that person.
“I heard Mr. Leighton is even coming to tonight’s event.”
“He is,” I say without thinking, and both of them turn to look at me.
“How do you know that?” Jenna asks. “Because if you tell me you’re dating him, I will flip!”
“We aren’t exactly dating,” I reply, and her eyes go wide, so does Helene’s. “We’ve had dinner.”
“But he’s Kipton’s boss,” Helene comments. “I sort of thought that…”
Her voice trails, and I know where she was going with that. She thought me and Kipton would end up together. She’s had that thought put into her head when I picked her up in his truck once. I can see why she would think it. What man lets a woman drive his truck?
“And what does Kipton think about his ex-sister-in-law dating his boss?” Jenna asks, grinning.
“I have no idea,” I reply honestly.
“God, I’m so glad someone else will finally be the talk of the town. Mine and Kaler’s elopement has kept the gossip mill going long enough.”
“You think I want to be the talk of the town again?” I ask, slightly annoyed.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jenna assures me. “The town is going to talk no matter what we’re doing. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
She’s right. That’s the way Chapelwood is wired. Everyone gossips about everyone until a better story comes along. It’s frustrating and annoying, but that town is also special. They accept your mistakes and join together to support you.
Will they be so supportive if they find out I broke their hometown hero’s heart?
43
Kipton
As much as I miss my family, I’ll be glad when they go back home. My body can’t hold up to fishing all day and an early buffet dinner before riding a bull. One day of that is all I can handle.
I can honestly admit I’m worn out. I chased Willow up and down the pier at the park, helped her reel in fish, and baited dozens of hooks for her. I wouldn’t have had it any other way, though. That little girl has a piece of my heart.
Even now, I stand with Willow on my shoulders, watching the rodeo pre-show. I hold onto her legs, and her chubby fingers are threaded through my hair. I hand her up a Skittle every couple of minutes. She wanted cotton candy, but I know how much of a mess she makes with it, so we opted for Skittles instead.
We’ve been here about half an hour, and I’ve yet to see Brynn. I know she’s still in town, supposed to come tonight. Maybe she decided to go ahead and go home.
I’m resigned to that idea when I spot her coming up the bleachers. John is walking right behind her, and it almost appears as though they arrived together. She stops in front of me, talking to Willow, but she doesn’t try to take her from me. She leaves Willow sitting contentedly on my shoulders and greets my family.
“John,” I say. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
I extend my hand, and he shakes it, smiling. “It was time I took a day off work.”
“One day?” I tease. “You should’ve taken a week.”
He chuckles. “I’ll consider it,” he says and glances over at Brynn. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t realize who she was to you until tonight.”
I frown. “I’m sorry?”
“Brynn,” he explains. “She’s the first woman to make me smile since Cynthia died. I didn’t realize she was married to your brother.”
I look over at her for any confirmation that what he’s saying is true, but as usual, she’s avoiding my stare. How the fuck could she do this? How is she dating John?
“She’s a keeper,” I reply, and John pats my arm before going to stand beside her.
“Skitta!” Willow calls out, tapping the top of my head. “Skitta, Kip!”
I mumble an apology and pass her another Skittle. I keep my gaze on the arena. I know if I look down to where Brynn’s standing ‒ standing with John ‒ I’ll go fucking crazy.
I want to be pissed at him, hate him for being with her, but I know he isn’t doing this to be vindictive or hurtful to me. He genuinely wishes to be happy, and he’s putting himself out there.
It’s Brynn I’m pissed at. Outraged. Furious. She knows who John is to me. She wasted no time in moving on after confessing her love for me. Who does that? What kind of person is capable of that?
“Mama, I need to go get ready,” I say, slowly lowering Willow from my shoulders and handing her to my mama after giving her a kiss on the cheek.
The more I walk, the more my stomach churns. It isn’t nerves this time though, it’s rage. Burning hot rage.
“Kipton! Wait!”
I can hear her running up behind me, but I continue walking. No one else needs to hear our conversation. No one else is privy to the words I have for her.
“How the fuck could you do that?” I ask, spinning around to face her.
She runs into me, crashing against my chest. I grip her arms and repeat my question.
“You’re hurting me,” she whispers, and I shove her back, feeling guilty when she stumbles a little. “I was going to tell you about John. It isn’t what it looks like.”
“It isn’t?” I yell. “Cause it looks to me like you’re dating my fucking boss! Are you fucking him, too? Did you jump from my bed to his?”
“I thought I could explain, thought I wanted to, but you don’t want to listen to me.”
“No, I don’t,” I agree. “I don’t want to hear any more of your lies. I wish you never would have come back, Brynn.”
44
Brynn
His words stun me. How could he say such a thing to me? He has always supported me returning to Chapelwood. Always helped me when it came to reuniting with Willow. When no one else told me I was worth it, that I deserved to see her, he did.
“How dare you?” I ask angrily.
“How dare I?”
“Yes, you! How dare you say that to me! Everything was fine between us! I’m not the one who changed things!”
He nods, laughing a little. “Yeah, Brynn. I made the first move. I kissed you. But if I recall correctly, I wasn’t in that hotel room alone, and I’m not the one behaving as though nothing ever happened.”
“Everything was fine,” I say stubbornly, blinking back tears.
“If you call pretending friendship was enough for us, then sure, everything was fine. But I got tired of pretending. I wanted more. Fuck, Brynn, I still want more,” he chokes out. “But you’re here with him. You have no idea how much that hurts.”
“I never wanted this,” I tell him. “I never wanted to hurt you, never wanted this tension between us.”
“We don’t always get what we want.”
I sigh, unsure what to say, what to do. “I’m sorry.”
He furrows his brow, shaking his head, and walks away. I take a detour to the bathroom, so it doesn’t look like I chased after him, and then return to the stands, taking my seat beside John.
“Everything all right?” he asks, concern laced in his voice.
“Yes. I’m good.”
He doesn’t press me any further, and the conversation is lost when the bull riding competition begins. The first few riders do well, scoring in the high eighties and low nineties. When Kipton is up, Willow starts jumping up and down, cheering for her uncle.
I watch him get on the bull, the animal bucking wildly before the gate is even opened. I hold my breath as he rides, unconsciously reaching over and gripping John’s hand.
Kipton doesn’t let our argument affect h
is ride. He’s utter perfection on the back of that bull. None of the other riders can compare. Of course, I might be a little biased, but as much as it terrifies me to watch him, I can’t possibly look away.
His muscles bulge in his shirt, flexing and moving with his agility. I’ve been lucky enough to be held with those strong arms. To experience every hard line of his body. To know that he has the power to ride a bull but has the tenderness to make love to me.
The eight-second buzzer sounds, ripping me from my thoughts, and we’re on our feet, clapping and cheering. Kipton takes off his cowboy hat and waves at the crowd. He plays the part of a celebrating cowboy, only the smile that’s usually there on his handsome face is gone.
45
Kipton
I spot Laura the moment I walk inside. She’s on her phone, but she motions for me to join her. She’s been in touch with me sporadically ‒ booking me hotels and confirming I’m staying on schedule ‒ since I signed the contract with Wrangler. Today, she’s having me make good on my promise.
The idea of posing for a Wrangler ad is daunting, whether I’m wearing jeans or underwear. I’m no model, rarely do I even take family pictures. Now, my sponsor wants me to strip down to a pair of fucking underwear and pose like I have a clue what I’m doing.
I’m not ashamed of my body, so being in my underwear doesn’t bother me. Hell, I don’t care who all sees me in them either. I simply don’t like to have my picture taken.
“Where do you want me?” I ask Laura after she’s finished with her phone call.
“Hair and makeup first, and then we’ll get started,” she replies. “We have one press member we’ve granted access to. Apparently, she’s from your hometown and was already here to cover the event.”